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A throat clears, and then Chuck’s being dragged across the entryway and out the door by his silk tie.
Brandi calls from the hallway, “We’ll see you two downstairs.”
“Wait!” I holler back, not wanting to be left alone with Damon, but the door is shut, and they’re already gone.
I shift on my heels, clasping my hands behind my back so I don’t try to climb the man like a tree.
Being with Damon isn’t awkward. It’s being with Damon and trying to not be undeniably attracted to him that’s awkward.
“You’re a dream, Kate,” he says deeply, sincerely, and undoubtedly. As if speaking to me that way bears no consequence on the softening of my heart.
“It was clearance,” I blurt as if somehow that will change the way he’s studying me.
“Should have known that tab was a little light.” A tilt of his head and then, “Flying to foreign islands, stealing beach chairs, bargain shopping on someone else’s dime… Do you ever do what you’re told?”
“Sometimes.”
Rarely.
I wish he’d just said I did a good job with the dress and that he can’t wait for this evening to be over. But he doesn’t say either of those things. Instead, his hazel eyes darken as he takes one hand and splays it across my cheek.
He tsks. “Naughty girl.”
For the rest of my days, those two words will be on a never-ending loop in my brain.
Distance, we need distance.
But then Damon sweeps his thumb under my eye, revealing a stray fleck of mascara resting innocently on the pad when he pulls away.
“Thank you,” I whisper too breathily.
Taking a generous step toward the door, I ask, “So, what’s our game plan?”
He follows me, smiling a lazy smile that knocks a few years off his appearance. “We’re going to kiss some asses, drink some champagne, and by the end of the night, you and I are going to have Patrick wrapped around our fingers.”
Damon sticks his pinky finger between us, giving it wiggle.
I stare at the digit. “Why is this promotion so important to you?”
It’s his turn to break our one-word answer stigma. “Because I’ve spent the better part of my adult life believing that I’m not good enough, and this is my chance to change that.”
I gaze up, all at once seeing unrestrained vulnerability staring back at me.
“You don’t have to do anything or be anyone you don’t want to be, alright? Just be Kate.”
Just be Kate.
With a slow-building smile, I wrap my pinky finger around his.
“I think I like the sound of that.”
* * *
Brandi and I lean against the cool railing of Patrick Vance’s yacht. We drift along the coast, close enough that we can still see the city sparkling from the shore, but far enough that it’s peaceful and quiet.
“Look at that little hussy,” she mutters over the rim of her champagne flute.
Warm, glowing lights zigzag across the wooden deck, highlighting the opening of a small bar. A man serves two glasses of champagne to Damon while Vedant’s girlfriend leans over the counter on an elbow, laughing hysterically.
