She explained her encounter before leaving the office while Dameon poured vodka, ice, and a dash of something else into a shaker. He poured the drink into a proper martini glass and plopped in an olive.

Grace accepted the drink with a question. “How much time have you been spending here?”

“More than I expected.” He lifted her glass to hers. “To martinis at home.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Cheers.”

They both drank and put the glasses down. “So, your boss pulled the permission card.”

“There’s a card?” she asked.

Dameon shrugged. “It’s an asshole move, but yes. My guess is somewhere it’s written that he has to approve overtime for every salaried employee. I have the same clause, but can’t say I’ve ever had to use it.”

“It’s bullshit.”

“I agree. It’s assumed when you run to do a last-minute request from your boss, that the overtime is good.”

“Exactly.”

“Did you say that before you left the office?”

“No.”

“There’s the loophole. Next time clarify. If he says no, skip his request.”

Grace sighed. “And give him a reason to fire me.”

Dameon leaned against the back counter facing her. “Are you really worried he will?”

Instead of answering his question point-blank, she asked, “Do I look like I’m insecure?”

He laughed. “No.”

“Right. I’m not. But with Richard, I feel like I’m on eggshells. This last year has been awful.”

“Was there anything that prompted it?”

“No.” She took another drink. “In the beginning, I was new. Thought everything was normal for a new employee. Six months in, I realized that I was the only woman there and it meant I needed to prove I was as capable as the men.” She paused and looked Dameon in the eye. “It’s been five years and I’m tired of proving myself.”

“And when did your feelings change?”

“I don’t know . . . six months ago, maybe a year.”

Dameon waved two fingers in the air. “And that, hon, is the shift. You got fed up and Richard noticed. Now he’s flexing to show his power.”

“By being an ass?”

“Maybe. Your boss felt a crack in his control, so he’s fighting back.”

She knew Dameon was right. “So, what do I do?”

“Are you good at your job?”

Grace looked at him like he was crazy. “I’m fabulous at my job! I run the track twice before the second employee under Richard runs it once.”

Dameon folded his arms across his chest, his cheeks pulled up in a grin. “Then man up. Stick to your guns and follow his rules. If he fires you, get another job and hire a lawyer. I know a few.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“Know your worth. It’s what separates workers from bosses. From what I’ve seen of you, you’re a leader. Richard probably sees that and is either intimidated or pushing you to realize it.”

Dameon’s words rolled around in her head. “Richard doesn’t like me. I doubt this is about him wanting the best for me.”

“Then he’s the one who’s insecure.”

Grace stopped talking and looked at the man. Suddenly, the whole Richard ordeal felt less. Less of a concern, less important, less needing to take up her time.

She smiled. “So, what are we eating?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

He’d ordered dinner from The Backwoods and kept it warm in the oven.

Grace sat beside Dameon eating prime rib and listening to his rundown of the details of Christmas day with his brother and mom.

She couldn’t stop laughing. “So dinner was popcorn and mashed potatoes?”

“And pie. Don’t forget the pie.”

Apparently, his mom made pie the day before, so that was prepared and in the fridge.

“No wonder there’s enough food here for a week.”

Dameon asked for the whole rib roast and not just a slice. “Probably not a good idea to go to the store hungry,” he said.

She looked at the remainder of the slab of beef. “You think?”

“She had to know she was high. I kept asking her if she was okay and all she did was giggle.”

“Did you ask your brother what he gave her?”

“No. I haven’t seen my mom that happy since before my dad passed. I wasn’t about to put my brother in the hot seat.”

“Aw . . . that’s sweet.”

“He’s staying through tomorrow. Then going back to Seth and Barney.”

Grace found herself laughing again.

“It’s not funny.”

She tried to keep a straight face and failed. “It’s a little funny.”

Dameon finally cracked a smile and she helped him find the humor. “We need to introduce my aunt Beth to your mom.”

Grace pushed aside her plate.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“For coming over. For making me laugh at what normally frustrates me.”

“I unloaded my baggage about my boss. The least I can do is listen to yours about Tristan.”

Outside, the cry of a coyote stopped their conversation.

“I don’t know if I will ever get used to that.” Dameon stood and looked out the back window.

“I would rather hear a coyote than the siren of a police car or ambulance.” Grace gathered both their plates and walked into the kitchen.

“I’ll do that,” he said.

She looked around for a garbage can, found it under the sink. “In my world, the one who cooks doesn’t clean.”

Dameon moved to stand beside her over the sink. “Since I didn’t cook, that doesn’t count.”

“I’ll wash, you dry and put away.”

Dameon spun around. “I don’t have dish towels.”

“Oh. Does the dishwasher work?”

His face lit up. “Yes. But I don’t have the right soap.”

“You need help,” Grace teased.

The two of them loaded the dishwasher and put the remainder of the food in the refrigerator.

With the chores out of the way, Dameon put another log on the fire and encouraged her to sit.

When she did, Grace realized quickly that the couch was as worn down as it was old. No matter where you sat, the missing springs in the middle forced you to roll toward the center.

“It’s pretty bad,” Dameon said. “I had the people that cleaned the carpet clean the couch before I sat on it.”

Dameon tried to sit a foot away, but they both ended up in the middle.

“That was a waste of money.” She scooted forward and started to lift the cloth covering the coffee table.

Dameon’s hand reached out to stop her. “Home Depot boxes.”

She laughed. “This reminds me of the days right after college when I was broke.”

He sat back and lifted his arm behind her shoulders and pulled her close. Not that he needed to do much of the work since the couch had already made it impossible to sit far away. “I keep going back and forth between hiring someone to do the shopping for me or doing it myself.”