Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion) (6 page)

BOOK: Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion)
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Stubbing out the cigarette, he contemplated what his next move would be. He had to prepare himself for eventually being in the company of Aria. As he returned more and more to his normal activities, he wanted to be able to socialize with the people who were his friends. Unless he found a way to reconcile his behavior toward her in an acceptable fashion, that would be impossible. As he was recovering, he expected that Aria would somehow re-enter his social circle. What he didn’t expect was for his heart to burst with this unexpected longing and desire for her. He had pushed her out of his physical reality, but after today, he knew it would now be an ultimate battle to restrain himself if he allowed her back into his world…

 

 

“Hi there, boss. I have a few messages for you. How was your meeting?”

His nonresponse indicated to Katherine that her friend, and superior, was having another of his
dark days
. She walked a very fine line. Aria was her friend, as was Declan, yet she retained professionalism at work and gave him the respect that he was due. She had come to recognize his moods when he had returned to work.

At times, the moods were due to physical pain, but more often than not, they seemed to be due to a persona he adopted since he and Aria were no longer together. He no longer had cheerful moods, and those he displayed were false and for the benefit of clients. Katherine knew the difference and knew when he was being disingenuous. It appeared that more often than not, when Declan was with clients, he was playing a role, putting on a façade. He wasn’t the same person he used to be, and it saddened her, but the business didn’t suffer for it at all.

The company was flourishing. Declan had thrown himself into his work. He was a driven man, arriving early and staying late. His personality was turned on and off like a light switch. The difference was frightening to Katherine. She was the one who truly saw him—well, her and his brother. Declan spoke mostly in grunts and barks to her, but when he picked up the phone or went into a meeting, he turned on the charm and behaved as he used to, when he was happy—when he was with Aria…

He didn’t respond to her question when he walked through the door, so she attempted to get his attention once more.

“Hey Declan…didn’t you hear me?”

“What?!” he answered sharply, catching her completely off-guard. Declan realized how harshly his response was by her shocked look.

Bewilderment showing in her face, she raised her hand with the paper messages and answered, “Calls…for you…while you were out.” She then handed the messages to him.

Taking them from her, he mumbled, “Thank you.” He then retreated to his office.

Katherine stared at the door once it was closed. Her intuition was telling her that something was off. This wasn’t the normal bad mood. He seemed somehow darker, edgier, and angrier. She couldn’t imagine what had gone wrong at the meeting.

Looking back at the appointment book to confirm the content, she was even more perplexed. The man he was meeting with was always pleasant, and it was only a meeting with regard to advertising space.

What could possibly have gone wrong to make him so angry?

 

 

Throwing his overcoat off, he walked to the credenza and placed both hands on the rich wood to brace himself. His head hung down, and with his eyes closed, he shook it back and forth as if he could shake the image of her from his mind, but it was indelibly etched.

As he raised his aching head, his eyes took in the beautiful view of the bay, and he was reminded that it was
she
that chose this space for him specifically for this particular pleasure. He couldn’t escape her, but as his eyes lowered, they focused on the bottle near his hand, sitting next to the crystal glasses. He snickered as he was reminded that they had also been a gift from her when The Studio had its grand opening.

Turning the top of the bottle, he poured himself a liberal portion of his good friend, Jameson, and as he took the liquid in his mouth, he allowed the mixture of its many flavors to mull there, drowning out, if even momentarily, the memories that plagued him of the sweetness of her kiss. As it made its way down, it wasn’t having the desired effect of distracting his thoughts from her, but rather made him think more of her.

Determined to ease some pain, he knocked back the remains of the glass with the thought that the alcohol would work more quickly to dull the memories once in his system. That, however, wasn’t to be, and after several glasses, the only purpose the whiskey had served was to dull his senses, allowing him to more fully embrace the bountiful recollections of the woman he knew could never be exorcised from his soul…

 

 

The telephone intercom interrupted his thoughts as Katherine announced the next meeting.

“Blake Matthews and Marisol Franzi are here for your 3:00,” she said cheerfully.

“Shit!”

Straightening in his chair, Declan came to the realization that though his eyes had closed for a few moments, his senses were still buzzing from the alcohol.

“I’ll be with them in a minute,” he told her. “See if they want something to drink.”

He surmised Katherine would buy him a few minutes to become presentable, and he pushed himself away from the desk. Returning the Jameson to the credenza, he made his way to the bathroom. Staring back at him in the mirror, Declan didn’t like what he saw. A hardened man with features that were no longer synonymous with youth and marketability, yet still bearing some semblance of the world’s definition of handsome.

Quickly throwing water on his face, he ran a brush through his hair and slapped cologne across his neck. A quick swish of mouthwash would hopefully suffice to eradicate the whiskey’s telltale aroma.

As he made his way to the office door, his body reminded him that the injury didn’t take kindly to falling asleep, half drunk in an office chair, and his leg muscles screamed silently at him in rebellion.

“Blake, Marisol, come on in,” he said as he held the door open.

Blake was taken off-guard a bit at the appearance of his friend, but Marisol appeared to notice nothing out of the ordinary and sauntered in as if this were normal, and she were at ease here.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” Declan said, forcing a smile.

Blake sat his large frame in one of the chairs across from Declan’s desk, while Marisol spread herself and her belongings out on the lush leather sofa.

Declan made his way back to his large office chair, but as he sat, pain registered on his face though he tried to hide it.

Not missing the unease register on his friend’s face, Blake addressed it, “How are you doing, Dec? I know summer at the beach is great, but how are you holding up in the winter?”

Declan almost let his guard down to exchange casual conversation, but he wasn’t drunk enough to forget his promise to himself that all relationships were now for gain, and he didn’t want anyone to see his true feelings.

“It’s fine, Blake. Winter’s as good as summer at the beach. How are you?” he answered.

Something wasn’t right. There was a disconnection in Declan that Blake detected. It was as if he were conducting a conversation with a complete stranger.

“I’m fine. Business is good,” Blake answered. We’ve gotten some great accounts, and the people you’ve sent are working out okay.”

“Good. So what brings you to the beach?” The discomfort was forcing Declan to get straight to the point to expedite the meeting. He wanted to conclude it ASAP.

This wasn’t the man Blake had gotten to know over the past ten years, but he’d go with the flow and this tone he was setting.

“I wanted to discuss the possibility of using part of your building as a satellite agency. Actually, it would be for me,” Blake revealed.

Declan wasn’t so buzzed that he didn’t understand the public relation and financial implications that a venture like this could mean for The Studio.

“What’s in it for me?” he asked.

Blake was taken off guard by the directness of his friend. No easy banter, no relaxed conversation—just to the point and direct.

“Well, a percentage or rent. We could discuss it,” Blake proposed.

Declan sat back in his chair and waited for him to continue.

Blake was suspicious of the change in him, but he continued.

“Right now, you’re scouting, and time’s passing between when you see potential talent, I decide if I can use them, and what campaigns I can use them on. My proposal is that I divide some of my time between New York and here so that it would cut down the time, and after all,
time is money
.”

Blake could see that he piqued Declan’s interest and pushed the right button when he started to smile.

“What would you need? In other words, what do I need to do for you to make it happen?”

“An office, use of Katherine to schedule appointments, and I’ll talk to Aimee about assisting me with scouting the talent.”

With that, Marisol’s head perked up. “What? Why Aimee? I’m here. I can pick who will be a good model and who won’t. I have much better taste than she does!”

Blake turned to address her and saw that she had made herself even more comfortable on the sofa, putting her legs up and leaning on the arm.

“Aimee would be assisting me with paperwork; photocopying, contact information, that sort of thing. If you want to do that for me, Marisol, then I’ll have you both.”

Marisol’s face took on a distasteful flavor. “As if I were your secretary? That’s what you meant? Absolutely not! You may have Aimee do that for you. She would be well suited for that type of work!”

Sliding her long legs down into her shoes, she stood and walked over to the beautiful windows. The sun was shining at just enough of an angle that she could see her reflection in them so she positioned herself accordingly. She dabbed her middle finger at the corner of her eye. Without blinking, she smiled at herself in the glass, always pleased with what she saw.

Feeling the warmth of the sunshine, she turned toward the two men.

“Declan, have that girl out there bring me a tea,” she said as she moved to the private restroom at the back of the office. She needed a mirror to inspect her reflection further…

BOOK: Selective/Memory: The "Depth of Emotion" Book 2 (The Depth of Emotion)
8.66Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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