Eluding Nirvana (The Dark Evoke Series Book 2) (16 page)

“Fair point,” I whispered
then motioned my glass in a toast. “Well, welcome aboard, Walker. I am sure they’ll find a good use for you.”

An elegant clink chimed as the neck of the glass bottle in his hand collided with my wine glass. “’
Aye, I’m sure they will, darlin’.”

As Walker and I stood talking for a little while at the bar, my body shuddered and bristled. In the back, a sharp stabbing sensation followed by worrisome warmth told me that Liam was casting those menacing, silver daggers in my direction.

By the time I’
d silently counted to eight, possessive arms came to snake around my narrow waist. I was drawn back against his immaculately dressed, hard body and a kiss on my temple was planted as he staked his claim on me. I’d never felt so out of sorts as I had done at that point. A ruse…that’s what it was. And I knew better than to argue with it and cause a scene.

“Kady
baby. I see you’ve met Walker, the newest of our construction team.” To anyone else his tone would’ve sounded polite and normal. To me, the way he ‘casually’ dropped the position into conversation was a way to demoralize the man. Like he was a lesser of a man because of the line of work he was in.

I knew that feeling. I knew that feeling well.

My head craned marginally as I twisted into Liam’s hold and felt the throbbing heat of his neck against my face. “Yes, I have,” I murmured then pulled my head free and gazed back at the Irishman who was casually resting his back against the wooden bar, his bottle of Bud grasped by the neck as he tipped it up to his lips. “And I think he will be an asset to the team,” I smiled.

His pale eyes glimmered and a shy smile tiptoed across his stubble-coated mouth when
his bottle was lowered from his lips. “You got a good woman there, Mr. DeLaney.” An unnerving sensation rapidly followed his complimented words. My stomach roiled with hushed concern of how Liam would react to such an approval from another man.

The gush of air
, which exited Liam’s nose in a derisive snort, bonded to the side of my face. “Yes,
I
do.” My middle was left bare when possessive hands fell away from my waist only to be replaced upon my upper arms. I was twisted to face him. “Baby, the wives are over there. I’m sure they’re all desperate to know exactly how much that dead animal on your back has cost me.” His cunning words were a subtle directive, one which would fall blindly to anyone in our company.

A tightlipped, dutiful grin spread across my lips. “Of course.”

“Nice to meet you, Kady,” the pleasant Irish lilt had momentarily halted my intention of turning away.

In Liam’s mistrustful and wary company, I chanced
a cautious glance at the Irishman and merely nodded. “You, too, Walker,” I replied, and despite being reluctant, made my way toward the opposite side of the room, to be mauled by the plus-ones.

Albeit
contrived, I maintained my level of politeness and sociability. Pleasant smiles, high-pitched giggles and intrigued arms were brushed along my body. Those women were vultures. You’d presume they’d never felt leather before, the way their fingertips swept over my arms and shoulders, and their cooing at the way the cut hugged my figure in a sensual although refined fashion, had bells ringing in my ears. All I wanted was to climb back under my rock and never come out.

Words of d
iaper changes, late night feeds and play dates, were blended into statements of vacations, new cars, designer clothing and someone called Marco who apparently, for a steep fee, can help you drop a minimum of seven pounds in a week. Their comments and topics of discussion seemed trivial in contrast with what contemplations were enjoying the carousel in my mind. Here they were, gushing over Marco and his wonder regime and drool-worthy, athletic body, while my thoughts consisted of: how not to make Liam angry with me, how not to fuck up, how to make things right for him and show him the respect he deserves without sticking my foot in it.

As oblivion sang out to me
and my mind wandered over the edge of alertness, the volume of the extravagant housewives of the architects of DeLaney Constructs was barely processed in my mind. That’s when I felt it.

While the mother hens clucked on about this and that, a
laser beam was shot across the room, commanding my attention as I hung my head and focused on the remnants of golden liquid swimming at the bottom of my wine glass. Only it didn’t make my body quake with fear, anxiety or dread.

Over the
length of the room, I risked a peek and lifted sad eyes up to be met with the Indian Ocean studying me. His body was somewhat angled, his right elbow rested on the edge of the bar, a dark glass bottle once again, grasped loosely by the neck. The gaze made me feel heated, timid. It felt intense. It felt forbidden.

How one simple mo
tion of his bottle being lifted in a toasting gesture could cause the bridge of my nose to sting and tears form in the corners of my eyes, I have no idea. But it did. When his pale lips tipped into a smile, I felt my heart lurch from my chest and a bead of sweat formed on the nape of my neck. It was too effusive, too unreserved, and the familiar bubble in my stomach and chest––the bubble which always made itself known when I could sense trouble on the horizon––taunted me.

The Irishman licked his lips
and offered a deliberate wink; I had to drop my head. I desperately had to focus on something else before Liam jumped the gun, and suspected the worst.

Fifteen minutes later, everyone had taken their place
s at the tables. Headwaiters rounded us placing deep, white china filled plates at everyone’s setting. Sitting next to Liam, I was caught unaware when he pushed himself out of his seat at the head of our table and tapped the surface of the glass with the edge of his fork. Until Liam opened his mouth, silence was governing the room.

“Good evening everyone,” he began. “I just want to m
ake a quick speech and then I’ll let you get to your meals. I was lucky enough to have two loving parents who taught me to chase a dream. Who taught me that to make a dream a reality, you must first believe that it can be, and transform it into one. Well I had a dream: a dream that my buildings would have a place in the skyline. As Antoine De Saint-Exupery once said, ‘A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral’.”

Awed by his words and how much he had achieved,
I smiled up at him.

He lifted his glass in a toast. “To DeLaney Constructs and the finalization of the coveted Williamson contract, another blip to place on the map.” Everyone followed suit, and as he lowered himself back into his seat with a rendition of ‘hear, hear’ rebounding around the room, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I took a stand.
Maybe I shouldn’t have had that second glass of wine after all.

“Kady,
what are you doing?” Dutch courage had me ignoring Liam’s menacing whisper. Encasing his shoulder with my hand, I offered a rewarding, ‘trust me’ grin with a small wrinkle of my nose.

“I’m sorry, there’s one little
extra thing I would like to add to that, Liam,” I said, an expectant silence governed the room anew as my focus remained fixated on the man to my left. “Firstly, I want to say that I am totally awed by your approach and by everything that you’ve achieved in such a short time. You’ve always believed in people, I can attest to that, and giving the opportunity to others and trusting them with your work, to make a dream come true…” I shook my head. “You’re an amazing boss, Liam DeLaney––”

“Get him to give us a raise then, Kady,” one of the construction workers called out, and
a round of applause and catcalls immediately followed.

After rolling my eyes at the dark-haired man
with the smart mouth, I lifted my glass in a toast and glanced over the table at Walker, who was sitting opposite me. “And I would like to formally welcome Walker to DeLaney Constructs.”

“Thank you, Kady,”
the Irishman mouthed across the table and as I lowered myself back into my seat, I set a warm, pleasant hand on Liam’s thigh beneath the table. With a world of wonderment in my eyes, I smiled at him, and as he smiled back, I knew that my words of admiration and applause had saved my ass from my earlier misdemeanor.

It was just after 11:30 p.m. when
all and sundry began to file out of The Hyperion and into their cars to call it a night. Before folding myself into the BMW, I called goodnight to everyone in the parking lot, then allowed the combining sounds of protesting leather of the seat, alongside my dress, to caress my ears as I twisted to recover my seatbelt and drew it across my body.

Sliding in beside me and pulling
out of the lot and onto the street, I watched the man at the side of me, closely. The passing streetlamps transformed the side of his studious profile into a rapid blending of oranges before being torn away by the nightly shadows. “Tonight went well,” I muttered, approvingly. When he failed to respond, I set my hand on his thigh and issued a supportive squeeze. “Are you okay, Liam? You’re being very quiet considering––”

“Considering what, Kady?” he barked, pulling his attention from the road ahead, to me. “Considering all my employees got a visual of Kady the Tart wit
h you in that ridiculous outfit? Or considering I had to sit through hours of you flirting with
my
employees and sticking your fucking nose into
my
business yet again?”

My jaw
dropped. I thought we were on the right track. I thought he had excused my mistake…I…

“Well?” he shouted
, his enraged hands slammed against the steering wheel. “Gone fucking mute have you, Kady? What fucking button have I got to push to get that reaction from you, so I can use it next time?”

Loosely flailing my head in disbelief,
I found myself unconsciously inching closer to the door at my right, placing as much space between myself and the demonic entity behind the wheel. “Liam, I wasn’t flirting,” I gasped, although spoke softly with great care and wariness weighing down my words of defense as my palm pressed against my chest. “I was being polite, just like I am to the people at the store, or Laurie or the people in the Doctor’s Office. I really wasn’t flirting.”

“She wasn’t flirting?” he
scoffed. “She can’t see the error of her fucking way even when it’s being pointed. The. Fuck. Out. To. Her.” He was screaming as he scathingly drew out his final words. He was Goddamn livid. My breathing suddenly hit DEFCON 1. I felt the lamb and mint I hadn’t long consumed crawl up my throat. My hands were shaking while the nails of my right hand found their way to the back of my left and scoured at the flesh as though attempting to strip away the harsh words and tone that I was having thrown at me.

Slamming on the breaks, I jolted forward; my hands parted and settled in my lap. “Get out.”

Knitting my eyebrows together I made a silent pledge for him to not to do anything rash…not again. “Liam, please––”

The headrest took a beating as he tossed his head back and screamed blue bloody murder. “Get the fuck out of the car!”

“Liam––”

His
hasty, heavy hand released my belt and then the door. Before I could register what happened, I was standing on the sidewalk with my purse under my arm, watching my boyfriend once again, speed off down the block, leaving me to make my own way back home in the light misting rain.

Three blocks I had walked in silence, swallowing back my sobs of anger, my sobs of regret.
I may not have had a coat, but I was thankful to some degree that each droplet was slowly trickling down the material of my outfit, and not being absorbed by it.

In a dream world, focusing on my own shitty evening, bright headlights shone beside me.
“Hey,” I heard someone call and with squinted eyes, I turned my focus to the black and silver pick-up slowly moving alongside me. “Kady?” the acquainted brogue caressed my name, the ‘D’ once again being passed over. “What in Jesus’ name are you doing out here in the rain?” he pulled to a stop, as did I. “Where’s Liam?”

Through the
shower, the empty street was scoured by my squinted gaze, the orange glow from the streetlamps creating mini spotlights on the asphalt, while steel shutters of several stores were covered in heavy graffiti. “We um…” I dithered. I couldn’t be truthful. My own words from that very afternoon rotated around my mind.
Maybe if I believed my lies, other would believe them, too.
But at that moment, the energy involved in maintaining a convincing lie, was nonexistent.

Walker told me to get into the car.
Shaking my head I told him I’d be fine, that I needed time to think, all the while considering the extent of Liam’s reaction, if he had knowledge that the employee he thought I was flirting with most of the night, was giving me a ride home.

“Where are you heading?”

The slight misting of rain was morphing into a steadily, increasing downpour. Right hand fisting into my hair, I called out over the rhythmic torrent, “Bricksdale.”

“Bricksdale? Sod that, darli
n’, that’s a thirty minute walk at the very least.” Leaning across the console, the passenger door swung open. “Get in the car,” he repeated.