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“I’ll tell you why it’s special if you tell me about the painting...”
That gets the job done. His jaw ticks before he walks away.
“Let’s go.”
I button up my coat, knowing I ruined our moment. But I had to, because of what I so desperately want. Human needs make us very,veryselfish.
At Arrows, my genuine smile reappears. People are too drunk to notice that I’d rather be in my comfy clothes by now. Damonbuys me a beer, which I gratefully drink. I need it after working for him for over a week.
Not sure what that says about him.
A woody, sweaty smell clings to the air, while I feel the stickiness of the table beneath my elbows. I’m listening to a young woman talk my ears off about Damon. “I mean, it can’t be too hard working for him. I mean, look at him, right?”
I simply take a sip of my beer and remain silent. I don’t need to add details to the rumor mill. Besides, I don’t need to face the man to remember the smell that radiates off of him, the way his voice makes me want to drop to my knees, or the way his beauty invites me in like the sun.
Stop.
And I do. I remind myself of Harv and our time together and everything we’ve gone through.
Fight for him, Gemma. Harvey’s worth it.
“You look bored.” Marie elbows me, and, as if on cue, the other girl leaves.
“I’m not.”
“Okay,” she scoffs. “Another one?” Since I already took a drink, I know that I’ll be cabbing home anyway.
I nod and she gives me the peace sign before walking to the bar. A few other colleagues make their rounds introducing themselves, and then Marie and I spend time talking with Emon and others.
By the time I’m done with my third drink, I’m buzzed, yet not as crazy as all the others here tonight. Save for Damon. I’ve been watching him out of the corner of my eyes, talking with a few people, and he’s the epitome of self-control.
I bump into him when I leave the restroom.
“Sorry.”
“How are you getting home?” he calmly asks.
I shrug. “I’m taking a cab.”
“I’ll drive you.” The offer sounds appealing, but I don’t trustmyself in an enclosed space with him while I’m not sane and sober.
“Can’t... I have my car...” I realize I don’t make sense because I’ll be leaving the van here either way.
“My driver will take yours. You’ll come with me. That way you won’t have to come back for it tomorrow.” It’s a persuasive offer except it’s also a nice gesture, and coming from him I don’t trust it.
I step closer before he interrupts me.
“People will start leaving. In one hour meet me up front.”
An hour later, I say my goodbyes to Marie and Emon, who were so drunk out of their minds with the rest of the lot, I don’t think they even noticed me waving at them.
Finally, with my coat around me and the heated seats of Damon’s Tesla, I can finally ask him what I meant to ask earlier.
“Why are you being nice to me?”
“How am I being nice?”
His black matte watch catches my eye. “Well... you’re not driving anyone else home.” I turn around to the backseat to make my point.
