by Lara Swann
It’s not that I don’t like any of that - but there’s something about being back at home, or crashing on Vicki’s couch, that makes it hard to focus on me sometimes.
Even with Jackson it was hard to share our little one-bed flat sometimes, but that felt more like mine at least, and I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed it. But here, right now? I’m totally independent, in my own space, doing my own thing.
A proper, working professional.
I didn’t know how much I craved that until I started working with Two-Bit Designs properly.
And I really hope I get to continue that.
There’s a stupid part of me that’s already dreading the end of this project - even though I know I should just be enjoying all the experience I’m getting right now. It’s pointless to think about something like that. I just never knew what it was like to have a permanent, consistent job - the security, the team, everything about it.
Part of me wonders whether I should have ever tried to pursue this - whether I should have just gone for the normal office job like everyone else I know. It’s a nagging voice I don’t like, but it’s there. I’m loving the design work more than I ever thought possible, but still…
If it doesn’t work out…if you don’t get a place…are you really going to want to go back to trying to make it work independently?
The loud ringing of my cell interrupts the thought and I reach for it with a grateful sigh.
“Ava! You haven’t answered any of my messages!” Vicki’s voice comes at me before I have a chance to say anything.
What was that about her not being able to distract me here, again?
It makes me smile ruefully. Not that I actually mind the distraction.
“Please tell me it’s because you’ve gone out on a wild bender and you’re living it up in NYC.”
I glance at my cell phone and see the notification for the five messages I hadn’t noticed. I forgot I put that on silent.
“Sorry, I’ve just been working on this tricky design—”
Her aggravated sigh comes back at me before I have a chance to finish.
“Avaaaa.”
“What?” I say with a smile. “I’m really enjoying it, Vicks. It’s amazing here—”
“There. In your hotel room.”
“Well, yeah.” I look around. “It’s a pretty nice hotel room. Real fancy.”
“Yeah, I know. You sent pics. What I haven’t seen enough pics of is the actual city and I’m starting to get terribly afraid that you’re not going to do anything at all while you’re there.”
“We’ve done plenty.” I laugh. “I sent you some pictures of the Statue of Liberty - and Times Square - and—”
“Yeah, on Tuesday. Since then,you’ve been in your room working when you could be out exploring! Have you even looked at the list I sent you of cool places to go? It’s Thursday night, Ava, you’re flying back in two days!”
“I told you this was a work trip, Vicki. Indivest wouldn’t have paid for us all to come this way if we were just going to spend the whole time partying - and, really, I’m loving it. I’ve never had this kind of experience before and it’s amazing work. I’m doing it because I want to.”
“Can’t you want to go out, too? For me, if nothing else?”
The despair in her voice makes me smile and I know she’s just putting it on to push me. For some reason, Vicki has always seemed to worry that if she’s not around, I won’t do anything at all.
“C’mon, it’s been great - I’ve been out plenty. I’ve had fancy dinners with the team every night, lots of nice places, Vicki. We all went out on our first night here to see all the main attractions - and I’m making contacts with a whole new set of designers, doing work I absolutely love for the first time ever. Really, there’s nothing more I could possibly want.”
She sighs, but I can feel her start to relent on the other end of the phone. As much as she likes to exclaim about all these things, she knows I’m not exactly like her.
“How’s the exam prep?” I change the subject.
“Boring.” She says, dismissing it with the one word. “But, okay, okay. If you promise me you’re having some fun, right?”
“I’m having the best time. I promise. I wouldn’t want to go out on a crazy partying streak anyway, you know, no matter how good it might be in NYC. That sort of thing is fine for when I’m at home but I’m trying to make a good impression here, remember? I’m not even drinking. I need to be able to do a good job.”
Vicki gasps. “You’re going out for all these fancy meals and you’re not even drinking?!”
I laugh. “Fancy meals can be just as good without the alcohol, you know. I don’t think I’ve had more than half a glass of wine since I got here - I’d be too scared of saying something stupid and screwing things up.”
She groans on the other end of the phone.
“You know what, I think I might just stop trying to give you advice. I think you’re too far gone for me.”
“You’ve just never actually liked your job.” I point out. “Working isn’t always just this tedious thing you have to get through to have fun.”
There’s a pause and for a moment I wonder whether that didn’t go down quite the same way our teasing banter usually does - but then she responds in her usual way and I relax again, wondering whether I’m even starting to over-think things with Vicki now.
“If you say so.” She says, in a deliberately skeptical tone, before changing the subject. To her favorite pet topic, of course. “How about Hot-Sex-Guy then? Is he at all these fancy dinners? Please tell me you at least have some fun gossip for me there.”
I laugh, shaking my head even though she can’t see it. “Not much - he’s been at one, but I’m mostly out with just the design team. I don’t know where he and his business partner…Katy, I think her name is…I don’t know where they get dinner. We are just an agency, you know, not exactly part of their company.”
“Awww.” Her disappointed tone is obvious. “I was hoping that maybe…you know…a few after-dinner drinks as a team…a bit of conversation—”
“I’m trying not to drink, remember?”
“Ohh, I’m sure you’d make an exception if he was offering.”
“Well, he’s not.” I say, rolling my eyes. “Nice fantasy Vicki, but believe me - that ship has sailed. From what I’ve heard, he’s having plenty of fun, and none of it’s with me.”
Something I’ve been trying not to think about too much. If anyone is taking Vicki’s advice about making the most of being in New York, I think it’s Damien. Sure, from what I can tell he’s been working too - he’s had more than a few meetings with Tina and George, the head of Prestige’s design team - and we’ve seen him around enough. But we’ve all heard about the way he’s been enjoying New York and the nights out he’s been on.
“Hmmm?” Vicki says, obviously catching onto that. “Now that sounds like the fun gossip I was asking for. Why haven’t I heard about this before, then?”
Despite knowing where she’s coming from, I can feel my expression wrinkle. Yeah, I guess it’s exactly what Vicki was looking for, but for some reason it just doesn’t feel like the other casual gossip or stories we might laugh over together. Which is probably why I haven’t mentioned it before.
“Because there’s not really all that much to say.” I say instead, not quite wanting to admit that to her. “Just rumors circulating about how late he’s been out, whether or not he’s a little hungover in the morning - and how much the New York girls are crazy for all that hot charm he has going on. It’s all rumor, but considering some of the guys talking about it have actually seen him out, I’m pretty sure it’s all true too. Apparently, Damien likes to party, he’s in New York for the first time…and he’s found plenty of people to have fun with.”
I try to shrug it off. There’s no reason for any of that to bother me - and, in fact, the more time I’ve spent at Indivest, the more I’ve heard about that side of him. It shouldn’t surpr
ise me either, considering how we met. No, nothing about this should be a problem.
“Mm…” Vicki hums, obviously considering, and I wonder how many of those feelings she can pick up on, even from across the country. This is why I didn’t want to talk about it. “I bet none of those girls are you, though. Can’t blame a guy for wanting to have a good time, but you know it’d be you if he could.”
My expression twists at the idea - and the ignorance of her casual comments.
“No, I mean it, Vicki - he’s moved on. The one dinner we did have altogether was the only one we did get a few drinks afterward…and he totally ignored me the whole time. Let’s just drop it, huh?” I play with the comforter underneath me, feeling resigned to the whole thing. “I mean, what did you expect, anyway? Obviously a guy nicknamed Hot-Sex-Guy is going to be some ridiculous playboy type. We had our night and he’s done, it’s as simple as that - and it’s a hell of a lot more convenient too. He’s far more more interested in all the fun girls he can party with in New York, and that’s fine.”
It’s fine.
I don’t know why that’s so hard to think about. It’s probably just some silly, insecure part of me that’s afraid of being so replaceable - or the idea that the most amazing night of my life turned out to be just ordinary to someone else. I mean, I’m not sure what I ever expected when I went along with the one-night stand in the first place…that was why I didn’t want to see him again.
There’s just an oversensitive part of me that’s a little bit hurt that it meant nothing, that’s all.
It’s obviously a silly desire - to want to be special to someone you had a one night stand with. Maybe that’s why people warn against them.
I sigh. None of this would have been a problem if I hadn’t started working with him - if he hadn’t just been around like this. Then I wouldn’t be spending so much time wondering what he’s thinking. He would have just been a nice memory and my stupid brain - and my best friend - would never have had the chance to obsess. Or at least, not in a bad way.
“Oh.” Vicki says after a moment, and this time the disappointment sounds something more than just our usual banter, before she changes tone entirely. “Well, he’s a jerk then.”
The sudden change in attitude makes me laugh.
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe he is.”
Thank god for Vicki.
“A hot, sexy jerk who I never wanted more than a night with anyway.” I repeat for emphasis and she laughs back at me.
“Well, okay then. I’ll stop asking about him then, babe - and we’re just going to have to find you someone else when you get back here.”
I roll my eyes. “You know, after all this, I might just focus on—”
The knock at my door interrupts before I can finish that thought.
“—oh, hang on. I’ve gotta go. There’s someone at the door. Talk tomorrow, ‘kay?”
I hang up before she can answer, pushing my laptop aside and swinging my body off the bed.
“Coming!” I call out, in case they’re about to disappear.
A quick glance at the clock on the bedside table tells me it’s after midnight and I frown.
Who on earth comes by at this time? I didn’t order anything from room service - and while I’ve had a few visits from some of the design team, those definitely haven’t been after midnight.
As soon as I open the door though…
Oh damn.
“Ava…”
My name rolls from him, deep and sensual as his eyes lock with mine, and it takes all my breath from me as I stand there frozen with shock.
My god. Speak of the devil…
Damien is looking right back at me, his eyes hot and dangerous and full of heat as they glide down my body, reminding me so much of that first night that for a moment I can’t say anything.
I swallow.
“Um…hi. What…what are you…”
I start the question, even though part of me knows exactly what he’s doing here. I just don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to be right. There’s too much inside me that’s responding to that look, no matter how stupid I know it is. I feel like I’m drowning, totally out of my depth here.
What the hell do you do when your boss shows up at your hotel room after midnight? The boss you had a crazy fling with and still desperately fancy?
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Ava.” His eyes are burning with intensity as he looks at me, the brilliant green there lit up with passion. “This whole trip, I’ve been thinking about you. Wanting to see you again. I’ve been out tonight, but…all I wanted was to be here. To come and see you.”
Hot-and-cold shivers run down my spine at the words and the way this unspoken thing between us is suddenly right there again, hot tension that makes me want to step forward and closer toward him. I get the distant thought that Vicki was right after all, but it’s drowned out by the crazy thumping of my heart in my ears and I can’t tell whether that’s panic or…anticipation.
He shifts closer before I can work it out, leaning against the door frame and reaching one hand out toward me as I struggle to fight through the mixture of shock, disbelief and desire all clouding my mind.
Then I catch the hint of alcohol on his breath as he leans in and it’s enough to make me take a step back before he can reach me, clearing some of that confusion. A quick glance shows me the way his pupils are dilated and he’s swaying just slightly against the door frame.
I put a little distance between us as I look at him, half afraid of what I might end up giving into if I actually feel his touch against me again. And that…that would not be good. Not here. Not like this.
Not at all, Ava.
The small, sensible part of my brain reminds me. The part that seems to be getting smaller every day.
“Are you…have you been drinking?” I ask, my voice low and barely audible to my own ears - but enough to cut through this pent-up tension between us.
“Yes.” He says, then pauses, his brow lowering in a delayed response as he shrugs. “Not much. That’s not what this is about. I just—I can’t stop thinking about that night. And knowing you’re here, just down the corridor, all alone in your hotel room…”
I shake my head. I don’t want to hear the end of that sentence - or be given any more reminders for the same thing I’ve been trying to avoid thinking about this whole trip.
Damien. In the same hotel. In a room just a few doors along from me.
“You should go.” I say, before that temptation has a chance to sink in. “Damien, you shouldn’t be here.”
“Ava…” He shifts forward again, just a little bit closer, and that brilliant green gaze rakes across my face. I can’t ignore my own answering pulse of desire, but I’m at least fully aware of how much I can’t afford to give into it. “C’mon…”
For a brief moment I have the overwhelming impulse to give into him, to step forward into his arms, kiss him and succumb to all the desire that I’ve been trying to ignore ever since I started working at Indivest. My pussy already feels like it’s throbbing and ready for him, aching with a need that only gets worse the longer he stands here, right in front of me.
But when I look back at him, I can’t help seeing the glassy expression over the heat in his eyes - the slightly dazed look as he smiles just a little too wide, too open - and something just feels off. He’s drunk, it’s late and it doesn’t feel right for so many more reasons than the professional ones.
It’s obvious he’s already been out to who knows how many bars and parties in NYC - and now he’s here at the door to my hotel room. Everything Vicki and I were talking about comes back to me and I suddenly wonder what else he’s been up to. I get an uncomfortable squirming feeling inside me and I can’t deny I just don’t like it.
This feels like a late night booty call…and even though I’m sure that with him something like that would be hot and sexy and probably mind-blowing as far as it goes…it just feels wrong. I might have enjoyed the one night stand, in
totally different circumstances, but I don’t like what this display says about what he thinks of me.
That’s enough to clear the last of my hesitation and I shake my head firmly this time.
“Sorry Damien, I’m not another one of those girls for you to have fun with here in New York. I’m here to work.”
“No—” He shakes his head. “Ava, that’s not—”
“You’re drunk, Damien. You’re making stupid decisions and you need to get back to your room, get some sleep - and then hopefully we’ll both have forgotten this ever happened in the morning.”
“But—” His expression is slow to shift, obviously confused, but it’s enough that I can see some of the heady desire he came here with receding - and the uncertainty taking its place.
I shake my head again, reaching for the edge of the door.
“Goodnight, Damien.”
He takes a couple of steps back, still looking at me like he wants to say something, but it’s slow to form - and I don’t want to hear it.
“Goodnight.” I say again, before shutting the door.
Yeah, I just shut the door in my boss’s face.
But, hell, he kind of deserved it too - and if he remembers any of this, hopefully he’ll remember that.
I lock the door and then turn back to my room, shaking slightly from the after-shock of that and unable to go back to my bed as all the conflicting emotions rush through my body.
Oh my god.
I can’t believe he just did that. I can’t believe I almost—I can’t believe I wanted—
Oh fuck.
For just a brief moment, I was about to do it too. And I wasn’t even drunk or revved up from whatever party he’d been at. I’d gone from lying on my bed working and chatting to Vicki, to totally ready to jump into bed with my drunken boss just because he showed up at my room.
What an idiot.
I groan, running my hands through my hair.
I don’t know whether to be more pissed off at him for coming to me after whatever he’s been up to, thinking I’ll be willing to just jump into bed with him - or at myself, for almost doing exactly that.
Vicki was right - he’s a jerk. A playboy jerk who’s arrogant enough to think that just because he’s the CEO of this damn company and fucking fantastic in bed, he can do - and have - anything or anyone he likes.
