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He’d fought for her, taken care of her, made her fall madly in love with him. How could she let him suffer for it?
Before she could decide what to do, her cell phone rang. She picked it up, not surprised to hear his voice.
“Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t come back. I got tied up down here.”
“Is everything all right?”
He sighed heavily into the phone. “Just a bunch of shit to deal with. My mother dragged half the attorneys in Florida up here with her.”
“I’m so sorry, Damien,” she whispered, pretending not to know what was going on.
“It’s not your fault.”
Yes. Yes, it was. At least partially.
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be—are you all right alone?”
Viv considered, and suddenly realized she had to get out of here before he arrived. When he was with her, it was too easy to lose herself in his arms, to forget all the difficulties that came with being the pretty but inappropriate woman shacking up in a hotel penthouse with a billionaire.
Julia Roberts might have gotten her happily-ever-after. But she hadn’t actually cost Richard Gere his company. And Richard Gere had eventually realized he did want love and a happily-ever-after. Damien might be wonderful, tender and supportive, but he hadn’t said he loved her. He hadn’t given any indication that he’d changed his stance on relationships.
“Listen,” she said, “I talked to my mom again. I decided I’m going to catch a train home tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow.” He fell silent. She waited, but when he didn’t speak, she rushed on. “I mean, you knew I was going home for the anniversary party this weekend. I’ll just go a day early to help out.”
“Yes, I remember. I—I’d wondered if you wanted me to take you.”
She clenched her eyes shut, hearing the shocking note of uncertainty in his voice. When had Damien ever been unsure of anything, before she came into his life and screwed things up for him?
Truthfully, she would have loved to bring him home to meet her family, to walk into the party on his arm. But that had been before. Now she realized it was impossible, that she’d merely be dragging him further and further from his real world.
“No, I don’t think so.” Swallowing, willing herself to be strong, she said, “Look, Damien, after what’s happened, well, the truth is, I just want to be with my family. Away from here. Away from...everyone.”
A brief hesitation. “From me?”
She didn’t deny it. Her heart broke at the idea of hurting him, and she knew she was. But was hurting him emotionally worse than being the cause of his financial trauma? Or, worse, him losing the team, which he’d said was the one thing he’d done for himself in his entire adult life?
“Please try to understand.”
He hissed. “Does this have anything to do with my mother?”
Well, his mother had certainly explained what was going on, but Viv wasn’t leaving because of Sylvia. She was leaving because it was best for Damien.
Maybe they’d find their way back to each other. Maybe he’d survive this mess and not come out of it blaming her. But for now, the best thing she could do for him was to get out of the way, let the bad publicity die down. She had to hope sanity would prevail and Bruno Neeley would not be able to twist any of this around on Damien and cost him control of the Vanguard.
“No, it doesn’t,” she said.
“Because she’s all kinds of messed up, Viv.” He let out a long, low breath. “Some of the things she told me, well, you wouldn’t believe it. I’m not sure I do.”
“Are you all right?”
“Yeah. I will be, anyway.” A harsh laugh. “Probably better than she expected me to.”
She heard voices in the background, and then Damien asking for another minute. Things were obviously crazy down there.
“I should go,” she said.
“Please don’t,” he said. “Viv, wait for me. I’ll take you to Pennsylvania tomorrow.”
She heard the longing in his voice, and the pain. And she almost changed her mind, almost gave in and decided to let the chips—and the companies, and the families—fall where they may.
But she just couldn’t do it. Damien didn’t deserve to be ruined because he’d had the misfortune of getting involved with a woman who invited, to use his mother’s favorite word, catastrophe.
“No, Damien. I’m sorry.”
“Give me a half hour. I’ll come up and we’ll talk. Just don’t go yet.”
She sniffed, starting to cry, sensing her resolve weakening. “Please don’t try to talk me out of it.” She swallowed, not trying to hide her misery. “I’ll miss my train. I have to go, Damien, and I’m begging you to let me.”
