"Don't do that," he growled. "Don't use that psychobabble bullshit on me. I'm telling you to stay away from my father."
Psychobabble bullshit, really? She ground her own teeth. Well, he hasn't changed.
She studied him so close above her. His eyes and jaw hard as granite. There was no way anything she could say would change his mind about what she was doing. Lucky for her she did not need his permission. But understanding some of the past he had let slip when they were together she spoke with a tone that was careful of his feelings. Even while her words were the unvarnished truth. "I will make my own decisions on this, and every other matter. You gave up whatever rights you imagine you have over me when you left, remember?"
He growled again, using his bigger size to try and intimidate her by shifting his hips more firmly into hers. "I cannot say this plainer. You are not working for my father," he said as if that was the end of it. "Period."
Mira growled her own answer and did what she should have done when he first showed up in her dreams. She closed her eyes and concentrated on shutting him out. He was still cursing in her mind when she woke up back at the compound, still fully dressed and on top of the still made bed.
Now she really needed that shower. A cold one, for all the good it would do her. And tomorrow she was telling Doctor Weer and Major Franks that she would take the job. McAlister Weer could go to hell as far as she was concerned.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mira almost changed her mind the next morning when she woke up and realized she was making important decisions based on anger for one McAlister Weer, and his need to control her life from afar. Which made it so much more intolerable that when he tried doing it while living with her. She felt a pang at the thought. She wanted to be over him, it made no sense to crave a man who not only had no interest in starting a family with her but could not even be bothered to show up when she needed him.
She still remembered the look he gave her when she told him the next time he left that she would not be there when he returned.
Incredulous, as if he could not even imagine her having the backbone to keep that promise. He had kissed her hard and angry and told her he could find her anywhere. Then he had left. It was that blatant disregard of her feelings that had finally been enough to push her over the edge. She had moved out, taken only what she had brought with her and when he had found her, she had told him it was over and that if he had any feelings left for her at all, he would respect her decision and leave her alone.
Eventually he had believed her. His leaving for good probably would have hurt worse if he had not done it so many times before.
Unfortunately for her, saying it was over and feeling like it was over were two different things. She had given herself plenty of time to find someone else, someone she could love and who would love her and be there for her. Someone to raise a family with, but even with his frequent trips McAlister Weer was a hard act to follow, because when he was there, he was 100% there. No one else she had halfheartedly tried with had come close. So she had stopped trying and six years had passed in a blink and she was no closer to that family she had always wanted then the day she left him.
The truth was she missed him, even after all this time when she was supposed to be moving on. That did not mean she was wrong in kicking him to the curb. She did not blame him for what he needed, at least when she was being logical about it. Just as he did not seem to blame her for what she wanted. But that did not really give them any wriggle room to actually live together. She just needed to convince her heart it was over so she could truly move on.
His regular invasion of her dreams whenever he decided to interfere in her life was not helping matters. But making decisions just to contradict his ridiculous orders was just as bad as turning down the job because he said so.
So, she was going to take the job because she could make a difference here, and because she had a feeling this was where she needed to be. The fact that it would infuriate Mac was just a bonus.
***
Mira spent the first few weeks of her job at the Weer labs looking over her shoulder and dreading what would happen if Mac inexplicably did decide to show up in person.
It wasn’t until Doc Weer began making noises about returning to his own lab that she started to relax, sure that she had been right all along. Mac was not going to come for her. Just like all the other times when he had failed to show. So really she should be thrilled.
Since she had been working overtime to manage the stress levels every time the mercurial Doctor came into the lab, she should be doubly thrilled at the news he was giving up on Franks ridiculous plan and going back to his lab. Maybe now they would have some peace, and she could get some sleep at night.
It was, if she were being completely honest with herself, both relief and a disappointment that Mac had stayed true to form. But only because she really wanted to yell at him in person, she assured herself, not because she missed him. Really she never thought of the man. Tucking the memory of her short marriage away had been the first thing she had forced herself to do when she left. It was the only way she could make herself move on like she needed to. And even if she was still alone six years later, it was still better than the constant waiting for a man who was always going to leave again.
At least she liked the job. And she had her own office. Though it was small, it had a window even if she couldn’t open it, at least she had a window to the world outside and some natural light. The room itself was big enough for her desk and two chairs, so she could at least close the door on the bustling lab and talk to one person at a time in private. Not to mention the walls of windows and proximity to the lab allowed her to keep her finger on the pulse, as it were. Which, in turn, allowed her to defuse any negativity almost as soon as it started either by dealing with a situation as it arose, or using her other special skills when needed. For what she hoped to accomplish with this job it was the best possible situation.
Sitting across from Major Franks in his office that was three times the size of hers, Mira was not so certain that he was as happy about her decision to take the job. He certainly never seemed pleased to see her when she came to him with new ideas. And after only a few weeks on the job, that had happened enough that she did not need to see the impatience on his face to know he was over it, and her.
That was not however going to discourage her. Which was why she had asked for this meeting and asked that the man standing currently beside his commanding officer be included. Nevada stood tall and broad with a face that gave nothing away while Franks…Well, he was not hiding anything at the moment.
Mira had known from the beginning that he had hired her less for her abilities and scientific credentials than her relationship, such as it was with Mac, but she was determined to do her job and produce results in the work flow that could be quantified and measured. Unfortunately, some of her ideas seemed to be a bit out there for the military minded major.
"You want to do what?" he barked when she told him her latest idea for improving office morale.
"I want to organize a staff mixer,” she answered calmly as she always did when he got like this.
"This is not a damn singles club where we encourage fraternizing." He said looking disgusted.
"I'm not suggesting wine, soft piano music and low lighting,” she said with exasperation. “I'm suggesting a buffet meal in the mess hall once a month and one day a week where they get a long lunch and get to know the people they pass in the hall every day. Some people need a different environment to flourish. They need a connection to the people they see every day, even if it’s a minor one.” When his eyes started to glaze over she reined in her enthusiasm for her job and finished as clinically as she could. “Some people thrive on solitude, and that is fine, we are not asking them to leave their labs if they don't want to, though I will say a few of your more obsessed Ph D's should be encouraged to stop and eat, at least once in a while."
"Are we on babysitting detail now?" Nevada spoke
up in a mutter drawing her attention.
She looked at Nevada, not the least bit intimidated by his aggressive male stance, trying for neutral in tone. "That reminds me," she pulled a paper from the notebook she carried with her everywhere and passed the sheet across the desk to Franks, motioning that it was for his officer. Franks looked it over and then passed it back to Nevada while he looked back at her with a curiosity added to the impatience in his eyes.
Nevada just looked confused. "What is this?"
"That is a list of the women who don't appreciate your subtle brand of charm," she said, her voice as mild as she could make it. "At least the list in red is. Please refrain from making them feel uncomfortable with your attention. I realize saying this to you could make you immediately feel challenged and double your efforts with the women, but please, do not.” She gave him as grave a look as she could produce. “Half of them are already contemplating either quitting or suing the lab for sexual harassment. Or both. I do not want to have to recommend you be transferred to a less important job when you are so clearly trusted with this one. As an important member of the major’s staff you would be missed, but if you can't restrain yourself and act professionally with the women on staff who take exception to your flagrant sexual innuendos, it will be my only recourse."
She could practically feel his embarrassment and anger building, but his eyes just snapped at her as he motioned to the paper. His curiosity got the better of him because he asked his question, as she was hoping he would, before flying into a defensive anger outburst. "What's the other list?"
Mira smiled at him, the sudden sparkle in her eyes completely confusing him. "The one in black is the list of women who like your attention. Feel free to continue flirting with them, you brighten their days considerably."
He snorted out a laugh before he could stop it and then looked confused as his feelings immediately shifted. Smug satisfaction and humor fought with his anger of a moment before. He looked back at the list with new eyes and then back at her with a smirk. "You aren't on either list."
She raised a brow at him. "I'm in the third category and did not need to be on either list."
"What category is that?"
"Women who don't notice or have any reaction to your flirting one way or another." She shrugged. "You just don't factor into our day and therefore have no bearing on job satisfaction or lack of."
He looked from her to the list and she just knew he was trying to think of who else had been left off both lists and how he felt about it. The man did like to spread his charm out to the masses, but she had no doubt he would be paying quite a bit of attention to the women who came into his sphere for the next little while. Trying to figure out the rest.
She gave him serious eyes and did her best to project stern truth and compassion his way. "Please listen to me when I say the red list is a serious thing. The list is short but important. You are making them uncomfortable, and in one case the woman is close to quitting because she can't handle the memories your aggressive flirting is bringing up from past abuse.” She was relieved when her words seemed to get through to him and she felt his remorse at her words. She wasted not a second pushing that button. “Please take this seriously and realize that it is not so much about you as it is about them and their reactions to a big aggressive male giving them attention they do not want, or in some cases, just can't handle."
"I thought you said this wasn't about fraternization?" Franks asked belligerently, looking from his man to her and frowning. "If some of these women don't want attention why the hell are we catering long lunches every Friday?"
Mira fought the need to roll her eyes and tell him it’s not always about sex. She refrained, barely, and said instead. "The lunches are about getting to know your colleagues, not scoring dates. Most men," she motioned to Denver briefly with a nod of acknowledgment. "Not all obviously, but most don't equate talking with anything more than friendly conversation. And generally speaking, it has been my experience that women will gravitate to other women, and the men the same. This is not about forcing difference sexes into a broader understanding of each other. Just giving people a chance to make whatever connections they feel comfortable making while in a mess hall with lots of already prepared food, and a little extra time to appreciate it and talk to each other. As opposed to rushing to eat and get back to work."
"How is less time in the lab going to help boost production?" Franks asked, looking no happier than he had a moment before. Though she could feel he was teetering, if still exasperated with her and her ideas.
"It will allow people to make connections, or in some cases just relax with people they are actually allowed to talk to about their work, people who share their passion on the subject of science, most likely, and it could spark ideas along with giving them a place to comfortably and safely talk about what they do. Which would relieve some of the pressure they are under outside of the workplace to hold back. Some people, especially those with a scientific bent love to talk about their work. This gives them a chance to do that, safely and without breaking any confidentiality clauses in their air tight contracts."
Major Franks nearly came to attention, sharpening like a blade at her words. "Are you saying some of our people are talking outside of the labs?"
She did not roll her eyes. But she was tempted. "I'm saying that when I interview a scientist who suddenly has someone who he can talk to and the time to do it, I can practically feel the tension easing. I am telling you they are not talking, and some of them need to be able to, at least once in a while. In a casual setting where they can take their time and do it right. A long lunch once a week will meet more than one need for your staff." She huffed out a breath when she felt herself hit against a solid wall of will. She glared at the Major, narrowing her eyes. "If you were not going to at least try my suggestions why exactly did you hire me?"
"Fine," he gritted out. Then he looked at Denver briefly. "Don't flirt with the women on the list she gave you," he said gruffly. Then noticed the way Denver was eyeing Mira's crossed legs. "No eye fucking them either." He snapped with heat. "Not them, or the Doctor here, that's an order."
Nevada turned surprised eyes his way and pointed at Mira. "But she's not on the list."
Mira nearly laughed at the way he said it with such serious confusion.
His commanding officer however did not find it funny. "She's on my gods damned list," he nearly shouted the words, standing so fast his chair slid back and crashed into the wall of smoky glass at his back. "And she's gods damn married to McAlister fucking Weer, which makes her gods damned off limits. Have I made myself clear, marine?"
"Yes sir." Nevada was suddenly standing at attention. But really what else could he say?
Mira cleared her throat. "On that note, I think I will leave you two gentlemen to yourselves." She had a few other things on her list to talk about, but they could wait. They had covered the most important things and she had no desire to discuss anything with a pissed off marine corps major and his equally, but hiding it pissed off subordinate, who topped six feet and looked to be made of solid iron.
She met the major’s still blazing eyes. No, he was not happy at the moment and she did not want to be the person in his cross-hairs while he had that look on his face. "We can discuss catering and the other security protocols I will need to follow when you," she paused. How to put it delicately. "Have some time to think about it." And calm down.
She had no idea what it was about Nevada's attention that had suddenly rubbed him the wrong way, but she knew something about it had, because she had felt the anger simmer and then burst with that one look. If she was not mistaken, it was his loyalty to Mac that had spurred the reaction. That and the strange protectiveness he seemed to feel towards her, also she was sure, something that could be traced back to Mac.
She could not ask him, at least not now, but she was curious to know what the relationship had been between the major and Mac. Because she knew with that one outburst that it was somethin
g almost like family.
"My aide will have to clear a local company for this, and it will take time to set it up, but I'll have him get hold of you and the two of you can hash it out." He sounded almost apologetic, but the anger was still riding both his voice and his eyes.
"I didn't realize you had an aide," she answered mildly. Where had he been hiding all this time?
"Well, I do," Franks blustered, sitting back down on his chair, once Denver hauled it back for him from the window and set it back behind the desk. "Been on vacation the last few weeks. Back Wednesday.”
"Then I look forward to discussing the long lunches with your aide and will keep you informed by email on the progress.
Franks snorted and then he motioned to the door with his eyes on Nevada “Dismissed."
"Thank you, sir."
Nevada left as stiff as if he had been wearing parade blues at the white house. Mira turned to follow him out.
"You're not always going to get everything you want, just because you asked for it," Franks felt the need to warn her. "We run a gods damn tight ship for a reason, and if I don't see results from this hoopla I'll expect to hear why."
Mira turned at the door Nevada was holding open for her respectfully, if stiffly, and smiled at the belligerent Major. She saluted him and tried to infuse military efficiency into her tone. "Yes, sir."
Franks snorted again and muttered as he bent to his work, finally dismissing them in truth. "Smart ass."
CHAPTER FIVE
It was not a day later that all her carefully nurtured delusions of peace and her surety in the life she had chosen were utterly and irrevocably demolished. And all it took was one McAlister Weer to stroll through the front doors.
Mira felt something the moment he entered the building. Like a strike to the gut and a blaze of pure happiness all at the same time. The conflicting emotions hitting her at almost equal strength had her hand going to her heart and her legs giving out. Which meant, since she was in the lab everyone stopped what they were doing to come to her aid, sure that she was having a heart attack. As soon as she could breathe enough to form words, she would assure them she was not dying. Even if it almost felt like she was.
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