But the feelings bubbling up through my chest inside that café were almost…primal. Something inside me called to him, which sounded completely and utterly ridiculous.
More ridiculous than a marketing executive having recurring, murderous nightmares?
Valid.
Regardless, I wasn’t going to see him again. I would make certain of it. Whatever my bodythoughtit wanted, it was wrong.
I wanted security, not danger.
I wanted contentment, not whatever high I would be chasing withhim.
No, I was better off leaving him behind, in the dark where he belonged. Yet, as I walked away sipping at my coffee, I wondered if this was a breaking point between my two identities. The one who was painfully honest with herself in the dark of night, and the one who was deathly afraid of what the shadows held.
Chapter
Three
BLAIRE
Sitting in my small cubicle, I wasn’t sure if it was possible for work to get any worse. Everything had piled up over the last few weeks, leaving me working twice as hard just to keep up.
Burying my face in my hands, I wondered where the hell I went wrong. I couldn’t gethisface out of my mind. He screamed trouble, everything from his ripped black jeans, to those goddamn tattoos I couldn’t stop imagining. I hadn’t even heard his voice, and yet he already occupied a large part of my brain.
Already. As if there was going to be more of him in my head. I scoffed, scrubbing my hands over my face. There would never bemore.
I needed to focus on fixing my sleep. I needed a list. I grabbed my computer, and started typing out the words as they came to me.
Step One: Call your psychologist. Yes, Blaire. The psychologist you insisted you didn’t need to see again. Call them.
Step Two: Research holistic methods to help with sleep. Melatonin, maybe?
Step Three: Stop with the stupid nightmares already. It was just my mind wandering, I should be able to control it. The nightmare was helping nothing.
Step Four: Convince Harry I’m ready for the promotion he mentioned months ago. Promotion = more money = safer apartment = no more bad dreams.
Step Five: Stop thinking about the damn man at the coffee shop. It’s never going to happen. Stop being an idiot, and
“Knock, knock.”
I slammed my laptop shut at the sound of a voice behind me, and whipped around in my chair to see Duke, one of my colleagues. He smiled at me, a smile that had seen years of braces as a teen, and whitening treatment as an adult. It was too perfect, and unnerved me when I thought about it for too long.
“What can I do for you?” I asked, trying to not appear as unsettled as I felt. How long had he been standing there? Had he seen my stupid list? I wouldn’t put it past him to spy on me.
Duke and I had gone on a single date, years ago when we both started at the firm. Like countless women before me, I found myself suckered in by his charm, his perfect wardrobe, and the way his light brown hair never seemed out of place. Halfway through our dinner, I realized that wasallhe had going for him. Duke had replaced actual personality with what he no doubt considered sparkling perfectionism. While it was enticing from a distance, it bored me out of my mind.
“I had agreatmeeting with Harry this morning, and he asked me if I could send you over on my way back to my office. Hopefully I left him in an excellent mood for you.” Duke leaned against the cubicle wall, casually crossing one ankle in front of the other. Perfectly, of course.
I rolled my eyes. After our disastrous date, Duke wanted to go out again. I tried to let him down easy, but he wasn’t the kindof guy who dealt with rejection well. I wasn’t sure he had ever forgiven me for it.
“Aren’t you just the sweetest?” I cooed.
Duke shrugged. “It’s no secret that Harry needs someone to fill that executive role. If we’re being honest with ourselves, I’m the best candidate.”
There it was again, that word.Honest. I was beginning to doubt anyone knew what honesty was, besides something you told yourself enough times there was nothing else to believe.
I huffed, getting to my feet. “You and I both know I brought in more clients last year."
Duke smiled, a slimy thing I wanted to wipe off his perfectly smug face. “Maybe. But we also both know who’s been on top of their game lately. And you, sweetheart, have been sleepwalking for weeks.”
