some sort of savant at reading drunk men. Because she was doing so well, Danielle was able to meet with her boyfriend and the contractors at the building that would be her own pub and restaurant in about a month and a half.
Today, there was HVAC work being done, as well as some last-minute paneling in a back room that would serve as a reserved room for larger parties. When she arrived at the scene, her boyfriend was looking over a contract with an electrician. They were sitting at one of the tables that had recently been unpacked—one of three set-ups Danielle was supposed to choose from in terms of the types of tables she’d have in the restaurant.
Her boyfriend saw her as she entered. He quickly said something to the electrician and then came over to meet her. His name was Sam Dekker and while he wasn’t necessarily the most honest or intelligent man, he made up for it in rugged good looks and a shrewd yet refined business acumen. He was about eight inches taller than she was so when he gave her a quick kiss, he had to lean down to do so.
“Reporting for duty,” she said. “What can I do today?”
Sam shrugged, looking around the place in an almost theatrical fashion. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s too much you can do. It’s all starting to fall into place. I know it might seem silly, but you might want to start looking through the ABC catalogue and figure out which brands of liquor you prefer to serve. Go ahead and figure out where you want the little overhead speakers for music and things like that. Those are the sorts of things that get lost in the shuffle and suddenly pop up as last-minute nuisances near the end of the project.”
“I guess I can do that,” she said, a little disappointed.
There were days when she stepped onto the renovation site and felt as if Sam was really just entertaining her—giving her menial tasks to do so he could handle the important things. It felt degrading in a sense but she also had to remind herself that Sam knew what he was doing. He had opened three bars that were doing incredibly well, one of which he sold to some big national company last year for more than ten million dollars.
And now he was choosing to back her in her own little endeavor. It was an endeavor that he’d had to talk her into. He insisted that she had the smarts to run a place like this, but only after all of the moving parts had been set into place.
Most girls that date semi-wealthy guys get jewelry and cars, she thought as she walked to the soon-to-be lounge area. Me…I got a bar. Not a bad deal, I guess.
She did feel a little out of her depth most of the time when she thought about the road ahead. She’d actually be in charge of a place. She’d be running things and making decisions. There was also a degree of guilt to it as well. She felt the opportunity had been handed to her for no real reason other than she had happened to end up in a relationship with a guy that knew how to get businesses started. As a result, she was aware that there were many things she had to sacrifice and things she simply allowed Sam to get away with. She never questioned his late nights out, always buying the stories that he was in meetings or with contractors, wining and dining them. She’d been a part of some of those meetings, so she knew it was true—most of the time.
She also felt that she had to show her appreciation as often as she could. That meant not nagging when she didn’t see him for several days. It meant not getting too up in arms when he expected certain things in the bedroom. It meant not getting pissy because despite buying her a bar and trusting her to run it, the whole idea of marriage had not been mentioned a single time. Danielle was pretty sure Sam had no intentions of getting married. And for now, she was fine with that, so she saw no reason to argue about it.
Besides…what did she have to complain about? She’d finally met a guy who treated her like royalty—when he was around—and she seemed to be on a path to easily earned success.
It’s because most things that seem too good to be true usually are, she thought.
When she reached the room that was going to be the lounge area, she pulled the digital blueprints up on her phone. She made indications where the speakers could go and also made a note about potentially adding some sort of tinted window along the back wall. It was in doing things like this that she felt the dream of it all becoming a reality. Somehow, this was all really happening to her.
“Hey…”
She turned and saw Sam standing in the framed doorway. He was smiling at her and looking at her with the hungry expression he often shot her way when he was feeling frisky.
“Hey yourself,” she said.
“I know it seems like I just brushed you off,” he said. “But really…these next few weeks, all I’m really going to need from you are a few signatures.”
“You’re working me too hard,” she joked.
“I fully intended for your training with the newbie at the bar to take longer. It’s not my fault we ended up hiring a bartending genius.” He approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She had to look up into his eyes but it always made her feel safe for some odd reason; it made her feel like this man would always literally watch over her.
“Let’s grab lunch later today,” Sam said. “Something simple. Pizza and beer.”
“Sounds good.”
“And tomorrow…what do you say we go somewhere. A beach…South Carolina or somewhere like that.”
“Really? That seems spontaneous and very much like a burden to all of this work around us. In other words…it sounds nothing like you.”
“I know. But I’ve been getting so wrapped up in this project and…I realize I’ve been neglecting you. So I want to make it up to you.”
“Sam, you’re giving me my own business. That’s more than enough.”
“Fine. I’ll be selfish about it then. I want to get away from all of this and be naked and alone with you near the ocean. That sound better?”
“It does, actually.”
“Good. So go to the bar, check in on the newbie. I’ll pick you up for lunch around noon.”
She kissed him and although he was clearly rushing it, the sentiment of everything he had just said did not escape her. She knew it was hard for him to be emotional and sincere. She rarely saw that side of him so when she did, she dared not question it.
Danielle walked back through the mostly open spaces of the old brick building that would soon be her bar-slash-lounge. It was hard to think of it as hers, but that was very much the case.
When she stepped outside, the sun seemed brighter than it had when she had gone in. She smiled, still trying to make sense of everything her life had become. She thought of Chloe again and made the decision to call her in the next few days. Everything else in her life was going so well, she may as well try repairing the tense relationship between her and Chloe, too.
She got into her car and headed back to Sam’s other bar—the bar he had hired her to work in six months ago. She was so distracted by the thought of going away with him for the weekend that she didn’t notice the car parked on the side of the street as it inched out into traffic behind her.
If she had noticed it, she might have recognized the driver, though she hadn’t seen him in a very long time.
Still, did a daughter ever truly forget what the face of her father looked like?
CHAPTER FIVE
When Chloe and Moulton arrived at Garcia’s office, Director Johnson was already there, waiting for them. It appeared that he and Garcia had been looking through case files; Garcia had a few pulled up on his desktop screen while Johnson had a small pile of printouts in front of him.
“Thanks for coming so quickly,” Johnson said. “We’ve got a case out in Virginia—a small town on the other side of Fredericksburg, in an upscale neighborhood. And I should probably start with saying that the victim’s family has some very powerful political friends. That’s why we’ve been called in. Well, that and the gruesome nature of the death.”
As Chloe took a seat