Page 65 of Taking A Chance

It’s exciting. And if next week goes well, I’ll need to look into bringing on an additional team member. It’s the kind of growth I’ve been hoping would continue.

I check my phone again. I’ve texted Declan three times today, and no response.Strange.He always answers. Even if it’s a little delayed because he’s painting, he always answers eventually.He’s probably just busy packing, finalizing things,I remind myself.

I refocus my attention on the color samples in Sara’s hand in front of me. She needs me to pick a scheme for another client’s campaign.

“You know what?” I say. “I trust you. You give it a run and we’ll see how you do.” I pat her on the shoulder, confident in her abilities. At some point, I have to start passing decisions down. Otherwise what’s the point of having employees?

“Really?” she chirps, eager at the chance to make more decisions.

Hell, she’s the point person on this campaign, she should be making most of the decisions and only roping me in when she’s stuck. Of course, I get the final say, but we’re not there yet.

Forty-five minutes later, I’m finally walking out the door. Declan still hasn’t texted me back, but no matter. I’ll see him in a few minutes.

“Have fun,” the ladies yell to me from their desks.

I feel bad leaving them when we’re so busy, but they all insisted I deserve the break. I can’t even remember the last time I took any sort of vacation. Last year, I got the flu and couldn’t go in all week and it drove me insane. I kept checking my work emails until Claire came and took my laptop. She collected it while wearing a mask and gloves, wrapping it in plastic and vowing to disinfect it and return it when I was back to a healthy state. God bless her. I slept for five days.

I make a quick stop on my way home, picking up this pink silk nightgown I’ve seen in a window every day on my walk. It’s short, falling well above the knees, with lace edges and thin straps. The back dips all the way down, showing off your whole spine. I think it’s a perfect surprise for the cabin.

I can’t wait to see the look on Declan’s face when I wear it.

* * *

I makeeasy work of packing, having snuck into my apartment as quietly as I could. I didn’t want Declan to know I got off early, in hopes of surprising him when I knock on his door, completely ready to go and earlier than he expects.

I take one last look around my bedroom, stuffing my charger cords into the side of my bag. After peering down at my packed clothes one more time, I’m fairly certain I got everything I need. Locking the door to my apartment, I turn to see Declan’s door opening and a smile spreads over my face for a split second before falling.

Because Declan isn’t the one walking out of his door.

Natasha steps out into the hallway, covering her bare shoulders with her coat, a shirt in hand. Declan steps out behind her a second later, immediately registering my presence.

Acting as if she doesn’t see me at all, Natasha turns and plants a kiss on Declan’s cheek, thanking him for the afternoon. She steps past me, excusing herself as she edges around my duffel bag next to my feet.

Declan stands in his doorway, his hands inside his pockets. “I can explain,” he says.

“Is this what you do all day while I’m at work?” I say.

“What?” he asks, his brows furrowing.

“Pretending you’re having trouble painting and having Natasha over? Of all people?” I snap.

“This is the first time she’s ever been over,” he says.

“Is this why you won’t let me see any of your new work? Is it of her?” I ask, my voice at a decibel I don’t like.

“No.” He sighs.

“I thought you didn’t like her?” I say. “Or is that what all men say? Do they just lie?”

“Cora,” he says. His voice is calm, which only pisses me off even more. “Ryan sent her here for the painting she wanted. I didn’t know.”

“I wish I could believe you,” I snap. “But maybe this whole thing has been a lie. Maybe you do just sleep with all the women you paint.”

“Are you serious right now?” he says. “We’re back to this? Why is it so easy for you to think I’m a piece of shit? Has nothing I’ve done these past weeks made you see? You said you trusted me. You said you didn’t hate me anymore. Clearly those were all lies.”

I turn back to my door, putting my back to him and then slamming my key in the lock. “This was a mistake. I knew this was a mistake.”

“Fine,” he blurts. “Go ahead. Run away. It’s easier for you to do that then put your trust in someone. I can see that now.”

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