Granby stiffens and stands up, his face tinging pink with rage. “You of all people should know that construction is never on time, Baron! Modifying a building isn’t as easy as knocking down some walls!” He shoots back at me, taking up for his friend. It’s not like him to question what I tell him. It’s the last time he will.
“Shut up,” I growl lowly, my eyelid twitching as my lips curls in a sneer. “You go tell your friend he lost you both your jobs, Granby. Get out of my office. You’re fired.”
Granby’s mouth hangs open in shock before he chuffs and gathers himself stiffly. Storming out of my office, he leaves in a whirl of aggravation, but I’m unsympathetic. I’d given him chances to come clean about the state of construction. I flop my head back and groan gutturally, staring at the ceiling. A few floors above, the construction had barely started.
“I shelled out too much money on this ‘friend’,” I mutter to myself, dragging my palm down my mouth and chin. It’s a typical story- Granby’s friend would give me a good deal for quality work, but ended up doing a half-ass job and taking for-fucking-ever. “Delaney is single handedly pulling me out of the red. I have to promote Tom to Granby’s position and call WW Construction. This isn’t what I wanted to do right before my lunch hour.”
Snatching my phone off my desk, I shoot Delaney a short text to meet me in my office. My thumbs hover over the screen before I request Tom’s presence as well. I might as well get it over with, I suppose.
Indecision wars in my chest; Granby knew his job hung on this project. He was directly attached to it, and I had been uneasy not going with WW Construction originally. The company had done many of my builds and renovations, and I trust them. I’m obviously wrong to put that same trust in Granby’s little, dinky friend. I knew I should have stayed true to my gut and just went with my first choice. Shaking my head, I stand up to walk to my filing cabinet to rifle around inside.
A soft, polite knock echoes around my office, and I call to enter without taking my head out of the filing cabinet. Clenching and releasing my jaw, frustration slithers up my neck. This cabinet isn’t organized alphabetically. Ignoring the eyes on me, I suck my teeth lightly when I finally find Tom’s file.
“I just fired Granby,” I toss out the declaration, shutting the drawer and glancing over at Tom. Relief plays dramatically on his face before he stiffens, his eyes snapping to mine. “If you want the job, it’s yours, Tom. I have several general managers lined up for interview, and I know you don’t want all the responsibility, but I figured I’d offer it anyway.”
“Uh, no, I’d rather die,” Tom squeaks out, and I chuckle as he goes white as a sheet. Holding up his hands, he shakes his head hastily. “As the general manager, not an assistant manager.”
“I thought you might say that. Here’s a list of candidates,” I smile nicely, and Tom takes the folder with gratitude shining in his pale, brown eyes. “I’ll let you conduct interviews. We’ll split Granby’s work for now, and have IT take his access. Oh, and make sure he leaves promptly.” I shoot him a look and see him jotting down notes. Fuck, I wish he’d just take the position. At least with him I know shit would get done.
“With pleasure.” Tom says before walking out of my office with a pep in his step. As the door swings open I watch him step to the side and let Delaney in before he exits. I bite back a groan as I watch Delaney saunter in. Scanning her coral colored, thin turtleneck and pencil skirt, I lick my lips heavily. The quiet drums in my ears before I focus on her face, her lips stretching in a fond smile.
Good God, she’s gorgeous. Her sleek, fiery red hair glistens in the bright, white lights of my office. Holding out a hand for her, I wait for her. Cautious flickers in her eyes- that same, brief fear that grips her in a vice until she realizes it’s not warranted. Not with me. But still, my heart shrivels in my chest even while her soft fingertips slip along my palm. I hate that she has ever had anything to fear and long for the day she’ll realize while she’s with me she never will have need to fear anything again.
“How’re you doing today, Delaney?” I ask. Now, I can see the light bags under her eyes that she’s hiding with makeup. Delaney grimaces, turning her face away as she leans tentatively against my chest. I cup the back of her head, kneading her scalp tenderly. “Bad night again?”
“It wasn’t. . . terrible,” She answers tentatively, looking up at me with shadows playing in her big, green eyes. I can lose myself in Delaney’s eyes, counting the numerous freckles on her skin. She puckers her lips, reaching to palm my chest through my shirt and play with the buttons. “I was able to fall asleep again, at least.”
“You wanna lay down and rest?” I pose my question carefully, throwing my thumb over my shoulder at the door at the back of my office. “I’ll stay with you. It’s our lunch hour, so no one will miss us.”
“I still need to eat, and I have to confirm the last minute change this bride ordered for,” Trailing off, Delaney shakes her head with a hot sigh that rolls down my chest. Worry tingles the bridge of my nose when she rests her cheek on my chest. “Let’s just. . . stay like this.”
“I can have something brought up here, Delaney. Let’s sit on the sofa, at least. Don’t want you falling off me,” I crack a smirk when Delaney glances up, a chuff of a laugh escaping her. Pulling my hand out from under her luscious bun, I walk over to the sofa to lay down and pat my chest invitingly. She seizes up briefly, so quick I used to worry I’d imagined it, before laying down between my legs. Her stiffness makes it uncomfortable, and she wiggles and rolls onto her back quickly. “Tell me about it?”
Very carefully, I reach to pull her hair from its tie and begin running my hands through the long strands. Maybe, I’ll get lucky and she’ll nod off. Delaney’s sleepless nights haunt me; I can always tell when they happen. Sympathy grips my heart in a vice, but I can’t do anything more than I am. Smooth palms glide up my arms, and Delaney takes a massive breath. I can feel her shoulder blades pop from the pressure against my pectoral muscles.
It must’ve been bad last night, and she’s downplaying it.
“I don’t know what else I can do,” Delaney murmurs, a darkness coloring her tone. Lifting her hands, she splays her fingers at the ceiling while my own rhythmically thread her hair. “I went to sleep last night feeling good. I talked to Luna for a little bit over the weekend, and we made plans for Friday. I even. . . made myself dinner for the first time in a while. I don’t know where I went wrong.”
“Hmm.” I hum gutturally in acknowledgment when Delaney pauses, clenching her hands into frustrated fists high above us.
“The ni- nightmare. . . is always the same. I’m at a pub, and I can see- see. . . him,” Her voice cracks, and Delaney rolls onto her stomach awkwardly. Crawling to straddle me, her fierce gaze rains down on me as she braces hot palms on my chest. Desperation tightens her jaw. “I can see him- every time I close my eyes, I can see him. I see the wall. I can smell it- whatever they used to cover up the smell of piss and vomit. I did therapy, Baron. I did everything she said. . . so. . . why? Why?”
“Maybe, being overworked and living alone is getting to you. It’s not even been a year, yet, Delaney, and you haven’t seen your brother or sister-in-law since they went trapezing across Europe, right?” I know I’m not saying anything that Delaney hasn’t already thought of. The way she’s looking at me, it’s almost like she wants my permission. My permission. . . to suffer in front of me. To take this ugly, inky blackness that covers her heart and expose it all. A thick curtain of hair falls over her shoulder, and I reach to push it back and cup her cheek. “It’s rather recent, isn’t it? A couple weeks? It could be that the initial rush of absolutely smashing this job is running dry, and you miss your brother. You shouldn’t panic about growing pains, love.”
“What if striking up a relationship with you was a mistake?” Delaney asks worriedly, trouble knitting her brows. I try to minimize the hurt that flows through my veins; that’s not what she means. It’s just how it came out. “What if I did it wrong?”
“Then you can tell your therapist and ask her to help you figure it out. But, Delaney, you have to stop worrying that something’s wrong with you, love. Anything you’re going through, you should be. Your recovery is about you finding the strength to take that dream and turn it inside out,” I spew out some shit before I can stop myself, and Delaney’s brows knit tighter. Her lips thin in thought. Taking a breath, I silently curse my big fucking mouth. “Next time you have the dream. . . stab him with the toilet paper holder? Hit him with a beer bottle. Something. Anything. It’s just your mind, love, playing tricks on you.”
“Y- you think I can do that?” Delaney asks quietly, and the silence between us rings loudly in my ears. I nod, gripping her biceps gently and smiling. She’s tense, and I hate it.
“I think, if the meds don’t work, and you don’t want to ask your brother to come be a bulwark against your nightmares. . . you have to do something about them yourself. Maybe, you should try a hypnotist?” I posit, and Delaney’s head snaps back in surprise. Her eyes widen, her nails digging into my chest when she frowns at me. “It could work, love. You won’t know unless you try. Unorthodox as it is, hypno-therapy is a thing. Ask your own therapist about it when you see her next.”
Delaney doesn’t say anything as she sits back, a dazed, far-away look clouding her eyes. Her plump ass cradles my cock in my slacks, but the conversation isn’t doing me any favors. No, it leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Reaching to caress her cheek, I touch the dots smattered over her nose with my fingertip. “I love making love to you, Delaney, but at the same time. . . I want to do something romantic without worrying you’ll flee like a scared rabbit. It could be as simple as you’re working too hard, trying to ignore it. It could be as complex as. . . you’re worried about your brother and sister-in-law coming back. He’s the one you lived with before, right?”
Delaney nods mutely, turbulence darkening her eyes as she turns her face away from me. I fight a sigh, my chest tightening as I work my arm under my head. “But he has his own place, and his own woman, and neither of those involves you. That’s scary, love. From what you’ve told me, you’ve lost so much in such a short period of time. Your attack and feeling like moving to a whole other country to escape it. You and your brother are here, and he’s newly married. And yet, here you are. . . just being you.”
“That’s exactly it, Baron,” Delaney whispers hoarsely, big, fat tears welling in her eyes. Sniffling harshly, she cranes her neck before flopping down on me heavily. Knocking the air from my lungs, Delaney’s heat seeps through my clothes. “I hate being me.”
