Chapter 4 - Ghosts of the Past
The air inside the garage grew cold and taut.
Damon stepped forward calmly, placing himself between the two women. "Monica. You're early. Nia’s still packing her school bag inside."
Monica didn't move. She walked into the garage, her heels clicking sharply against the concrete floor, her eyes sweeping over Erica with a cold, protective scrutiny.
"Ms. Rowan," Monica said, her voice dropping into an icy register. "I know who you are. My ex-husband spent four months struggling to pay our daughter's private school tuition because of your company."
Erica didn't hide behind Damon. She stepped forward, standing tall, meeting Monica’s gaze with absolute honesty.
"You have every right to be angry with me, Mrs. Ward," Erica said quietly, her voice full of sincere remorse. "I made a terrible mistake five months ago. A mistake I am currently working to fix."
"Fixing it doesn't pay for five months of stress, Ms. Rowan," Monica countered, turning her focus back to Damon. "Damon, we need to talk about Nia’s schedule. If you're getting involved in some corporate vendetta with your old company, I am taking Nia to my house full-time."
Damon’s jaw tightened, a dangerous shadow falling over his face. "Monica, don't use Nia to threaten me."
"I am not threatening you, Damon!" Monica snapped, her voice breaking slightly with genuine maternal anxiety. "I am trying to protect our daughter! You've been working sixty hours a week at an independent shop, coming home exhausted, and now you're hiding the CEO of Redwood in your garage at seven in the morning!"
"She isn't hiding," Damon said firmly. "She’s here because we’re going to expose the men who actually ruined our service department."
Erica stepped between them, her voice calm, powerful, and commanding—the voice of a leader who knew how to de-escalate crisis situations.
"Mrs. Ward, please listen to me," Erica begged gently. "Your ex-husband is the most honorable man I have ever met in my entire career. He didn't lose his job because he failed. He lost his job because he refused to let a corrupt board member put dangerous, defective cars on the road—cars that families like yours drive every single day."
Monica blinked, caught off guard by the total lack of arrogance in Erica’s voice.
"Damon risked everything to keep people safe," Erica continued, her dark eyes shining with conviction. "And I am going to make sure he gets his shop, his reputation, and his back pay restored tenfold before this week is over. You don't need to fear for Nia's future. You should be proud of her father."
Monica looked at Erica for a long, silent moment. She looked at Damon, seeing the fierce, unwavering resolve in his eyes, then looked back at Erica, noticing for the first time the worn grey sweater Erica was wearing—a sweater Monica had donated to Damon’s house weeks ago.
Monica let out a long breath, her defensive posture slowly softening.
"You really mean that, don't you?" Monica asked softly.
"With every fiber of my being," Erica answered without hesitation.
Monica turned to Damon, offering a quiet, subdued nod. "Nia’s ready for school. Drive her safely, Damon. We’ll talk about the schedule this weekend."
As Monica walked out toward her car, Damon looked at Erica, a look of profound, quiet awe in his eyes.
"Nobody has ever stood up to Monica like that," Damon admitted softly.
Erica smiled faintly, picking up her cold coffee cup. "I manage hostile boards for a living, Damon. An anxious mother is much easier to respect."
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Damon laughed—a warm, rich sound that made Erica’s chest tighten with a strange, sweet heat she hadn't felt in years.
"Come on," Damon said, reaching for his coat. "Let's go get your SUV out of the mud."
