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I sag with relief, hugging my knees, as Declan’s legs transport him around the corner and down a hallway as David the barista works on his order.
I straighten up, about to slip out of the coffee shop and slink home, when a sudden thought strikes me.
What the hell am I running from?
This is as much my city as it is his. I have every right to be here. I don’t want to have to sneak around New York, always praying I won’t bump into him.
And as a matter of fact, now that our paths have crossed again, I want him to tell me to my face why he wouldn’t hire me.
“Hey!” I’m on my feet and walking before my brain fully catches up. “Hey! Why didn’t I get hired?”
Declan looks over his shoulder, sees me, and scowls. He doesn’t stop, opening a door adjacent to the hallway, and now I’m really pissed off. I’m right behind him, close enough to slam the door open and against the wall.
“I’m talking to you,” I seethe before realizing that I’ve followed him into the men’s restroom. A urinal is mounted on the wall right next to me, and as Declan turns to face me fully, he arches an eyebrow.
Oh. Shit.
I have enough presence of mind to flush at the close quarters—and the quarters themselves—but I’m not backing down. Not when I’ve worked this hard to dig myself out of the hole I fell into after my parents died and pursue my dream job. Not when the person who dashed that dream is right in front of me.
“Do I need to repeat myself?” I demand. “I asked you why I didn’t get hired.”
“If you have any questions about why you weren’t right for the position, you can take them up with HR.” He’s as cool as a cucumber, and it just infuriates me even more.
“That’s just it,” I press. “Gigi told me I was exactly what your company is looking for. Exactly what you all need. And then you and I crossed paths again. I know you remember me from San Francisco, I could see it in your eyes. And I’m out on the street again. I want to know what happened. Why won’t you hire me?”
“I don’t mix business with pleasure,” Declan says flatly, and I scoff so loudly it echoes off the tiled walls of the restroom.
“That would imply that I got any pleasure out of it at all,” I shoot back.
He smirks, even as his gray eyes smolder. “Liar.”
Fine. Point. Not even the best actress in the world could’ve fabricated the sounds Declan elicited from me that night. Me not enjoying myself in the hottest encounter of my life is a lie so bold I decide not to pursue it.
But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up.
“Gigi told me you need new blood, and that’s what I am,” I say. “I have the qualifications, and the fresh eyes to help Dynasty reach the level you’re aiming for. Just ask her how I was in the interview. Listen to her, for god’s sake.”
He shakes his head once. Sharp. “No. The decision has already been made.”
“It had already been made,” I insist. “I was going to get hired. That was the decision you reversed. You’re willing to let yourself get distracted by something that happened a whole year ago. You know what? This is your mistake. And it shows your character that you would disregard what I could bring to the table just because of San Francisco.”
“It’s not happening,” he says, biting off each syllable, his thunderous brow darkening even more.
“Why not?” I lift my chin at him, standing my ground even though this bathroom definitely isn’t big enough for the two of us. “I’m a hard worker, and I know what I’m doing. I want the chance to prove myself before you throw away this possibility. You don’t mix business with pleasure? Fine. Then don’t.”
I look at him up and down, hoping I can make him feel just as vulnerable as I feel right now. It’s probably a hopeless cause. This man is shameless, and his arms crossed over his chest just remind me of how they felt around my body. I remember when his face wasn’t as stern and cold as it is now. I just hope there’s a little bit of humanity left in him.
“I know that I won’t,” I continue, keeping my voice even. “In fact, I’m not even going to be tempted. Honestly, I’ll admit that I felt something when I saw you again. I had no idea you were the CEO of Dynasty. There was no reason to think I’d ever see you after that night. But this, me applying to work at your company, has nothing to do with San Francisco.”
Declan’s eyes tighten at the corners just a fraction at the mention of San Francisco. There’s no other outward sign of what he might be feeling, but he hasn’t kicked me out of the men’s room or left and told David there’s a crazy woman in here, so I figure I’d better keep going. He’s listening, at least.
“I hope you enjoyed that night,” I say, holding his gaze. “Because it’s never going to happen again. Nothing is going to happen between us. I came to New York to make a name for myself, to build a career I can be proud of. And I know that my future career is with your company. I’ll be a great asset.”
I’m a little out of breath when I stop. The silence is as large as another entire person crammed into this space, and Declan studies me with that predator’s gaze, like he’s sizing up what kind of meal I’m going to make.
“You’ve made your point,” he says finally. “I’ll give you a chance. On a trial basis.”
Electric excitement laced with relief crawls up my spine. Oh my god, I did it. I don’t care about whatever trial basis he’s talking about. An opportunity is an opportunity, and a job is a job.
