Grace's Redemption, page 5
He indicated the chair across from my desk with a questioning look.
“Oh, please sit,” I said.
He took a seat and faced me with a too-polished smile. “Thank you.”
I laced my fingers and waited, silently giving him the floor.
“My apologies for bombarding you like this. I know you must be busy, first day and all.” He straightened his tie, clearly not sorry at all. “But I’m also a very busy man, and I was very much looking forward to meeting you today. When our appointment was canceled, I was terribly disappointed.”
“And so you felt the need to come by anyway?” I quipped.
“Only for a moment.” He eyed me like a shark that sensed chum in the water. “I realize you’re new to town, but I believe it’s very important for us to get to know each other. You see, most folks see me as an important man in these parts. I own several businesses here in Redemption, employ hundreds.” He smiled as if he were some sort of savior. “I try to help out as many as I can.”
“I see,” I said.
He crossed his legs and brushed at some imaginary lint. “Yes. So, I consider it my civic duty to reach out to all those in public leadership, such as yourself, and form connections. Assist however I can, if you will.” His beady eyes homed in on mine. “I had very special relationships with both Chief LaVeaux and Chief Bollinger before you. I do hope we can also come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“Mutually beneficial?”
“Why yes.” His grin was so slimy, it made my teeth ache.
“And what exactly does that mean, Mr. Pittman?”
“Oh, you know . . .” His eyes slid slowly around my office like a predator on the prowl. “No photographs of your late wife? Your precious little girl . . . Olivia, is it?”
My hackles immediately rose, sending my protective instincts into hyperdrive. I rose to my feet, unable to do anything else. “Excuse me?”
He rose as well, much slower than me, running a hand down the front of his jacket. “Just a simple question, Chief Beckett.” He moved toward the door and tipped his head in some kind of sick, formal adieu. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again soon. You have yourself a good day, Chief.”
I stood there long after he was gone, staring at the door. What the fuck had just happened? What the hell was going on in this town? More importantly, what had I gotten myself and Olivia into? Clearly, I needed to have a little heart-to-heart with Gabe when he got back, because Redemption looked like more than just a sleepy little swamp town in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, Louisiana.
I stepped out and glanced at Louise. “Who the hell is that asshole?” I demanded without preamble.
“The town peacock,” she replied with a bite to her voice. “Only he’s not as pretty and he bites.”
“Bites?”
She huffed. “When he was a little boy, Cyrus Pittman was a big bully. As he’s gotten older, he’s no better. Only now, he’s a rich bully who likes to throw his weight around and make other people feel small, including his wives from what I hear.”
Something in me recoiled even further, hearing that. “Any trouble with the law?”
“Not that I know of, but—he’s the kind that would pay his way out of a jaywalking ticket.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. It did not sit well with me that a man like that knew anything about my personal life and had taken the time to make an appearance today as a . . . what? A not-so-veiled attempt at bribery? A threat? Well, either way, he could kiss my ass. I didn’t give a shit how things were done before I got to town. I didn’t play that way. Especially with assholes like him.
“Alright.” I tapped her desk. “All good with this afternoon’s meeting?”
“Yes, sir—” She glanced up, saw my tilted head, and smiled. I guess first names were going to be hard for her. “Yes. Everyone is coming and I’ll say they are all curious to know what it’s about.”
“Were you able to get the packets made?”
“I was.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
She tipped her head in acknowledgment and I strode back to my office to prepare for the meeting in the little time I had left.
Three hours later, on my first day on the job, I’d let every leader under my command know, in no uncertain terms, that getting the growing drug and crime problem in Redemption under control was number one on our priority list. Followed closely by finding out what happened to the retired police chief. Period. End of story. No fucking excuses. Anything else that took precious resources away from those endeavors, beyond the normal, day-to-day running of each department, had to be cleared by me.
They sat in stunned silence for a full minute.
Apparently, nobody had ever held them to the fire like this. Well, there was a new sheriff in town, terrible pun intended, and I was taking no prisoners. I had been asked to do a job by the mayor, one that I took very seriously, and if they didn’t like it, they could get the fuck out.
My deputy chief, Craig Clark, was the first to speak up. Closing his packet of papers, he eyed me with respect from behind his thick-rimmed glasses. “Sounds like a plan, Chief. Happy to help however I can.”
I nodded, relieved. Craig was one of those affable types, easy to get along with, cool and easygoing. Slow to speak but always thinking, he seemed to have a toothpick between his lips at all times—at least he had the few times we’d spoken via Skype as I prepared to take on my role and he’d shown up with one this morning. I’d wondered a few times why he hadn’t thrown his hat in the ring for the chief’s job, being a few years older, but he waved me off when I tried to ask, saying something about having enough gray hair as it was.
Eventually, the other men around the table began to get with the program and mumble similar sentiments. I saw them all out and sat at my desk with a sigh. All in all, a productive first day.
I glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes until I had to leave to pick up Olivia. God, I hoped she had a good first day, too.
My cell phone buzzed with a text, and I grabbed it, thinking it was probably my mom, checking in on us.
Nope.
A number I didn’t recognize filled my screen.
This is Grace.
Ah.
Olivia is amazing . . . you must be so proud.
My heart melted in my chest. I wasn’t too much of a man to admit that my little girl was my whole world and my weakness.
Shaking my head, I saved her number in my contacts.
Olivia’s teacher. What were the fucking odds?
Me: She is and I am.
Grace: So I’ve had all day to think.
Me: I’ve had since you ran out of my room.
Grace: . . .
Me: OK fine, and?
Grace: We need to talk.
Me: . . .
Grace: I’m serious.
I wanted to throw my phone against the wall. Instead, I set it down out of my reach and sat back in my chair, counting to ten. Blowing out a breath then, I picked it back up. Another text came in.
Grace: Can you come to the classroom to pick up Olivia today?
Me: Sure.
Grace: OK.
Me: OK.
Grace: One more thing . . .
Me: What’s that?
Grace: I wish we could rewind and be back in Vegas.
I stared down at my screen, unable to respond. The boil she’d started in my blood instantly cooled as the what-the-fucks bombarded my brain. This woman was going to make me crazy.
I wasn’t sure how to interpret her message—did she want to rewind and erase ever meeting me? Maybe meet, but make sure condoms were involved? Did she want to have a replay of our time together that she could actually remember?
No. Probably not.
But the weirdest part? When she wasn’t pissing me off, I wanted that replay. Of all the decadent moments we’d had, only now with peeling off that sweet preschool teacher exterior.
And that was all kinds of fucked up.
CHAPTER FIVE
Grace
It was a day.
My hands wouldn’t quit shaking.
I always gave new kids to my classroom extra attention to make them feel welcome. Encourage participation. But every time I engaged with Olivia, my heart raced. Every time I looked into that sweet little face that smiled the same way her father did—sweet Jesus, my ovaries twitched.
And my damned ovaries needed to stay asleep. God, I hoped everything was still asleep.
Olivia didn’t resemble him much, with her dark eyes and hair, but that smile and quiet, observant way she had—like she was taking notes in her head—that was all him.
Him.
My voice kept doing a weird high-pitched thing, essentially because I was breathing in more than out, and Bobby Terrell had to ask me to please slow down when I gave art instructions. My TA, Felicity, kept darting quizzical looks at me, and I couldn’t blame her. I had all the markings of a crazed caffeine bender, like I’d downed fifteen cups before class and had concentrated espresso in my mug.
Mateo was here. In Redemption. With a child.
The new police chief.
He wasn’t going anywhere.
Mateo Beckett.
My last name was Beckett.
I dropped the chalk, halfway around the drawing of an apple, and it fell to the floor in two crumbly pieces.
“Why don’t we go ahead with a bathroom break before music time?” Felicity offered after lunch, her big bright smile drawing the children’s attention. Normally, she didn’t take charge, but she seemed to sense that I wasn’t on my best game. Understatement of the day. “Ladies first. Girls, stand up and form a line.”
I mouthed a ‘thank you’ her way, and she gave a little wink and nod like she understood, woman code and all that. I didn’t understand a damn thing, except that my life looked a lot like that chalk right now. Crumbling by the minute.
“Ladies always get to go first,” Matty Carendo muttered from the second table.
“Not true,” I said, taking a deep breath and letting it go. “We take turns, Matty, you know that.”
“But at home, my dad always says that,” he said. “My sister always gets the good stuff.”
“Your dad probably says it because he has good manners,” I said.
Xavier Carter raised his hand, and I sighed before nodding his way. His mom always sent him to school in a bow tie. I swore if I ever had kids, I’d never send them to school looking like uptight adults.
If I ever had kids.
“Yes, Xavier?” I said, my voice sounding choked.
“Girls have to pee more because they have gin-ees and it’s just a big hole for babies to come out, so it’ll all fall out if they don’t go,” he said.
That, of course, brought on a full class of giggles and wide-eyed pointing, and a couple of girls glancing down in confusion as they stood. I made a note on my daily activity sheet next to Xavier’s name to include that little gem in his home folder.
“Not how it works, Xavier,” I said. “At all. Okay, guys, while you’re waiting, one at a time, tell me your favorite color.”
Hands shot up, and one by one I called on them, mindlessly, as the girls filed out, Olivia already laughing with another girl, Charissa. Fitting in.
His daughter.
My stepdaughter.
Holy fuck.
I clasped my hands together and pressed them against my belly. I couldn’t think like that. It wasn’t going to last long enough for Olivia to ever know I was anything but her teacher. Oh, my God, to have to tell the principal and the administrator. No, no, no, no. This had to get over with quickly.
Yeah, because those were the reasons.
It had nothing to do with the way my body lit on fire the second Mateo had turned around this morning. When his eyes met mine. Jesus, it was a miracle that I hadn’t liquified into a puddle on the floor.
Red. Green. Purple. Brown . . .
“Brown?” I said, chuckling. “That’s an interesting choice.”
“Because it looks like dirt and I like dirt,” Bobby said, nodding.
I nodded back. “Good job matching that up.”
“I like white,” Xavier said when I called on him.
Of course, he did.
“White isn’t a color,” Nick Baxter said.
“It’s in the crayon box,” Xavier said coolly. “So, it’s a color.”
My heart rate slowed with the repetitive activity. The distraction. Even when the girls filed back in and chimed in on the topic, I felt like I’d fallen back into my rhythm. My good place. Here with my kids, it was always my good place.
Then Olivia’s hand went up, and I smiled at her.
“I like bright blue,” she said. “Like the sky. It’s where my mommy went. My daddy bought me a blanket that color and it’s my favorite.”
My tongue froze up in my mouth.
Olivia’s mother? I’d asked him.
Gone.
She’d died?
Oh, my God. My eyes burned with unexpected tears for this little girl. For a family. For the stranger I’d banged in a Vegas hotel. They’d lost a wife and a mother somewhere along the way, and now were starting over in a new place.
They didn’t need additional drama any more than I did. Yet, looking into his little girl’s eyes, I could begrudgingly understand just a little bit better why he was hanging on to his moral compass so tightly. Still—now that he lived here—
If I was pregnant, I’d be attached to them forever, because he’d insist on it. And every sanctimonious asshole in Redemption would eventually find out the backstory. If I wasn’t . . . well, life would go on.
With the hottest man on earth protecting our town, a constant reminder of the bad decisions I made when I let down my walls. Of the most delicious and decadent night of my life. That I could never have again.
Because—this was the real world. And in my world, I wasn’t the sister who got those things. Faith was the happy one. Hope was the cynic who left town to find her peace. I was the responsible one who just kept things going. The glue.
Glue didn’t get to be delicious or decadent.
We needed to talk.
Later, I pulled out the new student packet I’d been given for Olivia. Her emergency information listed Mateo’s number, and I pulled an unprofessional move I’d never done before. Texted a parent in a personal capacity.
Or—I typed it out. Deleted. Typed it again.
This is Grace.
Yep. That was brilliant. Profound, even.
Olivia is amazing . . . you must be so proud.
To both my dismay and relief, he answered almost immediately, agreeing. Then I jumped in with both feet, asking him to come to the classroom to pick her up so we could talk. It was feasible for a first day parent to come talk to the teacher, so it wouldn’t be out of place. And I wanted to make sure I saw him face-to-face.
Mateo: Sure.
I blew out a breath and we went back and forth with a string of babbling okays and then I said what had been on my mind for days.
Me: I wish we could rewind and be back in Vegas.
Because I did. All of this could have been prevented if I’d just stayed on my game and not gotten wasted. If I’d kept my wits about me. Maybe met him and just made a friend, actually found out where he was going and had a laugh about coming to my small town, and that I could show him around, and hey—then maybe we would have hit it off.
Not that I was his type, but damn, the man made me feel all the things.
And that was dangerous.
When the time came, and I walked the children out to the sidewalk for pickup, my skin felt prickly. Like all the air was Mateo-infused, waiting to blanket me.
I made an effort to look around without appearing to look around, which probably made me look twitchy, but the second my eyes met his, it didn’t matter. Heat rushed me, flushing my skin from head to toe, and turning my mouth to a sandy desert.
Felicity bumped into me from behind, making me realize I’d stopped.
“Sorry,” I breathed, clearing my throat as I moved on.
I went about my routine, matching each child up with their ride, helping Dixie’s sub with hers, chatting with a few parents, and purposely avoiding the Becketts standing off to one side.
When all were accounted for, and the nosy moms were done batting their eyes at the new dad in the pickup line, I headed their way. His chin lifted as I approached, and his fingers spread on Olivia’s shoulders protectively.
My tenseness melted a fraction at the move. She was his world. Nothing was clearer than that. And damn it, there went my ovaries again.
“Mr. Beckett,” I said, nearly choking on the words.
One eyebrow rose in response. “You wanted to—”
“Chief Beckett!”
The shrill, always flirty voice that sounded the same whether she was addressing a man or a child, shrieked from behind me, making me cringe.
To his credit, he did the same, a fight or flight expression crossing his face.
“Kat Chambers!” the bouncy redhead said as she rounded me like I was a potted plant in her path. “Charissa’s mom?” she added, pulling her daughter beside her like that would clear it up.
Her makeup was perfect. Her auburn hair was in a messy bun that I was sure took a good hour to achieve, with just the right wispy bangs and tendrils around her face. Her halter tank and workout shorts displayed her toned curves much more than usual, telling me that this single mom had heard the news early in the day and planned her assault.
“Charissa?” Mateo echoed.
“That’s my new friend,” Olivia said, stepping forward to hug Charissa.
“They hit it off right away,” I said. Kat looked at me like I’d just appeared there. “Charissa was very helpful today, getting Olivia acclimated.”
Kat smiled and caressed her daughter’s strawberry-blond ponytail. “Thank you,” she said, laying her other hand against the swell of pushed-up boobs. “It’s so good to hear that my influence in helping others is resonating with her.”
Oh, Lord. My inner groan wanted to come out and slap her.
“You know what?” she continued, her eyes going wide. “I’m bringing Charissa to a painting class and then to get pizza—it’s our Monday night tradition—would Olivia like to come along?”
