“That must have been boring research,” she says.
Declan chuckles. “There weren’t any skeletons in your closet. You’re normal, not boring.”
“Normal,” she echoes, mouth twisted. “I don’t know if anyone’s ever called me normal before.”
She shakes her head and waves goodbye, wandering off down the hallway, munching on her apple.
“She’s weird right?”
“Yeah,” Declan mutters, watching her walk away. “But I think I like her.”
“Okay,” I say, drawing out the words. Declan shoots me a look and shakes his head.
“Sure, she’s a little different, but that’s not a bad thing, especially for you.”
“What the fuck do you mean?”
“I mean, you’re used to a certain kind of woman. All the women in your department flirt with you,
even the older married ones. You’re used to that dynamic. Maya seems different.”
“She doesn’t flirt, that’s for damn sure. I don’t even think she’s wearing makeup. And that fucking
dress.” My lips curl in disgust as I stare at her retreating back. “A paper bag has more shape.”
Declan’s chuckles grate over my annoyed ears. I turn and aim a punch at his stomach, and he
dances back with a laugh. “You sound like a douchenozzle,” he says through his laughter.
“Whatever the fuck a douchenozzle is, it sure as hell isn’t me.” I rake my hand through my hair
unconsciously, then carefully pat it into place again. “It’s not wrong to have standards. She looks like
she shops at a thrift store run by an eighty-year-old. She can’t represent the company like that. They’ll
think we can’t afford to pay our staff.”
Declan’s eyes turn serious. “I think you might find that no one pays as much attention to the way
she dresses as you do. I wear jeans and hoodies every day. Jonas refuses to wear suits. We all have
our things.”
“Maybe, but my department is different. We’re out there representing this company. She’s going to
have to fall in line.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, eyes fixed over my shoulder. “Well, I guess you’ll have to talk
to her about that.” His lips curve into a grin, “if you can find her.”
Frowning, I spin in time to see the elevator doors close. “Fuck.”
Declan’s laughing words follow me as I jog down the hall. “Does she even know where she’s
going?”
No, no, she doesn’t.
