"Not for me. I don't want to know anything about her, but that's all he wanted."
"Next time he calls, I'm going to tell him to come to your office instead."
"That's fine, but don't feel the need to put yourself in a tough position on my behalf."
"What? You don't think I can handle it?"
Lynn is a master at handling people. She could tame a damn lion if it came to that and I tell her so. But I'll never ask her to do my dirty work, especially where my father is concerned.
She waves a hand. "That's not dirty work. I think it would be fun to put the bastard in his place. You're like my son and he's shit on you."
"Dammit, why couldn't he have married you?" I hold out my arms to hug her.
"Because I would've beat his ass to a pulp. Besides, I kinda like my husband."
"Oh, yeah. I forgot about him."
She punches me in the arm. "You're a fucking mess. Now get back to work. Jack from security called. He said it was urgent."
"Thanks, Lynn." And then an idea strikes me. "Hey, where do you and Larry like to eat?"
"Larry likes to eat at home. He hates getting dressed up. You know that."
"I didn't ask where you liked to go … I asked where you liked to eat. There's a difference."
She gives me the name of a restaurant.
"Don't plan on cooking tonight. Expect a delivery around seven. Just let me know what you want."
"Thanks, boss."
She deserves much more than a fucking dinner. I remind myself to make sure she gets a huge quarterly bonus. Lynn keeps the office running for me and I wouldn't know what to do without her.
I immediately call Jack and his news sets me on edge.
"What do you mean she came home in a police car?"
"Mr. Beckham, all I can tell you is the guy we had watching her place reported back to me that she came home in a police car."
"Then I want you to find out exactly why that is. And don't call me back until you know the answer." He doesn't have an opportunity to respond before I end the call.
What the goddamn fuck! Vivi comes home in a police car and they don't even think to question why? Was she injured? Or in trouble? I'm on the verge of going over there myself when Weston calls. What the hell is going on today?
"Dude, what's up?"
"Nothing," I practically yell at him.
"Whoa, is someone having a rough morning?"
"Shit. Sorry." I scrub my face and sigh. "Had a meeting with my dad," I semi-lie. I've never lied to Weston before and it doesn't sit well with me. It actually disturbs me more than I care to admit.
"Sorry, man. You want me to call back at a better time?"
"Nah. Let's talk now." This may be exactly what I need to get my mind off Vivi.
I have the financials back for A Special Place and I explain it all to him. A couple of investors have suggested we set up a few more restaurants in other locations to see how they go. I told them there were already restaurants located in emerging markets in the southeast such as Charlotte, Charleston, and Birmingham and they were doing extremely well. "After I told them that, they were all in."
"Did they give you a time frame?" he asks.
"I'm thinking we'll have contracts to sign by Christmas. It's time to buy some property, dude."
Weston laughs. "Like I have time for that, but I'll manage."
"You can't put Special on it?"
"Not for this. This is my area of expertise. She'll come in for the outfitting."
"Sounds like a plan."
"When you coming back to Atlanta?" he asks.
"When we have the final contracts all ready to go. Why?"
"Just asking."
"I'll let you know when I hear definites."
"Okay. We'll make it happen. There may be land buying trips in our future."
I wonder if Vivi would get along with Special. What the hell am I thinking? Vivi doesn't even get along with me! It would be a cold day in hell before I got her to agree to go on a trip with me. I can't even get the woman to fucking call me. It would be fun, though, if I could.
After we end the call, my momentary distraction is gone and I'm back to wondering what the hell happened to Vivi. I wish Jack would call. It's not even ten and I'm acting like a caged bull.
Lynn walks in and hands over some papers for me to sign and I jump when she slaps them on my desk. She notices how edgy I am.
"What's wrong now? You were fine a few minutes ago."
"It's nothing."
By the look she gives me, I know she doesn't believe me.
"Oh, here's my order for our dinner, and thanks again."
She leaves, glancing over her shoulder one last time before she walks out.
The thing with Vivi is driving me nuts. If someone hurt her, they're dead. Maybe it's that fucking building she lives in. She needs to move, but dammit, she won't fucking talk to me. I can't even help her and I'm fully capable of it. I sent her those damn coats to keep her from shivering in this freezing weather, but she wouldn't have anything to do with them. What the fuck am I supposed to do?
By lunch, I've worked myself up to the point I have to go home to smoke a blunt and calm my ass down. It's after two when I return. Lynn examines me with lifted brows. I shrug, choosing to ignore her.
Finally, Jack calls.
"She was taken to the police department because she was attacked."
"What?" I shout.
"Calm down, Mr. Beckham. She's fine, as far as we can tell."
"As far as you can tell? Please elaborate on that."
"Our informant tells us she went to work in midtown … "
"Wait. Did you say midtown?"
"Yes, sir. It's the office of Joe Delvecchio, the owner of Java Beans & More."
"Yes, yes, I know. Go on."
"Apparently, they had an altercation whereby Vivi accused him of attacking her and attempted rape, but he claims she attacked him. She was then taken to the hospital and was discovered to have suffered a broken rib," Jack explains to me. By now I'm ready to climb out of my skin.
"Fuck, fucker." The motherfucker hurt her. He's going to pay.
"She is fine and the police have filed charges against Mr. Delvecchio."
"Jack, I want her tailed at all times. Don't let anything like this happen again. You understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"One more thing. I need the address of Mr. Delvecchio."
I hang up the phone and notice my fist is clenching and unclenching. I suppose it's in anticipation of what I'm going to do to Joe Delvecchio when I see him. That greasy motherfucker has it coming. Vivi will be the last woman he tries to assault.
There's one thing I hate and that's a bully. But a man who bullies a woman for sexual favors, a man who tries to force her, is lower than dog shit in my book.
When I'm done with him, Joe Delvecchio is going to wish he'd never met Vivi Renard.
Chapter 7
Vivi
It takes about a week before I can inhale without piercing pain shooting into my chest. Vince called when he heard what happened. Of course, it was because the police stopped by the shop and wanted to talk to him and Jackie, along with all the other employees. They even called Jenny. Everyone corroborated my story, putting Joe up a shit creek without a paddle. Vince checks up on me quite a bit now.
"I told you the man was dangerous. Thank God he didn't rape you," Vince says.
A violent shudder rips through me. "Don't remind me. I've never been so scared before."
"I'm so sorry that happened to you. But at least you're safe now."
Looking around my apartment, I'm not so sure about that. "Yeah," I say, though my voice is weak.
"You okay?"
"I'll be fine. I just need to get another job." Too bad my rib is still pretty sore.
"Well, take care of yourself. Don't forget, if you need anything, give me a call."
"Thanks, Vince. Hey, is the coffee shop still open?"
"Nah, they all closed. I think he's going to sell them."
"Damn. I wish I could buy them."
Vince laughs. "Me too. See ya, Vivi."
After I hang up, I check my emails again to see if there are any hits for jobs. Excitement strikes when I notice a new unread email, but it turns to sadness when it's from the website I listed the bracelet on. There is an offer for it very close to my asking price and I'm blown away. The email gives me all the pertinent information to contact the potential buyer. Before I lose my nerve, I quickly shoot off an email to him. I need the money and am out of options, I remind myself.
It's almost lunch, so I root around in the fridge for something to eat, but it's pretty bare. I grab the last apple and after it's gone, I take a hot shower. When I'm dressed and my hair is dried, I count the cash on hand and what's left in my checking account. It's pitiful. There's a total of one hundred twenty-seven dollars. Joe was supposed to pay me the day after he attacked me, which means that's not going to happen. If a job doesn't open up fast, I may be on the streets.