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I don't bother looking up at her. “You’re treading on dangerous ground.”
“I'm trying to help you.” She sounds frustrated and upset, but she's just not getting it. If my brother manages to take my company from me, I never deserved to have it in the first place. But beyond any of that, my brother is not a better businessman than I am and no matter what dirty tactic he resorts to, he's not going to be able to take over my company.
She goes back to pacing and I find myself annoyed with her antics. Does she think that I don't know what he's doing? Does she think that I'm stupid or blind? My father made this company, but I'm the one that's been in the trenches every day, digging it out and building it up. I'm the one that has almost single handedly made it the success it is. And if she honestly thinks that I am concerned about Cameron, then she hasn't been paying attention.
She stops pacing for half a second and swivels her body to focus on me. “Why does he hate you so much?”
I have no idea why he hates me or why he feels such a right over toward me. The world is messy and not everyone just explains their reasoning. He feels like I don't deserve what I have. Or maybe he thinks dad's company should have gone to him. Perhaps he thinks that he's better than me, and legitimately thinks he could run this company better than I have or do.
“You'd have to ask him.” I'm tired of this run around she's giving me. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I'd like to focus on getting my work done for the day so that I can enjoy my time with Zoe later.
“He must have a reason. He must have told you something.” She's back to pacing while talking like a crime movie detective determined to break a case wide open. But there's nothing to break open; I don’t doubt this is simply a result of sibling rivalry, and he hates me because I'm his brother.
“I don't understand why you don't care about this.” She sounds even more frustrated, and I debate telling her to get out of my office. “Damien, you can't let him get away with this. You can't let him win.”
I stop and narrow my eyes at her, wondering if there's something she knows that I don't. With a deep sigh, I close my eyes and press my fingertips into my eyelids. “I'm not going to let him get away with anything.” I want to point out that she probably has work to do right now.
Felicity stares at me for a moment. “You seem different somehow. Happier.”
Well, that would make sense. I am happier. I've met someone who makes me happy. Even now, as I think about Zoe, a smile tugs the corners of my lips. I can't wait until all of this stress and pressure is over with so I can build a life with her, the life she deserves, and the life we both want.
“I met someone on the cruise.” As I say the words, her eyes widen, and her mouth opens into a perfect O of surprise.
“You met someone?” She sounds like she can't believe the news and all the fight seems to drain out of her.
I nod my head.
She seems to snap. “You know she’s probably after your money.”
I lift my eyebrows. What a horrendously awful thing to say. “Well, I certainly hope not. That would make things awkward.” I know Zoe isn't after my money; she is one of the few people who hasn't seemed to give a damn about it. Every step of the way, the only thing she's asked me for is my time. She doesn't want me to buy things for her. She's not asking for things. She doesn't suddenly have emergency bills she can't pay or any of the other manipulation tactics I’m used to watching out for. She genuinely enjoys my company.
“Oh, don't be naive, Damien.” She snaps the words at me, which is a surprise. There's more to her response than meets the eye, but I don't have the energy to decode her emotional response right now. “And don't you dare tell me you love her. You don't know her well enough to love her.”
Well, now I want to say the words just to annoy Felicity. I can't help but wonder where this is coming from, why she's so invested in my relationship with someone she doesn't know the first thing about. But her words do make me wonder if it's true; do I love Zoe?
I think about her smile and the way she makes me feel. I think about how much she has tried to help me learn the truth about my dad. I think about how every step of the way she's been nothing but supportive and kind. I think about her and my heart beats a little bit harder. I don't doubt her intentions. I don't wonder what she's after. She's perfectly transparent and has been every step of the way.
“I think you need to take a step back and focus on yourself and your company,” she says, turning to me and planting her hands on her hips. “And then maybe you can find love where you least expect it.”
“I am focused on myself and my company and my future and happiness.” I don't need her to tell me what I should do next. “Besides, I don't think you're in a position to give me love advice.”
As I say those words, she seems to deflate and walks over to the chair on the other side of my desk before sinking into it. Then, she seems to remember herself and sits upright, her back ramrod straight. “I know more about being in love than you think.”
I feel like those words are bait and I don't want to take them.
“Well, congratulations on whoever the lucky man in your life is.” The words seem like a safe, professional response. But, of course, nothing is ever that easy.
She smiles and reaches across the desk, putting her hand on mine. “It's you, Damien. You're the lucky man that I'm in love with.”
Without a word, I pull my hand out from under hers and open up the file in front of me, looking over the numbers and completely ignore what she's just said. “Thank you for bringing these reports by my desk,” I say, reading the numbers and expecting her to leave my office.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she asks. “I love you, Damien.”
“Felicity, I have a lot of work to do.” She has put me in an impossible position. I don't want to acknowledge what she said and damage our working relationship, but I can't help but feel that ship has sailed. “You are a wonderful assistant.” Maybe that gentle reminder will put her in her place and remind her that I'm her boss, not her boyfriend.
She doesn't even seem to process my words before there's a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I say.
