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Chapter 17
Sophie
The next morning, the amazing dress from last night looks downright accusatory crumpled over a chair. I scowl at it as if everything that happened between Declan and me is its fault. It’s not, of course, but blaming it is easier than facing reality.
The dress stays stubbornly in my periphery as I get ready for work, pulling on the nicest skirt and blouse combination I can manage.
I pause when my phone dings with a text notification.
REAGAN: How was last night?
I squeeze my eyes shut and groan.
ME: A disaster named Declan.
The three dots that indicate typing show up immediately, then stop. Then start again.
REAGAN: You know what? This is better said in person. Meet me outside?
The morning air is brisk on my face, and the city that never sleeps is singing a different tune as a different population of people—the nine-to-five crowd—start waking up for their days.
Reagan is waiting for me, her tousled head sticking out the window. She gives me a grin, the freckles spreading across her cheeks.
“Screw that guy,” she says almost cheerfully.
I splutter a laugh. “Excuse me, what?”
“Okay, okay, let’s back up. I’ll give him a fair trial. What happened last night that was so disastrous with Declan?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know, Reagan. He’s fire and ice. Jekyll and Hyde and back again. Just when I think I have him figured out, he turns on me and shows me a new face. A new personality. I don’t know how to read him. I went from thinking we were going to have sex right there and then at the party to being concerned about my job.”
Reagan bangs her hand on her window sill. “The judge has heard everything she needs to hear. Her original verdict stands: Screw that guy.”
I have to laugh loud and long at that. “Yeah, probably.”
“I mean, think of it this way: You’re dodging a bullet. Two bullets, even. This guy can’t get his personalities straight, and he’s directly responsible for how you pay your rent.” Reagan gives me a look that’s full of sympathy. “I know he’s probably sexy, Sophie, but it’s probably for the best that there’s a little space between you after last night. Mixing work and play can get really complicated.”
“You’re right,” I say. She is. I know this. And yet I feel things for Declan when he acts a certain way. I’m attracted to him, but it runs so much deeper than that. Deeper than I’m maybe even willing to mine to figure out.
“Your mouth is saying that I’m right, but your face isn’t quite convinced yet,” Reagan says. “I know this is hard.”
“No, no.” I slash my hand through the air. “This job means too much to me to derail it because of sex. Because of my boss. I can have sex with anyone. Anyone except him.”
“That’s the spirit,” Reagan urges with a laugh. “And if you do, report back to me immediately! I’m living vicariously through you, you know. Long-distance dating is just the worst.”
“I hear you,” I say.
“Get out of here,” she cajoles, waving me away. “And have a good day!”
A good day after a night like last night feels like a tall order, but I give her a nod anyway. “I’ll try.”
* * *
I’m not as early as I usually am when I emerge from the subway just outside of the Dynasty office, but I decide to take a moment for myself and get a lavender latte from the little place just down the street.
After all, I deserve it. I want to continue the day’s theme of putting my needs and goals first. Declan might be my boss, but I’m going to make my own decisions.
“Looking good, stranger,” David greets me as I stride in the door.
