“Do you need a minute?” She asks, and dizziness makes my brain spin on its stem. Gulping harshly, I slide off the exam table, but my body moves without my mind telling it to. Grabbing my purse, I leave the room. I can’t see; my vision is bleary and dark. Faintly, I can hear the doctor calling my name as I shoulder my way out of the back and into reception.
CHAPTER3
BARON
Istep off the elevator onto the staff floor to look around. The construction upstairs is just getting back on track, and I can feel the faint vibrations through the floor. Palming the wall absently, I snort in frustration.
I had to shell out extra to get WW Construction to take this job on such short notice, with such a fucking short timetable. Christ. Delaney doing such wonderful work with events coordination only got me so far out of the red, but this set me back again. Seems like everytime I claw my way up I stumble back down again.
Sauntering down the corridor, I pause outside Delaney’s open office door. Surprise knocks the air from my lungs. Her office is a mess! All her furniture is in disarray, and huge stacks of paper take up every flat surface. Knocking on the doorframe, I clear my throat loudly, and she whirls around with a gasp.
But the sight of Delaney is more shocking than her office. She’s not wearing a drop of makeup, the huge, dark bags under her eyes on full display. Her face is paler, her freckles less vibrant and cheeks sunken in worse than ever. Concern floods my veins as I step into her office, but she immediately steps back.
“Delaney, what the Hell? You look terrible, love,” I question, and a cold sweat creates a sheen over her forehead and upper lip. Delaney looks around, anywhere but me. “What happened?”
“The desk is too heavy,” Delaney blurts out in a high-pitched, crackly tone that scrapes my ear drums painfully. Questions swirl in my head, but I ignore them as she points at her desk with a shaky finger. “I cannae move it.”
“I’ll help you.” I start towards her, but she holds out both her hands. They’re shaking so hard; it’s no wonder she can’t grip anything. Alarm and worry cloud my vision. What’s going on? I’ve never seen her in such a state? My thought race as I go over what could be the cause of this in my mind.
“No. You stay- stay there. Don’t come any closer,” Her voice cracks harshly, like shattering glass, and I flinch as I step back into the hallway. What the fuck happened yesterday while she was off? But it’s a question I won’t get an answer to with her like this. “Just- just stay. Stay.”
“I’ll stay out here.” I agree, and Delaney stares at me with wide, suspicious eyes. Waiting for me to move. Waiting for me to try to bulldoze my way in? I purse my lips thinly before she tears her eyes off me to look around her office. Gripping the edge of the desk with just her fingertips, she hoists the wooden furniture up about an inch and moves it another inch. Then, she walks around to the other side and does the same thing.
“Why’re you moving your furniture around, Delaney?” I ask eventually, and Delaney grimaces deeply. Her gaunt face flushes deep red, eyes boggling slightly. But whatever she’s thinking doesn’t escape her as she hits the top of the desk with her palm weakly.
“It’s too heavy,” She whispers, her eyes wandering, unfocused, before they find me again. Delaney blinks, and I hold my breath when she points at me. “Come help me move this, Baron.”
“Alright.” I accept, taking a tentative step forward. This time, Delaney doesn’t protest; in fact, she looks annoyed I’m taking forever. Grabbing one side of the desk under the support, I wait for her to do the same before easily picking up the desk.
This thing is, like, 25 kilograms, tops. It’s basically paper. The wood’s not even real in some places. There’s no reason she shouldn’t be able to move it by herself. Absently, Delaney mumbles too low for me to hear as we move her desk to the wall to the right of the door.
“That’s good. I like that,” She glances at me through red-rimmed eyes. “What do you think?”
“I think it looks good. Did you wake up today and decide to do some redecorating?” I ask tentatively, and Delaney shrugs. Something about her is. . . off. Way fucking off. “You know, we have other stuff in storage, if you want to take a look.”
“No, I like this desk. Aye,” Delaney nods to herself. Is she having some sort of psychotic break? Is it safe for her to be here? Is it safe for me to be with her? Should I get a female employee, or just send Delaney home? No, this probably happened because she was alone with herself too long. Guilt claws at the back of my throat before she turns to me. “I figured it’d be a good thing. Aye? Rearrange some stuff. New configuration, new me?”
“That’s a good idea. Did you rearrange your flat, too?” I ask.
“Yes.” Delaney answers, but she doesn’t say anything else before grabbing a sheath of papers off the floor. Setting them on her desk, she puffs a breath, like just the little she did took the wind out of her.
“Delaney, are you feeling sick?” I ask, and Delaney pauses to look at me with bright eyes. Too bright eyes. She holds up the back of her hand to her forehead and frowns. Closing the distance between us, I take my turn cautiously. She doesn’t flinch, and she’s not hot as I shake my head. “You don’t have a fever or anything. Do you want the room colder? You’re sweating.”
Delaney shakes her head, looking down at herself. “I’ve just been moving everything around in here. I’m fine. I don’t feel sick or hot.”
“All day?” Suddenly, I regret not having the time to come check on Delaney. I’d been upstairs with the construction crew all damned day. She shrugs again, staring at me with those glimmering eyes. “You should’ve texted me. I would’ve helped you.”
Rather than answer me, Delaney looks around at her office. She seems. . . listless isn’t a good word for it. Dazed and confused. Unable to pick a direction. Unable to decide what to do. I watch her, trying to figure out what question to ask, if any at all. In the entire time I’d known her, Delaney had never acted like this. If she was feeling uneasy, she’d just say so. It breaks my heart to see her in such a way. I just want to scoop her up and hold her against my chest but I’m sure she won’t want that right now. If only she’d tell me what she needs.
Rarely was she at a loss for words; even if she didn’t want to tell me what was going on, she’d simply say that instead of coming up with a white lie. Rather than say ‘I’m fine’, Delaney would be straightforward about it. Whatever ‘it’ is.
“I’m about to head out for dinner. Would you like to come with me?” I offer, and Delaney’s stomach grumbles loudly. Covering her belly with both hands, she blushes fiercely. Chuckling lightly, I nod and hold out my hand for her. Something in her face changes, and she purses her lips. The cogs in her mind work noticeably. “Just dinner, love.”
“Okay,” But Delaney doesn’t take my hand, hiding hers behind her back. Clenching my jaw, I retract my palm. “Where do you want to go? I didn’t eat lunch. Or, we can order in?”
“I’m thinking Italian?” I pose, knowing it’s Delaney’s favorite food. She brightens almost instantly, and a ghost of a smile stretches my lips. Gesturing me out of her office, she grabs her purse off the desk and flicks off the lights before following. My heart pounds when she stops, making sure I’m in her peripheral vision at all times.
Shit. I have to say something, but the words clog my throat.
