Page 2 of Declan
I narrow my eyes. "You already knew about the contamination."
I see his surprise in the widening of his eyes and the way his body stiffens. "How the fuck do you do that?" He cracks his neck. "Yeah, I already knew. I had a team in there testing a few weeks ago. I already have a quote on the cleanup."
"Let me guess, it's a lot less than a million?"
"Yep,” he says with a wink, turning to his office across the hall.
"I still expect a reward for noticing the clause and dealing with his smarmy ass!" I shout. It's not the first time I've told him to reward me. The first time I saved him a hundred grand, I asked for a raise. He fought me on it, but he smiled the whole time.
I wasn't always a go-getter, but I changed pretty damn fast a decade ago. I had to. So the first time I asked a boss for a raise, I worried about it for a month first. I got it. It got easier and easier. Now, I'm indispensable, and I know it.
He spins, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning in his doorway, smirking my way. "Really? You deserve a reward for doing your job?"
"Damn straight, I do. Call it a commission on the money you saved on the deal."
"And what will this reward entail?"
"I get the jet for a weekend. Bree and I want to go somewhere sunny and work on our tans. Maybe Miami." I can picture it now, the heat on my skin, a cold slushy drink in my hand. The only thing that would make it better would be a certain geeky cabana boy at my beck and call.
"You're a pain in my ass, you know that? You are aware there were other applicants for your job. Professional, composed, well-spoken applicants."
I raise my hand, not trying that hard to hide my yawn. I didn't get enough sleep last night, but that's pretty much my norm. "Yeah, you'd scare them off within the first week. No one else could handle your annoying ass."
His warm chuckles roll down the hall across the mostly empty offices. "You're probably right. You don't scare easily. That makes you pretty damn invaluable."
"I know," I say, no trace of conceit in my tone. It's a fact. I am invaluable to him. With me around, shit gets done. I handle the shit, so he has time to focus on the big picture. It works really fucking well.
"Take the jet. Have fun. Use my card to book a suite on the beach." He wanders into his office, his mind already on his next move. The man's brain never seems to shut off.
The dollar value of this trip is less than my last raise, but I'm overly excited about this one. The cold is rolling into Chicago, and I can't wait for some sun and sand.
With a small squeak of excitement, I pull out my phone and text Bree.
We're going to Miami! Girls only, no Tyler. Look at your schedule and let me know when you can go.
I don't bother waiting for a reply. She's constantly running late with her physiotherapy clients and doesn't carry her phone on her. I can't wait for some boyfriend-free time with her. Her boyfriend's a douche, and I've had to bite my tongue more than once around them. I do not get what she sees in him, but it's her life, and it's none of my fucking business.
I hang around my office a little while longer, hoping that I'll see him, but eventually, I just feel ridiculous. Pushing my feet back into my way too high, way too sexy, way too expensive stilettos, I grab my bag and my jacket and head down the hall, eyes peeled. My usually stellar self-esteem takes a hit as I creep toward his office, but I need my fix.
Declan is like no man I've ever been around before. Men, don't ignore me. Ever. I always attract attention wherever I go. I have the hips and the boobs that bring all the men to the yard, most of them desperate to get their hands on me. But not Declan. No, he seems to be the opposite. Completely uninterested in me. Well, not completely, but completely unwilling to do anything about it.
I know men, and I know for a fact that he is very happy to see me most of the time, despite how hard he might try to hide it. But I can't figure out why he won't act on it. I've thrown myself at him at every opportunity over the last few years, and he can't get away from me fast enough.
At first, it was funny. It became a bit of a game, seeing how far I could push him before he bolted. Now, it's not funny anymore. I feel more and more pathetic every time I see him, but I'm powerless to stop.
The routine is predictable. Every day after work, the brothers gather in Ransom's office for drinks and to decompress. If Declan's not here yet, that means he's still in his office playing with his computers. When it comes to tech, I get by, but I really don't understand what it is that Declan does most of his day. All I know is that he's got way too many monitors and seems way too excited anytime a new gadget shows up.
I slowly make my way down the hall, passing the other brothers' executive offices, stopping just before the doorway of Declan's. My heart is racing, anticipating seeing him. My palms are sweaty, which annoys the fuck out of me. I'm supposed to be calm, cool Cara, but around him, I revert to a nervous sixteen-year-old. Which is stupid since, at sixteen, there were no nerves to be found. I had confidence for days.
I take a chance and peek my head around the edge of the doorway, and there he is. It's still weird seeing him now. From the back, he looks mostly the same with his hood pulled up over his head, but the width of his shoulders is new. When I first met him, he definitely wasn't scrawny, but he was never built like this, muscle on muscle. Somehow in the last few months, he seems to have matured, and his whole body has changed. I can't decide if I like it. I mean, yeah, he's gorgeous. But I really liked the old Declan too. The new one is taking some getting used to. Of course, if I got him naked, I wouldn’t kick him out of bed.
I stand there, unashamed to be creeping on him, watching him work. His fingers flying over the keyboard. The little triumphant hum he makes when he's hacked some government or whatever the hell he does on that computer all day makes the back of my knees tingle. It makes me wonder what sounds he might make when he's exploring my body.
He's so cute. Why won't he love me?
I mean, I'm completely lovable and banging. He's the only one who doesn't seem to realize that. The way he stutters and panics when I talk to him sometimes makes me wonder if he's a virgin, but that seems a little outlandish. Besides, I've seen him with women in the past. Well, a woman. I’m not proud of how long I followed them, how I ducked into doorways downtown as they walked down the street. But it hurt. It made me feel like I was the problem, which I guess I am.
I know I should move on. But I can't.
