“What did you do?”

“I sucked in my stomach and walked away. Back to the reception. Figured that was the end of it. Cute guy making googly eyes. Game over. But no. Fast forward to Sunday. I’m looking three shades of hell frozen over and kicking myself for tipping that last taste of champagne in my glass. I left my car at the hotel so I have to go get it—”

“You saw him at the hotel again?”

“No. I stop for coffee and there he is. He starts up a conversation. I pretend I don’t recognize him. Pretty sure he saw through that, but he plays along. This time he’s wearing a turtleneck and slacks and looks even better than the night before. Which is bad, right?” She stopped to sip her drink.

“Why is that bad?”

Grace shook her head, swallowed. “He’s in a hotel. So he’s either from out of town or cheating on his wife or girlfriend.”

Erin pulled back. “Sometimes you need to stay in a hotel because your house is being fumigated.”

“In a suit?”

“You have a point.”

The waiter walked up to the table. Erin ordered a glass of white, and he rushed off.

“Anyway . . . we shake hands, he tells me his name, I tell him mine. I walk away.”

“What? No phone numbers?”

Grace lifted her index finger in the air. “From out of town.” She put another finger in the air. “Or cheating. No. He didn’t ask. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

“I’m guessing the story doesn’t end there.”

Grace leaned forward, rested her elbows on both sides of her drink. “He was my eleven o’clock meeting. Big freaking investment company CEO from LA. Bought a bunch of property up San Francisquito, wants to develop it.”

Erin’s lips turned to an O. “He’s totally stalking you.”

Grace shook her head. “I don’t think he knew I worked for the city. He seemed shocked when I walked in. And in reality, I was given the project two hours before the meeting. I had never heard of Locke Enterprises before today. So even if he knew I worked for the city, the file could have ended up on any of our desks.”

“Good scammers investigate their prey before they engage.”

Grace stared across the table and let Erin’s words seep in. “I really hope you’re wrong about that.”

Erin’s wine arrived and she took a taste. “What happened at the meeting?”

Grace reached across the table. “He did this thing.” She waited for Erin to grasp her hand and squeezed it . . . twice.

Erin pulled back. “Oh . . .”

“Right? Totally flirting.”

“Yeah. The double squeeze is always an invitation.”

Grace sat back, brought her drink with her. “I didn’t bite. Completely inappropriate to go there.” She fished the olive out of her glass and bit into it.

“So, if you’re not taking his flirty-double-squeeze handshake and running with it, what’s the problem?”

“He’s super hot and oozes confidence. And I have to work with him.”

Erin started to chuckle.

“It’s not funny. I have to act like I don’t notice. I have a feeling if I give him so much as a sideways smile he’s gonna sniff at my heels until I give in.”

“Assuming this guy is legit and didn’t know you worked for the city and isn’t sniffing, as you put it, just to use you to get what he wants with his project . . . why exactly would you not ‘give in’?” Erin asked over the rim of her glass that did a shitty job of hiding her smile.

“I’ve gotten used to being employed.”

“Once he’s through the city’s red tape . . .”

“It’s going to take months, years. And I’m sure by then he’ll realize I’m not his type.”

“How are you not his type?”

Grace took a few minutes to look up Mr. Locke on her phone to learn a bit more about the man. “He’s society-page rich, and I live in a condo down the street. Different worlds.”

“Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”

Grace caught her breath. “That doesn’t count.”

Erin pointed to her chest. “I’m society-page rich, as you put it, and I love your brother and wouldn’t trade him in for anything.” Erin and her sister had come into half the controlling stock of a company that was worth billions. Their share had made them incredibly wealthy over the past few months. “Money doesn’t have to be a factor.”

“True. But to be fair, you and Matt got together when you both thought you were scraping along like the rest of us. Guys like Dameon Locke can snag any arm candy they want. Even if she only wants his money. When men like him play in my field, it’s to prove they can.”

“I really want to tell you you’re wrong,” Erin said.

“But you know I’m right. When you were married to the rich prick, you knew the game.” Erin had been born with money and walked away from all of it to escape her ex. Technically, she was a widow, but she didn’t like the title, so everyone referred to the man as her ex. Calling herself a widow was met with sympathy from outsiders. No one was sorry the man was dead.

“There are nice guys out there with money.”

Grace lifted her hand and signaled the waiter. “While you’re writing a list of their names, I’ll be looking for Dameon’s faults. I’m always looking at the good and miss the red flags, even with them waving in front of my face.”

Erin grimaced. “Dameon is a name I think of when I watch scary movies with vampires or the devil.”

“See!” Grace pointed at her. “Fault. I thought the same thing.”

“On the other hand . . . Dameon and Grace has a fabulous sound to it.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“You work too much.”

Dameon looked up at the underside of his mother’s kitchen sink with a wrench in one hand and a towel in the other. “You mean like I’m doing right now to replace this crappy faucet? I should have gone with my instincts and hired a plumber.”

“Your father always did the repairs around here and you promised to do it when he left us. So don’t go pawning off your chores on someone else.”

The faucet was older than him and just as stubborn as his mother. “I’m under here, aren’t I?”

“I’m not talking about minor house repairs. I’m talking about that fancy office job that’s killing you.”

“Who says I’m dying?” Damn bolt was rusted and wouldn’t budge. He’d been at it for thirty minutes and only managed to twist the thing in four complete rotations. And from the threads on it, he was going to be at it until morning.

“When was the last time you went to a doctor?”

“I’m not sick.”

“How do you know if you don’t go to the doctor? Every time I see Dr. Menifee he gives me another pill.”

He switched to a locking wrench and braced his foot on the opposite counter for leverage. Dameon didn’t know what hurt more, his arms from keeping them elevated above his head, or his back that rested on the straight edge of the sink cabinet.