Chapter Thirteen
Dom closed the door to Daisy’s office and leaned back against the wall. He hadn’t been all that confidant she’d buy into hiring him. Now that she had, he’d be working side by side with Jack, getting real-time intel on the Pyramid’s next move, along with the added benefit of watching over her.
He didn’t like using her this way, and he hated himself for doing it. But Jack had put her in the middle of this op, and it was the best way to position himself where he needed to be. If only Jack kissing her hadn’t made him want to smash his fist into the guy’s teeth. It was Jack’s way of staking his claim and sending him a message: she’s mine.
Fuck. That. No way would she ever be Jack’s.
One way or the other, he’d make sure as shit that Jack’s presence in Daisy’s life would be fleeting. Small consolation. There would always be someone else drooling after her. Gray was right. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out, and any man who didn’t want her was a fool.
So what does that make me? Dumb and dumber.
Getting close to a woman…falling in love again… He shook his head, trying not to count how many times he’d had this conversation with himself. Can’t do it. Too much pain. That and he needed to concentrate on the job at hand. Too many lives were riding on his ability to focus.
Back there in Daisy’s office he’d intentionally behaved like a jackass in order to piss her off and push him away. If that’s what it took to create the distance he needed, then it would be worth every one of her derisive looks and sharp words.
He smiled. Despite her cutting remarks, she’d been as affected by their encounter just now as he’d been. Her body had betrayed her. Hell, their bodies had betrayed them both. When he’d held her arms, steadying her, her nipples had jutted through her blouse and he really, really wanted to lean down and take them into his mouth. Truth was, he’d been nearly overcome with the urge to peel off every stitch of her clothing, piece by piece, and put his lips all over her luscious body.
With a groan, he pushed from the wall and found his way to the shop’s storeroom where Jack was emptying a bag of dark soil into an enormous three-foot-wide planter. Next to the planter was a small palm-like tree, its root ball wrapped in burlap.
“Well?” Jack continued emptying the bag of soil. “How’d it go?”
“I’m hired.” He went to the stack of soil bags and hefted one to his shoulder, carrying it to the planter.
“Outstanding.” Jack cut open the bag with a knife. “Now we can really get to work.” He glanced at the door and lowered his voice. “These trees go inside the hotel ballroom and the lobby. After we get them planted and dump soil in the pots, we’ll deliver them and take our time so we can do recon. So many dignitaries got invites to this shindig, security’s tighter than a camel’s ass. This might be one of our last opportunities to get inside and look around without hotel Gestapo breathing down our necks.”
“What kind of hardware we using?” He dumped the bag of soil into the pot, which Jack tamped down with a flat tool on the end of a wood pole.
“Two SIG rifles, handguns with silencers.” Again Jack shot a furtive look to the door.
“Only two rifles?” He grabbed another bag of soil and slit it open with his pocketknife. “Who’s taking the kill shot?”
“The boss.”
His hand stilled. This was a hugely valuable piece of intel. The boss taking the kill shot pretty much confirmed his suspicion that this job was personal. Finding out why it was personal could very well identify the targets.
“The other rifle,” Jack continued as he began muscling one of the palm trees closer to the planter, “is a backup in the event of a malfunction. Give me a hand. These fuckers weigh a ton.”
Dom got on the other side of the tree and helped Jack lift it into the planter. “If the boss is taking out the target himself, what does he need us for?”
“Cover. Diversion. He doesn’t want anyone getting in his way. Luckily, the hotel has forbidden any cops inside, including UCs pretending to be guests.”
“I heard the mayor is attending,” he said. “What about his security detail? They’re NYPD.” And there was no fucking way he’d let the Pyramid take out the mayor’s detail.
“Taking them out isn’t part of the plan.” Jack sliced open another bag of soil. “Unless something goes totally to shit. Get me another bag.”
Fuck. There was every chance something could go to shit, and he didn’t like those odds.
Dom hefted another bag of soil and opened it. “So the mayor’s not the target?” If he was, that would put a whole different spin on things.
“No. That was the first thing I asked the boss, and the only question of mine he answered.” Jack took the bag from his hands and emptied it into the planter. “Start tamping down the soil.”
Dom grabbed the tool and began pushing the soil against the roots. He cast a quick glance at Jack. “You think there’s something personal at work here?”
When Jack didn’t answer right away, Dom looked up to find Jack watching him through narrowed eyes.
“I’ve thought the same thing,” Jack said. “But since I don’t give a shit who the boss takes out, I didn’t ask.”
Dom went back to tamping down the soil. Not that he’d actually thought otherwise, but Jack’s cold-blooded crack pretty much sealed the man’s fate. Jack was too far gone to ever be redeemed. Not only had he killed purely for profit, but he truly was a heartless killer. When a man kills so many times he feels nothing, it’s time to get out. That was why Dom had left Delta. The killing had gotten to him, eating away at his soul until it turned him into an unfeeling bastard.
There were still so many other things about this job that bothered him. Like what the connection was to the Piazza. There had to be one, he was just missing it.
“Why do the hit in such a closed-space, public venue? The odds of the boss getting away with it and escaping are against him.” And there’d be hundreds of people there. Any one of them might get hit in crossfire. This was insane. He’d have to recommend the commissioner get involved and convince the hotel to cancel the event. Too many lives were at risk.
“Dunno.” Jack took the open bag from him and emptied it into the planter. “Boss is God. Whatever he says, goes.”
“And the hotel security team? What about them?” Dom asked.
“Like I said, they’re just a bunch of rent-a-cops. We’ll knock them out with tranquilizers.”
Finally. The opening Dom was looking for. “What about security at the entry doors? Won’t they have magnetometers?”
Jack nodded. “Starting tomorrow, anyone going in through the main doors has to pass through a magnetometer, and all deliveries at the loading dock are subject to inspection.”
“If security’s so tight, how do we get the hardware inside?” he asked.
“We don’t.” Jack began emptying another bag of soil around the palm tree. “Smith does. The day of the event everything will already be in place.”
Great.
The idea of that fucker being in charge of the weaponry sent more than a shot of unease up his spine.
“In place where?” He hefted over another bag of soil, trying to appear nonchalant when inside his brain was buzzing with the need to know where the weapons would be stashed.
“I have no fucking idea.” Jack took the bag from him and hoisted it over the next pot. “Smith won’t tell me. The only thing I know is he got a job with Magellan Foods. They’re the hotel’s food supplier. He’ll probably smuggle the hardware inside a box of broccoli.”
“You guys work together, but you don’t trust each other as far as you can spit,” Dom said.
“Ain’t that the fucking truth.” Jack paused to wipe sweat from his brow.
Shit. If he didn’t know where the weapons were or when they were being brought in, there’d be no way to get to them in advance. And he had nothing on Smith. No real name, no address, and no vehicle for the surveillance teams to follow. They couldn’t be certain that he’d be driving the Magellan Foods truck this time around.
“C’mon.” Jack tipped his head to the eight palm trees assembled in the corner of the storeroom. “We’ve got a lot of planting to do before lunch so Daisy can inspect the job before we make delivery.” He glanced at his watch and grinned. “And I gotta get back here by six. Got a hot date tonight. I’m taking her someplace nice, so I need time to shower and pick her up by eight.”
Dom ripped open the next bag of soil with more force than intended, and half the bag spilled onto the concrete floor. He grabbed a nearby broom to sweep it up. “Where you taking her?”
“La Rosa. You know it?”
“Yeah, nice place.” And too fucking romantic. He recalled Gray said that’s where he took Alex on their first date. His partner had also related that he’d practically had an orgasm feeding her chocolate-dipped strawberries. Apparently that restaurant was known for its intimate ambiance.
High heels clipping on the hallway floor grew louder, and a few seconds later Daisy came into the storeroom. Dom’s gaze traveled down the pumpkin-colored silk blouse and matching slacks. The shirt wasn’t form fitting, but he’d already noticed how the slithery material flowed over her breasts like liquid copper. She stripped off the matching sweater and rolled her shirtsleeves to her elbows. The gold bangles at her wrists clinked as she dug her hands into the soil he and Jack had dumped into the planter.
Her eyes lit up, and she smiled as her long, elegant fingers sifted through the dirt. “Niiice,” she said in a throaty voice and continued massaging lumps of soil apart and letting the dirt fall back into the planter.
As he watched her work, a prickle of heat lanced to his groin. There was something sensual and sexy about the way she worked the soil and the obvious elation on her face. Christ, it’s fucking dirt. But she looked as if she’d just discovered gold.
Annoyance flared inside him as he glanced at Jack to see he was also fixated on Daisy’s hands. Hands that might be tearing the other man’s clothes off after he wooed her with strawberries and goddamn melted chocolate.
“When can you have all these potted?” She shook residual dirt from her hands and grabbed a nearby towel to wipe off the rest. She rested one hand on Jack’s arm, rubbing it gently. “I’d hate for you to be late for our date.”
Jack touched his fingers to her cheek and gazed at her intently. “I have no intention of being late. Dom and I can get these babies potted and over to the Piazza by two, and we’ll be back here by six. Right, buddy?”
“Right.” Dom gripped the broom handle tightly, forcing an encouraging grin to his face, one he so didn’t feel. And I ain’t your fucking buddy.
Seeing him touch Daisy irked the shit out of him, and dammit, it wasn’t his business to be irked by anything she did outside of what he needed to accomplish his mission. But fuck, by the end of the night Jack might very well be in her bed. He began sweeping up spilled soil with urgent, angry strokes of the broom.
“If you’re running late,” she said to Jack, “I’m sure Dom wouldn’t mind closing up the shop. Would you?” Her mouth curved into a smile as she turned to him, but it was frosty at best, and he understood precisely what she was telling him: fuck you, Carew.
“’Course not. Happy to help.” When hell freezes over.
“Good.” She slid her arm around Jack’s waist and leaned into him. “It’s settled then.”
When Jack slipped his arm possessively over her shoulder and tucked her against his side, Dom made a mental groan and turned away to grab another bag of soil. If he had to watch any more of this shit he’d vomit. They were both laying it on thick.
“We’d better get back to work,” Jack said, his gaze following Daisy as she left the storeroom.
Fuck, if he didn’t know better, he’d say the guy was really in puppy love. He hoped Daisy didn’t actually fall for him. She didn’t know it yet, but there was zero future with Jack. One way or the other she’d be hurt, and that thought bothered him as well. Above all else, he didn’t want to see her hurt.
I’ve done enough of that to her already.
Two hours later, he and Jack loaded the last potted palm into the back of the delivery truck with a forklift. Thirty minutes after that they were backing up to the Piazza’s loading dock. Jack lowered the window and waved to the security guard, who indicated he should pull right in.
A young guard with a clipboard approached the driver’s side of the truck.
Fuck. Dom grabbed a ball cap he’d seen earlier stuffed between the windshield and the dashboard, yanking it low over his face. I know that guard.
Mario Valenzuela’s name had been on the thumb drive that Alex had retrieved from the fire last year. He and Gray had interviewed Valenzuela, who swore he hadn’t been contacted by the Pyramid and that he would notify the police immediately if he was. There’d been so many names on that list, he couldn’t recall Valenzuela’s issue but remembered the guy worked for a contract security company. At the time of the interview, Valenzuela was assigned to a warehouse in the Bronx, not the Piazza. That, he would have remembered.
“Whatdya got today, Jack?” Valenzuela said as they rolled to a stop.
“Palm trees.” Jack pointed to Dom. “Mario, meet Dom, Daisy’s new hire.”
“Welcome to the Piazza.” Mario leaned down from the dock to look through the truck’s window.
“Thanks.” He nodded back, pulling his ball cap even lower. If the guard recognized him and said something, he’d be screwed.
When another delivery truck began backing into the other loading bay, Valenzuela straightened. “Gotta go, fellas.” He left their loading dock to check on the other driver.
Dom snorted. “Some security.” Inside, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Jack gave him a sly grin. “Tell me about it.”
Utilizing a heavy-duty hand truck, they muscled the potted palms into position in the lobby and grand ballroom, where Daisy had marked X’s on the floor with electrical tape. By the time they were done, both were sweating, and they stopped at a workstation to grab water.
All around them, the place was a hive of activity. Delivery carts rattled by carrying boxes and furniture. Power tools buzzed, floor polishers whirred, and men shouted orders back and forth across the cavernous lobby.
The last time Dom had been inside the Piazza was about ten years ago, and then only to fall asleep in the jazz club. He’d gone there with a date who loved jazz, but to him it sounded like one run-on riff after another, as if the musicians were making it up as they went along.
As he sipped water from a plastic cup he took in as much detail as possible, committing critical observations to memory. Entrance doors. Elevator bank. Escalator. Gilded stairway leading to a black wrought-iron balcony encircling the floor above. More importantly, anyone standing on the south side of the balcony had a perfect vantage point, looking directly down through the lobby and into the ballroom where guests would be seated. He noted the podium at the far end of the room, set high up on a dais.
He’d also taken note of the magnetometers flanking the main entrance doors. Every guest would have to pass through the units, and presumably trained guards would view all belongings on screen.
Mall cops, most likely.
“You getting all this?” Jack asked, also looking around. “Security’s a joke.” He glanced at his watch and swallowed the last of his water, throwing the cup into a nearby garbage can. “Let’s get outta here.”
Back at the shop, Jack drove into the loading bay and lowered the garage door behind them. “Meet me in the storeroom,” he said. “I gotta hit the head.”
As Dom made his way inside he heard the lavatory door shut behind him. Daisy’s voice filtered down the hallway, and he walked toward her office. She was sitting with her back to him, her cell phone pressed to her ear.
“Alex, that’s wonderful,” she said. “When are you due?”
Well, damn. Alex was pregnant.
“Have you told Gray yet?” She swiveled her chair but still didn’t know he was standing at the doorway. She was smiling ear-to-ear, obviously happy for her friend. “Gray’s gonna piss his pants when you tell him.”
Dom grinned, recalling that one of the things he’d liked instantly about Daisy’s personality was her sense of humor and the way she always said what was on her mind. Gray would piss his pants when Alex gave him the news.
Gray loved Alex’s son, Nicky, as if the kid were his own flesh and blood, but Dom also knew Gray wanted a child of his own. With Alex.
He shook his head, still amazed at how Gray and Alex had overcome some major issues before hooking up. The love Gray had for his wife was the forever kind. The guy was tough as nails, but when he looked at his wife he turned to mush.
“I’m so happy for you,” she went on. “You’ve made my day.” After ending the call she put her phone on the desk. She was still angled mostly away from where Dom stood. She picked up a framed photo from her desk that Dom hadn’t gotten a good look at earlier. Even at this distance, he could tell the man and woman in the photo were her parents. The family resemblance was obvious.
The smile on her face slowly disappeared, and she took a deep, shuddering breath. A single tear rolled down her cheek.
What the hell?
One minute she’d been smiling and joyful, and the next…
When she let out a soft sob, the sound went straight to his heart. Even in profile, there was undeniable sadness in her eyes, and he had the urge to take her in his arms and hold her until whatever was bothering her passed. But that would completely violate his vow to maintain distance. Don’t get personally involved. Still, he’d have to be a coldhearted sonofabitch to stand there and do nothing.
“Daisy?” She jerked her head around as he entered her office. “You okay?” He knew she wasn’t. She turned quickly away and wiped her face with a tissue, but not before he’d gotten a close-up look at her eyes shimmering with more tears.
“I’m fine.” She forced a smile, but even a cop straight out of the academy could tell she was faking it.
“Bullshit.” He sat on the edge of the desk. “I know you better than you think I do, and I know damned well you’re upset.” He grabbed the framed photo. “It has something to do with your parents. Talk to me.”
“Why?” She yanked the photo from his grip and set it down on the desk as far away from him as possible. “And don’t you dare bring my parents into this.” Her beautiful eyes blazed with anger hot enough to burn a hole in his chest.
“I’m only trying to help.”
“The only help you can give me,” she said, her lower lip trembling, “is by the hour. So get back to work. And don’t forget to lock up. You’ll be the last one out tonight because I’m leaving early to get ready. For my date.” She began shoving things into her bag.
He rose from the desk, clenching his teeth at the way she’d emphasized her last word. He left her office and headed back to the storeroom. Needing something to do with his hands, he grabbed the broom and began sweeping up more piles of spilled dirt. He heard the toilet flush, then Jack poked his head into the storeroom.
“Heading home to get ready for my date. I’m tellin’ you, man. This is the woman who’s going to bear my children.” When he bobbed his eyebrows Dom suppressed the urge to snarl and tell him to fuck off. “Marjie’s already left and Daisy’s heading out, too. Catch ya tomorrow.”
“Later.” Dom stood rooted where he was until he heard the bell over the front door jangle as Jack and Daisy left. An indecipherable feeling gripped him, and he didn’t know what it was. Jealousy? Somewhat, but there was also a heavy dose of anger jam-packed in there, too.
He’d wanted distance, and that was exactly what he’d gotten, so why was he so goddamn angry? Then it hit him. If he hadn’t been so fucked up in the head a year ago, that could have been him going on a date with her.
Twelve months ago, he’d liked her. Really liked her. Seeing her again had only intensified the feeling. But he’d been unprepared for her then, and still was. He’d give his left nut to have done things differently, but this train was barreling down the track without a brake and there was no stopping it. He had a job to do, and do it he would.
He threw down the broom, picked up a small terra cotta pot, and hurled it against the wall.