Page 9 of Going Too Far


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My gaze went from Brielle’s door to her neighbor’s, where I found her with her arm around an older lady as she talked to her. The older lady’s door was open, and the smoke was wafting from it. I could also see the sprinklers going off inside the apartment. That was going to be a fucking mess to clean up.

“It’s okay, Mrs. Jo. Everything is fine. It was just a little oven fire. It’s taken care of, and all your things will dry. Now, take a deep breath and relax. You’re safe,” Brielle said to the older lady, who was clearly rattled but taking a deep breath, just like Brielle had told her to do.

“I forgot to set the timer. I never forget that. I always remember when I got a pie in the oven,” the lady said in a shaky voice as she looked at Brielle.

“Everyone forgets things sometimes. I forgot to put the milk back in the fridge yesterday, and it sat out all night. This morning, it was completely ruined. It happens. But you’re okay,” Brielle told her. “Do you want me to call Andrew?”

The older lady nodded.

“Let’s walk over to my apartment then and get you seated on the sofa while I call him,” she said just as the sprinklers inside the apartment shut off.

Brielle turned back to look at the door when she saw me standing there.

“Fire department and the building manager are on their way,” I told her.

She nodded, then sighed heavily. “It was an accident,” she told me in a tone that made it clear she would go into battle for the older lady if she needed to.

“Is everyone okay?” I asked her.

She nodded again. “Mrs. Jo is just shaken. She was on her balcony, watering the plants, when it went off. It’s upset her.”

I glanced at the woman, who was looking at me curiously. Taking a step in their direction, I held out my hand toward her. “I’m Dean Finlay. I own the building. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Jo,” I said to her.

She did a quick scan of my entire body, as if sizing me up. Then, she put her small hand in mine. “You have an awful lot of tattoos,” she said to me.

I smirked and nodded. “Yes, ma’am, I do.”

She shook her head, as if disappointed, then let go of my hand. “It’s a shame a man as good-looking as yourself would do that to his body. That could have been a nice chest you’re showing off, but you’ve gone and colored it all up.” Her gaze dropped back to it, and then she gasped. “Good Lord have mercy,” she said, then pointed a crooked finger toward my nipple piercing.

I pulled my unbuttoned shirt together just as I heard a small laugh. I shifted my gaze to Brielle, and she was smiling. Damn, she had a great smile. Even if she was currently smiling because she was laughing at me. I didn’t fucking care. I liked looking at it.

I returned her amused smile, and I could see the flicker of unease in her gaze as I did so. She wanted to hate me … and I liked it. How screwed up was that?

“Come on, Mrs. Jo,” she said. “Let’s go call Andrew.” Then, she looked at me. “Andrew is her son. He can take her to his place until this is ready for her to come back.”

I was glad she had somewhere to go until we could get her apartment cleaned up. The fire wasn’t my fault, nor was it my responsibility to replace what had been damaged, but I could, and I wanted to.

“Can I do anything to help?” I asked Brielle simply because I didn’t want our conversation to end.

She nodded toward Mrs. Jo’s apartment. “Get her apartment livable as soon as you can. She doesn’t like staying with Andrew.”

I was about to suggest Mrs. Jo stay with Brielle when she opened her apartment door, and I heard her gasp loudly. I began moving in her direction.

“Oh, honey, I am so sorry. This is all my fault,” Mrs. Jo exclaimed, sounding more upset than before.

When I came up behind them, I took in the wet apartment. There was water pooling on the floor in several areas. But it wasn’t as bad as Mrs. Jo’s. This would be easier to clean up and dry out.

“I’d better call Damar and Jim. Their apartment could be wet, too, and they won’t know until late tonight when they get home,” Brielle said, then patted Mrs. Jo’s arm. “This is okay. I’ll get my things dried up in no time. Don’t you fret. We are all safe. That’s what matters. This”—she waved her hand toward her apartment—“is just stuff.”

“I take it, that is Damar and Jim’s apartment,” I said.

Brielle turned to look back at me. She wasn’t smiling anymore. She just nodded. “If my phone didn’t get wet, then I should be able to call them and let them know that they need to come check it out.”

I reached for my cell phone to text Maegan. She had a master set of keys and could check it for them. “I’ll have my manager check on it. No need to worry them if it’s not necessary,” I told her. Then, I lifted my gaze to hers. “iPhones are water-resistant now,” I added to ease some of her worry.

“Yes, I’m sure they are, but mine is not. It’s not a new version,” she said with a touch of amusement in her voice.

“They’ve been water-resistant for several years,” I assured her.

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