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I stared at him flatly. I saw that lame attempt at placation for exactly what it was. Entirely ridiculous at best. Insulting at worst. “We both agreed we were wrong,” I continued. I was going to take the high road here. “We’re back at our original impasse.”
“Of mutual dislike and attraction.”
“Oh, please. You never disliked me.”
“So humble and modest,” he said right as his phone rang. He pulled it out from his pocket and glanced at the screen. “It’s my father. I have to get this—do you mind?”
Oh.
Shit.
I opened my mouth to tell him not to answer that call because uhhelloawkward. Instead, I shook my head that I didn’t, and tried not to lose my mind entirely as he held the phone to his ear.
This day just went from bad to worse.
I must’ve really pissed someone off in a past life.
***
By the time Damien walked back through the door with a frown on his face, I’d finished my drink, called and paid for the check, and finally beaten my nemesis level on Candy Crush.
He slowly walked up to the table, staring down at his phone like he’d just gotten terrible news.
Which, if that conversation was about what I thought it was, he hadn’t exactly received great news…
He stopped right in front of me. Very carefully, he dragged his gaze from his screen and up to my face. Our eyes met, and where I expected to see annoyance or frustration, maybe even anger, I saw a mixture of bemusement and confusion.
“Did you…” he trailed off, then rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Did you send my father a Cease and Desist?”
“Yes.” I nodded to punctuate it. “I sent you one, too, if you didn’t check your email yet.”
What the hell? Might as well put it out there.
His mouth opened and closed. Dropping his attention to his phone, he licked his lips and swiped at the screen with his thumb. “So you did,” he said, surprise flitting across his face. “That’s…random? Strange? Confusing?”
It was?
“It is?” Now, I was frowning.
“Yes.” He looked back at the email as if he didn’t understand what he was reading. “What is it for? Is this because—Dahlia, I’m lost. Completely lost.”
Confused.
I was very, very confused.
Did he—oh my God. Didn’t he know his dad had been offering formally for the bar?
What the hell?
“I don’t think this is the right place for this conversation.” I hopped off my high seat, clutching my purse, and reached for his hand. It felt so natural, that even as I pulled him along, it didn’t seem right to let go.
Apparently, he felt the same, because he adjusted his hand to wrap his fingers around mine.
I pulled him right out onto the sidewalk and down a few buildings to where a quiet—thankfully clean—alleyway was tucked away. It was the back route to Scarlet, and one I’d taken as a teen when I’d crept out during some of my office work shifts during my one-month-long rebellious phase.
“Did you drive here?” I asked Damien, letting go of his hand when we reached the tiny parking lot tucked behind the bar. Parking lot was generous—it was four spaces.
“No. I walked over from Goldies.”
“Get in.” I nodded toward my car and unlocked it. My red Jaguar was sleek and shiny thanks to a valet while I’d been working.
Damien got in the car after me. I waited until he’d buckled up before pulling away and sliding into the Vegas traffic.
“All right,” he said when we came to a traffic standstill. “What’s going on?”
I took a deep breath and tapped a light beat to the bottom of the steering wheel. “Those notices weren’t random, Damien.” I glanced at him. “My lawyer called me about half an hour before Fergus told me you were at the bar. Your father made a formal offer for The Scarlet Letter. His second one today.”
“His second one today?”
“Mhmm.” I couldn’t help the pursing of my lips. “The first I was notified of via email at eight this morning. The second warranted a phone call. That’s four formal offers altogether from him alone and not counting the calls and inquiries, according to my lawyer. So, now, if he makes a fifth offer…” I left him to finish that sentence.
“Right. I understand that, but I haven’t made any formal offers. So, why did you send me a Cease and Desist?”
I shrugged my shoulder. “Killed two birds with one stone. Now, legally, you’ve been warned against talking about buying my business.” My smile was a little too gleeful, but I couldn’t help it.
“I might as well get out of the car now. What else are we supposed to talk about? Apart from me pinning you down and putting my face between your legs, of course.”
“Wait, why do I have to be pinned down? Can’t I pin you down instead?”
“Only if you’re willing to sit on my face.” He paused. “And then slide right down to my cock.”
