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“You should have a discussion in private before I can agree and disagree on some terms,” she said. “I’ll join you as soon as you’re done.”
I prepared myself in the car and smiled at the confused look of the assistant who escorted me to the devil’s office once I stepped out of the private elevator. Why were they looking at me like that? I had checked my makeup, and it was perfect. Even my curls were shining.
“Mr. Damon is closing an interview,” he said, pushing his glasses over his nose. He looked cute. “Would you like some tea? Coffee? Snacks?”
“Can I have a decaf with six espresso shots with two pumps of sweetener?” Pretty please?
He raised his brow a little and nodded. “Right away, miss.”
“Thank you! I like your glasses…” I checked the name tag on his suit and added, “Rahul.”
He smiled. “Thank you.”
We both turned our heads to Damon’s office door when someone squealed before the door opened. I took in a sharp breath when I saw a beautiful woman with long legs walking out of his office. She was sobbing, her perfect makeup staying in place as she cried out, “I hate you! I hope you die with blue balls!” over her shoulder before stumbling away on her heels.
“Should we help her?” I mumbled, touching my chest and trying to calm my pounding heartbeat. I knew Damon was as ruthless in his business as he was in real life, but I didn’t know he made pretty girls cry.
“It’s okay. That’s the third interview of the day, and it’s nothing new,” Rahul replied. “Come on, it’s your turn.”
I braced myself when he knocked on the door with a shiny label that read, CEO Damon Grant.
“Enter,” came a brusque reply.
I clenched my hand in a fist and stepped in.
14
NO REGRETS
DAMON
I scrolled through the tabloid, my jaw clenching at the pictures of me and Summer. I had already sued the photographer and the reporter with defamation, and even though they took the article down, she was trending on all the social media.
Of course, they didn’t target me because I’m a rich, white man, but they were calling her slurs here and there and I hated it.
Someone knocked on the door and entered before I could reply.
“I’m here to be the ambassador of Moore,” the woman said, keeping her hand on her hips as she strutted in.
Rahul, my assistant, winced at me. “I’m sorry. I told her not to enter, but she didn’t listen.”
The woman in the mini dress rolled her eyes and made herself comfortable sitting across from me. “Oh, whatever. I have everything you need for the Moore Beauty.”
I nodded at Rahul and kept my tablet aside and once he left, I leaned back on the chair and asked, “And what is that, Miss…?”
“Elaine,” she said with a smile, and stood up. I eyed her face as she walked around my desk, swiveling my chair towards her. “But you can call me anything you want.”
I raised my brow when she touched my arm and whispered, “I have the perfect face and body, Mr. Damon.”
Before she could lower her long nails to my crotch, I stopped her. “If you touch me again, I will make sure there’s no future for your face or body, Miss Elaine.” I stood up and glared at her. “Now get the fuck out of my office before I call security.”
She shivered but moved her dark hair over her shoulder and said, “I’m just trying to—”
“Don’t try,” I cut her off and nodded at the door. “Get out.”
“Let me just give you a taste of what I can do for the company and you.” She kept up with her sultry voice, leaning closer so I could see through her cleavage.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry for whoever taught you that sexual favors will get you things on a silver platter, but in my company they won’t.” Tears sprung in her eyes, and I offered her a tissue that was on my desk. “Please leave before I ask security to take you out of this building.”
