The Intern: Enemies To Lovers

I couldn’t take another step.

I couldn’t sit.

I’d planned to never see this man again unless I faced him in the courtroom, where I would be forced to address him professionally and fully intended to whip his ass. That was what he deserved after ditching me for Madison. The aftershock of seeing that photo still rattled me.

But now, he was here.

In Christopher’s office.

Which meant only one thing.

I was staring at my new mentor-a piece of information my family hadn’t given me before I walked down the hallway. Based on his question, I figured they must have kept him in the dark as well.

Oh God.

How? Why?

And what am I going to do?

The dryness on my tongue made it almost impossible for me to swallow. “I work here.” No, that’s not really true. “I’m an intern.”

“Since when?”

I couldn’t tell if he was pleased by this news or pissed.

“Since today,” I replied.

If he had been given my information prior to me walking through his door, then he would have connected the dots by now, and he would know I was a Dalton. Therefore, I had to assume he still didn’t know.

Oh boy.

Today keeps getting more interesting by the second.

“Declan, when did you start working here?”Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

I hoped this was just a temporary situation, that Christopher was on vacation and would replace Declan in a couple of days or hours-the latter being my preference.

“A few days ago.”

I tried to fill my lungs. “And you’re going to be my … mentor?”

His eyes narrowed. “Looks that way, doesn’t it?”

“It … does.”

He pointed at one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Sit.”

I encouraged my feet to move even though they didn’t want to, and once I was safely seated, his stare intensified.

I couldn’t continue to hold his gaze.

It was too much.

I just wanted to run and never return to this office again.

But I couldn’t. I had to say something. There were just so many elephants in the room; I didn’t know which one to start with.

My name seemed like a solid place, but I needed to find a way to ease into it.

Make light of it-somehow.

“You know, it’s funny; my cousin always tells me about the firm’s new hires,” I said. “At least the lawyers who come on board who have quite a name for themselves, like you. I wish he’d mentioned something, especially since you’re such a celebrity at our law school.”

I wondered why Ford hadn’t told me, considering I’d watched his daughter the past two nights, giving him a perfect opportunity to bring it up.

Declan was quiet for a few moments. “Your cousin works in HR?”

“No.” Strands of my hair fell into my face as I shook my head. “Ford is one of the partners. As are Dominick and Jenner-all my first cousins.”

“Wait.” His arms landed on the desk, moving his body closer to me. “You’re related to the Daltons?”

My hands were practically dripping with sweat. As I recrossed my legs, I shoved my fingers between them, hoping my skirt would soak up the wetness. “Their father and my father are brothers.”

More silence passed.

“That makes you …”

“A Dalton.” I bit my bottom lip. “I’m Hannah Dalton.”

“Hannah Dalton,” he repeated. He dropped his gaze to the desk, appearing like he was processing the news, exhaling loud enough for me to hear. “A bit of information that would have been helpful to know that night.”

That night.

A night I wished I could take back.

A night that had obviously meant much more to me than him if he’d so easily left me at the bar to go to Madison.

A night I didn’t want to discuss with the man who was now my mentor, whom I would be working closely with for the next semester.

And a night I never wanted my family to find out about. I wouldn’t be fired-I knew that much-but I didn’t know what would happen if my aunt and uncle or even Dominick, Jenner, and Ford found out that Declan had fucked his future intern. That he’d left me alone at a bar. That he hadn’t even had the decency to make sure I had a way home.

I couldn’t have that evening hanging over us.

I couldn’t let on that I was upset about what he’d done.

I certainly couldn’t acknowledge that I’d fallen for him in a matter of minutes, and even though I’d tried pushing him out of my brain, I couldn’t, and I’d thought of him every day since.

There had to be a way out of this. To avoid the conversation altogether. To start fresh as two people who had just crossed paths in a classroom, nothing else.

And then it hit me.

Why couldn’t I have been too drunk to remember what had happened between us?

In order for Declan to prove I was lying, he’d need to bear the burden of showing that I was guilty beyond all reasonable doubt.

The only evidence that existed was the dirt I’d found on my suit jacket and tank top from him stripping them off me and throwing the clothes to the ground. He didn’t know I’d found the stains the next morning and sent them to the dry cleaner.

He also didn’t know there had been an ache between my legs when I woke up, the soreness a constant reminder throughout the day of the pleasure he’d given me and just how large he was.

The last thing he couldn’t prove was how alcohol affected me, that after several shots and a few martinis on an empty stomach, I could have been a forgetful mess.

The way I saw it, he had no case at all.