Page 74 of Finding You
Just having this conversation was making my blood pressure rise and my heart race. It was all coming back to me. The constant hopelessness. The fear and paranoia that everyone else was working harder and that I wasn’t smart enough and dedicated enough to make it.
The firm is designed that way—to keep everyone working constantly. There is no praise, there is no achievement, just constant pressure and constant paranoia. I remember in my first year going to my first review, being very proud of myself for exceeding our annual billable hours requirement. The firm set a standard, and I had exceeded it. I expected a pat on the back.
Instead the partner doing my review sat me down and said I needed to do more. When I responded that I had exceeded the requirement, he said that was a floor not a ceiling and if my colleagues were working much harder it didn’t really matter whether I exceeded it or not.
I was so confused. Why have a requirement if it was meaningless? What were we supposed to be working toward? Basically there was no safety. There was no feeling secure in your job. You had to stay hungry and keep your head on a swivel. No one was your friend.
Sitting here, wrapped in Declan’s arms miles away from the office tower and all the firm bullshit, I felt safe. I felt protected. But talking to Monica brought it all back. I felt my shoulders hunch and my neck tighten.
What happened to me wasn’t an isolated incident.
It happened at least one other time—one more woman who was screwed over with no recourse. And I knew in my bones there were others, and I was going to find them.
How could I have given that place my loyalty for so long? They tried to toss me out at the earliest convenience. Now that I was surrounded by people who actually cared about me, and I knew what true loyalty was, I felt gross. I wanted to run screaming into the freezing cold ocean just to get the stench of those greedy liars off me.
* * *
I loved it here. Declan’s bedroom was beautiful. Large windows faced the ocean. The room was bare except for the huge queen bed. He had soft sheets and fluffy pillows, and everything about it just drew me in.
Lying in this bed with this gorgeous man was the highlight of my life.
I spent years of my life barely sleeping. Waking up every few hours in a panic, heart racing, pulse pounding in fear that I missed something. Or fearing that while I was sleeping someone else was working and passing me by.
But here, in this bed, with this man, I slept. Really slept. And I found that I loved it. Getting all snuggled up and just letting go. It had been more than two months since I’d been fired, but I had finally started to sleep through the night again, waking up rested and positive to start the day.
It didn’t help that I usually woke up to a hot naked man who wanted to have his way with me—in bed, in the shower, on the couch, pretty much anywhere. We even made really good use of an ottoman in the cottage last week. I should probably get that steam cleaned before I move out.
Declan was insatiable. Every time I thought I was satisfied, he found a way to make me feel things I never thought possible.
We had spent the night watching TV, cuddling, and walking Ginger. It was perfect. Even more perfect when he gently stripped off my clothes and gave me multiple earth-shattering orgasms.
We were lying in bed, naked. He had lit the gas fireplace and the room was illuminated by the soft flames. He was spooning me, nuzzling my neck, and I felt boneless and content.
“I don’t want this to be fake anymore,” he gently whispered into my ear.
I turned around to face him. He was even more handsome with his wild-sex hair and bedroom eyes.
“Me neither,” I replied, kissing him deeply.
“Astrid, this is real for me. So real. And I want it to be real for you too.”
“It is.” I cupped his face. “It is so real.”
“I’m scared. I know it’s not manly to say that. But I am feeling things. Real things. And I don’t know what to do about it,” he admitted sheepishly.
“First of all, feelings are fucking sexy. Second, I get it. I am confused as hell. But I want to be with you, and right now that’s good enough for me.”
He smiled at me. “I can live with that.”
I settled in, snuggled into his broad chest. “Tell me something,” he said.
“Whatever you want,” I replied.
“Tell me a secret. Something real.”
I thought about it, letting myself settle deeper into his strong warmth.
“So, don’t tell anyone, but I secretly love kids.”
