Page 2 of Stolen Sun

“Thank you, Julie,” I say dismissing her from camping out in the hallway as she stares at our newest client’s backside. She quickly closes the door when she realizes she’s been caught.

I look away from the closed door to make eye contact with the man who shattered my world when I was sixteen. Boyish features from the past seem to have all been replaced by chiseled edges. His arms and shoulders are huge; there’s no denying he still makes time for the gym. His sharp jawline is shaded by dark stubble whereas it used to be softened by dimples from the smile he always wore. The biggest change, though, is his eyes. They used to be carefree and innocent, but something darker stares back at me today.

He clears his throat and cocks an eyebrow at me for openly staring at him.

Quickly trying to recover, I extend my hand. “It's been a long time. How have you been?”

He takes a step toward me to shake my hand, enveloping me in his sweet, woodsy cologne. “It wasn’t that long ago, sunshine.”

Heat spreads across my face. I try to ignore the racing of my heart at his use ofthatnickname. I release my grip on his hand desperately needing to put some space between us, but he gives mine a harder squeeze before letting me go.

Clearing my throat and taking a deep breath, I try to get the meeting back on track. “Thank you for meeting with me today. Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”

“No, thanks.”

He settles into a chair looking around my office, stopping at the pictures on my desk. Most of them are Nate and me.

I take the chair opposite of his the way I always do with my clients. I try to picture anyone else in his place to get through this. Ironically, I used to imagine a moment like this where he would see exactly what he missed out on. In my imagination, I would be the one who’d play it cool. However, I feel exposed under his stare. I'm not at all as unaffected by him as I had hoped I’d be after all this time.

Buying time to get myself into business mode, I open my notebook to a clean sheet of paper and click my pen.

“So, Declan, tell me about your company,” I say as I follow his line of sight to a picture of Nate and me at a restaurant.

Instead of answering me, he looks at the picture for a few more seconds. When he directs his attention back to me, he simply studies me with an air of leisure. He’s sitting in my chair as though this is his office—leaned back and at ease with his legs spread open. His dark grey t-shirt pulled tight across his broad chest that rises and falls slowly with unbothered breaths. Confident and comfortable as though seeing me is a regular occurrence, just another clue that he knew exactly who he would be meeting with today.

He must read the discomfort on my face as he allows the silent stare-down to go on. An amused smile shows off both of his dimples as he rubs the stubble on his face. My stomach's somersault leaves a deep ache behind.

He clears his throat but keeps a hint of that mischievous smile. He nods toward the pictures while his darkeyes search mine. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” I acknowledge but decide not to give him any details beyond what he can see for himself around my office. I smile politely and wait for him to answer the question I’m fairly certain I asked.

He looks out the large window that is now adding too much heat to my office then back at me.

“Velocity Logistics is servicing companies statewide and is close to capacity as is. I’m one or two large accounts away from needing to expand, so my marketing needs are just that. I need to level up," He begins.

“So, it's a well-established logistics company that needs a facelift to attract national corporations.” I say as I take notes.

When I finish writing, I look up to let him know I’m ready for him to continue but find that he is studying me. Again. He doesn’t speak again, just holds my gaze until I look away.

Deciding we need a barrier to get out of this trance, I move to the chair behind my desk as the silence continues. I feel him watching me but keep my eyes trained on my notes.

He takes the hint and finally breaks the silence. “My letterhead is as old as the company itself. Creatively, you have freedom to do what needs to be done other than changing the name. I’m open to overhauling everything from the graphics and website to the sign in the parking lot.”

“A fresh start?” I clarify.

“That’s the idea.”

I can’t help but smile to myself as I look over my notes. I love a project like this. Trying to tweak someone else’s work feels like work. But this? This is a blank canvas. Clients that grant the freedom to start from scratch allow me to live out my artistic dreams.

“I’d like to see what you already have. Do you have a file your secretary could send me?”

“You’ll receive it today,” hesays without hesitation.

“Also, I’d like to visit the main office. Do you prefer an appointment?”

“I’ll have Claire set something up when she sends the file.”

“Perfect.” Hopefully Claire will also be my main point of contact after today. “Well, do you have any questions?”

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