"Then she'll tell you. But at least you'll know you tried." She waved her gardening shears at me. "Now go. And take her some of the lasagna from yesterday. Nothing says 'I care' like good food."
Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the parking lot behind Nadia's commercial kitchen. Her van was there, lights on inside, but the door was locked. I knocked, waited, and knocked again.
When she finally opened the door, I knew I'd been right to come.
Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face drawn. She was still in her navy jumpsuit, but it looked rumpled, like she'd been wearing it too long. And there was the way she looked at me, like she was drowning and didn't know if I was a life raft or just another wave.
"Daemon." Her voice was hoarse. "I forgot. Dinner. I'm sorry, I?—"
"Hey." I stepped inside and pulled her into my arms before she could protest. "Talk to me. What happened?"
She froze, then sagged against me, and I felt the fight go out of her.
"Elevate called," she said into my chest. "They offered to buy me out. Make me their regional manager. Salary, benefits, everything."
That should have been good news. Stability, security, everything she needed. But the way she said it...
"But?" I prompted.
She pulled back, arms wrapped around herself. "The woman who called, Samantha Morrison. She didn't name one detail of my life, and somehow she described all of it."
Her voice cracked. "That's what scared me, Daemon. It was a threat built so it could never be called one. Like she was telling me she could make things difficult if I didn't play along, without saying a single word I could repeat to anyone."
Cold fury settled in my gut. "What did you tell her?"
"That I wasn't interested. That I’d built this business and wasn’t giving it up." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "She said they'd be in touch, anyway. Like my answer didn't matter. Like it's only a matter of time before I have no choice."
I caught her hands and made her look at me. "You always have a choice."
"Do I?" she said before pulling away and pacing. "I lost Pacific Tech. Tony from Coastal Produce is probably taking an exclusive contract with Elevate. How many more clients can I afford to lose before I'm operating in the red? How long before I can't make payroll? Can't help my parents?"
She stopped and faced me. "How long before the smart business decision is to take their offer and cut my losses?"
"Is that what you want?"
"No!" The word was fierce. "I want to fight. I want to tell them to go to hell. I want..." she trailed off, looking lost. "I don't know how to fight a corporation, Daemon. I don't have their resources. Their lawyers. Their deep pockets."
"But you have me." I closed the distance between us. "And you have your team. And you have this whole town once they figure out what's happening."
"That's not enough against?—"
"It's a start." I pulled out my phone. "I'm calling Malakai. This isn't just aggressive business practices anymore. If they're researching your family and using personal information to pressure you, there could be legal issues."
"Daemon, it's almost six?—"
"Mal won't care." I was already dialing. "Trust me."
He answered on the second ring. "What's up?"
I explained everything. The buyout offer, the personal information, the veiled threats. Malakai listened without interrupting, and I could practically hear him taking notes.
"That's potentially actionable," he said when I finished. "Depending on how we frame it. But more importantly, it's stupid. They're leaving a paper trail."
"Can you look into them?" I asked. "Find out if they've done this before?"
"Already started when you mentioned them earlier. Give me until tomorrow morning. I'll call Chase and Cole. Between the three of us, we should find something." He tipped his head to the side and clicked his neck before continuing. "How's Nadia holding up?"
I looked across the kitchen at her. She was watching me with an expression that was equal parts hope and fear.
