I got lucky that Damien helped me at 4:59 PM because if he hadn’t, I would’ve been on the street for the night. My lease had ended at my other place, and I was going to get kicked out unless I got this apartment.
I also needed this apartment because it was the only decent place I could afford. The owner had been relocated for work and needed to sell it as quickly as possible to use the money as a down payment on his new place
So I got a deal.
I needed as many deals as I could get…
I spent the evening with the TV on in the background while I unloaded and unpacked all the boxes that comprised of my life. It was all my clothes and personal possessions, and when I saw it all packaged up, I realized my life was just a small accumulation of junk.
I spent my best years with my ex-husband, filling my life with memories that made me feel rich. Losing him made me realize I’d lost everything else too. I lost my friends, social acquaintances, relationships…everything. He was the rich and powerful one, so even though our divorce was entirely his fault, they chose him over me.
What a fairy tale.
I tried not to feel bad for myself because I knew I would pick up the pieces and come out stronger in the end. I could start over. I’d done it before. I’d do it again. Getting married, though…not sure if I could ever do that again.
It’d been six months since we signed the divorce papers, so it was still raw but there had been a good amount of time for us to move on.
But he continued to call me.
As if he could read my thoughts, my phone lit up with a phone call from him.
I watched it ring on the table, the light filling my dark apartment. I was never enticed to answer. Damage was done. I’d already moved on.
It went to voice mail.
I kept unpacking.
A minute later, my screen lit up with a text message.
It was Liam. Talk to me.
I ignored him.
Anna.
I had gotten a new phone and changed my number, but he still tracked me down. I blocked his number, but that only made him show up on my doorstep instead. He hadn’t moved on, and he had this ridiculous notion in his head that he might be able to win me back.
Never.
When his text messages kept coming in, I turned off my phone so I wouldn’t have to see or hear it.
I worked at a bistro in the city, a casual place with a couple tables in a small restaurant. It wasn’t a fine-dining experience, mainly a common place for lunch. The menu mostly consisted of sandwiches and salads, and our very delicious tiramisu.
I knew it was delicious because I ate it all the time.
I’d just finished delivering food to a table when a previously empty table was taken by a new customer. I pulled out my notepad and pencil and smoothed down my apron before I approached the stranger.
When I was almost there, I lifted my gaze and looked into the eyes of someone I already knew.
Masculine features, intense eyes, and a rough jaw all made up the man looking at me. With his Omega watch on his wrist, his arms out on the table, and his shiny shoes noticeable next to his chair, he made the restaurant stink of cash. He looked at me with fearless eyes, ready for whatever reaction I was about to have to him.
It took me a few seconds to process what had just happened. It was the suit from the bank, the guy who helped my transaction go through. He pitied me, which was obnoxious. He probably thought I was some poor, weak girl who would be impressed by his fat wallet.
I was only impressed by a fat dick.
I held the pencil to the notepad. “What can I get you?”
He glanced at the menu for a second before he turned back to me. “Coffee. Black.” He handed the menu to me. “And the seasonal salad.”
I tucked the menu under my arm and walked away.
“I know you recognize me.”
I should keep walking and not give in to his comment, but I was a temperamental woman who became irrational quickly. I turned back around and approached him with one hand on my hip. “No, I don’t.”
He smiled in an amused way. “Come on, I’m a handsome guy.”
“It’s nice that you think so.” I turned around and walked away again. I tended to my other tables and pretended he didn’t exist. Even though he’d caught me off guard, I managed to appear indifferent to his visit.
When his coffee was ready, I grabbed it from the barista and carried it to his table. I leaned down as I set it in front of him. “Here you are, sir. Your lunch will be ready soon.” I straightened next to the table and continued to pretend to be unaffected by his surprise visit. After I’d walked out of his office, I hadn’t thought about him again. Yes, he was a good-looking man, but it took more than that to catch my attention.
He spoke before I walked away. “It’s Damien. You can drop that sir bullshit.”
“I call all my customers sir.”
He smiled. “Even the chicks?”
I perfected my posture and held myself rigidly as I looked down at this arrogant man. He was witty and smart, like being good-looking wasn’t enough. The man had everything…which was annoying. “Do you stalk all your clients?”
“Having lunch constitutes stalking?” He grabbed the mug by the handle and took a quick drink, the steam rising past his face before he licked his lips and returned it to the saucer. When he moved his arm, his fancy cuff links were noticeable, looking more expensive than all my jewelry combined. He was another rich pretty boy, the kind that thought he could get away with anything…just like my ex-husband.
“If you aren’t here to see me, I’ll get back to work.” Before he could say another word, I walked off and took care of the rest of my tables as if he didn’t exist.
I hooked my apron on the back wall and clocked out. My hair was pulled out of my ponytail so my strands could be free. One of the things I hated about working with food was having to keep my hair back. Most of the time, the restraint was too hard, and it gave me a headache. So, the second I could, I let my hair go free…even if there was a crease in it.
I left the room with my purse over my shoulder and headed to the door.
Damien was still there. His eyes followed my movements, and when he saw me focused on the door, he rose to his feet and got to the entryway first. He opened the door wide, acting like a gentleman. When he was out of the chair, it was clear how tall he was. I’d never noticed because he was sitting behind the desk during our first interaction. With one hand on the door, he stared at me as he waited for me to cross the threshold.
In defiance, I stopped and stared at him, annoyed by the chivalrous act.
My annoyance seemed to amuse him because he gave a slight smile that reached his eyes. He had very strong, masculine features, eyes full of warning and a jawline so sharp it could cut glass, but when he smiled like that, he had a boyish innocence.
I stepped outside and joined him on the sidewalk. “Thank you.” I forced out the sentiment because it would be unacceptable to be impolite. I was annoyed that he was following me around, but at least he was being a nice guy.
Damien moved beside me and joined me on my walk to my apartment. He slid his hands into the pockets of his slacks, sticking out compared to all the casual people on the sidewalk. He looked like a man who didn’t walk anywhere because he had a private driver at his beck and call. “Want a ride home?”
I stopped in my tracks and stared at him. “Damien, how can I help you?” I had only had one interaction with him that was strictly professional, and now he was trying to take me home. “I used your services at the bank under the assumption you would respect my privacy. Instead, you come to my place of work, and now you’re walking with me as if we know each other. It’s inappropriate.” Maybe I was being harsh, but he’d abused his power.
With his hands still in his pockets, his body pivoted toward me, and he stared at me with a cold expression. His boyish charm was gone, and now there was a terrifying coldness about him. His eyes didn’t blink as they looked into mine, and he held the silence like he thrived in it. “I’ve never done this before.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
He slowly raised an eyebrow, and that serious expression deepened into a terrifying one. “I can get a woman anywhere, anytime. I don’t need to follow a client like this to get a date.”
“So, I’m supposed to be flattered?” I asked sarcastically.
“A little.”
I rolled my eyes before I started to walk again.
Instead of that being the end of our conversation, he caught up with me. “Annabella.” My name rolled off his tongue so well, so elegant when spoken in his masculine tone.
The sound got me to stop walking, but I didn’t know why. “It’s Anna.”
He faced me again. “I prefer Annabella. Why would you want to shorten such a beautiful name?”
My mother had been the only one who liked to use my full name. Everyone else preferred the nickname. “I should get going. I’m already late.”
His eyes darkened like he knew I was lying. “I know what you’re going to say, but I’m going to ask anyway.”
When he’d dropped by the restaurant, I was annoyed because Liam had done that so many times. He assumed if he pestered me enough times, I might change my mind. Seeing another guy do the same thing brought back all those feelings of frustration. I had to remind myself that Damien wasn’t my ex-husband, that he couldn’t possibly understand where I was coming from.
He paused as he stared at me, taking in my features for a full minute before he continued speaking. “Let me take you out.”
I probably should have been flattered that a handsome, tall, muscular, rich guy came all the way down to my waitress job just to ask me out, but I wasn’t in the headspace to be flattered. I was still a mess from my divorce and particularly bitter about it. I was in my midtwenties and already divorced—my life wasn’t going well. “I’m not interested in dating right now.” I thought about giving him more of an explanation, but that shouldn’t be necessary. He knew I was divorced.
“Are you interested in fucking?” He asked the question with such confidence, it was obvious he had asked the same question before. With his straight shoulders thick and powerful, he held his body like a strong man who was nothing but muscle underneath that suit. He didn’t even blink as he asked something so blunt, like he had said worse things in his life.
“You just said you have no problem getting women, so you don’t need me for that.”
He took a step closer to me, bringing our bodies just inches from each other. His green eyes slightly shifted back and forth as he looked into mine. “True. But you’re the woman I wanna get.”
I’d been with other men since Liam, casual rendezvous that were just about physical satisfaction. The first few were awkward because I was getting used to being with someone else besides my husband. The others were fine, but not great. The best I’d ever had was Liam, and I was disappointed I couldn’t find anyone to replace him. Damien would probably be the same. “I’m not in the right place right now.”
His eyes dimmed in disappointment. “I’m not asking anything from you. No expectations, no commitments, no explanations. I am kinda going through something myself…and I’m in a pretty dark place. I understand how you feel.”
That was the first thing he’d said that actually intrigued me. I’d felt alone in this because I lost everyone close to me. I didn’t have any friends, relatives… I was on my own. It would be nice to have someone…a friend. “You’re divorced?”
“Pretty much.”
“You’re either divorced, or you’re not.”
“I said no explanations.”
Now, I was more intrigued. “I may be bitter about my divorce, but I won’t be with a man who’s made a commitment to someone else. I won’t be the other woman. That’s nonnegotiable.”
“Then we have no problem. I have no commitments.”
I stared at him with slight confusion because I wasn’t sure what I’d just agreed to. One moment I was walking away from him, and now I was talking about a physical relationship I had somehow entered into.
“So, I can call you some time, Annabella?” He spoke in that same deep voice, looked at me with those same deep eyes. When he was serious, he was so potent I could feel his energy in my blood.
“Yeah…I guess. Let me give you my number.”
“I already have it.” He turned and walked away.