All I can do now is learn from his mistakes. The lessons he taught me have been painful, but valuable. Don’t settle for less than you’re worth, and that mistakes can only steal your future if you let them.
Saying no is the right decision, it’s just not the easy one. For either of my dilemmas. I deserve more than Michael gave me, and I deserve more than Declan is offering.
Speak of the devil. “Hey, you’re on time today.” Declan strolls in the door, talking like I haven’t been all week. He grabs his obligatory Boston creme out of the donut box.
He hasn’t stopped taking them, but he definitely checks a little more closely before biting in. I should stop buying them, but that feels petty. Besides, it’s a funny memory, and I actually miss having him as a sparring partner. At least a little.
Instead of heading into his office without a word like he usually does, Declan sits himself down on my desk, taking his sweet time to finish his donut before he says anything. If there’s anything he’s an expert at, it’s being annoying.
I suppose I can’t just email him the hell off my desk. “Can I help you?”
He grins, huge. “So, you got your costume ready for Friday?” As if we never argued.
“Costume?”
“Yeah. For the summer party. Best costume gets some fancy weekend getaway deal. I’m trying to decide between a werewolf and a biker. I’ve already got the tattoos, but I don’t know, they both seem sort of overdone. You know?” He grins, as if he’s already imagining himself winning first prize. “Oh wait! I know. I’ll go as Greg, and you go as Marcia! Hah! It would be hilarious.”
Yeah.... not a chance.
This sounds too much like a trap. “You’re not tricking me this time. Nice try, though.”
“What? You think I’m trying to get you again?” He gives me a look of outraged innocence, hands out and his eyes big and guileless. God, those eyes.
I tear myself away. “Yeah, I do. Show me proof and maybe I’ll believe you.”
“Alright, hold on.” He walks out of the office, and I watch him through my window as he stops at the bulletin board near the reception and pulls something off before coming back.
Slapping a piece of paper down at my desk, he looks at me with a satisfied grin. “Here. Read this. Right from the announcement board.”
2015 SUMMER PARTY
FRIDAY, JULY 17TH
PRIZE FOR BEST COSTUME!
JUDGING DURING MORNING ASSEMBLY
CAFETERIA AT 9 AM
“See?” he gloats. “So what do you think? If you don’t want to be my Brady, I bet you’d look hot in a belly dancer outfit.”
“I thought the party wasn’t until the afternoon. I think you’re faking.” It’s hard to trust anything coming out of his mouth.
He cocks his head. “Haven’t you ever worked anywhere on Halloween? We work half the day, but it’s ‘work,’ if you know what I mean.” He makes air quotes. “No customer meetings are scheduled, everyone comes in with their costumes on, and it gets the office all festive from the get-go. Then we get down in the cafeteria for the rest of the day. And out drinking afterwards.”
It actually sounds kind of fun, and it’s nice to be joking around with him again. Against my better judgment I give him a little smile. “I’ll think about it.”
“Nice.” He laughs. “Just don’t outshine me, you know? I hate to lose.”
God, I’d love to get the chance to one-up him in something, but I still don’t completely believe this is real. On my way out to lunch, I stop to talk to Carl.
“So... for Friday. Do you know what you’re wearing?” I try to act casual. Just the new girl making small talk.
“Did Declan warn you?” Carl laughs and slaps his desk in amusement. “It took me weeks to find something perfect, but trust me, you’ll die when you see me. This chance only comes around once a year. No way I’m wasting it.”
My head had been full of visions of ending up like Carrie at the prom, except in a cafeteria and with spicy mayo all over my head. Carl’s enthusiasm about dressing up for the party helps calm my nerves.
“Oh yeah, absolutely. I can’t wait.” Now I just have to figure out what the heck to wear on such short notice. I don’t really care if I win, but it would be nice to surprise Declan.
Claire
“Hey, sweet pea. Am I calling at a bad time?” Michael’s voice oozes out of the phone.
“Yeah, kind of.” Any time he calls is a bad time, but I’m already running late, so this is worse than usual. “What do you want?”
“It’s Friday, remember? I’m calling to see if you’ve changed your mind. Last chance.”