by Fable Gray
I forced my gaze to stay locked on his even though it wanted to wander. Despite my love for the casual, there was little more alluring than a powerful man in a custom suit. The lines of it, the mystery of what was underneath.
I couldn’t ignore that. It was clear Declan was built, clear that he took care of himself and his appearance. Clear that there was strength under that jacket, the expensive tie, and crisp white dress shirt. Muscles that would bunch and flex if I smoothed my hands over them…
God, I was out of control. Who thought about the man who was interviewing them like that?
Oh yeah, a woman who wasn’t really here for an interview.
You aren’t here to get a date either, I reminded myself.
Reconnaissance, that’s what it was. Pure and simple.
“It’s a beautiful view,” I told him, wishing he’d sit. It was intimidating having him stand next to me.
“A reminder that life isn’t all about what’s in here,” he said, surprising me.
I thought he lived for work. There were a rare few people that could balance the beauty of the world with the discipline of work. My father was one of them.
And he would be again once he woke up. I had to keep telling myself that.
With the reminder of my father in my head, it was easier to focus.
“I appreciate this opportunity,” I told Declan, getting down to business, “but I’m not sure if I’m qualified for this position.”
He walked to the seat across from me, movements as smooth and graceful as a tiger, and sat. He set his elbow on the arm of the chair and lifted one hand and to run his finger on his newly shaved cheek.
“You don’t even know what the job is yet,” he said.
I was a biology major, a semester away from graduating, with minimal experience working at a diner near the house I used to live at with my father. So, unless he was going to give me a job doing grunt work down at the laboratory, I didn’t know what I could do for him.
But he wasn’t supposed to know any of that. Xander had created a fake job for me where he worked, that way if they called the “supervisor” at my fake old job, he could answer. He made me an Instagram full of hiking and nature photos just in case anyone bothered to check it and I needed to convincingly talk about my social media.
He also put me up on a job-hunting site online, which he’d texted me on the cab ride here that had already gotten interest and listed my education as the state college instead of the university.
He’d also put me at twenty-four. Only a few years older and easy enough to fake, but I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.
In fact, part of me was hoping Declan would just dismiss me and get back to his day so I could get back to my cyber stalking.
“What’s the job?” I asked instead of telling him what I was—or wasn’t—qualified for.
I swore I saw a flicker of surprise on his face before he went stone serious again.
“An internship. A paid one,” he said before I could interject that I wasn’t looking for busy work.
Real me actually would have loved an internship at the lab (you know, if I didn’t suspect my potential boss of doing something nefarious) but fake me needed the money.
Fake me didn’t have a genius gay roommate that had turned one of my small investments into hundreds of thousands of dollars that was currently sitting in several separate high-yielding accounts that afforded me not only a cozy apartment and money for school but also a healthy amount of Chinese food.
“We normally pick one student from the university each semester and one each summer to learn the ins and outs of the company and get some experience.”
I sat up straighter when he mentioned the university, hoping he had no clue I was a student there. No way. He couldn’t know. As of this morning, he only knew my first name. My fake first name.
“What happened to your summer student?” I asked.
“She had an emergency back home and had to back out.”
My gaze strayed to the window, drawn by the beautiful mountains, by the amazing hiking I was supposed to be doing this summer.
Working in an office all day wasn’t anywhere on my schedule.
“Many of our students are interested in the kinds of research Dark Laboratories does,” Declan said.
My gaze snapped back to his. I was interested. For more reasons than one.
“This type of internship can open up doors in that arena as well,” he said.
Fuck. I was fully prepared to tell him I’d think about the position and then ditch his ass.
But this? It might be a direct line to the secrets about my father. He’d discovered something that had gotten him in trouble.
And, selfishly, I was more than curious what they were doing down there. My dad had worked on some amazing projects, and I couldn’t lie, that intrigued me.
Declan leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees, and making his fingers into a temple under his chin. “Listen, it’s business. You need a job and I need to fill this slot for the internship. It’s a whole program Dark Enterprises does and…” He shrugged, the most human gesture I’d seen him make so far. “It makes sense. I’d rather hire someone who I know has a good head on her shoulders than pick from a pool of people I don’t have the time to interview at the last minute.”
A good head on her shoulders. Well, that sounded like Declan Dark had just complimented me. It also sounded like he thought of me like a little kid, which irritated me.
Maybe I should have worn the hooker heels.
Samantha, I chided. You’re not here to turn on your boss.
My boss. Well, that sounded like I’d already made the decision.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Do you always interview the potential interns?”
He straightened. “No.”
Fuck, yeah. I’d caught him off guard.
“Then why are you interviewing me?”
Declan’s gaze locked on mine, strong as steel and dark as night. His eyes were navy, so deep they were almost black.
“Because I want you for the job,” he said simply.
Chapter 5
New cell phone. Or cell phone number?
More fancy-pants Samantha Thompson work clothes, I typed into my phone.
What else? I stared at the mountains outside the window in the backseat of the Uber I took to the hospital.
I still couldn’t believe I’d given up my summer to work for Dark Enterprises.
But damn, when Declan had looked at me the way he had, it was hard to say no. Especially when the words, “I want you” came out of his mouth. Sure, they were followed up with “for this job” but it did a great job convincing me.
Xander had agreed that it was a good move to say yes. But I almost wondered if it was because he also had a secret crush on the drool-worthy billionaire.
That traitor.
I abandoned the list on my phone when the hospital came into view and blew out a breath.
If Xander was a traitor, so was I. I’d checked out Declan more than once, and that whole butler scenario in my head was really just so I could imagine him in his powerful suit surrounded by the billions that drove him.
Starting Monday, I had a new job at his office, but I doubted I’d see him. Whoever those other people were who were supposed to be interviewing potential interns would probably show up and make me work on spreadsheets.
“It’s probably better that way,” I told myself.
“Excuse me?” the driver asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing. You can let me out right here.”
I pulled a few bills from my purse and passed them over, hoping the generous tip would earn me a favor.
“Do you think you could come back in an hour?” I asked. “I need a ride back home.”
He eyed the bills, then nodded. “No problem. One hour. Right here, okay?”
“Perfect.”
I got out and breathed in the moist air. The drizzle hadn’t stopped all day, making me long
for the mountains, nature, anywhere but inside a stuffy office.
I’d tried more than once to convince Xander that we needed to invest in a cabin closer to the mountains, in a pile of trees, but he insisted he needed to be near the city.
The city he barely engaged with, I always reminded him. But I understood why he wanted that proximity. Just as looking at the mountains fueled me, kept me sane, the city did the same for him.
I supposed it made him feel less alone when he was cooped up in the apartment choosing not to be a part of that world.
I could understand that introverted behavior—I just wanted a better view while doing it.
I followed the same path into the same hospital I visited several days a week—more if I could manage it—and to the third floor, where my father was.
The nurses always smiled at me and told me Dr. Patterson was looking good today, and I always appreciated their intentions.
But every time I saw my dad, he looked the same.
Pale, frail, and only a shadow of the man I knew he was. My father was a ground-breaking scientist and a wonderful person. He’d been a great husband when my mother was alive and the best single parent he could have been to me. It was hard not to be able to see that anymore.
“Hi, Dad,” I said softly, a catch in my voice that surprised me.
When would he finally wake up and be able to return my greeting? When would he be able to tell me the truth about what had happened that day of the accident?
I pulled over the chair from the corner and settled it next to his bed, close enough I could reach out and take his hand.
No response.
I spoke to him regardless. “So, I got a job today. At Dark Enterprises. Crazy, right? I bet you never thought I’d follow in your footsteps this quickly.”
Because I wanted him to hear my voice, I kept talking, telling him all about my hooker heels and my plan to figure out all the secrets of Dark Enterprises.
I told him about the cameras and the internship and asked him for the millionth time what he’d found out that had been so important.
Xander had hacked his email and found a series of messages between him and Declan—a man I’d barely heard of before the accident.
I compared those samples you provided. They seem to be the same. But there are some abnormalities. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.
Dozens of messages back and forth that I couldn’t quite figure out. And then, on the day of the accident, one final email. I’ve found something else. I need to speak with you.
We checked the GPS on my father’s car and saw the address he’d been headed to that same day. With Xander’s help, it wasn’t hard to figure out the location.
A second home with Dark on the title.
My father had gone to meet Declan Dark.
And he’d never made it home.
If my father had been involved in something serious, he would have told me. Unless someone had told him not to.
Or he was worried it would endanger me.
That meant what I was doing here—and at Dark Enterprises—was dangerous. My father would be angry at me for getting involved. But what was I supposed to do?
I’d already spoken with the police, who’d informed me the accident was just that—an accident. They’d even told me they talked to Declan and he’d said he’d never seen my father that day. That he barely even knew the man.
The emails they’d sent each other were conveniently erased after that.
Xander said he could probably find them with some work, but that still didn’t prove anything. I’d need more if I was going to show the police that Declan was involved.
They weren’t the only ones who needed more. Even Xander wasn’t convinced about Declan’s involvement in the accident.
I boldly told him I was certain Declan had something to do with all this, but secretly, I had no clue.
I needed more information.
“Anyway, I might go by your house and raid the basement to see if I can find any of mom’s old snazzy work clothes,” I told my dad to lighten the mood. “She had good style, right?”
I watched the lights on his monitor for several long minutes, minutes where my vision blurred with tears. I’d already lost one parent—I couldn’t lose another.
“I’ll be right back,” I told my father, squeezing his hand.
I took my purse with me to the bathroom, where I washed my hands and composed myself. I splashed water on my face and stared at the woman I was forcing to become Samantha Thompson, a far cry from Royal Patterson, the curious biology student who was not cut out for an office.
I dabbed a paper towel on my face and then opened the bathroom door.
My shoes skidded to a stop on the tile when I heard a familiar deep voice.
Declan!
“Any change?” he asked a nurse at the station I’d just walked by only minutes ago.
I whipped around and pushed back through the bathroom door, my heart banging hard in my chest. Oh, God, he hadn’t seen me, had he?
And what the hell was Declan Dark doing here? In the hospital my father was at?
On the same floor?
There was no way he was here to see my dad, no way. I mean, he’d told the police he barely even knew the man. And it wasn’t like they worked together—well, at least not directly together.
I put my ear to the door to see if I could hear anything. Just beeps from monitors and the low murmur of voices.
Shit.
I pressed my shaking hands flat on the door and pushed it open slightly. Just an inch to see what was going on.
Declan was still at the nurse’s station, decked out in his I’m-too-sexy-for-this-shirt business attire that fit him like a glove.
He nodded at something the nurse said and then turned.
I gasped and pulled back. After a moment, I opened the door again and got a brief glimpse of his back as he entered my father’s room.
My father’s room!
Dammit, he was here for my dad. Another intense flash of panic hit me. What if he was here to hurt my dad?
Then I breathed through the likelihood of that and decided against it. My dad had already been here eight weeks. If Declan wanted to do something, he would have already.
Or sent someone else. Didn’t guys like that have half the city in their pockets? He could probably do anything he wanted and figure out how to get away with it.
And then it dawned on me. I might be the only one who could stop him.
Stop him from what? Xander would be asking right now.
“I don’t need a fucking voice of reason in my head,” I mumbled to myself, realizing I had to look pretty crazy right now.
Probably better get out of here before I got caught.
I inched open the door and then booked it down the hallway when I saw it was clear. The hallway was still empty when I got in the elevator. I took it straight to the main floor.
Outside, the rain attacked me. I cursed when I realized it had only been forty minutes. My driver wouldn’t be back yet. But through the mist, I spotted a familiar car at the place I was supposed to meet him.
I waved and rushed to the car, already planning on an extra-large tip. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a black car on the other side of the parking lot.
And a familiar man getting in the back.
Declan.
My mouth dropped open. How had he gotten out there so fast? His car was twice as far as mine was from any entrance or exit to the hospital and I’d pretty much run the whole way.
Had he seen me and run after me?
The Uber driver rolled down the window. “Hey.”
I blinked and looked at him. “Hey,” I said weakly.
“You still need a ride?” he asked.
I swallowed. “Yes.”
I got in, my mind still whirling with questions—so many questions about Declan Dark.
The more I saw him, the more of a mystery he became to me. The more I swore he had secrets h
e didn’t want the rest of the world to know.
“I’ll toss in an extra ten bucks if you can get me home in thirty minutes,” I told the Uber driver.
He glanced over his shoulder with a grin. “Challenge accepted.”
Chapter 6
Xander had moved his computer setup to the kitchen table while I cooked spaghetti for dinner.
“Why are you Martha Stewart all of the sudden?” he asked, lifting his gaze to look at me over his computer screen.
I continued to chop onions for the sauce. “What? Martha Stewart?”
“Since when are you culinarily inclined? Or is this part of the new Samantha Thompson persona?”
I angled my head. “Good. That’s good. I need to think up a few things to make myself seem more like…a human.”
“As opposed to a robot?” Xander asked.
I pressed the button on the speaker to turn up the music he had playing in the background. “Yes. That’s exactly what Samantha is right now,” I told him, moving to the music. “She’s a robot. She’s a creation. We need her to be real.”
“Okay. Well, we know she loves nature. All her Instagram posts are of the outdoors.”
“You didn’t get those from my actual Instagram, right? I mean—”
“Seriously, Ro?” Xander drank the rest of the wine in his glass, looking offended. “You think I’d pull some amateur shit like that? If I recall correctly, I’m the tech genius, not you. I know your pics can be traced back to your real account and if I didn’t, I’d be an idiot, still living in my mother’s basement and pretending I wasn’t gay because I was afraid of incurring the wrath of God.”
I snorted and walked around the table to fill his wine glass. “I apologize. You’re a genius and I love you without the wrath of God on you.” I put my arm around him and looked at the computer screen. “What are you doing now?”
“Making sure your calls are being forwarded to your Samantha Thompson phone number.”
“What’s that?” I asked.
“The number I had to input in order to set up your interview—your first interview—at Dark Enterprises. Made it look more legit.” He lifted my phone. “And now, those calls are going to be forward to your real cell phone so you don’t have to carry around two phones like a weirdo.”