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I smile at her contact photo. She’s changed it back to one of us.
Ava
I miss you more. X
Damon comes to a stop at one of the park gates. Turning to me, he studies me intently.
“Good job,” he finally says, his voice serious and deep.
“Thanks.” Clutching my purse in my hands, I look up at him.
“Want to grab some ice cream?” he asks from nowhere, and while my heart is thudding relentlessly and everything in me is screaming yes, but I can’t.
“Actually, I want to go home.” I sense his disappointment. Although I’m disappointed too, it’s for the best. “Good night, Damon.”
I turn and walk away, my heart hammering in my throat and my stomach twisting until I’m so nauseous, I’m clammy.
A hand grabs me by my elbow, causing me to stumble over the edge of the pavement onto the busy road.
Damon pulls me back, turning me to face him. “Wait…”
“Don’t.” I shake my head at his drawn face. I could kiss him. I want to kiss him. Maybe it’s the adrenaline of my plan working out. Perhaps it’s the praise he’s given me. I don’t know, but what I do know is that: “I’m not that woman, and you’re not that man. Let’s not pretend we’re something more than this.”
Shaking him off, I manage to cross the road and hail a cab before either one of us presses for more. For something we’re never going to be.
Chapter 9
Ava
The next couple of days at the office are a blur. I’m rushing from meeting to meeting, trying to keep myself stupidly busy so that I have an excuse to miss the weekly forecast meeting with management. Every moment of quiet I find myself in is tinged with words and whispers of what might have happened if I hadn’t walked away the other night.
“This all looks great.” Francesca sits back in the chair opposite my desk. Her hair tumbles past her petite shoulders while she takes a sip of the ginger tea that’s scented the air around us. “The numbers are incredible, and Damon believes you have Warner in the bag.”
“Nothing’s concrete.” I shuffle the papers in front of me with Damon’s words ringing in my ears. You’re incapable of landing Warner…don’t fuck things up with Rhodes…
“That’s not what he believes.”
There’s no point in arguing with her over it; we both know what he believes doesn’t mean anything until Callum is fully onboard and a contract is signed. We’re both quiet, me waiting for her to leave so I can continue with work, but she has other ideas.
Sitting up, she folds her arms over the edge of the desk and leans over them, leveling me with her bright gaze. “He’s stubborn and cantankerous.”
“Excuse me?”
“Damon.”
“Oh.” I hope my indifferent reply doesn’t betray my hammering heart at the sound of his name from her lips.
Perhaps her impromptu drop-in to go through figures is a ploy to deliver some kind of warning to stay away from him. Regardless, it’s unneeded. She can have him and his pissy attitude and ruthless antics.
My stomach twists at that, making my heart stutter with the sharp groaning ache.
He’s a bastard! Complete jerk, I remind myself, but it does nothing to quell the burn in my chest.
“He’s incredibly smart, and the problem with being that and stubborn is that he acts like an asshat. Especially when he cares about something…or someone.” She pauses, brushing her coiffed hair back like it was messy. “The thing is, he’s a spoiled rich brat that feels the need to make more of what was passed to him because this company was the sibling he never had. He loves this place, and when Damon loves something…he will do whatever it takes for it. Nothing will stand in his way.”
“Francesca—”
“Fran.”
