“But—”
He doesn’t let me finish. “I refuse to give up when I’m this close to securing the deal, especially after I promised the board I would follow through on delivering Dreamland Tokyo.” He paces the width of his room. His large body makes me feel as if the walls are closing in around me.
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’m understanding you.”
“He finally gave me some concrete feedback about my proposal and would like to meet to discuss it further—”
“I’m not talking about the proposal!” I throw his clothes on the bed, wishing I could chuck them at his face instead.
Declan’s brows pull together. “You’re upset.”
“No, Declan. I’m disappointed.”
“You of all people should understand how important this is to me.”
I throw my arms in the air. “That’s exactly my problem. I understand your needs even at the expense of my own.”
I instantly want to take back the words, if only to erase the scary expression on Declan’s face.
“What do you mean by that?”
“I’ve spent three years of my life making sure you’re taken care of, even if it meant sacrificing my happiness to do so,” I blurt out.
So much for keeping yourself in check.
His lips flatten, turning the pink color white from the pressure of his grimace.
Abort mission. “Never mind—”
“Is that how you really feel?” he cuts me off.
It takes all my willpower to not break eye contact. “Yes.”
“Why?”
His question throws me off. Does he actually care about how I feel? He has never made it a point in the past to check in with me about my needs, and there have been plenty of opportunities. Like the Christmas I missed because he planned a business trip or the hundreds of plans I had to cancel last minute because of some Kane Company emergency.
Over the last three years, my life slowly disappeared until my identity became Mr. Kane’s assistant.
This is your chance to confess how unhappy you’ve become with your job. I open my mouth to speak my mind but something in his gaze stops me. The skin around his darkening eyes tightens.
His phone rings, cutting through the silence. The hand clutching onto it hesitates.
He doesn’t want to deal with your shitty mood right now when he has more important things he needs to handle.
I put on my best smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Forget it. I’m being extra grumpy from jet lag and waking up earlier than usual for our safari. It’s nothing a cup of coffee can’t fix.”
His phone stops chiming. “Listen—”
“It’s fine.”
“I didn’t expect—” The shrill ring interrupts whatever he was about to say.
“You better get that. Sounds important.” I nod my head and offer him a tense smile.
His mouth opens, but I don’t stick around. The last thing I hear before shutting his bedroom door behind me is his deep rumble of a voice barking an order at an innocent caller.
Declan, like the complete asshole boss he tends to be under most circumstances, sends me a recorded voice note requesting that I make a PowerPoint just in case Mr. Yakura wants a visual aid for his meeting.
The only visual aid I want is of my hands wrapped around Declan’s neck, stopping his airflow.
Okay. Turn it down about ten notches.
Once I rein my temper in, I get back to work. It takes me two hours to create a PowerPoint based on our combined messy notes. What would take a normal person an hour to compile takes me double because I have to triple-check each slide for errors. The last thing I want is for Declan to berate me for a silly typo or incorrect punctuation mark.
After I finish the slideshow, I send Declan a message sarcastically asking if he needed anything else from me. I should have expected it would backfire. Declan throws task after task my way, each more irritating than the last.
Check in with our Tokyo sponsors to make sure they are still interested.
Contact the head of marketing and have him send me an estimated expense report.
Schedule me a last-minute meeting with Rowan before Yakura jumps on the video call.
The more demands he places, the stronger my anger becomes. I’m supposed to have ten days of vacation time. After being denied three years’ worth of paid time off, I want my break.
I need it.
Maybe you want more than that.
My head drops into my hands as I let out a frustrated groan. While I appreciate my job and the many opportunities Declan has given me, I don’t know how much longer I can do this.
Better yet, I don’t want to do this.
I’m turning twenty-four this year and what do I have to say for myself? Most of my life revolves around Declan and making sure he has everything he needs to be successful. I even married the man so he achieves everything he dreamed of—all because I care about him way more than he could ever reciprocate. He gave me a chance when no one believed in me, and for that, I owe him.
My actions say more about me and less about him. I put my needs aside because I thought it would make me happy to help others. And while it feels great to see everyone else achieve their dreams, it leaves me with a gaping hole in my chest.
Nothing will change unless you do.
Maybe Cal was right. If I keep making excuses for myself, I will never find the right time to take the next big step in my life.
Yet you tried already and failed.
I sigh. Despite all the failures in my life, somehow not being hired for an entry-level HR position stings the most.
So what if you failed? You’re never going to accomplish anything worthwhile if you keep to your comfort zone.
But what about Declan? The voice that has had far too much say over my past decisions speaks up. And like always, I listen, pushing aside my thoughts as I get started on Declan’s next task.
17
DECLAN
There’s been something off about Iris ever since I told her we needed to cancel our safari for the day. I thought she would get over her mood by noon, but I was wrong. She only speaks to me through email, despite being a quick walk away from my bedroom, and she avoids all the common areas of the bungalow. The way she ignores me makes me far more frustrated than I would ever care to admit.
I consider checking in on her a few times but think better of it. Whenever she’s gotten irritated at work, I’ve found it best to leave her alone to sort out her feelings. She knows the stakes here, and she of all people knows how much this deal means to me. It would be ridiculous for her to think I would tell Yakura no after the struggle I went through to get him on the phone.
Our meeting time closes in, and Iris still hasn’t come to set up the computer. I grab my phone to call her, but it turns out that I don’t need to. She walks into the living room with her laptop tucked beneath her arm.
The ever-present tightness in my chest whenever she is around intensifies as I scan her from head to toe. Gone are her usual high heels and dresses, replaced by an all-black outfit that accentuates every dip and curve of her body.
I stand taller in her presence if only to make her notice me. Except she doesn’t as she busies herself with setting up the computer for our video call without sparing me a glance.