Page 77 of See You Maybe

Olivia’s growl pulled him out of the fantasy, and she moved to stalk past him. Declan caught her hand, and he dipped his head close to her ear. He kept his voice low so only she would hear. “Maybe, I’m just not done with you yet.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Atlanta—Present Day

Olivia fought against the intense heat Declan’s words sent cascading through her. She resisted the urge to close her eyes and savor the way his warm breath, against the delicate skin of her ear, brought her body to life.

Calling on her anger, Olivia snatched her hand out of his and shoved at his immovable chest. “Don’t pretend this has anything to do with me. You wanted this company for your own reasons, and we both know it.”

“You have no idea what I want, or the lengths I’ll go to get it.” His eyes flicked to her mouth.

Her heart hammered as her body swayed toward him, betraying her. She had to get away from him before she did something really stupid—like beg him to kiss her.

“I think we both know no one gets everything they want.”

Raw need flared in his face before it disappeared just as swiftly.

Olivia didn’t understand the game he was playing, but if he wanted to play games she intended on winning. She lifted on her toes, bringing herself closer so that their lips were almost touching, and her breasts brushed against his lapel. Declan’s breath hitched, and she bit her lip to keep from smiling.

“I’m going to fight you for every single one of my employees,” she whispered.

Declan’s chest moved against her breasts with every heavy breath, sending a bolt of electricity straight to her core. His eyes darkened to amethyst and Olivia was thankful for the layers of clothing that prevented him from feeling her nipples harden. For an agonizing moment, they stood pressed together before he stepped back. Then, almost as if he couldn’t help himself, Declan tucked the hair that had fallen from her French twist behind her ear.

“I’m looking forward to it, Petal.”

Olivia thought she did a good job hiding her trembling legs as she walked back to her office. Her body thrummed with frustrated arousal, the ache between her legs almost unbearable. Her plan to torment Declan had burned her just as much as it had him.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it though as she made her way through the building. Every few feet, one or more concerned employees stopped her.

“My wife just had our baby.” Denise from accounting twisted her hands in front of her, her eyes anxious. “We need my health insurance.”

A few of the long-time employees had tears in their eyes.

“I’m too old to get a job somewhere else.”

“My wife’s salary alone won’t cover our mortgage.”

And the one that cut the deepest, “You are going to fix it, right, Olivia?”

She gave each one what she hoped was a reassuring smile, even though she had little hope at the moment. Over and over, Olivia repeated the same phrases, “I’m going to do my absolute best,” and “I’m sure the severance packages will be enough to cover any interim bills.”

She’d make sure of it. Olivia wasn’t sure how yet, but she wasn’t going to let Declan destroy this company.

By the time she closed the door to her office, she felt like she was suffocating.

What if I can’t fix it? What if because I agreed with the rest of the board to take the Bloom Communications offer, I doomed these families? What if…

The pressure in her chest grew painful, and nausea swirled in her stomach as her vision fuzzed. She pressed a damp palm hard against her chest, and tried to focus on her breath that was coming in short, fast bursts.

Not now, Olivia. Get it together. You don’t have time for this.

She dropped into the black velvet office chair, slipped her heels off, and curled her toes into the carpet.

Breathe. Her burning lungs fought her.

After a few minutes, when she no longer thought she would hyperventilate, Olivia forced her eyes open and began the coping exercise her therapist had taught her to control the panic attacks.

Consciously using each of her senses she forced herself to concentrate: soft carpet under her toes, the silky material rubbing over her arms, the sound of her breathing, the wind picking up out the window, voices outside her office, her cellphone gripped in her hand, the chip in her red nail polish, the poinsettia in the corner.