Page 3 of Gray Area

Chapter 1

10 YEARS EARLIER

DECLAN

Imake my way to the back of the classroom, making zero eye contact with anyone in the room. I am not here to make friends; I am purely here to learn. I have found in the last three years of taking business courses at the community college that a lot of people treat the classes more like social hour than a chance to learn. I am the opposite of that. Social hour is never on my agenda.

This is the first night of my latest class: Ethics in Business. I am creeping closer and closer to an associate’s degree in business. It is the first of many goals I have put in front ofmyself. The end goal is to turn my family business, currently consisting of bars, pubs, rental property, and a few, well, not so legal things, into a larger business empire. My father has started paving the way, but I am determined to make it everything he has dreamed of. Yes, we have a comfortable life. All the bills are paid and we are respected in our business circle. But I know the Falco name is meant for more. My family deserves it, my father especially , having worked his entire life to build the Falco name into something from nothing.

So here I am, twenty-six years old and taking classes at night to try and get more information, more knowledge to move forward. This semester I have decided to take just one class. My dad has needed me more, been giving me more responsibility, teaching me more. So I know I won’t be able to handle the usual two or three classes I have been carrying for the last three years.

I settle myself into a seat in the back row, leaving my hood of my sweatshirt up. In my periphery I watch as the other class participants check me out, some more obvious than others. The woman to my right scoots away from me in her seat, leaning to her own right, and holds her purse tighter. Another woman in front of me looks at me with obvious bad boy lust and licks her lip as she full-on checks me out. Some of the men sit up a little straighter, while others slump down a little lower.

I am used to all of it.

I am tall, broad-shouldered, and daunting to most people at six-foot-four. And my face is as inviting as the flames of hell. My mother always told me I was born looking like I was ready to fight. Outside of my toddler years, all the pictures I have seen of me have the same seriously angry expression on my face. I must admit, I am an intimidating specimen and have always been treated as such. When someone is treated that way in nearly every experience in their life, they embrace it. And I have embraced being intimidating like a duck to water.

So I sit in the back of the classroom, looking straight ahead, with my hood up, like the thug everyone around me perceives me to be. It is easier this way, easier to just feed into the perception.

But then I notice one woman who isn’t reacting at all.

She is in the front row and to my left. Unlike everyone else, she didn’t even look when I entered the room, and has not given me any notice since. While everyone else keeps sneaking glances my way, she sits at attention, her notebook open and pen poised. But what hypnotizes me the most is her hair. It is shiny and black and smoothly tucked into a ponytail.

When the instructor walks in seconds later I’m startled, having focused so intensely on the mystery woman’s hair, how it shines, how thick it seems. How badly I want to run my fingers through it.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to BUS 211, Business Ethics,” the instructor, an older man, says as he drops his things to the desk. “My name is Professor Edwards, and I’ll be guiding you through the sometimes obvious and sometimes more tedious subject that is ethics and business.

“Now as with every new class my first task is to take attendance, so just give me a ‘here’ and we can get on with this show quickly.” I keep my eyes trained on the front as he goes through his list, giving a deep, “here,” when he calls my name, attracting attention again but still nothing from the girl in front.

“And last but not least, Vivian Santos.” The black-haired girl raises her hand a little and the professor smiles and gives her a nod. “Okay, everyone, now that we have that out of the way, I’m going to pass out the syllabus and review what you all can expect this semester.”

As with most first night classes, it is abbreviated, and the professor dismisses us within an hour.

I remain seated as everyone around me gathers their belongings and makes their way out of the classroom. I am waiting to see the woman in the front row move. I am not sure why, but I am feeling a pull to this woman who I haven’t even seen. I want to see what she looks like. She has stayed stock-still the entire class. I wasn’t ever able to get a look at her face, not even her profile. I’d focused heavily on the back of her head, willing her to move the entire class.

I watch as she shifts and gets ready to move, and abruptly my view is blocked. The woman who has been eye fucking me from the second I walked in is now standing in front of me, batting her fake eyelashes at me.

I glare at her, raising one eyebrow in question.

“Declan, is it?” she asks. Her voice sounds casual, flirty, but she isn’t fooling me. I see her pulse at the base of her neck throbbing, and her fingers shake as she fiddles with the buttons on her jacket. She is nervous. She came over to see if she could cross off bad boy fuck on her bucket list.

Any other time I might give her what she is asking for, but tonight it is a no for two reasons. First, I take classes seriously, and I don’t mix business with pleasure. And second, because she has pissed me off by blocking my view. I lean back to show my indifference and look around to see the girl in the front row has left. I rage internally at the disappointment I feel for not having seen her face. I know it’s ridiculous, but I look forward to so few things, and now I am deprived.

I set my eyes back on the seat of the woman I missed. “I’m not interested,” I say. When she doesn’t move, I connect my eyes with her. “You can go.”

Her mouth falls open and her face turns red before she turns to leave, bumping a desk on her way out. She is pretty and clearly confident. She probably doesn’t hear no a lot, and I definitely dented her ego. But I don’t give a fuck. My chance to finally seethe face that belongs to the hair that has hypnotized me all night is gone now, and it is her fault.

I take some solace that it won’t be my last opportunity to find out what the mystery woman looks like since we have class together again this week. I am not sure what it is, but I feel a pull to the black-haired woman. Maybe I know her, or I’ve met her before. I need to see if I recognize her. There has to be a reasonable explanation for this weird draw I have to her. I just have to be patient. It isn’t always my strong suit, but sometimes patience makes the reward all the sweeter.

Chapter 2

VIVIAN

Iam a walking zombie as I make my way to the bus stop after class. The bus is pulling up just as I arrive at the stop, and I feel such immense gratitude for the timing I want to cry. I climb aboard and sit in the first empty seat I come to, resisting the urge to rest my head against the window. I’ve fallen into that trap before when I am exhausted like this, and it resulted in me missing my stop. Instead I sit completely upright while waiting for the bus to leave, and when I feel my eyes wanting to stay shut, I pinch my inner thigh. I’d had to do the same thing in class all night. Thank God it was a short lecture.

I am still mad at myself for mixing up the start date and not adjusting my work schedule before the class started. I was positive that it started on Thursday and not Tuesday. ThankGod my roommate, Bailey, set me straight when I got home or I would have missed tonight’s class.

I hate messing up. I strive to make sure everything is just right, and that I am organized, but I have been super busy lately. I shake my head to derail my thinking. “No excuses, Viv,” I murmur to myself. That is my mantra, and I remind myself of it as I pinch my inner thigh hard again. It is sore, and I know I am going to have bruises, but I need to stay awake so I can get home and put myself and this day to bed.

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