Dawson's Fall (Welcome to Covendale #5) (3 page)

Damn it, she did not want to feel guilty about this. Despite all of her resolutions to be strong and independent, to stand up to her family, she could already feel herself caving. Still, she tried again. “I really don’t think I’m what she’s looking for. I’m just not equipped to handle a big project yet.”

He shook his head. “Really, Aubrey, it’s just consulting. And she already loves your work.”

She made herself count to ten before responding. “All right,” she said. “I’ll do it. But you have to promise not to hire me out to anyone else without asking first. Okay?”

“It’s a promise.” He smiled and hugged her. “I think this will be a great experience for you,” he said. “Joliet is very influential. With her recommendation, you’ll have all the work you can handle.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she said with a smirk.

Her father drew back, and she thought there were tears in his eyes. “I’m just so proud of you,” he said. “And your mother…” He trailed off and looked away. “She would be, too.”

The lump in her throat kept her from responding—but it wasn’t just sadness. She was a tiny bit angry, and more than a little frustrated. While she was away, she’d finally gotten a handle on her grief over losing her mother. She’d realized her father and brother’s unending fury over the accident had prevented her from mourning. Being away from the toxic atmosphere had given her perspective. She was finally able to think of her mother with fond memories, instead of the aching sorrow she could never let out.

But apparently, the rest of her family still wasn’t ready to move on.

“Well,” her father said, pulling himself together. “I was going to call Joliet over, but it seems she’s on the way.”

Aubrey looked. The lady approached with a dazzling smile, and Jason still hanging on her arm. “You must have spoken by now,” Mrs. Vanderbright said as she swooped in. “Tell me you’ve agreed, dear. I simply must have your services. Your tastes are exquisite.”

In spite of herself, Aubrey smiled. “Well, if you insist,” she said.

“Oh, I do. This is wonderful news.” The woman beamed and clapped her hands together. “And you’ll start tomorrow? You can meet my crew at the site.”

“Tomorrow?” she said. “That’s Saturday.”

“Yes. My crew is very industrious.”

“I guess they are,” Aubrey said. “All right, I’ll be there tomorrow.”

“Perfect.” Mrs. Vanderbright opened her purse and produced a buff-colored envelope. “We’re on schedule to finish in two months,” she said. “I’d like you there every day with the crew. This is the address, and your consultation fee.”

Aubrey took the envelope slowly. “You knew I’d agree?”

“I hoped you would, dear.” Mrs. Vanderbright reached out and patted her hand. “I know good people when I meet them,” she said. “And I’d never hire anything less.”

“Of course,” she murmured.

“We’ll be in touch.” The woman winked. “Now, there seems to be a party going on here. Shall we join it?”

“Excellent idea,” Roger said. “Aubrey, have you said hello to the Deavers yet? I think you went to school with their oldest daughter.”

“Oh, yes…probably.” What she really needed was a moment to herself—and a drink. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute,” she said. “I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“Sure. You remember where it is?”

“I’m good.”

She watched the three of them head for the bulk of the party, and decided to peek in the envelope before she hit the bar. Might as well find out how much she was getting paid for being railroaded into this. Inside was a small card with an address written in elegant script, and a personal check made out to her.

For fifty thousand dollars.

It was all she could do not to scream. She almost wanted to bring the check to Mrs. V and point out that there must be an extra zero on it. Fifty thousand for two months’ work—that was more than she’d hoped to make in a year. She could replace her car, put a down payment on a permanent office for a business, and still have plenty left over.

Still reeling a bit, she stuffed the envelope in her pocket and headed for the bar. She could definitely afford a drink or two, or three.

* * * *

If there was one place Mark Dawson wanted to be right now, it was anywhere but The Klinker. The town bar held about as much appeal as hitting himself in the face with a hammer. He would’ve insisted on staying home, except he sort of owed Gage one.

And speaking of his younger brother, Gage seemed determined to find his last nerve and get on it tonight.

“Hey, what about Lisa Pollack?” Gage nudged him as the four of them made their way across the crowded bar toward the pool tables. “I happen to know she’s available, and she prefers dark, brooding jerks like you.”

“Gage. I don’t need a hookup.”

“You sure about that?” he said. “Because for a guy who’s supposed to be celebrating, you look pretty damned uptight.”

Mark stared at him. “This is my happy face.”

“Okay, bro.” Laughing, Gage held up a hand in surrender. “How about you, Jonah? Want me to find some girl who’s crazy enough to—”

One look from the eldest Dawson silenced Gage mid-sentence. He let out a sigh. “Fine,” he said. “I guess we’ll just play pool.”

“Looks like we might not do that either.” Mark frowned as they reached the back, only to find every pool table occupied. “Why’s this dump so packed tonight, anyway?”

“Could be that.” Reese Mathers—an honorary Dawson boy, since he was engaged to their little sister—pointed toward the big room that the place rented out for special occasions. It was full of people, and there was a huge WELCOME HOME banner strung above the entrance.

Oh, good. Another of Covendale’s finest, choosing to come back to this awful excuse for a town so everyone could make a big fuss over them. But since Mark didn’t really care who it was, the only thing that concerned him was finding a table in this mess.

Jonah spent a few minutes scanning the pool tables, and then seemed to find something he was looking for. “Wait here,” he said, heading for one nearby that was currently occupied.

“Jonah, what are you doing?” Mark said.

“Getting a table.”

“Don’t.”

His older brother flashed a rare smile. “Relax,” he said. “This isn’t business.”

“Oh, that makes me feel better,” Mark murmured. “You have a plan that doesn’t involve breaking anyone, right?”

“Sure I do.”

Frowning slightly, he watched Jonah approach a small group of college-looking kids who had a game in progress. He spoke to one of them briefly and pointed toward the back door of the place. The kid said something, and Jonah nodded. Then the kid grinned, gathered up his friends, and left.

“Damn, he’s good,” Gage said, clapping Reese on the shoulder. “Come on. I call first shot.”

Mark sighed and followed the two younger men to the table. At least it looked like Jonah hadn’t attracted too much attention to them—yet. He’d really prefer to get through tonight without a fight, or having to bail anyone out from jail. Thankfully, Gage had calmed down some since he’d gotten serious with Kyla.

But nothing would ever change the old Dawson reputation.

When Mark got there, Gage was giving him that look. “Whatever it is, the answer’s no,” he said.

“Man, why does everybody do that to me?” Gage rolled his eyes. “I was just gonna say, you should get us a pitcher. This is a party, right?”

He shrugged. “I still don’t know why we’re not saving the party until we’re finished.”

“Hey. We need to celebrate the little things.”

“I guess.”

“Come on, Mark.” For just a second, Gage looked serious. “You busted your ass to land this job, and we’re actually ahead of schedule. You deserve a night off to relax.”

“And this is relaxing.”

“Yep.” He grinned. “Now go get us some beer.”

“Asshole.”

“Beer bitch.”

Mark smirked and headed for the bar. He actually didn’t mind—and for once, he sort of agreed with Gage. They all deserved a night off, even if they had to work in the morning. Convincing Joliet Vanderbright to hire them on hadn’t been easy, but now they had the most lucrative contract he’d ever scored. And when they finished early, there’d be a massive bonus.

He couldn’t make this town respect his family, but they were damned well going to respect his business.

The bar was just as crowded as the rest of the place. He pushed his way through and saw both full-time bartenders working the counter alongside the owner, Jim Wyatt.

All three of them proceeded to ignore him.

He waited a good five minutes before he got really pissed. Just as he was about to start shouting, he saw a woman make her way up to the bar a few feet down from him—and Jim Wyatt immediately heading for her with a smile.

Jaw clenched, he broke away to head for the bar owner and his preferred client. “Hey, Wyatt,” he called angrily as he neared them. “Do I need to grow some tits to get a beer in this place, or should I just change my last name? I’ve been standing there for—”

The rant died in his mouth when the woman turned a shocked expression on him. “Mark?” she said. “Oh my God…Mark Dawson?”

Goddamn it. Well, now he knew who the big, ridiculous party was for. And there went eight years of hoping this moment never happened.

Aubrey Monroe was more beautiful—and more off-limits—than ever.

Chapter 2

Apparently the Dawsons hadn’t left town after all.

For what felt like forever, Aubrey couldn’t do anything but stare. If she ever did see Mark again, she’d kind of expected…well, not this. A receding hairline, a few missing teeth, maybe a beer belly, and toss in a dirty baseball cap for good measure. Her face burned as she realized she was thinking in stereotypes, going along with the general town theory that the Dawsons were just a bunch of white trash.

But Mark was a hell of a lot more man than anyone she’d seen around here lately. Same green eyes and dark hair, with extra muscle and tan. And a whole lot of fury.

The way he looked at her, like he’d just read her mind, made her want to find a rock somewhere and crawl under it. Then she realized he might not even recognize her. If he’d really been waiting at the bar forever, and she’d walked right up and got service, maybe he was just pissed off about that. “Um. We went to school together,” she managed to say. “Class of—”

“I know damned well who you are.” His voice was low and tight, like the idea of speaking to her disgusted him. “I take it you’re not just here for a visit,” he said. “Moving back home?”

“How did you…oh.” She’d practically forgotten about the party, and the big stupid banner. “Yes, I’m here for good,” she said. “Not home, but in town.”

“Of course you are. Things were just starting to look up for me.”

She decided to ignore that as best she could. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Really? You’re making small talk?” He folded his arms, and she couldn’t help noticing how big they were. “Well, I’m obviously not drinking beer.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Look, I’ll tell Jim to…” She trailed off as she realized the bar owner had made himself scarce, and the people around them had pulled away. Great, now she was making a scene. If she didn’t stop this soon, it would make its way back to her father and brother—and then there’d be real trouble. “I, er, have to go,” she said.

“Without your drink?”

“I’m not thirsty,” she said faintly, taking a step back.

“You sure about that?” He moved forward with a sneer. “I think you just don’t want to be seen talking to me.”

“I…”

He lowered his arms, and his hands clenched into fists. “All this time, and you haven’t changed a bit,” he said. “And by the way? That’s not a compliment.”

After a brief, penetrating stare, he turned abruptly and pushed through the crowd.

Aubrey shivered and blinked, then turned back to the bar, where Jim Wyatt had magically reappeared with the drink she’d ordered. Part of her wanted to be angry about that, but she was still in shock. And she really wasn’t thirsty anymore.

Maybe coming back to Covendale wasn’t such a great idea. She could’ve set up shop anywhere she wanted to. Someplace without a past that wanted to drag her down. But for now, she was more or less stuck. She had an apartment with a lease, and she’d just been railroaded into accepting a fifty-thousand-dollar job.

Well, she’d just have to avoid Mark Dawson until the job was done. Then if things weren’t any better, she could pick up and leave.

She left the drink on the bar without a word to Jim and headed back to the party room, hoping that people weren’t talking in here. Everything seemed normal. She spotted Jason and made her way toward him with a reasonable expression.

“Hey, sis,” he said. “Did everything come out okay?”

“What do you mean?” she blurted. “I’m fine. Nothing happened.”

He frowned. “Did I miss something? I didn’t think there was much going on in the bathroom.”

“Oh. Right.” She’d completely forgotten that’s where she said she was going. “Well, you know how girls are,” she said. “They go in packs, so it was pretty crowded.”

Too late. He was already suspicious—she could see it in his eyes. “What’s going on, Bree?” he said.

“Nothing,” she said. “I just wanted a drink, but I didn’t get one.”

“Well, I’ll grab you one. What are you having?”

“It’s fine. I’ll get one later.” She smiled and looked around the room. Anywhere but out into the rest of the bar. “Where’s Dad?”

“He walked Mrs. V. to her car.” Jason’s eyes narrowed a touch. “Look, are you sure you don’t want a drink?” he said. “Because I think I’m going to get one.”

“No, wait. It’s really crowded out there, and—”

A burst of shouting came from the main bar room, and Aubrey’s stomach dropped. She couldn’t tell whose voice it was. But somehow, she knew their father must’ve run into Mark.

Jason turned slowly toward the sound. His expression shifted from surprise to rage in an instant. “Son of a
bitch
,” he said, and shot her a sharp look. “Those scumbags said something to you, didn’t they?”

Scumbags, plural? Oh, God. That had to mean all the Dawson boys were here. And if Jason confronted them, they’d probably mop the floor with him. “No one said anything,” she said. “Just drop it, okay? We don’t need to get into this tonight.”