by Fable Gray
With a laugh, I saluted him. “Absolutely.”
“Great. Now let’s forget about work and eat.”
We sat on the couch with a movie on the television as we ate our dinner. I was able to set aside what had happened today with Dark for a few hours until it was time for bed.
Then I made sure my outfit was ready—my sexy heels and tight pin-striped suit for sure. Anything I could do to get under Dark’s skin. I set the brooch/camera with the outfit and patted it.
Tomorrow, I was going to do everything I could to figure out Declan Dark’s secret.
“Two can play at this game,” I said aloud before turning off the light and falling into a deep sleep—one that was full of Declan with naughty promises on his lips.
Chapter 10
When my Uber driver showed up the next morning, I was surprised and pleased to see it was Randy, the same man who’d driven me to the hospital.
My heels clicked on the sidewalk as I walked to the back of his car and opened the door. He whistled when he saw me.
I mean, sure, Randy was probably twice my age and I swore I saw a wedding ring on his finger, but it was still enough to make me blush.
“Do I look like a businesswoman?” I asked him as I climbed inside.
“You look like a business goddess. Queen of mergers and acquisitions—or whatever it is you do.”
I closed the door and put my purse on the seat. “To be honest, I have no clue. This is my first real day in the office.”
“Oh yeah? Who do you work for?” he asked, pulling into traffic.
“Declan Dark.”
“Shit. Is that the truth?” Randy shook his head. “Man, my son is gonna love this when I tell him. He thinks Declan Dark is Batman or something. Like Elon Musk but cooler. He’s got his hand in all sorts of ventures. Max says he’s going to invent some magic pill so we’re all superhuman or something.”
I leaned forward in the seat, my stomach fluttering with something I couldn’t quite pinpoint. I’d researched the guy, but this topic hadn’t come up.
“Where did he hear this?” I asked.
Randy shrugged. “A magazine? I don’t know. He’s—my son—has a neurological disorder and he’s always reading up on stem cells and transplants and all that. Dark’s father researched stuff like that but once Dark took over he started pushing that type of research.”
I sat back in my seat, and Randy smiled at me in the rearview mirror.
“That’s interesting,” I told him.
“It is. But there’s only so much science talk you can handle at the breakfast table, you know?”
I smiled. “I get it.”
It was the same with my dad. He’d get all excited about some discovery or project and drone on and on about it and I just wanted to go collect bugs from the backyard.
“You like coffee, Randy?” I asked, feeling a kinship with this man even though I barely knew him.
“Love it. Survive off of it. Stuff from home tastes like water, though,” he said, his voice affable, nevertheless. “My wife says once we’re rich, we’ll get the finest coffee beans from Columbia or wherever and live like kings. Till then, it’s the generic ground stuff.”
“Mind if we stop at that place on the corner?” I asked, pointing. “It’s on me.”
“No problem.”
Randy pulled over and I ran inside with both of our orders. When I came back, Randy was humming along to Taylor Swift on the radio, and I swore I couldn’t like this guy more.
When I passed him his cup and he took a sip, he closed his eyes just briefly. “If I tune out that churning noise the car sometimes makes and picture myself sitting in some Tuscan villa drinking this…it’s almost like I’m there.”
With a grin, I said, “That’s some good coffee then.”
“Not bad at all. Thanks. Royal, is it?”
I grimaced. Shit. I should remember to put Samantha on anything that has to do with work. But Randy seemed harmless. And he didn’t have anything to do with this.
He was just a nice guy who got me where I needed to go with a smile.
“Right,” I said. “But you can call me Ro.”
“Will do. Off to work then?”
“Yep.”
He pulled out to the street once more, humming again to another song I remember hearing on one of Xander’s many playlists.
“Randy?” I asked.
“Yep?”
“Do you work every morning?”
“Driving people to and from with these fancy wheels? Sure do. But only until one, then I get to my other job.”
“You have two jobs?”
He laughed. “Medical bills.”
Right. His son. God, I wondered how bad it was.
“So if I put in a standing request for you to come and take me to work every morning, is that okay? Do you do stuff like that?”
“Technically, you can’t do that through Uber, but we could probably work something out. Same time, same place?” he asked.
“Every day, Monday through Friday.”
“Not a problem. You show up, you pay, I’m here for you.”
Good. I kind of liked the idea of riding to work with the same guy every morning. Better than trying to make small talk with someone I’d rather tune out.
And I liked Randy. More, I wanted to help him. I couldn’t imagine having a sick kid and two jobs just to make ends meet.
And since I was a paid intern now, money I was technically earning because I’d be playing spy, I had extra cash. Which meant extra tips for Randy.
He dropped me off outside the building with another happy smile.
“See you later, Ro,” he said with a wave.
“See you.”
I took my coffee inside and started toward the security desk. I wondered how long it was going to take until I got used to coming in here and riding up those several dozen floors to get to Dark’s plush office. Then again, this could be the day he had me working in the basement. Or somewhere else. He couldn’t always find menial tasks for me to do.
The security guard gave me a nod before I reached the desk. “You’re clear to go on up, Miss Thompson.”
“Oh.” I smiled. “Thanks.”
I didn’t even have a permanent badge yet. But I had filled out my paper for Tim—and planned on telling him I was moving out of my place this week so I’d have a new address for him soon.
I was hoping he’d forget and leave me alone about it. Besides, I was just supposed to be working here for the summer, right? I didn’t need an address. I didn’t even need a paycheck, but I certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone that.
On the way up, I adjusted the pin on my lapel. Seconds later, I got a text from Xander.
Looks good. All other cameras up and running. Good luck uncovering all the deep, DARK, secrets.
He put a few smiley faces on it, making me roll my eyes.
Funny, I texted back. See you tonight.
The closer I got to the top floor, the more nervous I got. It was one thing to plan this all out in my head, but another thing to employ my sneaky—or maybe not so sneaky—tactics on a grown man.
Who was well-educated. Who intimidated me.
The part of me who wanted to uncover his secrets also wanted to keep my distance from him because it made it easier to focus, to plan, to execute.
The other part just wanted to leave it all alone and enjoy that casual flirting with him. Ask him about hiking and discuss this project he seemed passionate about.
We had things in common, as unlikely as that seemed, and if it were anyone else, I’d be exploring it.
I wouldn’t look away every time his eyes landed on me, making a long, slow scan of my body.
Unfortunately, Samantha and Royal were battling each other and, whether I liked it or not, I had to let Royal win.
She was the reason why I was here. And why I needed to do this for my dad.
The woman at the desk smiled at me. “Morning, Samantha.”
“Morn
ing.”
“I’m Brittany, by the way,” she said.
She was a cute blonde woman probably in her late twenties. Every time I’d come in so far, her smile was warm.
“It’s nice to officially meet you,” I told her. Then I glanced to Declan’s office doors. “I’m not sure where he wanted me today.”
She offered another smile, this one with laughter in it like she knew just how weird it was to be working with him. “You’re good to go on in. If Mr. Dark wanted you anywhere else today, he would have told you.”
Yeah. I figured that after the text last night. But I was still kind of hoping he’d assign me some boring, like delivering mail or something, so I could explore the building more or have any excuse to be far, far away from him.
“Thanks,” I said to Brittany.
I walked to the office doors and stepped inside. Just like last time, my gaze was instantly drawn to the windows and the breathtaking view.
Then I saw Tim sitting with Declan at the wide table.
Dammit. I hoped Tim wasn’t staying long. My plan to catch Declan in the act of being, well, more than human, was already embarrassing enough. I didn’t need spectators.
“Morning, Miss Thompson,” Declan said, his deep voice reaching me all the way over here like it was trying to trap me, draw me closer.
I didn’t miss the way his gaze lingered on me, the quick sweep it did of my body. Quick enough I barely saw it, but slow enough I could feel the heat on every inch it touched.
“Good morning,” I returned, walking to the table.
I was getting better in these heels. They completed the ensemble, too, so I just kept telling myself they were part of the package, just another thing to get from point A to point B. And they made my legs look a mile long, too, which didn’t hurt.
Even Xander thought I was looking pretty sexy these days, and I wasn’t exactly his type.
I pulled the paper Tim wanted me to fill out from my bag and passed it to him.
“Good.” He smiled, only scanning it briefly.
“I’m getting ready to move,” I explained in a woefully rehearsed voice, “so I can get you my new address once it’s finalized.”
Tim shrugged. “Not a huge deal. Just as long as we have a social security number for taxes.”
Yeah, that. I’d had a disturbing conversation about that with Xander last night that ended up with me realizing my “new” identity was that of a woman who had died a decade ago. I had her social security number, claiming her life as my own, all so I could take down my boss.
Creepy.
But I kept my smile in place as Tim shoved the paper in a folder and then pulled out a lanyard.
“Your official ID—keep this with you at all times,” Tim said, passing it over. “And…” He glanced at Declan. “I guess that’s it.”
That’s it? What else was there usually? Probably a desk—an official place to work. Probably a lot of other things. Instead, I was just waiting around all the time for Declan to tell me what to do.
That probably wasn’t common procedure around here.
“Will I be working with you today?” I asked Tim.
He gave me a blank look and didn’t respond.
“You’ll be working with me,” Declan said. He nodded at Tim. “That’ll be all. Just be sure to let me know when you get in those reports.”
Tim stood, gathered his items, and said, “No problem.”
Well, they seemed friendly enough.
Pretty sure I wasn’t going to be let in the cool-kids group just yet, so I kept my mouth shut.
I nervously touched the pin on my lapel. It didn’t make sense to put off what I needed to do.
I stood and moved to the end of the table. When Declan looked up, I pointed to the pitcher of water. “Would you like a glass?”
“No, thank you.”
He looked like he was about to say something else, but I purposefully knocked my hand into the pitcher and watched it tip over.
I’d done it on purpose but still stared in horror as it thunked against the table and spilled water across the entire surface.
Declan’s gaze flashed to mine, then he cursed and stood, but not before the water dribbled over the edge of the table and onto his clothes.
My mouth dropped open. “I—I’m so sorry. It was an accident.”
Declan calmly pushed the paper he’d been looking at aside. He drew in a slow breath, released it, then met my eyes briefly.
“I’ll get cleaned up and then we’ll get started.”
I gave a weak smile. “Okay.”
He strode to the bathroom area, pointing at the bar on the way. “There are towels over here.”
Once he’d vanished, I cursed again and walked to the bar for the towels.
What the fuck? He hadn’t even moved. The water had run right off the table and onto his crotch. Even I could move faster than that.
I could picture Xander sitting at home and watching the feed, laughing his ass off because I’d just dumped water all over one of the most powerful men in the city.
Instead of exposing him, I’d just made him think I was a klutz.
I wiped up the water, returned the towels to the bar, and grabbed two bottles of water to drink instead.
Okay, fine. If Declan wasn’t going to fall for the spilled water trick, I’d find something else. There were a million things to drop or trip on around here. Eventually, he’d make a mistake. Then I’d catch him and I’d have something to hold over him.
Something that would make him tell me what I wanted to know.
I glanced over my shoulder as my conscience said, You could just ask him.
I snorted. Yeah right. If he’d been the one to cause the accident my father was in to keep his secret, he wasn’t likely to tell me anything I needed to know.
When I glanced back again, Declan was right behind me.
I gasped and jerked around, slapping a hand to my chest and nearly dislodging the pin. “God, you scared me.”
And I hadn’t even got it on camera. My eyes narrowed, and I swore I saw him smile just slightly. He’d changed into an outfit almost exactly like what he’d been wearing before, making me wonder how many spares he had in the bathroom back there.
“My apologies,” Declan said. “Ready to work?”
“Always,” I mumbled, and sat with him at the table once again, resolved to find a new way to catch him in the act.
Chapter 11
If I had to grade Samantha on her performance today, I’d give her a solid C+. I mean, she was putting in the effort, but she just wasn’t closing the deal.
I made sure to face Declan as much as I could to catch every single movement. But dammit, he just wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary.
The only thing I was succeeding in doing was making it clear what a fine specimen of a man he was.
He moved like a predator, precise and almost practiced but natural enough, graceful enough, it seemed normal.
Every inch of his body was chiseled. That was easy enough to see even with him fully clothed. I could see the curve of muscle every time he reached for something, every time he lifted his arm to drink water. His abs were washboard flat beneath his suit, thighs powerful and made for hiking.
This man must be magnificent making his way up those advanced trails I’d gone on just last summer. He probably ran up them and barely broke a sweat.
Regardless, every time I tried to drop something or even break something, he was either there before I had the chance, or reacted like any normal human being.
Enough so that I was about to give up. With a sigh, I stood and pointed to the bar.
“I need more water.”
I didn’t ask him if he wanted anything. This wasn’t a ploy; I was just getting tired. I couldn’t focus on the project or what he was saying because I was too busy trying to catch him in the act.
The moment I lifted the pitcher, Declan was at my side. I jerked back in surprise and the pitcher dinged against th
e counter, knocking it from my hand.
It shattered on the floor a moment later.
This time, my surprise and mortification was real. “I’m so sorry.” I crouched to clean up my mess. “I didn’t mean—”
Declan gripped my arm, hauling me up with barely veiled strength. His hand was like steel around my arm. “Leave it,” he snapped.
“But—but, it really was an accident.” This time.
A muscle moved in his jaw, and he released me to rub his hand on his forehead. It made me feel like a little kid that just wouldn’t stop bothering her father when he was trying to get his work done.
“Just…” Declan gestured to the table. “Sit down.”
Guilt swamped me as I sat. It truly had been an accident. But despite that, I’d been fucking things up all day. And those were on purpose.
Declan looked to be at his limit.
He snagged several bottles of water out of the refrigerator and walked to me with long, purposeful strides. He set the bottles on the table with a loud thud.
“Here. Here’s all the water you should need for the next several hours. I have something I need to do. I’ll send Tim in with a task.”
Then he turned abruptly, grabbed a tablet off his desk, and strode from the room.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, feeling miserable, and read the text from Xander.
Man, he’s pissed.
I typed back, What an astute assessment, you asshole.
I swore I could hear his laughter.
He is as slow as molasses in January, Xander wrote. Definitely not The Flash. Batman, though…
I was about ready to tell him where he could shove it and take off the bumblebee pin when Tim came through the door.
He smiled at me, glanced at the three bottles of water sitting right in front of me, and then sat at the table.
“Hey, thanks for offering to help,” he said. “I’m swamped today.”
I bit my lip. I definitely had not offered to help, but it was nice that Declan had phrased it that way to Tim.
“So,” he said, setting down a stack of papers. “We have all sorts of physical and digital correspondence.” He pointed to his computer screen where I saw dozens of emails addressed to a main Dark Enterprises address. “I need to finish sorting through and then direct people to the right places and…”