Page 13 of Faking It With The SEALs

Five hours later, I ride the elevator to the top floor. I’m tired and dirty from looking into ceilings to check wiring and other issues I found while inspecting the cameras and their system. I have pages of notes in my hand, and I know Young will want to see this stuff sooner rather than later. I will write it all up correctly tonight and email it to him in a day or two.

The doors open, and the first thing I see is Chelsea sitting behind a large reception-style desk. There are papers stacked all over the place in obviously organised chaos, and she’s typing away on the keyboard in what I can only describe as aggressive determination. Her nails' sound as they strike the keys tells me she is as quick at typing as I am, which is fast; I’m almost impressed. Not that I would let her know that.

She looks up from the screen and greets me with a friendly smile.

“Mr Young knows you are on your way. He is finishing a meeting, and then he will see you.” She stands from her chair and walks over to a coffee machine.

“Would you like a tea or coffee while you wait?” she asks with her back to me.

“Coffee, please. Black, no sugar.” While waiting, I sit by the door and unlock my tablet to look through my findings.

“Did you have any issues gaining access to anywhere?” Chelsea asks whilst she makes my drink.

“No, all was fine,” I answer, not looking up from the screen. My phone pings in my pocket, and I pull it out, knowing it will be a message from Drew or Calvin.

Calvin: I got your message. It doesn’t sound good. Want me to be there when you tell Young?

Logan: Nah, I’ve got it.

Calvin: Have you had a chat with Chelsea yet?

I’ve been waiting for him to message me all day about her. I’m surprised neither of them has found a reason to come in so they could see her. Do I believe they aren’t eager to spend time with her for their own selfish reasons? Not in the slightest. There is a reason they have both been staring at her profile constantly and are looking for any reason to spend time with her. It’s pathetic, and I dread the arguments it will cause when they finally accept they are both falling for the same woman.

Logan: With her now, give me a chance.

Calvin: Don’t bottle it. You know we need her.

No, you need her, there’s a difference. I don’t bother replying. Instead, I lock my phone and drop it into my laptop case at my feet, partially hoping it will break, and then he has no way of contacting me until I get home.

“Here you go.”

I look up to see Chelsea smiling at me as she holds out a mug of coffee. I thank her and take it from her. She turns to walk back to her desk, and I know I need to say something to keep her talking.

“So, I figured out where I know you from,” I say in a tone that makes me cringe. I hate sounding anything but confident, but right now, I sound like a nervous teenager. I hate small talk, especially when it's of no real benefit to me.

Chelsea turns to look at me as she sits back in her chair. She smiles nervously, and I know she’s also worked it out.

“Yeah, me too. Small world.” She starts to chew on her thumbnail, instantly giving away her tell. She’s nervous and probably realises that she has matched with the three of us. She tries to come off as confident, but when faced with the possibility that the three of us have discussed our Tinder accounts and matches, we might realise what’s happened. If only she knew the truth.

“So, I was going to message tonight and see if you fancied a drink one night this week?” I ask, trying to ignore my nerves. Not because I want her to say yes; it doesn’t bother me either way; I’m more concerned about what she thinks she will get from me. I am not the flowers and chocolates type of guy, and I’m certainly not looking for a relationship.

“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea,” she starts, continuing to chew on her nail.

“Why not? Because you have matched with my business partners, too?”

Her head snaps up as she stares at me. I shrug my shoulders as I try to hide that I didn’t mean to say it quite like that.

“You all know?”

I nod, trying to look neutral.

“Yeah, um, sorry about that.” Fuck, the guys are going to kill me.

“So, what is it? You are all going to see who can seal the deal first?” She snaps, standing with her hands on her hips.

“What? Fuck no!” I say a little louder than I meant to. We both look to the door of Young's office and wait to see if they heard. Luckily, no one comes out, so I stand and move closer to her desk so we can talk and keep the noise down.

“Look, we might be arseholes to each other, but we are not to others that don’t deserve it. We all matched with you for a reason. We all have things in common and liked what we saw; you can’t say you didn’t, as you knew who the other two were when you liked their profile, but you didn’t know me.” I run my fingers through my hair to calm my racing mind. This is why I don’t talk to people; I have no communication skills except when I’m in command. I’m great at giving orders, but shit when it comes to speaking to others who aren’t under my command or when I have to consider their emotions. That’s why the SEALs worked for me; you have to leave all emotions at the door. Out on the field, they just distract you and get you and those who have your back killed.

---