“So,” I clear my throat as we head down the hallway towards the elevator, and Delaney turns to me. “Did you just move stuff around your flat, too, or did you buy some new furniture?”
“Why’re you asking about the layout of my flat?” Delaney asks sharply, accusatorily, and I pause mid-step to stare at her in surprise. She glares, a fire in her eyes as the silence grows dense. The hairs on the back of my neck bristle wildly before I shake my head.
“No, you just said you’d rearranged your flat, so I wondered if you’d bought anything new like end tables or. . . maybe you chose a different color for your kitchen appliances. I didn’t mean anything by it, Delaney.” I resist the urge to fucking slap myself; what kind of shitty question did I ask? Briefly, Delaney scans me suspiciously before accepting my logic.
“Good,” Facing forward to stride the last few feet to the elevator, Delaney looks back when I don’t follow her. “What? Are you coming?”
Jogging lightly to catch up, my muscles burn with morbid curiosity and worry and even shame. Shame that something had happened, and Delaney doesn’t trust me enough to let me help her. There’s so much about her I don’t know, but at the same time, the things I do are. . . deep. Dark.
I don’t know what kind of tv she watches, but I get glimpses of that fear when I’m first on top of her. That primordial revulsion that flickers on Delaney’s face when I eat her juicy pussy and look up. As if she believes she’s something off the floor that I just picked up because it was there. Even that little choke of disgust every time I make her cum that proceeds to the realization that she’s safe and feeling good.
“Baron?” I blink as Delaney’s voice pulls me from my horrific thoughts, and she holds open the elevator with one hand. “Are you coming?” She asks again.
“Sure,” I step into the metal box, glancing at my reflection in the paneled wall. Delaney jabs the ground floor button with her thumb before I turn to her. “I thought you’d rather go alone. You’re flip-flopping between combative and. . . less so. It’s worrying me, love. Are you sure you’re not sick? Did you find out something at the doctors the other day?”
“I’m not telling you,” There’s that flat, normal tone she always uses, but her face is anything but. She grimaces, her sunken cheeks puffing out as she actively resist the urge to gag. Alarm bells ring in my head, but really. . . how far can I push her? Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, Delaney gulps harshly before coughing. “It’s nothing. It’s just overwork.”
“I’m sure that’s part of it, but I won’t push you about the rest. How about you take a second break during the day? You can take your lunch an hour early and another break around 4?” I offer before the elevator jostles to a stop. Delaney thinks on it, and hope blossoms in my chest.
“That sounds fine, but we usually have lunch together.” Trailing off expectantly, Delaney casts me a sidelong glance. The elevator doors slide open, and she steps out first. I follow, thanking God fucking Almighty silently as I lick my lips in preparation.
“The construction crew is going to be working the next month, so we’ll be at low capacity. Basically events only. Since you’ve already done the legwork for the events coming up the next four weeks, all I’m doing is signing off on the vendors. I have plenty of time,” I answer as Delaney and I leave the hotel lobby. There’s nary a soul in the place, and I fight a condemned sigh. “I don’t know if the hotel can withstand all this. First, I fired my event coordinator, and poor Tom went off his rocker for a while there. Now, the construction that was supposed to be done two weeks from now will be four weeks away at best. Not to mention all the money I’ve had to pull out for the rush order, and that little shit- Granby and his friend. I’ll be in litigation with them forever. It’s probably not even worth it trying to get my money back.”
“We’ll make it work,” Delaney’s determination shines in her tone; yet another major emotional swing. She even grabs my hand, squeezing, and staring at me with a look that could take over the world. “We will, Baron. It’ll be rocky, but we got this, aye?”
“As long as I have you, Delaney.” I coo with a chuckle, and Delaney sticks out her tongue at me. The change is enough to give me whiplash, and I tug her arm to hang my own around her neck. Kissing her temple, I take a deep breath of her smell, wondering when she’ll pull away and glare at me again.
I’m not telling you.Those four, little words had settled her nerves so much. Saying them? Or was it my response? I don’t suppose it matters either way.
CHAPTER4
DELANEY
Holding my phone to my ear with my shoulder, I squint at the computer screen and groan.
“I’ve been on hold forever,” I mutter to myself before my cell phone begins vibrating. Bran’s name pops up, and I grab it to hold it to my other ear. “Bran! Thank God! I don’t know if I can handle this hold music any longer!”
“Sounds better than the flight we just took from Berlin to Paris. There was a toddler screeching the entire time.” Bran starts, and I snort roughly.
“What is this, aye? The pain olympics? So, you’re in Paris right now? Are you staying there overnight?” I ask anxiously, glancing at the time on my computer. “It’s nearly 11? I didn’t realize it was so late?”
“Our flight got delayed, so aye, we just got to the hotel now. You’re really at work? Why?” Bran asks, and I bite my bottom lip hard.
“I’ve been trying to contact florists,” I say dismissively and roll my eyes. “We have a wedding coming up in a few days, and supposedly, he’s taken the money and disappeared. A few days isn’t enough time to really get replacement arrangements, though. I had an emergency meeting with the bride and groom about an hour ago. It was about as awful as a toddler screaming on a plane.”
“But. . . I thought you use reputable vendors?” Confusion thickens Bran’s tone, and I groan in exasperation.
“The couple insisted on their own vendors because it was cheaper, and I. . . guess she got what she paid for? None of the other ones have been a problem, but I- well, it doesn’t really matter at this point. What’s frustrating for me is that I have to be up all night making emergency calls to find a florist that’s got this particular color of flower. I had to talk the bride off the edge about the species. There’s no way we can be so picky,” I complain, setting my landline on the receiver to hang up. Leaning back, I sigh heavily. “It’s okay, though. I’m getting an assistant. My boss insisted upon it. This probably would’ve still happened if I’d been able to properly vet the vendors, but at least next time I’ll be prepared.”
“Sounds like you’ve had quite the day,” Bran agrees, and I flop forward to brace my forehead on my arm on my desk with a groan. “I know it’s been a while since we spoke. How is your new job, anyway?”
“It’s. . . exactly how I remember it being when I worked for Delilah those few times,” I reveal, my voice guttural with dread. “I’m so good at what I do that I just have to make things harder for myself.”
Bran’s laughter explodes through my phone, and I smile warmly. It’s good to hear his voice. Tomorrow, he’ll be back in London, and we can meet up. I glance up warily at the clock on the computer screen. “What time is your flight tomorrow?”
“Ah, around noon, we should be landing in London. I just wanted to ring you and let you know. I’ve been thinking about you, Delaney,” Bran’s confession worms through my veins like magma, and I sit up as my heart flutters wildly. “I felt so guilty, going on this trip. I know I shouldn’t, but I worry about you. Whenever I think of you doing anything, I. . . worry.”
“Aw, Bran,” I choke as my throat tightens at the genuineness in his tone. Glancing down, I clench and release my jaw and place my free hand on my abdomen. Guilt- I know a thing or two about that. “I’m doing better now that I have a job, aye? Don’t worry about me so much. You should focus on being happy. That’s what I’m doing. I will be happy, come Hell or highwater, damnit!”
