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Butterflies kick at my insides and not only because of the man in front of me. I’m glad to have met a client on my own. I know it’s not a major client and that’s why he didn’t mind sending me, but his trust in me and my work ethic means something.
“Good,” I tease, lifting my shoulder up and down.
Damon smiles with his eyes. He doesn’t give me the usual laugh or smile that most people do. But his eyes do all the talking, the smiling.
He’s happy right now.
“Email me a summary. I have a meeting soon. Hold my calls.”
I nod even though I already know this. He likes to remind me from time to time how to do my job.
No matter. I’m in a good mood when I head out of the office with Marie and Emon for lunch today. Even the cold front that February brings can’t sour my mood.
Until late afternoon.
Damon’s meeting doesn’t go as well as mine did, if the shouting match is any indication. The screaming is coming from the client, not Damon.
Damon doesn’t have to revert to such emotions.
While our reports are as neutral as can be and are more guidelines than imperative rules per se, businesses don’t like the fact that the public can easily find out if they deviated from following environmental precautions.
Something that once didn’t seem important now begs for the questions to be answered.
Hence why many businesses hate Damon’s firm.
While Damon doesn’t do shouting, he does anger. He does anger so well it makes me want to lock his office door to keep him in. Because now the wolf is out to play and I’m the weak, vulnerable rat under his paw.
“Where’s that summary? Did you finish the report I sent you this morning?”
He throws off two more questions before heading back to his office. This time, I follow him and close the door behind me.
“What’s wrong with you?” I don’t know what makes me ask. Usually, I’d happily keep my mouth shut.
He turns on his heel, one brow arches up, and he looks genuinely confused by my question.
“Don’t take it personally, Gemma. I need the work to get done.” He walks in front of his desk and flips the pages of his agenda. “This is why we shouldn’t... now you can’t even take a simple order?”
“Simple order? Damon, you don’t need to bark orders atme for me to do top-quality work, okay? Don’t you dare bring that up. I know you’re my boss; you shouldn’t useusas an excuse to treat me like this...”
“Come here,” he says, tilting his head to gesture for me to go to him. I do, albeit reluctantly. When I’m right next to him, his eyes glimmer with mischief when he views my outfit before the darkness and numbness settles in again. “There is nous. I told you this.”
I’m hurt but I can’t show it.
“You know what I mean.”
Yesterday with Harvey, my heart ripped open. Today, it’s bleeding out.
I don’t know why it hurts much worse with Damon. Because it’s further rejection? Because I love spending time with him, even at work?
I don’t say anything else. I leave him be to finish that report. I already emailed him the summary of my meeting.
He’s given me two more reports to draft with many documents to read for each project. It means another late night and once again my text goes unanswered when I let Harvey know.
I’m clueless as to why I even bother anymore.
It’s thirty minutes past seven when I email Damon one of my reports. He left earlier today, and I wonder why.
I check his calendar before my office phone rings.
