Page 66 of Taming Tesla

“Hey, Jane,” I call across the room instead of using the ridiculous intercom system Declan had installed.

Jane, our shared assistant, looks up from her desk. Instead of yelling she gives me a look of mild exasperation and presses her finger to the intercom button on her desk. “Yes, Mr. Gilroy?”

Mr. Gilroy. I have to bite my tongue to keep from rolling my eyes. Indulging her, I jab my thumb against my intercom. “Has Declan been in this afternoon?”

Jane’s gaze bounces toward his empty desk before looking at me. “He was here, but Ms. Renfro stopped by and…” She didn’t have to say the rest. Jessica barged in like she owns the place and dragged Dec off by his balls.

Got it.

“Alright,” I say. “I’m about finished for the day—why don’t you knock off early?”

She scowls slightly. “But it’s not five o’clock yet.”

“That’s why it’s called knocking off early,” I tell her with a laugh. “Go on—I won’t tell Declan if you won’t.”

She’s gone five minutes later, barely throwing me more than a quick wave over her shoulder.

My phone beeps and I pick it up. It’s a text from Cari.

Cari: Dinner?

I look at my watch, surprised that it’s nearly five o’clock.

Me: Sure. I’ll cook.

Cari: Still allergic to mushrooms :)

Me: Duh.

Cari: LOL It needed to be said.

Me: Let me run home and grab a quick

shower and swing by the store. 6:30?

Cari: …

Cari: …

Cari: …

Those bubbling dots mean she’s writing something. Either a dissertation or she’s having a hard time figuring out what to say.

Cari: Just shower here.

I stare hard at my phone. Historically, showering around her does not end well. About a minute passes before my phone beeps again.

Cari: I know you have clothes here.

I saw them in one of the guest rooms.

Yeah, I keep clothes there. Sometimes, I don’t have time to stop at home between jobs, so I have to shower and change upstairs before I pull a shift at the bar. Sometimes I’m so beat after a Saturday night of slinging beer and breaking up fights I barely have the strength to drag myself up the stairs to crash on the couch for a few hours before I wake up, disoriented and alone. As soon as I can make the drive home without wrapping myself around a telephone pole, I leave.

Quit being a pussy. She’s offering you a place to shower, not a place to park your cock.

I let out a groan, instantly hard enough to cut glass. Thank god Declan hasn’t shown up yet. I’d never hear the end of it. He’s nearly as bad as his brother.

This is a bad idea.

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