Page 5 of Stolen Sun
Claire turns to me and smiles before walking back toward the lobby.
I open the door and step inside to find Declan typing on his laptop. He stops when I'm a few steps in and walks around his dark mahogany desk to lean against the front of it. It’s a massive piece of furniture in an office three times larger than mine. His hands grip the edge on either side of his narrow narrow hips while he silently watches me approach.
“Good morning, Mr. Adams,” I say with more confidence than I feel—sure to add the formality in reference to the greeting I received from his receptionist.
“Hm,” he scoffs.
“Your receptionist insisted that you like to keep things formal.” I stop a few steps away from him, tilting my head to the side.
“Do you always greet your clients with sass, Noel?”
Oh, shit.“My apologies. Good morning, Declan,” I correct.
A devious smile graces his otherwise serious face. “Good morning. Are you ready to go?”
“Go?” I ask in surprise.
The details of the meeting specified this office. I don’t ever go places with my clients. The entire point of an office visit is to observe and feel the climate.
He sucks in his bottom lip, gives me a once-over, then answers, “Yes ma’am. I tend to conduct meetings much better after I’ve eaten.”
Blood rushes to my cheeks, and I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “We can reschedule if today no longer works for you, or I could meet with Claire until you’re free.”
“Breakfast pertains to the details of our business,” he says, meeting my eyes again.
When I don’t respond, he reaches behind his back to grab a set of keys off his desk. He takes a step toward me. Even in heels, he towers over me.
“I’ll drive,” he says, then motions toward the door with his hand.
Resolving to see this through, I turn around to the door. We walk back down the hall and through the lobby.
“Claire, handle all calls until I’m back in the office," he addresses the receptionist as he opens the exterior door for me to exit before him.
“Yes, sir,” Claire calls out as we step into the heat of the morning.
Once we get on the highway, I steal a glance at Declan. He drives with his left hand and leans into the middle of the truck on his propped up right elbow. He's completely unaffected as though tricking me into going somewhere with him is a usual occurrence. Meanwhile, I'm a bundle of nerves.
He’s wearing a black shirt that fits him just as snug as the one he wore in my office a few days ago with dark jeans. His hair is messy but in that on-purpose way. The tip of his tongue rests between his teeth as though he's deep in thought. The sight sends intrusive thoughts to the forefront of my mind, and I have to quickly look out the window to push them away.
“Everything alright over there?” He asks.
I turn to look at him again. He’s side-eyeing me with a dimpled grin. My chest tightens, and butterflies swarm in my stomach.How many hearts have you broken since mine, I wonder?
“All good,” I reply. “How long have you been inbusiness?”
“I started Velocity just after graduation,” he answers.
“Oh? Where’d you end up going to school?” I ask, trying to learn what I can about him while he’s in the mood to share.
“Not college.High schoolgraduation,” he clarifies.
What?“Declan, you were valedictorian,” I practically yell at him in shock.
He chuckles at my reaction. “Funny. You wouldn’t look at me through my entire speech, but you remember I gave one.”
My jaw drops, and I close it shortly after he glances at me again. Words scramble in my head. The thought of him looking my way during his big moment confuses the hell out of me. The comment makes it sound as though I mattered to some degree, which he made extremely clear was not the case.
Unspent anger gets the better of me. “Funny. You pretended I didn’t exist, but you noticed me during a moment that significant,” I bite back. He may have the upper hand here, but I’m not going down that easy.
