Dirty Work

"From the beginning I was hooked. It's an emotional story of survival, trust and hope." - Amazon reviewer

"This story was emotional, sweet and a little funny all rolled into one great story. A story about finding your soulmate when you least expect it. I really enjoyed this book and can’t wait to read more book in this series and by this author." - Reading in the Red Room

Chapter One

Trinity

“And influencer samples will be mailed by Friday?” Meeting with my team virtually via Zoom, I look up from my checklist. When I’m met by silence, I prompt, “Kelsie?”

“Yes.” She smiles brightly. “Sorry, I just got the preprinted notecards that I’m putting in the boxes today and I paused when you asked because the order was short, but I can go to a print shop and get more made next week.”

“Okay, what else?”

We’re twenty-three days from the launch of Allura, the first drugstore line for Kiss My Sass, the cosmetics company I work for. And as a vice president of Allura’s marketing department, I’m in charge of the team planning the launch. It wasn’t a great time to take a couple of days away from the office to come see my older brother’s pro hockey exhibition game in Fairbanks, Alaska, but here I am. Zooming from a gloomy hotel room. 

As my team members detail the status of launch preparations, I glance between their faces on my laptop screen and the door to my hotel room. I know Ronan, the guy I went on two dates with a few months ago, isn’t going to charge into the room because he doesn’t have a key. Still, he figured out I was coming here and followed me. I’m panicking inside about what else he’s capable of. 

“Legal is still negotiating the Ella London deal,” Jack says. “She wants more money.”

“Dammit.” His comment brings my mind back to the meeting. “What about all the videos we already had produced with her?”

“Hopefully we’ll be able to use them. But legal says for now, we can’t use her name, her likeness or any materials with her in them.”

My heart pounds and I get the buzzing sensation in my head my anxiety always brings on. Ella London is an actress and model who’s the backbone of Allura’s marketing. Without her, we’re screwed.

“When will this be resolved?” I ask Jack.

“I’ve tried to pin legal down, but—”

The sound of my hotel room door’s lock clicking open makes my pulse pound nervously. It’s not Ronan, but still...I can’t stop fearing it might be until the door is pushed open and I see my brother Dalton walking inside.

And from his expression, I can tell he’s pissed.

“Why aren’t you at the police station like I told you?” 

I glare at him. “I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

In four seconds flat, he’s already stomped all the way across my hotel room, where he looks at my computer screen and barks, “She’ll call you back,” before shutting it.

“Dalton! I’m their boss! That was so unprofessional.” Dalton is a pro hockey player who intimidates people for a living, but I don’t take shit like this from him.

He scowls down at me, hands on his hips. “Why the fuck am I just finding out some asshole is stalking you? How long has this been going on?”

I sigh heavily, the buzzing sensation returning. “I went on two dates with him in October. He’s been calling and texting since. He’s shown up at my apartment a few times. But nothing like this has happened before.”

I don’t tell my brother that Ronan has probably been looking for me at my apartment a lot more than I’m aware of because I often sleep on the couch in my downtown Chicago office. The building security there is tight.

“So tell me what happened. Did he come up to you at the game, or did you just happen to see him?”

“I saw him walking toward me, waving like we knew each other. But the usher stopped him because I was in the VIP section. And then I told an usher what was going on and they had someone from security get me to a cab after the game so I could get back here.”

My brother’s eyes are blazing with fury. “I told you to go to the police station. What the hell were you thinking coming back here by yourself when some psycho is after you?”

My face is hot and I’m suddenly sweaty. Dalton is making this stressful situation even worse.

“I had a meeting.” I reach for the bottle of medication in my bag, my hands trembling as I open the bottle.

He looks up at the ceiling. “You had a meeting.” When he looks at me again, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “You are the most incredible combination of smart and stupid I’ve ever known.”

“I flew seven fucking hours to watch your game in a place where it gets dark before four p.m. Don’t be an asshole. I have a launch in twenty-three days and that might not mean anything to you, but it means everything to me. I’m incredibly busy at work right now.”

He puts a palm out. “You’re right, I’m sorry. But Trin, this guy following you from Chicago to fucking Alaska has me on edge. If I could find him right now, I’d probably kill him.”

He’s always been overprotective. Partly because it’s just who he is and partly because our dad died when Dalton was thirteen and I was ten. For the past sixteen years, Dalton has tried to be a big brother who fills as much of the space left behind by our dad’s loss as he can, and I love him for that.

“I’ll go to the police when I get home,” I assure him. “And I’ll--”

“You’re not going home.”

I pinch my brows together in a skeptical look. “Yes, I am. My flight leaves at six twenty tomorrow morning.”

“You’re flying out of a small private airport as soon as I drop you off there. One of my teammates is going with you and he’ll take you to my place in Minneapolis and stay with you until I get home.”

My jaw drops. “No, absolutely not.”

“I’d take you myself, but I have team captain shit tonight I can’t miss. Interviews and stuff. Lincoln’s my best friend on the team, I’d trust him with my life.”

“It’s not about you taking me or not taking me, I have to get home to prep for the launch.”

He folds his arms across his chest and frowns. “You’ve told me you can work remotely.”

My laugh is laced with the stress I’m feeling. “Not twenty-three days before a launch.”

“You’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs. “I’m not letting you go back home with this guy getting ballsier and ballsier about stalking you. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.”

I bury my face in my hands. “What if I told you it’s not actually about you?”

“The fuck it’s not. You’re my sister.”

“Dalton—” I give him an imploring look and he slices a hand through the air dismissively.

“You aren’t moving in with me or anything, okay? This might only be for a day or two. Once the cops in Chicago find him and have a talk with him, you can go back home.”

I stand, coming face to face with him, torn between aggravation and affection for my stubborn brother. “I can go home anytime I want because I’m a twenty-six-year-old adult.”

He groans. “Just do this, Trin. Please. For me. I’m really worried about you.” When I don’t answer right away, he adds, “You know I’m right. It’s not normal for a man to follow you to fucking Alaska when you went out with him a couple of times in October.”

I exhale heavily, hating to admit he’s right. The timing couldn’t be worse, but Dalton is saying out loud what I’ve been denying for a while; I need to take Ronan’s actions more seriously, whether it’s convenient for me or not.

“Fine. But I can’t stay more than a few days, and I mean that. I have to be in the office all week next week. I’m compromising now and I need you to be open to compromising too.”

He considers. “I could always hire private security for you. We’ll work it out.”

I glance down at my watch. “When did you say we have to be at the airport?”

“There’s a private plane and pilot on standby for us. Linc’s meeting us there.”

I pick up my cell phone from the desk. “Let me text my coworkers about my overbearing brother cutting off our meeting and then I’ll pack my stuff.”

“I’ll pack for you.” He starts toward my open suitcase on the king-size bed.

“No.” I say it firmly. “You’ll manhandle my stuff.”

“Have you told Mom about your stalker?”

I scoff and look up from my phone screen. “What do you think? If I’d told her, you’d know about it.”

“She’s gonna flip her shit and fly straight to Chicago with her baseball bat.”

His mention of our mom’s “security system”—an old, solid wood baseball bat—when we were growing up makes me laugh. I don’t doubt that Maria Lorenzo—all one hundred and twenty pounds of her--really could use that thing to take out someone who was threatening one of her children. I got my hazel eyes, strong work ethic and functional anxiety from her.

Well, mostly functional. If my mom flew in from her Tampa retirement community because she was worried about the Ronan thing and stayed for more than two weeks, my anxiety would skyrocket. I love her more than anything, but the way she reorganizes my apartment and nags me about not dating makes me crazy after several days.

I text my work team, then quickly pack my belongings that are scattered around the room. Dalton shakes his head as he picks up my full suitcase.

“Did you really need all this for a two-night trip?”

“I didn’t know how cold it would be.”

He points at my boots, his brow furrowed. “I don’t think you were worried about the cold when you bought those.”

I glance at my suede Jimmy Choo ankle boots, purchased with a work bonus a few months ago. “These are lined with shearling. They’re warm.”

“You need tall, practical boots here. And a parka.”

I slide into my cream-colored quilted coat. “I didn’t ask you for fashion advice. And this was just a quick visit. I won’t be coming back to Alaska in January ever again.”

“You ready?”

I nod. “And congrats on the win, by the way.”

“Thanks, but it was an exhibition, so it doesn’t count.” He opens the hotel room door, using his arm to hold me back while he looks up and down the hallway.

“Checking for snipers?” I crack.

“Laugh it up,” he says with a glare. “I’m just trying to keep you from ending up stuffed in some psychopath’s trunk.”

My mom and brother can guilt me like no one else. “I know. I’m sorry.”

He leads the way to a rental SUV, locking me inside the vehicle before taking his eyes off me so he can load my suitcase into the back. When he unlocks his door and gets in beside me, I smile, not letting on how stressed I am.

My boss, Gloria, would understand why I’m going to Minneapolis if I explained it to her. Her first husband was abusive and Gloria now serves on the board for an organization that supports survivors of domestic abuse. She’d probably pull me off the launch campaign and tell me to work on something else until I feel safe returning to Chicago.

That’s the last thing I want. I’ve worked hard to get here. So many early mornings, late nights and quick lunches eaten at my desk. Everyone at the company knows the Allura launch is my baby. I even got to sit in on a meeting with Kate Ryker, our CEO. If I’m taken off the project now, others will get credit for my hard work, and there won’t be another opportunity like this for a long time.

All because a fucking man couldn’t take no for an answer. I’m completely over domineering alphas who expect every woman to fall to her knees over them. 

I tell Dalton about the Allura launch on our drive to a small, private airport outside Fairbanks. He listens while checking the rearview mirror every minute or so to make sure nothing is amiss. If we encounter Ronan, I don’t even want to think about what my brother might do to him.

When Dalton parks, gets out and closes his door, I open a bottle in my bag, take out a pill and swallow it. Hydroxyzine should help tamp my anxiety over flying in a small plane.

As soon as I step out of the vehicle in the airport parking lot, a blast of icy air smacks me in the face and throws open my unbuttoned coat. There are no trees and very few buildings here to block the wind, and the painful cold of it is a shock to my system.

I pull up my hood and button my coat, keeping my head down as I follow Dalton. We walk into a building that’s more like a large shed, nothing but two men standing by a desk littered with Styrofoam cups and overflowing with paper.

“Hey,” one of the men says to Dalton as we approach. “This is our pilot, Chris Stanton.”

Dalton shakes Chris’s hand and glances over at me. “This is my sister Trinity. Trin, Lincoln and Chris.”

Lincoln shakes my hand first, his expression so serious it’s almost a frown. He’s tall, with broad shoulders, dark hair and coffee-colored eyes. In his parka and knee-high boots, he looks more like a rugged local hunting guide than a hockey player. 

As soon as our handshake ends, he looks at the door to the building and scans the sparse interior, seeming to verify we’re still the only three people in here.

“Trinity, I’m Chris.” Our pilot is the opposite of Lincoln. He looks around fifty, his silver hair cropped short. Beneath his coat, he’s wearing a bright Hawaiian shirt and he’s grinning. “You ready to take a little ride in Gertie?”  He leans in slightly. “That’s what I call my plane. She’s my pride and joy.”

“Sure.” I force a smile. “Thanks for taking us on such short notice.” 

He shrugs and laughs. “Hey, you know what they say about money talking. She’s all fueled up and waiting.”

Dalton and Lincoln exchange a look and Dalton says, “The sooner you can get her out of here, the better.”

“I’ll take good care of her,” Lincoln promises.

I suppress an eye roll. They’re talking about me the same way Chris talks about his plane. Like I’m a thing instead of an adult who’s right here.

Dalton passes Lincoln my suitcase. “I know you will, brother. Text me as soon as you land.”

Lincoln nods and holds out a hand, indicating I should follow behind Chris. “I’ll be right behind you.”

I think these two are seriously overestimating Ronan, but I know Dalton is only trying to protect me, so I give my brother a quick hug and follow Chris. 

It’s just a quick plane ride and hopefully, a few days in Minneapolis. No big deal.