Page 19 of Gray Area

No excuses, Vivian, I remind myself.

I listen to a couple of people speak and the back-and-forth debate, getting the gist of the discussion. When another question is posed, I jump right in, forcing myself to get my head back in the game. No excuses, I repeat again to myself. I can’t let some guy, no matter how handsome, get in my head and distract me from my goals.

An hour later our discussion has generated lots of opinions. I am heatedly debating with an older woman about whether doing the right thing is better for all ethical purposes for a business, which is what I believe, while she is saying that sometimes the wrong thing needs to be done for the greater good.

“Well, I do think this is the impasse that many businesses find themselves in just as you two women are finding it at this time,” Professor Edwards interjects. “And so let us end it there for tonight, and as promised, please get together with your group to review project information.”

I sit still and watch as everyone moves into groups, until it is just Declan and me sitting in the now defunct circle. I turn tohim, and his gray-blue eyes never leave mine as he stands and strides over to me, turning the desk next to mine around to face me.

“Hello, Vivian,” Declan says, his deep rumbling voice sending shivers through me.

“Hello,” I reply, reaching down and opening my backpack. I have to push several binders and an expandable file folder aside to retrieve my notebook that holds my research.

“Your backpack is pretty full,” Declan comments.

I glance quickly to see him peering down at my bag. “Yes,” I acknowledge, pulling my bag out of his view and zipping it closed. “Do you have your research?”

Declan nods, and I wait for him to produce something, even a folded piece of paper from his pocket, from behind his ear, or up his sleeve. Anywhere really.

But nothing. He just sits there looking at me. “Where is your stuff?” I ask as calmly as I can. This is how I learned to approach things. Calmly. When you get too fired up, emotions get involved that have no business there.

“I didn’t write it down,” he answers.

“Okay,” I say through my clenched teeth, realizing that I am most likely going to have to shoulder this project on my own. I open my notebook to the notes I made in my own research. “Well, there were a few things that stood out to me about the pros of nepotism. It’s useful to build a legacy, it has loyalty associated with it, and there is generally a lower turnover rate.”

When I finish looking over my sheet, I look up expectantly, ready for Declan’s input, but he’s just looking at me, his expression fixed. He almost looks bored.

“And the cons?” I finally say after a few beats of silence.

“Well, in an article by Baker in theJournal of Better Business Today,he pointed out cronyism as a large battle with nepotism. This can have a multiplied effect of damage on the companyas other workers don’t see the need to have loyalty or work to their fullest potential because they realize that they will never be promoted to higher ranks. It can lead to promotional incompetencies within the organization—which is pointed out by Yeoung inBusiness Today—if people are promoted based on relation as opposed to ability. This can fracture the company infrastructure, as well as undermine any growth within the company.”

I blink at Declan.

He tilts his head. “You look surprised.”

“I, well, when you didn’t have it written down, I just…well, I assumed that you hadn’t done the work,” I admit.

“Well, I did,” he replies flatly.

I clear my throat, embarrassed at my assumptions. “Would you be able to get me the sources so I can get them down when I write the paper?”

Declan furrows his brow. “When you write the paper?” he asks, his voice a little quiet, but the deep rumbling still there. “It’s a group paper,” he reminds me.

“Yeah, but—”

“That means we write it together.”

“I just—”

“I wouldn’t expect you to take that on alone,” he informs me, his eyes boring into mine.

I swallow as I try to stop myself from reacting to his gaze and his tone. And the fact that he is insisting on doing his part for our project. I find it all, well, hot. “Okay,” I say, unable to come up with anything else.

“But I’ll email my sources to you,” he tells me.

“Thank you,” I say, trying to sound like a strong woman and not the hormonally charged woman I am. I sit up a little taller in my seat, trying to get myself back in charge of my emotions. “Ifeel like there are more cons to nepotism than pros,” I remark, trying to redirect us back to our topic.

“I think there is potential for there to be more cons, but if handled in a more realistic fashion, such as putting the right people in the appropriate position, it could allow more pros.”

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