16. Declan

16

DECLAN

A loud beeping sound interrupted my sleep. Typically, I was a light sleeper, but for some reason, I was finding it difficult to force my heavy lids open. When I finally did, my vision was blurry. It took me a few moments to focus before I was able to get my bearings.

I wasn’t in my home. I was at a hotel. My hotel. And I was alone. I knew that before I even checked. I could sense it.

As I stared up at the ceiling, images and senses from the night before began to fill my head. Long red hair cascading down a perfect hourglass figure in a lace thong and heels. A fresh and sweet berry scent. Pink, feminine folds, glistening with sweet juices. Huge, mesmerizing blue eyes. The melodic sound of steady breaths.

I’d stayed awake for at least an hour just holding the woman from the bar while she slept, rubbing my hand up and down the slope of her back. I’d never done that before—not with any partner. Not with Serena. Not with Lucia, the woman I dated before Serena, and not with Wren, who was my college girlfriend. Or Talia, who I was with in high school.

There was something special about Carrie. Something wholly unique about our encounter. I wondered if I’d done the wrong thing by not telling her who I really was. If I’d fucked up by not getting her last name or phone number.

Last night, it seemed like the right thing—the logical thing to do. I was coming off of a seven-year serious relationship. Tomorrow I was leaving for six months. This was not the time to start something. But in the light of day, I wondered if I’d made a mistake.

Everything about her intrigued me. From the way she looked to my reaction to her. The sound of her voice was melodic and soothing. The things she said were surprising and adorable. The way she smelled was intoxicating, which I assumed had to do with my pheromonal response to her. But it was more than that; it was who she was. Her character. She’d gone back to tip Lucas. She didn’t do it to impress me. The opposite, actually. She’d lied about what she was doing, so I wouldn’t know. She said she wouldn’t have been able to enjoy herself if she hadn’t made sure he’d gotten his tip.

Who did that? She was so different from anyone I’d ever met. Yet, I felt like I knew her. From the moment I’d seen her with her back to me, my soul recognized her.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand beside me. When I picked it up, I saw I had four missed calls and five text messages. One was from Gran asking if I checked in on Ashley yesterday.

Fuck . I completely forgot. That wasn’t like me. That seemed to be a running theme since the second I met Carrie. When I went back to the bar, and Carrie asked if I was going to ask her up to my room, I got tunnel vision. I totally forgot about the conversation I’d had with my grandmother. I quickly responded and told my grandmother that I would make sure to stop by this morning before checkout.

Three of the missed calls were from Serena. I listened to the voicemails. They all said basically the same thing. She wanted to speak before I left for Tokyo.

There was nothing left to say. She’d slept with someone else, and now I had, too. Not only had I been intimate with another woman, but I also had sex without protection. I still couldn’t believe I’d done that.

Maybe I was having a midlife crisis. Was thirty-six too young to have one? I wasn’t sure.

I sat up in bed and swung my feet over the side. Leaning forward, I rested my elbows on my thighs and ran my fingers through my hair as I tried to process what happened the night before. It felt like a dream. The entire encounter was surreal. I wasn’t sure what had come over me.

Part of me wondered if she was some sort of modern-day siren, a magical creature who cast a spell on me. I’d fallen under her trance and been completely powerless to her—captivated by her feminine wiles. It would make about as much sense as anything else would to explain my out-of-character behavior.

I inhaled deeply and could still smell Carrie's lingering, fresh berry scent in the air. It was barely there. Or maybe it was just a phantom aroma. One that was only in my imagination. I picked up the pillow she’d slept on and inhaled. When I did, I discovered the source of the scent. I was tempted to take the pillowcase off and put it in my suitcase to take it with me on my travels, but I stopped myself. I was behaving like a lovesick teenager. This was getting out of control. I put the pillow down, stood, and walked to the bathroom.

On my way, I scanned the room only to find there was no other trace anywhere. Part of me was searching for proof of her existence, evidence that she hadn’t been a figment of my imagination. Even though I didn’t discover any, I knew she was real. And thanks to my decision not to tell her my real name, there was a good chance I’d never see her again.

Which was probably for the best. Last night, as I lay awake listening to the sound of her breaths, holding her in my arms, I had the strongest urge to say three words. I love you . I didn’t say them, of course, but I’d wanted to, which was insane.

It had taken me years to say those words to Serena, and even then, I’d never claimed to be in love with her. It had been more an obligatory declaration than anything else, which Serena was aware of.

What I felt for Carrie could not be love, not the kind in the movies and books. I didn’t believe in that love. And even if I did, I didn’t know the woman. What I did know was that when I was around her, I wasn’t myself. I was reckless. I did things that were out of character. I was impetuous, impulsive, and barely in control. That was not me. That was not the man I was.

I quickly showered, got dressed, and was out the door. On my way down to the lobby, I stopped on the tenth floor and went to the executive suite. I checked the time. It was 8:30 a.m. I hoped it wasn’t too early for Ashley. If it weren’t for my grandmother’s insistence, I wouldn’t have stopped by, but I knew I would never hear the end of it if I didn’t. Plus, I was curious to meet the woman Gran had so much faith in despite having no qualifications. Although I wasn’t entirely sure it was faith as much as it was a chess move against Raquel.

When I reached the room, I lifted my hand and knocked. When there was no answer. I knocked again and waited. Still no answer.

My phone vibrated with another message. This time, it was Hannah letting me know my brother was in the office. I messaged her back that I was on my way in. He’d gotten discharged from the hospital yesterday, so I’d assumed he’d be in bed resting. I needed to speak to him before I left tomorrow, so this would save me from having to make a trip across town.

After one more knock, I figured that she must either be a heavy sleeper or she might be down at breakfast. On my way out of the hotel, I stopped by the front desk and planned on leaving a note for her at checkout.

“Hello, Mr. Wolfe.”

“Hi, Devon, I was wondering if Ms. Thompson checked out of the executive suite.”

He glanced down at the computer as he typed.

“Yes. She did. It looks like you just missed her. She checked out ten minutes ago.”

“Okay, thanks.”

I walked outside to find Lester waiting for me.

“Morning, Declan.”

“Morning.” I smiled as I got into the back seat.

I hadn’t even put on my seatbelt when my phone rang, and I saw it was my grandmother calling. I’d been planning to call her after I spoke to my brother, but I figured I might as well pick up now.

“I tried to stop by her?—"

“Your brother is at the office,” she cut me off.

“I know; I’m headed there now.”

“I’ve had two calls about his erratic behavior.”

He was just released from the hospital. How could things be this bad already?

“Okay.”

“You need to handle this.”

“I will.”

“Call me back.”

I hung up the phone and was happy about one thing. There was no way my grandmother would give me any pushback now about buying him out of the company.

“Everything okay?” Lester asked from the front seat.

“Derek is at the office. He’s on something.”

“Do you want me to come up?”

“I think I’ll be okay. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

Derek could be very combative if he thought he was being ganged up on. I was hoping to get him isolated in a room and then talk him into leaving and going home. I wasn’t sure what my game plan would be because that would depend on what he was on. If he was drunk, then he would be feeling sorry for himself, and I’d have to apologize for all the wrongs that had been done to him and play into his victimhood. If he was on coke, he’d be aggressive and paranoid, and I’d have to agree with him that there was a conspiracy, and everyone was out to get him. If he was on pills, he’d be combative and angry, and I would have to do my best to de-escalate the situation by remaining calm and seemingly complacent to his demands, making him feel and believe that he was in charge.

We pulled up to the building, and I walked in to find Jack speaking to several security guards. I assumed they were coming up with a game plan.

“Declan.”

“Jack.”

“We’re ready; just give us the word.”

I nodded and walked over to Hannah who was waiting for me at the elevators.

“How bad?”

“He’s on something.”

“What?”

We stepped onto the elevator, and when the doors closed, she continued, “His eyes are dilated. He’s not making sense. He’s manic. He’s aggressive.”

So, coke or pills. Or maybe both.

The ride up was silent. I was trying to get in the right headspace, so I didn’t lose it on him. When I stepped off the elevator, I heard Derek’s voice. He was yelling at someone.

I came around the corner and found him face to face with Leo Grant, our contracts attorney. “Derek, let’s just go in the conference room.”

“You can’t tell me what to do.” He pushed Leo, who easily stood his ground.

I walked up behind my brother and grabbed him by both his arms, hauling him backwards into the elevators. It happened so fast he didn’t have time to fight me. Before he knew what was going on, the doors were closing.

“What the fuck!?” He tried to pull his arm away from me. “Get off me!”

I held him tight. “You need to go home and sleep this off.”

“You’re not my dad! Stop trying to act like it.”

“I know I’m not your dad. We don’t have a dad because he wrapped his car around a pole and died because he was drunk and high, remember?”

For some reason, today, I just didn’t have the patience to placate him. He was thirty-four years old. I was so tired of cleaning up his messes, of making excuses for him, of smoothing things over, of pretending that he wasn’t the family fuckup.

When the doors opened onto the first floor, he jerked out of my hold as we walked off.

“Fuck you, Declan!” he screamed as he turned to face me.

“You need to leave, Derek.”

“I don’t have to go anywhere! Why doesn’t my card work?”

Right. So, this was about me canceling his cards.

““Your card doesn’t work because you no longer have a position here.”

“You can’t do that! I have just as much of a right to this business as you do! It’s my name on the building, too.”

“If you don’t leave, I’m going to call the police.”

““For what?!”

“For public intoxication. Drunk and disorderly. Disturbing the peace. You just assaulted an employee upstairs. He might want to press charges.”

“Assaulted, I barely touched him.”

“You have two choices. You can go to rehab now, and I won’t cut you off. Or if you walk out that door and don’t, I’m done, Derek. You’re on your own.”

“Fuck you, Declan!”

He turned to walk out but tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, hitting his head on the marble tile. When he tried to stand up, he fell again, and blood began to drip from the stitches on the head wound he’d sustained in the car accident. When he tried to get up again, he passed out cold.

Jack radioed for an ambulance, and I called my grandmother to let her know what had transpired and that Derek was going to be transported back to the hospital and from there hopefully to rehab. If not, I was done, and I hoped that she would be, too.