by Kim Linwood
“No?”
“No. I’m not in love with Declan if that’s what you’re getting at.” I like quirky Carl. I’m not sure I like strangely perceptive Carl. “Is there some sort of weird chemistry or voodoo or,” I wave my hands around helplessly, “Allergic reaction between us? Yeah, I guess. But it’s definitely not love.”
He smirks, like I just confirmed whatever he was thinking. “I never said Declan. You two are obviously complete opposites.”
“Obviously, and for the record, opposites only attract in movies and books.”
“Mmmhmm,” he hums, not buying a word of it.
“It’s true! In reality it’s just a recipe for disaster. Oil and water. Donuts and... kale juice.”
“Look, kiddo. I’m not your father, so take what I’m saying with a grain of salt, okay? I know I’m the crazy office uncle.” He shakes his head and smiles when I try to deny it. “It’s fine, it’s who I am, but what you have to understand, is that I’ve been here since Mr. Riordan’s wife died. I saw the way it shut off something in both him and his son. Garrett had the benefit of age, and of having experienced love before, so when your mother came along, he was finally healed enough to want to find that again. Declan... he never has.”
“And that gives him some sort of free ticket to be a total asshole? Poor little Declan.” As someone who has experienced a lot of grief in her life, it pisses me off when people are given free passes to be dicks just because they got hurt.
Carl snorts a laugh. “No, but what I’m getting at is that I see in you some of that same thing that’s broken in Declan. You don’t have to tell me what it is, but I like you, kid, and I want to see you happy. If you ask me, Declan isn’t ready to make anybody happy. Not even himself. You on the other hand, think about it.”
“I’m docking you a donut for this.”
“I can live with that.”
My relationship with Carl isn’t at all like a parent to a child. We’ve been partners in crime. Strangers stranded together in a strange land full of suits and ties. But right now, this is the closest thing to a father daughter chat I’ve had in years, and I’m not ready to be done.
“Carl?”
“Yup yup, buttercup?”
I roll my eyes and pretend my chest isn’t tight. “Can I buy you dinner? If you’ve got somewhere to be I’ll understand, but I just wanted to—”
“I’ll admit to having a hankering for something other than pizza.” He looks around the room. “So long as you’ll buy me rainbow sherbet for dessert. I’m in the mood for something colorful. I have no idea why.”
I snicker. “No idea at all.”
Declan
The box of donuts in my hands feels like it weighs a hundred pounds. I spent the whole weekend trying to figure out how I should apologize to Claire for Friday, and I’m no closer now than I was when I watched her walk out of the cafeteria humiliated.
Now I’m late because of these stupid donuts, and on the slowest elevator in existence. I won’t have time to try to talk to her before our meeting with Cooper. Shit. I look up. If this was a movie, I’d punch open the hatch, climb up the shaft and win back the girl, somehow managing to get rid of Cooper for good at the same time. Something would probably explode.
My life needs better writers.
Guess I wait.
The costume thing was never supposed to go that far. She wasn’t supposed to look that excited, and then so hurt. I figured Carl would get an eyeful, maybe a few others before she figured out something was up. I was going to catch her at the door, tease her and then she’d get pissed at me like usual. It was going to be funny.
More importantly, it would put more space between us, so that fuckhead Michael doesn’t come down on her just because his shit-for-brains can't tell the difference between a relationship and... well, whatever the fuck we have.
Well, it got some laughs, but not from me, and not from Dad.
I’ll clear it all up after the meeting.
The elevator dings and the door opens. Carl looks up from his desk and gives me a glare. I’m not surprised. He seems to have taken Claire under his wing. I hurry back to my office. Claire and Cooper are waiting with some flunky Cooper must have brought with him. I guess he wants backup after last time.
As always, Claire takes my breath away. She keeps wearing these conservative business suits, but if you know what to look for, they don’t hide a thing. My fingers have traced every inch of that body, and she could be wearing a muumuu over a snow suit. I’d still be aching to tear it off her.
The last thing I look at is her face. Not because I don’t want to, but after Friday, she’s going to be fucking furious. She might just incinerate me where I stand. So no one’s more surprised than me when she’s wearing a little smile. I know something you don’t, is what it says, and it’s more terrifying than any withering stare. I can’t worry about it right now, but something tells me that I’m going to get it later.
At least Claire and Cooper haven’t set anything on fire or killed each other yet. I drop the donuts on her desk and crank the charm to eleven. It’s show time.
“Harry, good to see you. I’m so sorry about my delay. A trailer spilled on the highway, backing traffic up for miles. And here I thought I’d taken extra good time.” I put my hand out, dreading his clammy, limp dick handshake.
Cooper grins and waves a hand. “No worries. I just got here too.” He slides a finger through the tape holding the donut box closed, and fingers through the selection, grabbing a chocolate glazed. “I got your email last week, so I’m expecting some progress. Are we going to win this thing?”
His presumption pisses me off, but it’s a bit of a wakeup call too. Is that what I’m like?
Watching him drop crumbs all over the floor, I wince. Every time I meet this guy I have a harder time shaking off the feeling that Claire’s right, much as I hate to fucking admit it. This guy’s a dirt bag.
And she doesn’t even know the worst of it. I hid the medical reports from her, because she’ll go off the hook if she sees them. Especially with the way her dad went. Cooper’s insane if he thinks anyone can get any sort of win out of this, but I’ll do my job and at least make sure his settlement is a shit-ton better than he deserves.
Right before I take a few days off to scrub the feeling of slime off my skin. With a little luck, maybe Claire will hold the sponge.
Years of experience keep my smile in place so my personal feelings don’t show. “We’ll do our best, but it’s going to be an uphill battle.”
His face goes tight and the grin fades, but he nods. It pays to stay on good terms with the guy whose job it is to keep your balls out of the fire. “Of course. All of those damn leaks are out there poisoning the public against us.”
More like all of his damn leaks poisoning his workers. I let it go, opening the door and gesturing to let him and his buddy go first. “Right this way, Harry. We’ll discuss the details in my office.”
Cooper starts to move, then stops suddenly, turning back to me. “By the way, did you ever contact Lloyd? Peterson? He’s really eager to testify. I told him there’d be a promotion in it for him.”
Yeah, I don’t think so. “I did, but honestly, I’m not sure he’s the right man to have up there. He seems a little—I’m not sure how to say this right, but—unpredictable. If I’m putting a man on the witness stand, I want to be one hundred percent sure he’s going to say the right things.” I grimace. “Especially in a case as delicate as yours.”
He shrugs. “Yeah, alright. I guess you know best. Just saying.”
“Of course. Thanks.” I hold my hand out. “Anyway, right in here, and we can get comfortable.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Carl walking by and giving Claire a thumbs up. She winks and my stomach drops. Something is off, I can feel it, but there’s no time to stop and figure out what.
My trouble sense is tingling off the charts.
“What in the ever-loving...” Cooper trails off, and I kn
ow the trap has been sprung. Shit.
As soon as I enter, I groan. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
My walls are sky blue. With clouds. And a fucking rainbow. Shooting stars and a big old sun in one corner spill up onto the ceiling. A goddamn flying cat with a unicorn horn is standing on one of the clouds, smiling like it just won the lottery. My walls used to be dark red and dignified, like a lawyer’s office. Now it looks like Hello Kitty’s playroom.
It’s a monstrosity, but I can’t help but give her points for execution, because the attention to detail is devilish in its horror. All the books on my shelves have been covered in rainbow paper, and my book ends have been replaced by things with huge eyes and tiny bodies that are so ridiculously cute they must be Japanese.
“Is this a fucking joke?” Cooper’s buddy is laughing his ass off, and Cooper himself looks like he’s about to explode and save us all the rest of this farce of a case. “I’m supposed to be trusting my company to someone with an office like this?”
With every new thing I spot, my stomach drops a little further. There are action figurines on my desk, apparently playing with my pens. Even my fucking lamp shade has been replaced with one that spins slowly, throwing silhouettes on my walls of kittens chasing each other.
The only thing missing is a bed with cartoon sheets to complete the look of a little girl’s bedroom.
Claire snorts behind me. Harr harr. Real fucking funny.
I don’t know if I can control this much damage. “Mr. Cooper, I assure you—”
“You know what? Fuck your assurances. Your boss promised me the top attorneys money can buy. God knows he’s asked for a fuckton of it, and then this is what I get?” He turns and looks furiously up at me. “A violent clown with a cat fetish and a useless girl who’s too much of a bitch to even show a little leg and some cleavage?”
My hands clench. “Why don’t we take one of the meeting rooms instead? I’m sure that—”
Even Claire seems to realize this is taking off beyond what she’d expected. “Sir, please, it’s just a—”
“Don’t you even start. If you don’t have a dick, you don’t get to talk, and if you aren’t spreading your legs, then I don’t have to fucking be nice to you, so shut the hell up while the adults are talking.” He glares back at me. “And by that I mean me.”
I know I should hold it back. Violence isn’t the answer. Everything with Claire is all fucked up anyway, but I’m done. My fist connects with his face with a jolt that sends needles up my arm. It hurts like a motherfucker, but it’s oh, so worth it.
Cooper falls back into one of my chairs, staring up at me wild eyed. “You’re insane!” His useless friend rushes over.
I take a threatening step towards them, just to watch him cringe.
Almost immediately, Claire’s clutching my arm. “Declan! Don’t!”
Cooper runs his hand along his jaw while glaring at me. If looks could kill, I’d be a black spot on the floor. He speaks slowly as he gets up, “I don’t fucking believe this. I’m going to fucking sue you, and this time with an attorney who actually knows what he’s doing.”
“What the hell is going on here?” Dad’s massive frame fills the door.
After living under the threat of “one more chance” for so long, it’s almost a relief to know that this was it. I don’t see how anything less than divine intervention could save my job, and right this second, I’m not sure I even want it.
I face my father, throwing my hands out. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll see my way out.”
“Wait!” Claire’s still hanging onto my arm, and she yanks me back so hard I nearly fall over. “This is my fault.” Her voice drops into a sob. “Crap.”
Dad looks at her in disbelief. “You did...” he gestures around the room, “This?”
“Yes,” she croaks. “Don’t blame Declan. I was so mad after the mess on Friday, and I thought... I thought it would be funny. I’m sorry. I’ll go pack my stuff. If anyone should go, it’s me.”
“She didn’t make him punch me in the face,” Cooper pipes up. “I want them both fired. And my damn money back.”
Fuck, what a shitstorm.
I glance at Claire, and even in the middle of everything, a grin slowly spreads on my face. I didn’t think she had it in her. Chili-mayo donuts, sure, but a prank on this level? She must be thinking the same thing, as she slaps her hand over her mouth as a half sob, half laugh comes out. What a fucking pair we are.
“Everyone shut up!” Dad’s voice fills the room, overpowering everyone else. “No one is getting fired and no one’s getting their money back. This is ridiculous.” We all turn to stare. He’s so mad, he growls. “Claire and Declan, you two will have this room back to normal before tomorrow morning or you will be fired. Is that clear?”
We stand straight next to each other, our voices replying in unison. “Yes, sir!”
He turns to Cooper, and tips his head respectfully. “First of all, I apologize for everything. Their behavior today has been uncalled for, unprofessional and probably illegal.” He glances at me briefly. “I’m sure you would like the chance to work out a little of that anger, so I suggest you do just that. One free punch, and I promise no retaliation, physical or otherwise.”
Claire gasps.
“Unorthodox.” Cooper’s eyes light up.
“Given what I’ve seen of your business practices, Mr. Cooper, unorthodox should be quite familiar.”
For a moment, Cooper’s face goes slack, like he’s trying to figure out if he was just complimented or insulted, then he dismisses it, turning to me instead. His face twists into a vicious sneer. “I accept, but will these idiots still be working my case?”
Dad sighs and nods. “They will, since it’s too late to bring in anyone else. However, I’ll personally be overseeing their progress and making sure everything is as it should be. If you aren’t completely satisfied, they will answer to me and you will be refunded.”
Cooper looks at his friend, who shrugs, and then nods grudgingly. “Alright.” Cracking his knuckles, he glares at me. “Ready?”
I stand up straight, and look right at Cooper. It’s childish but satisfying to know that he’ll have to swing up to hit me. “Let’s get this over with.”
He wastes no time, but his punch is about as convincing as his handshake. His form is decent, but the swing is weak. When he connects with my jaw, I feel the sting, but from the way he pulls his hand back, I bet it hurt him more than me.
Whatever. I rub my chin just to placate him, and as expected, it makes the little bastard grin.
I look at Dad. “Are we done?”
Cooper scowls at me, at Claire and then back to my father. “Today was obviously a waste of my time, but I expect a full report in my inbox by tomorrow morning. If it’s not there to my satisfaction, you’ll be hearing from me. Come on, Mitchell.” And with that, he storms out of my office, followed by his lackey.
The three of us watch them leave, and as soon as they step into the elevator, Dad speaks, “If I ever have to do this again, you’re both on your asses out of here. The only reason you’re still here is because I can’t punch him myself. I’m regretting ever taking his case, but that doesn’t mean that you are free to clown around. Is. That. Clear?”
“Like crystal, Dad.”
“Yes, Sir.” Claire’s head is bowed and her hands are fidgeting. “Thank you.”
He gives us both a stern look. “I’ve always wondered what it would’ve been like to have had more children, but I never expected to find out at this age.”
Claire
“You’re sure this is ‘dignified’ enough?” I put my hair up in a ponytail before I pry up the top of the paint tin with one of my keys. “Because maybe we need to go back and look at paint samples some more. I’m not sure you used enough time on it.”
Declan’s moving furniture away from the walls, and doesn’t bother looking at me. “Shut up. It’s important. It sets the tone for the whole room.”
I sit back and watch him. Somehow, someway, we both managed to screw up so royally that our disasters seem to have negated each other. I was ready to hate him for life, but now? It’s easy and comfortable. Like we’ve come through a storm together and—for the moment at least—the skies are clear.
“Were the donuts for me?”
He’s quiet, but eventually grunts an affirmative. “Don’t read too much into it. I just... it wasn’t supposed to be like that, you know?”
“Uh.” I gesture around the room. “I got a dose of that myself today, remember? God, never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined it going down like that.”
He turns to me with a grin on his face, and the awful truth hits me right in the chest. I’m falling for this guy.
“I’ll show you going down,” he teases.
“Shut up.” I giggle softly. “Seriously though, I almost cost you your job, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t, and what I did on Friday was a dick move, so... I’m sorry too.” He coughs and turns away to start masking the edges, like admitting that wasn’t easy. “The important thing is, we’re still here. I think that deserves some sort of fucking celebration. What do you say we hit the bar when we’re done and grab a drink together?”
“Sure, I’d love—” Shit, I’ve got my ‘date’ with Michael tonight. “I would really like to, but not tonight. I’ve got something else going on.”
He cocks his head, arching a brow like he doesn’t quite believe me. Then he starts unbuttoning his shirt. “Okay.”
My mouth drops open as he starts to strip. “What the hell are you doing?” The last time stripping happened in his office, not much work got done. “We don’t have time to fool around!”
Declan’s blue eyes darken, and his grin gets predatory. “Naughty girl. You want to fool around? I just didn’t want to risk spilling paint on my clothes. They’re new. But if you’re offering...” He drops a dry roller on his desk before he tugs his shirt off. His undershirt follows, revealing his bright ink, one design at a time, as he peels it off. He flashes a cocky smirk as he tosses the white fabric aside. Then he flexes, making his tattoos dance. “Like what you see, babe?”