Tectonic (Double Blind Study Book 3)

by Heidi Hutchinson

  Yeah, the younger sister he'd never had. And she was perpetually disappointed with him.

  Greta remained silent on the drive over. Shane was too close to get a good read on her, so he couldn't tell if she was still pissed or finally chilling like he had told her to. When they pulled up in to the parking lot and she practically climbed over her brother to get away from him, he figured it out. His crazy rant in the kitchen earlier didn't faze her, but Clarke having to go into work at night most definitely did.

  That's when something clicked. She was more concerned about those around her than she was about herself. She'd freaking die before she allowed Clarke to come to harm. But Shane holding her face hostage and spilling his dark thoughts all over her didn't even register a red flag? Did she really think so little of herself? She could get hurt. And she'd never even see it coming.

  That heavy realization made Shane rub a hand down his face as he followed the group inside.

  Clarke took over with instructions at that point, and he hoped to hell that Greta was paying attention.

  Clarke wasn't just good at her job. She was brilliant. Even the stunning fact that the shipment came as a whole, instead of being parceled out over several weeks, didn't seem to overwhelm her. She made a plan, then executed the plan. She didn't miss much. As evidenced when she separated Shane and Greta to put away different sections of the store.

  Shane was banished to the technical while Greta was assigned to set up men's wearables. Harrison and Mike were the grunts who did the heavy lifting and moving around of boxes. And Clarke took care of women's wearables, because it was the most complicated and also the largest job by far.

  Shane wanted to shake Greta and say, “See? She gets it! That's why she makes almost as much as I do!” But he didn't. He let her ignore him for the time being and he focused on his assigned task.

  Easier said than done.

  The way the shop was arranged, the technical gear was right next to the men's department, while the women's wear was on a slight rise and around a huge seasonal art display of snowboarders in flight that was centered in the middle. He could see Greta the entire time and he could tell she was upset. It bothered him. Not because she was mad. No, because she looked hurt. He hadn't meant to do that. Mad, he could handle. Hurt? Not so much.

  Part of what was irritating him was that he had been the self-appointed protector of Clarke for years. Sure, he'd been busy with Lucy over the summer and then all the business mishaps on the East Coast the past few weeks, but that didn't mean he stopped caring about Clarke entirely.

  Clarke was like him. No parents. No siblings. He'd been watching out for her since the day he read her file. He had no idea if Greta knew all of Clarke's history, but she hadn't known her as long as he had.

  Of course, that seemed to be the norm with Greta. He had just met her a couple days ago and she was already behaving as if they'd been in each other's lives for years. Maybe that was just her way. Fiercely loyal, protective to those that meant something to her. It didn't look like it was too hard to become important to her.

  That was his in. Their common ground. Now he just had to convey that to her.

  Harrison set down another box and headed to the back to get more. Shane saw his opening and took it. He approached Greta quietly, sliding up next to her.

  “Hey,” he said casually.

  “You need something?” she asked politely.

  “Are we okay?” he asked, thinking after he said it how lame it sounded. How much he felt like a little bitch, trying to kiss ass. What the hell? Are we okay?

  “Yeah. We're awesome.” The sarcasm was a nice touch and he was back to thinking maybe a few rounds in the ring would help her work out a little of that aggression.

  “Greta,” he all but snapped. She turned the full force of those blue eyes on him and he fought back the urge to look away. “I know Clarke needs a break, all right? I'm working on it. She works her balls off and it hasn't gone unnoticed. But I sort of take issue with you telling me how to do my job, and at the same time assuming I don't give a shit about my people.”

  Something shifted in her eyes and her face softened. Her lips twitched as she tried to reply. Finally, she answered softly, “I'm sorry. I was out of line.”

  “Holy crap. Did you just apologize to me?” Shane wasn't sure he'd heard right. His reaction was obviously less than ideal because the softness disappeared and she turned away from him again. “C'mon, I was kidding.” He tugged on her forearm lightly and she jerked away, walking around to the other side of the table where she was working. She made a slight show of taking earbuds out of her pocket, plugging them into her phone, and then putting them in her ears.

  Shane watched her, amused again. She might be getting to him, but he was just as easily getting to her.

  He waited to the count of ten before he eased around to her side of the table. She was planning on ignoring him, so he purposefully moved into her personal space, making her movements more difficult. He dipped his head and inhaled the scent of her clean hair. Her back straightened and he cocked a grin, pulled out one of her earbuds and said, “I like your conditioner. Guava, right?” He replaced the bud.

  Her jaw clenched and he stepped away, chuckling. He chanced a look over his shoulder at her as he returned to his section of the store. She was concentrating on her task but must have sensed him looking, because her eyes cut up to his and she flashed him a smile that could have lit up five city blocks.

  Yeah, they were okay.

  Chapter 4

  Have It All

  Shane looked back down at the resume in his hands.

  “Ophelia... I don't even know how to say your last name,” he admitted with a small headshake.

  The wisp of a girl sitting in the chair across from his desk gave him a tight smile. She came wearing a Clash t-shirt, jeans, and motorcycle boots. Her black hair was cut close to her scalp and her blue eyes were, in a word, piercing.

  “Sozhalet,” she said, but he still missed the pronunciation. “Everyone just calls me Lia.”

  “Okay, I can do that.”

  The interview had gone very smoothly. Shane practically hired her based on her resume and clean background check alone. She was qualified, brilliant, and punctual.

  Lia made three new hires that day and he was feeling hopeful. The two young men that he'd added to the payroll were also bright and intelligent, but Lia possessed a slight edge beneath her cool exterior that Shane thought would play in her favor.

  Besides, he'd never been disappointed when he'd bet on the strong women in his life.

  “What is the expected dress code?” Lia asked.

  “Pretty casual. You can wear what you want as long as it's not inappropriate or offensive. I already told this to the other two hires today, now I'll tell you. You're all in training for the same position. I'll rotate the responsibilities you'll share throughout the week, and whoever rises to the top will eventually outrank the other two. Does that make sense? Seem fair?”

  “It's your business, Mister Brookings. I will do the job you hire me to perform to the best of my ability. It's up to you to judge what's fair.”

  Shane had to fight the urge to smile. Coming from most people, her words would sound like serious ass-kissery, but she was as sincere as the ocean was wet.

  “My second in command, Clarke Matthews, returns in a week. You'll be working directly for her. You make her job easier, you make me very happy.”

  Lia gave another tight smile, and Shane wondered briefly where she had really come from. He pushed the questions from his mind. He had no need to get to know her personally, he only needed her to be great at her job. Other than that, they really shouldn't have any kind of interaction outside of work.

  Still, she was different. He could tell she had a secret. Though, to be fair, everyone had secrets.

  ***

  Wednesday night was girls' night.

  It had been this way for several months after Tatewin had taken her new paralegal job and
was at school most of the time. Greta insisted they have one night a week where just the ladies got together for a few drinks at this little bar near the pier. It was a guaranteed good time, and coming in the middle of the week was the perfect way for the girls to reconnect amidst their busy lives.

  And Greta needed a girls' night.

  She wanted to say it was just because she missed her girls and that was all. But she had been spending a lot of time with the boys lately, and she really wanted to feel like a girl again. Even if only for a night. Not that the boys weren't great, they totally were. But while her brother's band acted like her surrogate family, it was easily ten times worse with Bo, Brady, Steve, Kip and Adam.

  She wasn't entirely sure when or why it had started, but there was a definite “hands-off” rule around her. And that leaked into the rest of her social life. If she was out with the boys, she was treated like a boy, and thus other guys wouldn't flirt with her or even talk to her. But when she got to go out with her girls, she got to feel like a girl.

  And sometimes, that was a very nice feeling.

  So, for girls' night, they went to this little bar that the guys didn't ever frequent. It was small, funky, and loud.

  Greta loved it.

  “Frickin-A, Tate! You look like a super model!” Greta grabbed the tall, raven-haired beauty in a hug around her neck.

  Tatewin smiled and glanced down at her attire, white skinny jeans and a red silk halter that were stunning against her dark complexion. Her mile-long legs looked even longer in her wedge sandals, and Greta gave a low whistle while openly checking her out.

  “Oh, Greta, you always make me feel so good about myself.” Tatewin giggled a little at she put her tiny clutch down and took a seat on a stool at the table that Greta had commandeered. She looked around at the crowded bar and frowned softly. “Kinda busy for a Wednesday, isn't it?”

  “Yeah, I think it's holiday break or something.” Greta shrugged since there did seem to be an inordinate number of college boys around.

  Clarke returned from the bathroom and jumped onto her stool. “Tate! How is our lovely lawyer in training? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!”

  “Tell me about it. Between school and work, I hardly have time to get home for a shower. It's nice that Eddie lives so close to the campus.” Tatewin opened up her purse. “To make up for it, drinks are on me tonight.”

  Clarke and Greta whooped as the server came over and took their order. Greta was feeling especially feisty and went for her 'special occasion' beverage: tequila. Tatewin ordered her usual Cosmo, because she was classy like that, and Clarke surprised them all by ordering herself Jack and Coke.

  Tate raised an eyebrow at her. “What has gotten into you? Don't you work tomorrow?”

  Clarke gave a sly smile. “I just really want to let my hair down. If I have to work with a hangover tomorrow, so be it. I'm tired of feeling like my hands are tied.”

  “Shane told me he was going to hire some more help. So your workload should decrease soon,” Greta said sympathetically. Shane had told her a lot recently. Apparently her little snit last Sunday made him inclined to make sure Greta understood that he was taking care of Clarke.

  “It's weird enough that you've been hanging out with my boss regularly. Could you maybe leave me out of it?” Clarke scrunched up her nose and Greta laughed.

  “Wait a minute,” Tatewin interrupted, “what have I missed since last Wednesday? You need to fill me in.”

  Clarke told her version to Tate, which Greta thought seemed to shy away from the truth. Especially when Tatewin gave her the raised eyebrow, skeptical older sister look that she had perfected the moment she had met Greta. But Greta was used to people not understanding her impulses or methods. It always worked out and they were always wrong to worry. This time would be no different. Except that she might end up with some of the best sketches of her life. Shane Brookings was a physical anomaly, perfect in every way, and that included his flaws.

  “Why don't you tell Tate about the new friend you made this week?” Greta turned the tables on Clarke.

  “Mike and I are just friends.” Clarke rolled her eyes.

  “That's what I said,” Greta said with a smirk.

  “The drummer?” Tatewin clarified.

  Clarke avoided eye contact and instead looked down into her drink. “Yeah, it's not anything to even talk about.”

  “What about the walk on the beach late at night a few days ago?” Greta elbowed her in the ribs and Tate's eyes went wide with curiosity.

  They had been trying to get Clarke to date the entire time they had known her. The girl used her job as the most effective way to hide from the opposite sex. Which was a pity, because Clarke was an awesome chick, and Greta and Tate both agreed that maybe a little love in her life would help with her stress level.

  “Why do I get the feeling that you're shoving him at me?” Clarke arched an eyebrow, but there was amusement in her voice.

  “I would never dream of doing that,” Greta said cheekily. “Besides, I'm living vicariously through Tatewin's love life.”

  Tate laughed and waived the server over for refills. “I do have it pretty good, can't lie about that.”

  Normally, on girls' night, they limited themselves to two drinks and called it good. But Greta was on her fourth shot and she'd lost count of how many Clarke had had. Young men had started to stop by the table, and Tate took it upon herself to wave them away.

  “I swear, you two draw more attention when you're together than Victoria's Secret models.” Tate shook her head in amusement.

  “It's 'cause we're stone cold hotties.” Greta giggled and Clarke joined her. Yeah, they had definitely had a lot more to drink than usual. And it was awesome.

  “Do you think we'll still have girls' night after Tate gets married, and her rich husband moves her to Spain?” Clarke asked, suddenly sad, and she leaned against Greta.

  “I don't know.” Greta shook her head, her formerly swooped back hair now coming loose and falling around her shoulders. She reached up and removed the remaining pins, setting the rest of it free.

  As if on cue, a couple of cuties left the bar where they'd been watching the girls and walked towards them. Greta gave them a wink and tugged Clarke off her stool. “I don't want to think about sad things, let's dance instead.”

  “I don't want to dance, I want hang with my girls,” Clarke protested.

  “Oh, stop. Just admit that you're afraid of boys,” Greta baited, knowing that Clarke would take it.

  “I'll show you who's afraid of boys.” Clarke took another shot that had shown up at the table and stumbled after her friend.

  ***

  It wasn't Pauly's, so Shane didn't think too much of it when Steve and Brady asked to meet him for drinks after work. It had been a long day and he thought maybe one drink sounded like a good idea. Not like the ten plus he'd had the last time he'd gone out with the guys.

  The bar was small and kind of crammed for the middle of the week, but the music was good, so there was that.

  The three of them got a couple beers and parked themselves on stools around a tall table. The patrons were noisy and the girls were flirty. Again, Shane wasn't having a hard time garnering attention from the female population, and Steve was loving it.

  “Going out with you is like a guaranteed hook-up for me. You are the best wingman. And you don't even have to do anything, just sit there and look pretty.” Steve grinned at a petite blonde that gave a curious glance around their table on her way by.

  Shane shrugged off Steve's good mood. He'd been nursing his singular beer for a half an hour as Steve hit on every girl that walked by. He pulled out his phone and checked for any missed messages. Nothing. Which wasn't a surprise, but he still felt disappointment burn through him briefly.

  He and Greta had been texting pretty consistently for the past four days, and when he had had enough of her witty banter in textual form and said he wanted to see those smart-ass words come out of her smart-a
ss mouth, she shot him down. In a nice way. She claimed it was girls' night and asked for a rain check. It was weird for Shane. Women didn't turn him down. Ever. Which is why he was careful about who he asked to hang out with. Her rejection only solidified what she had stated earlier: he was a project, not a boyfriend.

  “When are you guys gonna move out of Clarke's place?” Shane asked as Steve brought another pitcher of beer over to their table.

  “Hopefully never. That's the swankiest place I've ever lived.” Steve chuckled heartily.

  Brady rolled his eyes. “I have a line on a house. We should be able to move out in a week or two. Why? Has Clarke said something?”

  “Only in passing. But you guys really shouldn't have stayed as long as you did.” Shane tried to give Steve a glare, but it was ignored.

  “What about you being Greta Garbo's new thing? How is that gonna play out?” Steve asked with a chin lift.

  “None of your business,” Shane answered darkly, and Steve let loose with loud laughter.

  “She's getting to you already, isn't she?” Steve was nearly falling off his stool in glee. “That's what she does, dude! She gets under your skin and makes you really want to arm-wrestle her.”

  “Dude,” Brady warned Steve with a headshake.

  “I'm just glad you guys finally reconnected. Took me a week to find her for you.” Steve let out a belch as he pressed on the center of his chest with a fist.

  “What?” Shane felt his eyebrows draw in deeply.

  “Just hope this whole thing plays out good for the two of you. The kid has kinda grown on me. I'd hate to see you scrape her off.”

  “Shut up, Steve!” Brady barked, and Shane threw a frown in his direction.

  “Whatever, man. I gotta take a piss.” Steve slapped his hand on the table as he departed.