Page 3 of Make You Mine

Declan

“If it isn’t Keating, you jammy bastard!” Cormac Doyle earns several looks as he barrels toward me, the buttons on his dress shirt straining against the fabric. “What’s the craic?”

We meet halfway down the corridor for a hearty handshake, forcing skittish interns and paper pushers alike to sidestep around us.

It wouldn’t be a day at Halberd if two executives didn’t take up more space than necessary.

The only difference is that these days, I’m one of them. I’ll be the bloke in the suit and tie brokering deals and helping Halberd’s UK arm buy up smaller companies.

“Ah, fuck all. And yourself?” I answer him, pocketing both hands once we let go from our firm handshake.

Cormac flashes a grin of overcrowded teeth. “Well, you’re in one piece. I trust the move was plain sailing?”

Close enough.

“Let’s call it survivable,” I say, selecting my words wisely.

He barks out a laugh, then tosses an arm around my shoulders.

“Let me tell you, Declan. We’re chuffed to have you.

Me and Taylor hand-selected you ourselves.

We knew you could handle this role. Said if anybody’s gonna smash it to bits, it’d be Keating with his smart mouth and bollocks the size of boulders. ”

We walk the rest of the way down the corridor, reaching the executives’ elevator. Cormac is busy banging on about all the perks I’ll be offered as Managing Director.

“You ever had the A5 Kobe at Hotstone?” Cormac asks, fingers pinched in the universal chef’s kiss gesture. “Bloody orgasmic, mate! You’ll come in your pants. Melts in your fucking mouth it’s so bloody good. And you’ve got a standing reservation now, compliments of Halberd.”

I’ve half a mind to ask if a bite of cow really has him blowing his load, but he moves onto the next perk.

Halberd’s Executive-level Sauna Club.

“You haven’t lived ’til you’ve sat arse-out in the company sauna with a client who signs seven-figure deals while exfoliating,” Cormac boasts. “And the towels? Egyptian. They have you feeling like bloody Cleopatra.”

“Ah, yes. Just what my life was missing. Stewing in a steam box with naked strangers.”

“You laugh now… but give it a week. You’ll be swearing by it like the rest of us sweaty bastards.”

The elevator dings and we finally make it to our floor.

It’s exactly what you’d expect out of a company like Halberd—polished chrome and glass with matte-black fixtures and soft lighting.

Everything’s curated like it’s for a fucking social media feed. I half expect some twenty-something-year-old girl to jump out and snap a photo for Instagram.

Cormac shows me to my office, a room triple the size of my last one. It’s empty except for the sleek desk and executive chair stationed by the large window.

The view of the Thames River is impressive. I’ll give them that.

Cormac leaves me to get situated. I switch on my computer and start unpacking the few things I’ve brought in my satchel, items like framed photographs of Amerie and the kids.

My phone buzzes in my trouser pocket. I check what the notification could be and see it’s the alert for Amerie’s glucose monitor.

LOW GLUOSE ALERT - 62

“Fucking hell,” I curse under my breath. I bring up Amerie’s name and select the call button. It rings several times before sending me to voicemail, her sweet voice coming on to tell me to leave a message. I hang up and try a message instead.

According to your glucose monitor, you’re trying to die again. Confirm or deny?

I send the cheeky message through, finding myself staring at the screen for a response that doesn’t come.

I know you hate me hovering… but I’m not sitting on this all day. Let me know you’re okay.

Cormac had mentioned a corporate meeting at the start of the hour, but I’m quickly losing track of time. My pulse has elevated as dread fills me and thoughts about how far away I am pollute my mind.

This is exactly why I’d waffled on taking the job. Being an hour away wasn’t just inconvenient—it was reckless, knowing how Amerie pushes herself.

She’s the most brilliant woman I’ve ever known, and the worst when it comes to putting herself first. Two kids, a house to manage, her health troubles, and a looming book deadline.

And yet she still insists she’s fine. She never stops. Not even long enough to eat.

I’m half a second from jumping on a bloody train back to Rosethorne when my phone starts buzzing in my hand.

She’s calling me back.

The first words out of her mouth are reassurance.

“It’s nothing, Declan,” she says, rustling noises in the background. “I just… between walking Willow to school and Emmett’s checkup… I forgot to eat. I’m fine now.”

“Are you?” I ask, skeptical. “Because if your glucose is tanking, that doesn’t sound like fine to me, Amerie. I’m an hour away, and you don’t know anyone in the area.”

“I know that. But we moved for your job, remember?” she snipes back. “And before you ask—yes, I’ve eaten and I’ve taken insulin. I know how to manage my own body, Declan.”

Her voice drips with irritation.

That’s the thing about my lovely little wife: she’s got a temper and she’s headstrong.

Most days, I love that about her. Other times, like now, it just means neither of us will back down.

“I’m not doubting you, love,” I say, keeping my cool. “I’m doubting whether you’ll bloody take a break before you drop.”

She sighs, pausing long enough to let my words linger a moment. “What are you saying?”

“I think you know. Have you given it some thought?”

“I don’t know, Declan… it just seems…” she puffs out another breath, “silly to have help when I can do it myself. Am I really going to have some lady come to our house to pick up after us?”

I laugh like she’s told a joke. “Yes, love. That’s exactly the idea. And we’ll pay her handsomely to do it.”

“Hmm, maybe…”

“What if we put up a few job postings? Just meet some candidates and see how you feel?” I say, sensing her defenses lowering. Time to move in for the kill. “We can afford it now, Amerie. I’m making triple what I was. What have I told you?”

“You want the best for me and the kids.”

“Yes. And?”

“For me to make time for myself and my writing.”

“Precisely. Which means?”

I can hear the smile in her voice now. “Okay,” she says softly. “We’ll give it a try.”

We hang up from our call with a grin spreading on my face. First deal brokered for the day. No wonder Halberd hand-picked me for this role.