She lowered her voice, not that anyone could hear with the closed door. “I really can’t talk about it here,” she told him.

“I completely understand. I wanted to let you know that I’m back in the city. But if you need me, I can get up there in thirty minutes.”

“And when in the history of LA traffic does it only take thirty minutes to get here from downtown?” She had to laugh.

“Okay, thirty-five.”

She snorted.

“I’ll be back Friday.”

The holiday party. The thought of him resting his hand on her back or repeating his kiss with someone from her office seeing them ran in her head. “About the party. We can’t . . . I mean it’s not a good idea for us to be too . . . familiar with each other.”

“I understand discretion.”

“Thank you.”

“I have a phone number for you,” he said.

“Whose?”

“Mine, at the San Francisquito house. The cell service out there is awful.”

She laughed. “I could have told you that.”

“Something that’s worth looking into with the project.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

He told her the number and she jotted it down.

“I’ll let you get back to work.”

“See you Friday,” she said.

“I look forward to it.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up.

Soon the sound of the clock ticking reminded her to get out of her daydream and get back to work.

Some things were just more trouble than they were worth. And keeping his office open and expecting any real work to get done between Christmas and the New Year was one of them. Half of his staff went out of town to visit family, and the other half had family visiting. His office party was set up for Saturday and then the doors would be shut until January second. It was an expense his accountant advised him against when he’d first opened the doors. But his employee satisfaction and retention was significantly better than the next guy’s, and that saved him money in the long run.

This year, Dameon was looking forward to the week between the holidays so he could put some time into the ranch house. There were a few things he wanted to do to make it more livable when he was there. Nothing too extensive since the plan was to level the house and make way for the development. But where the place stood was in the third phase of houses, which meant it was a good year away from demolition. The fact that he’d be closer to Grace hadn’t slipped his mind. And after the previous night, he especially liked that he’d be ten minutes away.

He’d driven back to the city after he’d dropped her off and finished the evening with a kiss. She’d been soft and responsive and looked up at him like a woman wanting more. That look had filled his dreams and put a smile on his face since he left her side.

Then his thoughts turned to Sokolov and the reason Grace had called him in the first place.

He had spent an hour looking up the property owner’s full name and information on the mobile home park. Anything that was in a public record, he dug up, or would. Not that he knew what he would do with the information, but it felt good to know more about his enemy.

What he really wanted was a picture of the man. But there wasn’t anything online to help him out.

Dameon put aside the small amount of information he’d gathered on the man to tackle the things he needed to finish before the end of the year. Unlike his staff, he’d be bringing work home with him.

Chelsea had given him a small file with names and portfolios of potential investors.

Just looking at it put a bad taste in his mouth. Last resort, he told himself.

A knock on his office door drew his attention away from his work. “Yeah?”

Omar popped his head in. “Got a second?”

“Yeah, what’s up?”

He walked in waving a piece of paper. “What’s up with the Santa Clarita project and this expense report?”

“I’m making the property livable.”

“For who?”

“Me.”

Omar stopped short, tilted his head. “Come again?”

“Part time. I will be working remotely one day a week. Stay there on weekends.”

“This doesn’t have something to do with a certain woman, does it?”

“She factors in. But I think it’s the best way to really know what the community needs. Sometimes what’s on paper isn’t the reality. Like cellular towers. The place is lacking cell service. We’re going to need a budget for that, or some kind of cooperation with one or more of the major carriers.” All of which was true.

“And then there’s the girl,” Omar said again.

Dameon dismissed Omar’s smirk. “Think about it. Every project we’ve done has been in developed areas that needed revamping or a small block of homes. This is the largest project we’ve done to date. And we’re doing it without a net.”

Omar nodded a few times. “We can get a net.”

“Investors mean dividing the profits.” And they both knew they didn’t want that. Not that Dameon needed Omar to be on board with what he wanted to do, but having him understand made everything easier.

“You haven’t led the company wrong yet,” he said.

“I don’t plan on starting now.”

Omar turned to leave. Right before he walked through the door he said, “I hope she’s worth the commute.”

“She is,” he whispered to himself as Omar left the room.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Normally Grace wouldn’t spend a lot of time figuring out what to wear to a holiday party with a bunch of people she knew and saw almost every day. Her colleagues didn’t require special clothing.

But Dameon was coming.

And whether she admitted it or not, she wanted to make him drool.

A red cocktail dress and black stilettos was exactly the thing to achieve her goals. Grace pulled her hair off her neck and into a loose bun and wore dangling earrings that sparkled, even if they were crystal rather than diamond.

The neckline of her dress plunged enough to show off her curves, but not so much as to be considered indecent.

After a final pass by her full-length mirror, she considered herself as perfect as she ever managed to get, and left her condo.

She arrived twenty minutes into the party and the room was already swimming with people. The line for the bar was by far the longest.

Peggy, who worked as a receptionist in the city building, beelined straight for her. “Ooh la la,” she said as she looked Grace up and down. “Look who is dressed to impress!”

“My black dress is at the cleaners,” she lied.

“And what, this was hanging in the back of your closet?”

“Actually . . .”

Peggy laughed. “Maybe Richard will finally call you by your first name.”

“I’m not holding my breath.” Grace looked around Peggy. “Have you seen my brother?”

“Not yet.” Peggy joined her in watching the other people in the room. “Who’s going to get drunk this year?”

They turned together and looked around the crowd. Every office had at least one or two lushes who made a name for themselves at the party. “I’m sure Pete learned his lesson last year,” Grace said.