Page 18 of Boss of Attraction

I chuckled while internally flattered by his compliment. At least, I thought it was a compliment. Declan often said things that were hard to decipher. Sometimes, it just sounded like friendly banter and other times, I detected a hint of flirtation in his words. As someone who took pride in being able to read people, I was intrigued by the fact I couldn’t quite figure him out.

Before I could respond to his comment, the door swung open, and Camille walked in. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Declan’s pale complexion. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

“Just got a little dizzy for a minute, but I’m fine now, thanks to my hero over there.” He pointed at me as I returned to my seat and threw a wink in my direction when Camille turned toward me.

Maybe he was flirting.

9

DECLAN

The last twodays were hell.

I knew the bar exam was going to be intense, but I was mentally exhausted, having finished almost five hours of testing on day one, and the 200-question exam and the ten essay questions the next day.

Fallon was still taking the exam, so I left the room, grabbed my bag from the storage area, and sent him a text:

Text me when you’re done and let’s meet for a drink

I walked over to the Secret Service agent who was waiting for Fallon. “I’m going to head over to Flanagan’s if Fallon wants to meet for a drink. Just sent him a text.”

“Yes, sir,” the agent replied. I thought his name was Vance.

I walked the few blocks to the sports bar where I knew my roommate, Sam, was working. She spotted me right away and waved me over to an empty seat at the bar.

“Well?”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad it’s over.”

“I know you did amazing. What can I get you to drink? It’s on me.”

I thought for a moment. “Peach Long Island.”

“Ohhh it was that bad?”

“Just need to forget about it. Nothing I can do now.”

“All right. At least I know you’re not driving.”

No. Betsy was at home, and I’d gotten a ride with Fallon and his escorts. If Fallon went directly home to his man, I’d take a rideshare back to my apartment when I was ready.

Sam placed my drink in front of me. “Can I get you something to eat?”

“Yeah. I’ll take the fish and chips.”

“Coming right up.”

Taking a sip of my cocktail, I made a face as the alcohol slid down my throat. “Damn, Sammy. Trying to kill me?”

She glanced over and grinned from where she was punching my order into her kiosk. “You’re the one who wanted mostly alcohol in your drink.”

“You’re right. Just wasn’t expecting it.” I could have sworn my stomach was already warming from the one sip.

“Don’t get soft on me now, Rivers,” she teased.

I chuckled. “Honey, I’m never soft.”

I took another swallow of the potent Long Island, feeling the stress of the bar exam slowly fading away, and my phone buzzed in my pocket with a text.