Part 5 (1/2)

”You're one of those people who arrive thirty minutes early to everything, aren't you?” His right brow curved upward into an inquisitive arch. It caused a wild stray hair to fall onto his forehead.

I resisted the urge to reach forward and push it back into place. No contact with Damien would be the safest for the s.h.i.+eld around my heart.

”Yep.” I chuckled and pointed my finger at him. ”But at least I'm squeaky clean around the house. That has to count for something, right?”

”Good point.” He joined in my mirth. His laughter was a stunning sound to my ears. It was infectious and the kind that made one smile just for being privy to hearing it.

”You should laugh more often,” slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

Maybe he did, and I just didn't know him well enough to know any better.

I regretted my comment instantly as Damien pressed his lips together and swallowed.

”Why is that?” he asked.

My fingers began to make work of what was left of my straw wrapper again, and I confessed, ”It makes you less intimidating.”

His expression turned to surprise. ”You find me intimidating?”

I felt my face heat. ”Very much so.”

The planes of his features hardened fractionally. ”Sometimes, there isn't much to smile and laugh about in life.”

I couldn't argue with him there, so I subtly nodded my head in agreement. Again, I grabbed my wine as a distraction. ”So, what about you? What are your strengths and weaknesses?” I questioned, disturbed by how eager I was to hear his answers.

Damien raised his hand and ran it back and forth across his jaw. I could tell he was thinking deeply.

”Well, with my companies, I have a canny ability to keep calm and delegate orders when the time calls for it. I have a bachelor's in business management, and it has served me extremely well thus far in life.”

”And your weaknesses?” I pressed in a teasing voice to maintain a light atmosphere.

”Oh, there are too many to list.”

There was no way I was going to let him off the hook so easily with his evasiveness, so I playfully narrowed my eyes at him. ”You're going to have to do better than that.”

He was quiet for a few moments, seeming lost in his own mind. Just when I finally thought he wasn't going to answer me, he told me, ”I constantly need to have control.”

His response should have unnerved me, but for some inexplicable reason, it didn't. Instead, it left me reeling, and I found myself wanting to crawl out of my isolated protective bubble as my curiosity about this mysterious man across from me increased.

I licked my lips and dug deep for my courage, staring straight into the depths of his grays. ”You need it or thrive on it?”

His eyes held mine captive. ”Need it. In all aspects of my life.”

That sounded like a loaded statement. Before I could process my thoughts, the waitress suddenly appeared with our meals and placed them in front of us. I was instantly grateful for the interruption because I wasn't sure of how to reply to his statement.

My chicken alfredo smelled divine, so I wasted little time in adding a dash of salt and pepper before diving into my meal. Damien and I fell into a comfortable silence as we began to eat. I found myself longing to learn more about him, but at the same time, I was equally apprehensive to do so. It was confusing, to say the least.

”So, are you originally from here?” he asked me in between bites.

”No.”

”Where's home then?”

I twisted my fork to twine the long noodles around the metal while pondering. The easiest explanation was that I didn't have one. My home was where I'd made it seven years ago with Iris here in Sarasota when my foster family had kicked me out of their house and left me to fend for myself. I had no idea where I was born or who my birth parents were, except my biological mother had left me a large amount of money in a bank account. I'd received it five years ago after she'd apparently pa.s.sed away. None of that would make good conversation over dinner.

”Here,” I finally answered, knowing that I was a walking contradiction of my last comment.

Damien must have agreed with my internal thoughts because his eyes darted up to mine. His face contorted in confusion. ”But you just said you're not from here.”

”I'm not.”

”But you just said...” He trailed off, as if waiting for me to clarify.

”I know.” I reached for my wine and sipped on it, needing it to soothe me. ”This is my home now, and that is all that matters. My past is of no importance,” I finished softly before biting my lower lip to keep it from trembling.

I was thankful that Damien didn't ask me to elaborate as we both resumed eating our meals. We switched to a more neutral conversation, talking about the erratic Florida weather, our favorite beaches, and the places we each dreamed of visiting someday in the future.

Other than sharing a common interest of the outdoors, I learned that we were actually complete opposites of one another. Damien loved to read business magazines while I preferred art-related ones. He religiously ran and worked out to keep in good shape while I sadly despised my treadmill or vigorous regimens. It seemed that he was an optimist, whereas I was a realist.

An hour pa.s.sed in the blink of an eye, and I was on my second gla.s.s of wine. I pinched my index finger and thumb around the stem and began to spin the gla.s.s within my grasp. This was starting to feel like Damien was getting his way, making this evening more of a date than a business meeting. It was time to cut to the chase.

”So, are you going to tell me why you asked me here, Damien?” I queried, repeating my earlier question. It was time to get this evening over with, so I could rush back home into my worry-free safe zone, away from the intimidating Damien Heathman.

He intently eyed me across the table, as though he were gathering his feelings and piecing them together, before he said, ”You said something to me in our conference meeting yesterday that changed my perspective.” He hesitated, looking straight at me.

The seriousness of his tone made me feel on edge as I wondered where this conversation was leading.

”And what was that?” I asked softly.

”You said that numbers never lie, and it made me contemplate where I want to go from here.”

”No, they don't,” I agreed truthfully. ”But I feel like you're talking in circles.”

”I'm sorry. That's not my intention.” He leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the table. Those grays stared into my greens, his sparkling from the glow of the fireplace. ”I need to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me.”

My pulse spiked, and my head was spinning. ”Okay,” I answered simply.

”Are you f.u.c.king him?”

”I beg your pardon?” My posture went rigid as I felt utterly caught off guard at his bluntness and arrogance. I was pretty sure my jaw had hit the table, too. But I still didn't understand what he meant or whom he was referring to. ”Am I f.u.c.king whom?” My tone was hard.

”Cale Adam.” My partner's name left his mouth, plagued with distaste.

My blood pressure ignited, and my body trembled with rage. Once again, I clamped my steel armor tight around my heart, locking it firmly in place. He has some b.a.l.l.s. I'll give him that.

I prided myself on being a lady with proper manners, but today, I would make an exception. Rising from my seat, I leaned forward to set my palms flat on the table, and I looked him square in the eyes. ”f.u.c.k you, Damien.”

His expression appeared shocked as I spun on my heels to make my escape. Damien managed to gently catch my arm before I had even made it three steps.

”Let go of me,” I hissed, spinning around on my heels to shove at his chest.