The Intern: Enemies To Lovers

63



Jenner stepped inside my office, his back now against the wall. “You want to talk about the elephant in the room?”

Hannah, goddamn it.

I was sure he was curious about why I hadn’t spoken to Dominick and why he hadn’t heard anything more about our relationship-if there even was one or if we’d fizzled out.

The reason he’d heard nothing was because I was dragging my fucking ass and because I didn’t think it was a good idea to discuss our relationship with Dominick while Hannah still worked for me.

And because I still hadn’t told Hannah the truth about the night at the bar.

I knew Jenner was just trying to be a good friend, but this wasn’t some random chick we were discussing. This was his cousin. And that made this conversation extra fucking messy.

“Nah, man. That’s a topic we can just glaze over for the moment.”

He turned his head, really staring me down. “Are you sure? You look … off.”

“You’re saying I don’t look good?” I glanced down at the light-gray suit I had on, the navy tie, the cuff links that had been hand-cut with my initials, piercing my perfectly starched shirt. “I think I look sharp as hell.”

“Asshole, I wasn’t talking about your fucking suit.”

I leaned over the top of my desk. “Then, what are you trying to say, Jenner?”

He shut my office door and took a seat in front of me. “Listen, in less than a week, you’re going to be sent an extremely detailed questionnaire that’s going to ask some invasive questions about Hannah’s internship. I need you to be honest. I need you to be unbiased. It’s an exit interview that’s going to HR. At the bottom of that document, there’s a question with two boxes. Would you hire the intern for a full-time position or not?”

Goddamn it.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“You’ve done nothing but bitch about Hannah since the moment she was assigned to you. You’ve begged Dominick how many times to relocate her? You’ve even talked shit to her fucking twin brother.” He crossed his shoe over his knee, his foot bouncing. “I know what your intentions were, but Dominick doesn’t. So, don’t you think it’s going to be a little odd when you’re discussing the questionnaire with him and he asks why you gave her such a stellar review?”Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

When the brothers had told me about this internship, they’d said nothing about a goddamn exit interview. Still, I knew better, and I should have assumed there would be one.

“I don’t have an issue with whatever is going down between you and Hannah-it’s your business, not mine. But I need to make sure things stay solid at work. Do you understand me?”

I didn’t know what the hell to say.

Up until a few weeks ago, I would have ripped her apart in that questionnaire because I was a bitter asshole who couldn’t fucking deal with his emotions.

I ground my teeth together. “I hear you.”

“Good.” He stood from the chair. “This is her dream, Declan. This is all she’s ever wanted to do.”

My eyes followed him to the door. “I know.”

With his hand on the knob, he turned to me and replied, “Then, don’t fuck this up.”

He opened the door and walked out, and my gaze instantly fell on Hannah.

Have I fucked this up?

Would it have been easier if I’d come clean at the very beginning, telling the guys what had happened, so I wouldn’t be in this situation?

And was the same true for Hannah and the alley?

Fuck.

My hands tore through my hair just as Hannah turned around and faced me. Within a few seconds of staring at me, she got up and came into my office, standing in the center. Not satisfied with that position, she walked closer, sitting in the same seat Jenner had just left.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” She was getting too good at reading me. “Is it Walter that’s bothering you? Is he becoming intolerable? I can see how that could happen.”

For so long, her presence had been the biggest cocktease. The only thing I could focus on while she moved around my office, bending over to file or leaning down to drop off coffee and food, had been where I wanted to stick my dick. But during those moments, I’d missed some of Hannah’s best qualities. The way she brought a sense of calm wherever she went. The way she cared about how I was feeling. The way she wanted to fix whatever was causing me to be angry.

This office was going to be an interesting place without her.

“No.” I mashed my lips together. “It’s not Walter.”

She lifted my coffee mug, seeing that it was empty, and set it against her lap. “I heard Jenner in the doorway, talking about him.”

“He was.”

I took a deep breath, focusing on my hands.

I couldn’t put this off any longer. I needed to be a fucking man about this. I needed to get the situation handled with Hannah and Dominick before things spiraled further out of control.

“Declan, what’s wrong?”

As I glanced up, there was concern all over her face. “What are you doing tonight?”

She shook her head back and forth. “Oaklyn’s out of town for the week. I didn’t plan on doing much. Baking, maybe some laundry, definitely some bar prep. Why?”

“How about I come to your place?”

“Is this a date? Or something else?” Her brows pushed together. “I’m not really getting the best vibe from you right now.”

There was no reason to hide my intentions. She wanted me to communicate more, and she wanted my honesty; she was about to get both.

“I’m coming over to talk.”

“Okay … about what?”

My computer dinged, and an email from Walter appeared on my screen. Even though I was working on several other cases, he wasn’t just my most needy client; he was also my highest paying. No matter what time or day he reached out, I made myself available.

Like now.

I clicked on the email, reading his list of questions, the demandingness of his tone prickling my nerves.

“Declan?”

I finished reviewing his list of needs, each one adding to this nagging feeling in my chest, one that made me gnaw my lip. “What?” I looked over at her, realizing I was snapping at the wrong person. “Jesus.”

“Don’t even tell me you’re going to turn into an asshole right now.”

God, that fucking mouth.

I wanted to remind her that I was still her boss.


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