“Yes?”
“I’ll have a car pick you up in a couple of hours from your parents’ place. Be ready. I’ll meet you at my dad’s.”
“Is that wise?”
“You need to acclimate to the intensity of what we’re up against.” He looked down his nose at me. “A change of scenery from spending your days in the lap of luxury.”
“My gilded cage. Lucky me.” I pushed to my feet. “I want to go to Vanguard.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He looked thoughtful. “If you perform to a satisfactory level this evening, I will consider taking you with me to Vanguard. Now sit and finish your breakfast.”
I sat back down immediately, tingling with expectancy as his dominance vibrated through me, my nipples beading at the way he’d barked that order. Why did his voice have such a primal effect on me?
Damien watched my reaction. “When you get home, pack a suitcase full of clothes. Something for every occasion.”
“Am I staying here again?”
“We need you ready for anything.” He pivoted and headed out.
A riot of morning sunlight surrounded me where there would one day be walls. Right now the structure was merely a husk and I felt a gut-wrenching panic that work had stopped abruptly on the Fairfield project.
How quickly life goes tits-up.
I’d been on a high since I’d awoken this morning, knowing Pandora was in my bed. Watching her sleep had been sublime.
We’d taken an important step forward with an authentic evening getting to know each other on an entirely new level—an evening spent in a dungeon that clung to my psyche as only a taste of perfection can. Truly, those were the best hours we’d spent together.
Here, now, was as low as it could get—some fucker had shut down construction.
A voice boomed from across the vastness. “Thank you for coming.”
Blinking through the dust, I turned to see the construction supervisor Al Shaffer, who approached me wearing a hard hat.
He gave a friendly wave. “Mr. Godman, a minute.”
Walking carefully along what would one day be a foyer, I joined him out on the street.
“Guess you heard we received a notice to close down all construction this morning,” he said.
I nodded. “Just glad no one’s been injured.”
“Nothing like that.”
“Who told you to shut down?”
“It came from your father’s office.”
Had I misheard him?
Hiding my reaction, I gave his hand a shake with the reassurance we’d be back on track by this afternoon. Getting this affordable housing off the ground—along with the adjacent after-school program—would be one of my proudest accomplishments. This place would inspire the youth who lived here. My ego told me we’d be making the sports champions of the future, giving kids the chance for a better life. Or at least produce a lifetime of friendships out of this forward-thinking setting.
Back in the car, I shot off an urgent text to Theo to schedule time with my dad. It was imperative I delivered the news before the press got word.
I drove to my father’s place in a blur.
Making it into the offices in record time, I braced for his reaction when he heard someone was interfering with my project. No doubt I’d have to face a barrage of questions that I wouldn’t have the answer to. Who the hell had shut it down?
Theo cut me off in the hallway. “Damien, he has a meeting. Can’t be interrupted. Walk with me.”
I followed him away from my father’s office, more out of politeness than anything. Theo worked around the clock to ensure Dad’s schedule went smoothly. Making his job easier was a courtesy.
I respected Tamer. Usually his judgment was as solid as it got.
He was also a member of Vanguard and we’d experienced some stellar times together at the society. Late nights spent at that place had seen us bonded like brothers. The secrets we kept were enough to destroy empires.
But apparently even Theo couldn’t rush me in to see Senator Godman on a day like this—even though he was my fucking dad, for God’s sake.
When we made it to a private office space, he asked, “Any updates?”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
He cringed. “Consider how you’re going to broach the subject.”
“Why?”
“The Senator is conflicted with the situation.”
“What does that mean?” With rising annoyance, I took in the round table and chairs in the room, remembering all the crisis meetings that had taken place here. I’d attended many of them as our team had strategized, putting out fires and lighting some, too.
It was me being handled in here now.
“We need to control the optics,” he said.
I stared at him, finally realizing the truth. “Did my dad shut us down?”
“Damien, let’s talk this through.”
“Years.” I clenched my fists. “I’ve been working on this for years.”
“I get it,” he said, lowering his voice. “Providing houses for lower income families was important to you.”
“You do realize you’re using the past tense, right, Theo?”
“There are many charitable projects that are important to your dad. You can get on board with those.”
“This was mine! The project had the public’s approval. This is what I brought to the table.” I rubbed my hand over my face, barely suppressing my fury. “Why shut it down?”
“Maybe this is a wise choice? We throw money at it…make it go away.”
“Why? What happened?”
“There was some other interest in the land.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m still in this fight.”
“I’ll do everything I can to turn his decision around.”
“He listens to you. Get me in that room.”
Theo shook his head. “Your father has meetings all morning.”
“Why do I feel like he’s avoiding me?” I headed for the door. “I’m going to see him.”
“Not yet.”
I was suddenly curious as to why Theo didn’t want me to see my dad. It was more than annoying—it was suspicious.
“Who’s in there with him?” I studied his reaction.
“Twelve years we’ve been friends. I’ve dedicated myself to your family,” he said softly.
“What are you insinuating? Your hands are tied? That whoever intercepted my project is unscrupulous.”
“You’re the only man I trust in this town, Damien.”
What the hell was his point here?
“We’re as close as two men can get,” he added.
“Why, because you’ve seen my dick?”
“And a very nice dick it is.”
I ignored his retort. “You know how important this is to me.”
“I will always be in your corner. You know that.” Theo always had a way of calming me. “I’ll put this on your dad’s desk as a top priority. See what I can do to get this decision reversed.”
“How could someone persuade him to do this to me?”
“No comment.”
“I get it,” I said, raking my fingers through my hair. “You can’t serve two masters.”
“Right.”
“Do you have a cigarette?”
“You gave up smoking, didn’t you?”
“No comment.”
“I gave it up because you gave it up.” He slapped his arm, where I assumed a nicotine patch was stuck to his bicep. “That’s why I’m wearing this shit. This was your fucking idea.”
“The patch made me antsy.” I shuddered to make my point. “Do you have a cig in your office for emergency purposes?”
“You’re going to have to learn to not smoke during tough times, too.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
“You don’t want to set off the fire alarms.”
“Fuck it.”
I stormed off to find someone who was mor
e agreeable, stopping in my tracks when I saw people walking out of my father’s office. Amongst them, strolling confidently in four inch high heels and a pencil skirt was Helen King. I didn’t need to see her face to recognize the fifty-something brunette who’d made my life hell.
Three weeks ago, her lawyers had called mine and made me an offer for the land where my affordable housing was going to be built.
Interesting timing.
Peering through the open doorway into my father’s office, I saw him sitting behind his desk surrounded by staff, no doubt discussing the meeting he had just had with her.
“Godman, no!” Theo warned.
Heading on in, I said, “Dad, got a minute?”
He looked hassled. “Not a good time.”
I forced a polite smile. “Everyone out, please.” All it took was a wave of my hand and the men left the room.
The last man closed the door on his way out.
“Why do I feel like you’re avoiding me?” I didn’t care to sit.
“You know what it’s like being out on the trail. I’m here for a few days to regroup before heading out again.”
“Did you hear what happened?”
“Fairfield?” He leaned back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “I know it meant a lot to you.”
Shouldn’t he be more pissed off? More reactive instead of sitting back and looking like I was wasting his time?
“Did you shut it down?” I stepped forward and leaned on his desk, knuckles white as my fingers curled.
“After this election we’ll explore the possibility of proceeding with your efforts again.”
“I’m not stepping away. Not after all this work.”
He pushed to his feet and rounded the desk. “We’ve worked too hard for too long to let a small detail like this trip us up.”
“People are depending on that housing.”
“You can’t fight every battle. We have to choose carefully—”
“What is more important than this? We’re talking about kids, here.”
“You need to take a couple of days off.”
I threw my hands up in frustration. “The work on the foundations has begun.”
“This is hard on you. I get that.”
I fought the old urge to let Dad convince me defeat was the only way.
“Sorry, son. Look, I have another meeting. You know how grueling my schedule is.”
I headed to the door, turning back to look at him before opening it. “Was it Helen King who shut me down? I just saw her leaving your office.”
“She’s one of our biggest donors.”
“No! Dad…”
He wouldn’t do this to me. Not to his son. I’d dedicated my life to his ambitions.
A knock at the door distracted him. “Come in,” he shouted.
Theo peered in. “Sir, your 11:00 A.M. is here.”
Dad looked vaguely apologetic. “We’re out of time, son. Let’s pick this up next week.”
My back stiffened. “Next week will be too late.”
I was being unceremoniously ushered out. With my pride decimated I gave a respectful nod and walked through the door Theo was holding open.
Once the door had closed behind us, I glared at my friend. “How can this not be a priority for him? How could he not fight for me?”
“He’s got a lot to deal with, Damien.” He clutched my shoulder. “I’m assuming he told you to take a few days off. I think that’s a good idea.”
“What will I say to the construction crew? What will it make me look like?”
“Cathy’s on this,” he said. “Your dad’s executive director has everything covered.”
“No. This is my mess. I’ll clean it up. I’ll reach out to everyone.”
Theo gave a shrug. “Your dad needs you at one hundred percent. No distractions.”
This wasn’t about money. It was about political leverage. My father had sold me out for influence. If Helen King was involved, a deal had been brokered in private. She was a brilliant strategist, but her price was always way too high.
Adrenaline surged through my blood. This betrayal would never go away.
Theo was watching me carefully. “Need a minute?”
I straightened, making a mental vow to put this right. “Stall for me. That place is getting built or there’ll be blood spilt.”
Theo went to speak but thought better of it. Instead, he motioned for us to head toward a quiet corner. “How are things with Pandora?”
“If you’re going to change the subject at least be less obvious.”
He smirked.
I zeroed in on what he was insinuating. “Things are fine. Why?”
“Did you talk to her about the key pendant?”
That’s right. Theo had seemingly tried to protect my innocent fiancée back at the St. Regis last night.
I gave a casual shrug. “The pendant was a gift. She had no idea.”
“Damien, I know what I saw.”
“What was that?”
“A Vanguard clavis.”
“Now’s not the time.”
He moved closer. “She knows you’re a member.”
“When did you talk with her?”
“Half an hour ago. You invited her here. You had a car bring her over from her parents’ place.”
“Where is she?” I asked.
“The kitchen. She wanted to know more about Vanguard.”
“What did you tell her?”
“To discuss it with you.”
“What’s she doing in the kitchen?”
“She knows the chef. This isn’t her first time here.”
Cringing, I recalled all those times we’d sat together here during our family functions over the last few months, while I mostly ignored her. Having treated her that way felt abhorrent to me now.
My annoyance softened. “If and when I decide she’s ready for Vanguard, you’ll be the first to hear about it.”
“Not all the fun’s at Vanguard.”
“True.”
And I had been thinking of exploring more of her erotic side. I’d told her that this morning.
“Tell me what you need,” he said, seeming to read my mind.
No wonder he had women lining up to be his subs. A slew of wannabees never to be sated by the bad boy of Vanguard. He was just too selective.
I walked backwards offering him a grin of mischief to rile him up.
“Seriously?” he asked, grinning back at me, his interest piqued.
Damn it, I was stressed out and Pandora was desperate to begin her erotic awakening. If not now, when? My life had derailed. I needed to play dirty like I needed oxygen.
“Think you can deliver?”
He gave me a quick nod of conviction. “The Ritz-Carlton. 7:00 P.M. Black-tie. Private suite.”
My brows arched in interest. “Text me the room number.”
With that confirmed, I walked away.
And reality returned to punch me in the gut.
Helen King was offering my father more than money for his campaign. She was probably promising him access to influence, too. That wily bitch wanted to build a shopping mall or high-end apartments on the site that was mine. She had set her sights on a billion-dollar profit.
God, this town was ruthless.
Turning this around seemed impossible—but I had to do it.
It was an interesting state to be in—I was filled with wrath for Helen King and lust for tonight’s willing victim.
I headed off to find the lovely Pandora.
Placing the thinly sliced Swiss chocolate rolls around the edge of the mousse, I showed the Godman’s chef, Thomas Davenport, how this dessert was finished off—a mouthwatering chocolate torte I’d learned to create back when I’d attended those intense cooking classes at school for ladies who intended to entertain.
The Godmans’ master chef had sat on a barstool at the kitchen counter watching me with his chin resting on his hands. He could see I was whipping up so
mething super special for him.
Thomas’ dreadlocks were the mark of his proud heritage, the gray at his temples adding wisdom to his joyful eyes. This wasn’t the first time I’d snuck down here during a visit to see him. I was always guaranteed to be welcomed with kindness—and enjoy a good laugh because he was as funny as hell.
Having once worked at the White House for the President, Thomas had a bunch of riveting stories to share. He’d grown up in New Orleans and taught himself to cook before talking his way into a job at The Ponchartrain Hotel, an historic gem in the Garden District.
Being with him was a welcome break from all of the stuffiness upstairs—an escape from the staffers coming and going and the tension that went along with the daily running of a senator’s office.
Damien strolled in with a serious expression on his handsome face.
An hour ago, Theo had told me Damien was on his way in from downtown and was hoping to get a meeting with his dad. I wondered how it had gone.
Memories flooded in again of what we’d done together in his dungeon last night, and I had to tear my gaze away from his.
“Hey.” I pointed proudly. “Look what I made.”
Thomas straightened up from the countertop. “Ms. Bardot’s teaching me some mean tricks with Swiss chocolate, Mr. Godman.”
“You can call him Damien,” I said.
“Sure can,” Damien said as he reached for the dessert knife. “You do realize that Mr. Davenport is a Michelin chef?”
“Of course I know.”
Damien threw him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure Thomas can top this any day.”
“Pandora’s a great cook,” Thomas said warmly.
“Allow me, sir,” said Damien as he cut off two slices, sliding the plate over to him. “Good luck.”
“Hey.” I punched Damien’s arm playfully.
As Thomas tasted the creamy mousse his face lit up. “I better watch out for my job.”
Damien tasted the confection. “You’re hired, Ms. Bardot. Let’s start you off with washing dishes.”
“No way,” Thomas defended me. “She’s my new pastry chef.”
I gave him a bright smile, excited that such a renowned chef had enjoyed my dessert.
Damien offered his thanks to Thomas for being my company. With a nod of his head, he indicated I was to follow him out.
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