Page 8 of Hooked on Dallas
Once at the safety of my desk, I exhale through my nose, trying to release the tension gathering between my shoulders. That man is insufferable. But I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply his barbs cut.
I call Sandra back and relay the message, then busy myself with menial tasks as I wait for her arrival. There has to be a chink in Mr. De La Cruz’s armor; I just need to keep looking.
When Sandra steps out of the elevator, I hurry to meet her. “Here are those files for Mr. De La Cruz,” she says, passing me a stack of folders a foot high. “Tread carefully, Laura. I know how he can be.”
“Believe me, I’m well aware.” I offer her a wry smile. “But I appreciate the warning all the same.”
Sandra gives my arm a quick squeeze. “You’ve got this. If anyone can bring him to heel, it’s you.”
“I wish I shared your confidence.” I balance the teetering pile of files against my hip. “But I do have one advantage.”
“Oh?”
“Stubbornness.” I grin at her. “And Mr. De La Cruz does not know who he’s up against.”
I return to my desk and dive into the stack of files, searching for anything that might give me insight into the enigmatic Mr. De La Cruz. But aside from a few scribbled notes in the margins, there is little personal information to be found.
When he emerges from his office a few hours later, I steel myself for another barrage of insults. But to my surprise, he grunts and waves me into his office.
I follow him in, clutching my notebook and pen at the ready. “Yes, Mr. De La Cruz?”
He is staring out the window, hands clasp behind his back. “I’m heading out for the evening. I trust you can handle any urgent matters until tomorrow?”
“Of course.” I blink, nonplussed by his abrupt change in demeanor. “Enjoy your evening.”
For a moment, he seems poised to snap at me again. But then he sighs, shoulders slumping forward. “Thank you, Miss Stevens. I will do my best.”
Without another word, he gathers his briefcase and coat and leaves the office. I sink into one chair opposite his desk, stunned into silence. So there is a human being underneath that prickly exterior, after all.
5
Laura
At work the next day, he seems different. Something is going on and he isn’t the best at hiding it. Barking orders, getting angry with others over nothing… what is his problem?
The piercing ring of the telephone shatters my concentration and I wince, glancing over at Mr. De La Cruz. His jaw is clenched as he barks into the receiver, one hand clutching at the papers on his desk.
I study him through my lashes, taking in the furrow between his brows and the tension radiating from his broad shoulders. There is something almost predatory about the way he prowls around the office, all coiled energy and restrained aggression. What will it take to crack that impenetrable facade of his?
“This is unacceptable!” Mr. De La Cruz slams the phone down, startling me from my thoughts. I jerk back, eyes widening at the fury etched into his handsome features. My heart lurches into my throat.
He rakes a hand through his hair, mussing the dark strands. I bite my lip, fighting the ridiculous urge to smooth them back into place. Get a grip, Laura! This is your boss, not some heartthrob.
Mr. De La Cruz pins me with a glare, chest heaving. “Did you finish reviewing the Thompson briefs?”
I swallow hard, scrambling to compose myself. “Y-yes, sir. I left them on your desk with my notes and recommendations.”
For a moment he just stares at me, dark eyes inscrutable. Then he sighs and the fight seems to drain from his body. He slumps into his chair, all the bluster and bravado fading away to reveal a glimpse of the man beneath.
“I’m sorry you had to see that, Ms. Stevens,” he says.
My lips curve into a wry smile. “No need to apologize, sir. I’m familiar with difficult clients.” After all, I had plenty of experience dealing with the most difficult client of all.
“Even so.” A ghost of a smile flickers across his face and my traitorous heart skips a beat. “It’s unprofessional.”
“With all due respect, you’re only human.” I shrug, aiming for nonchalance. “We all have our moments.”
For a long moment, he gazes at me with an unreadable expression. I fidget under the weight of his stare, wondering if I overstepped. Then he huffs out a soft laugh and shakes his head.
