The Rules of the Game (D'Arth Series Book 1)

by Camille Oster

  A nice soothing shower calmed her somewhat, but the general unease wasn’t relenting. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. It had sounded like such a great opportunity—a good promotion, a clever mentor and exciting projects—but at the moment there seemed to be a high price to pay.

  Damon was already in the dining room, sitting with one of the architects when she went down for breakfast shortly after seven. She’d thought about skipping breakfast, but then decided she wasn’t going to be chased away. Luckily Stephen turned up looking worse for wear, but she was very happy to see him, as etiquette would dictate that she would have to join Damon if they’d been the only two diners from their party. With Stephen, it was perfectly acceptable that they have their own small table, but her luck didn’t hold as Stephen headed straight for Damon’s table, and she could do nothing else but follow.

  Sitting down, she started immediately on her muesli and fruit she’d picked from the buffet table. David, the architect, was discussing the conclusion of some design decision they’d made and Damon was listening intently. He seemed to be calm and in a good mood, and she wondered if anything shook him up, or whether he just took everything in his stride.

  His strong jaw was working as he ate his cooked breakfast. He had strong features, but it was his eyes that really hit home how attractive he was. They had an intensity to them, like they saw straight through you. Looking down, she narrowly avoided his gaze as he just caught her examining him. Her muesli was suddenly very interesting. Although she was then truly distracted by the rain that came out of nowhere and fell with intense fury. Looking out the large glass windows, she saw nothing but a wall of water, the rain completely obscuring the view out. She couldn’t even see to the next building.

  “It rains hard here,” Damon said. “Doesn’t typically last long.” Returning her gaze back to him, she seemed to get stuck in his gaze for a moment. She had to concede that he was very attractive and she now ‘got it’ when the office girls went on about how hot he was.

  “It certainly is a pain for construction,” David said. “You have to stop completely. It rains so hard it’s unsafe.”

  Jane lost her appetite and just stared at the rain.

  “We should go,” Damon said to the group. They were all finished, so they got up and moved through the lobby to the entrance, but only one in the queue.

  “We should all fit,” Stephen said loudly over the pounding rain falling outside the parapet. “It will be a squeeze, but we’ll make do. You go in front David, with those spider legs of yours.” He then walked around the other side of the taxi and got in, which meant that she was in the middle. It really was a tight squeeze. She tried to be as small as possible, but it was too tight to avoid touching. Her awareness of Damon intensified; she could feel the heat of his body and it was a little disconcerting in the steamy atmosphere of the taxi. The fact that they could see nothing but rain only made it seem even smaller.

  “What time are you going to the bank?” Damon asked her in a quiet voice. He wasn’t whispering, but they were so close he might as well have been.

  “In about an hour.” Looking down in her lap, she could feel his eyes on her.

  “Report to me afterward.” She nodded after a moment of hesitation. This was his account and he had the right to know what she was doing, even though she was taking direction from somewhere else—a direction being imposed on him. She wasn’t entirely sure how things worked, but he apparently couldn’t throw her out of the country or his team.

  He didn’t say anything else for the rest of the trip, but he held his hand out for her when they arrived. It was warm and firm, and the touch was probably a lot more electrifying than it should be. As much as she hated it, she had developed a bit of an attraction for him—probably because he was the most unsuitable man for her to develop an attraction for. While he hadn’t kicked her out of the country yet, there was no denying that he was dangerous to her and the only thing keeping him in check was Mr. Carmichael. She knew full well if something happened to her mentor’s position in the company, she’d be done for; Damon D’Arth would eat her for breakfast and not think twice about it.

  Excusing herself, she went to get a coffee before going up to the office. She needed to get a hold of herself and to shake off this ridiculous attraction that seemed to have taken root in her brain. She chided herself for being stupid, she wasn’t some teenager that fell to pieces just because she found someone cute, for heaven’s sake. There were attractive people around all the time. The problem was that they didn’t make her feel completely breathless, or maybe that was just the fact that he despised her.

  Quietly entered the office, she printed off what she needed for the day ahead. Their room was starting to fill with the casualties of the previous night, which apparently had been awesome. A part of her felt that she should have gone. The words of her ex-boyfriend still hung over her at times, particularly when she made sensible choices.

  When she’d answered the most pressing emails, it was time for her to go. Standing up, she placed the documents she needed into a folder and walked out as inconspicuously as she could, but she could feel Damon’s eyes on her as she walked through the room.

  Chapter 5

  Damon swore under his breath as Jane left the office to go off to negotiate with the bank. He knew full well that there were other efforts back home, but if Carmichael’s deal was more attractive, he’d be roped into taking on Clarion as a partner. While it wouldn’t be the end of the world, he hated being railroaded into it.

  He hadn’t intended to have a little chat with her this morning, the opportunity just presented itself, but he was glad that they weren’t pussyfooting around her true purpose. He was also glad that she’d been honest; he respected that. Others may have chosen to lie at that moment, but she hadn’t. He would use her honesty to his advantage, perhaps that way, he could use her as a channel to influence Carmichael as much as the other way around.

  She was a bit timid, although he wasn’t sure that timidity described entirely the right characteristic. She certainly didn’t seek his attention like many others would; in fact, he suspected that she might actually be avoiding him. She wasn’t going to work well as a channel if she avoided him like the plague.

  She might be honest, but she wasn’t volunteering information either—he had to ask her, which meant that he had to know the signs that there was something he needed to ask. If he knew her well, he’d be able to read her quite easily. He’d bet his right arm she wouldn’t make the most accomplished poker player, her emotions showed on her face too clearly.

  This would prove a little bit of a challenge. The women he normally dealt with were experts at hiding their real feelings or portraying ones they didn’t have. They tried their absolute best to manipulate him and their efforts belied their true intent without fail. He didn’t succumb to their attempts, but he didn’t strictly mind them trying either—that way he knew exactly what they wanted, and he knew what to expect. He also got the choice of deciding how much he put into the relationship, which typically was very little.

  No, waiting around for Jane Burrows to try to use him to her ends wouldn’t work. The problem was that he didn’t entirely understand what her ends were. He didn’t know what it was she hungered for, but he would find out.

  In the meantime, he had much to do. It was crunch time for getting the design together, and for getting the proposal document in shape. He’d have to worry about Burrows and Carmichael later.

  *

  Jane returned to the hotel close to five o’clock. The bank had taken longer than anticipated, so she hadn’t been able to eat lunch at all. Hunger drove her to find a small food court, hidden away in a nearby shopping centre. The food was lovely, although she was so hungry, sawdust would probably have been appetizing.

  She’d arrived late to the meeting with Clarion, but they had been gracious about it. Luckily, they understood that financial negotiations were sometimes hard to predict.

  Clari
on wanted confirmation that Damon D’Arth was on board with the proposal, which just added another layer of stress to a situation that felt unmanageable. She couldn’t blow this deal by indicating that there was discord within their team—that would be unforgiveable. She’d managed to impart some sentiment that there was natural conservatism due to the certainty around financial structure. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d pulled it off, but technically it was true and it would be understandable and defensible.

  She left the meeting with a good understanding of the terms Clarion wanted. They’d also settled on which terms were negotiable and the ones that weren’t. She would now have to go back to do the negotiation with her own team, with Edmund. Although she wasn’t sure what she should do about Damon. These were conversations he should be a part of; maybe there could be some way of getting Edmund and Damon on the same page.

  By the time she’d returned to the hotel, it was too late to discuss it with Edmund, the time difference would make it too late in the evening. She would have to get up early to call him.

  Taking her heels off, she stretched her aching feet and her phone rang. She picked it up and saw that it was Damon. She wondered if she could ignore it, but decided it would be cowardly. She needed to harden up.

  “There is a restaurant up in one of the high rises; it has views covering the whole island. We are going tonight. Be downstairs at seven,” he said when she answered the phone. It annoyed her that he just ordered her around, she might have had plans. Not that she did.

  “Fine,” she said.

  “Have you spoken to Carmichael?”

  “Not since this morning,” she admitted. Why did she feel like she was walking into a trap with that statement?

  “I’ll see you at seven,” he said and hung up. Thinking about her concerns, she lay down on the bed and tried to relax; she would take a few minutes before she sorted through her emails. It was a bit strange that he sorted the dinner plans; normally it was the others as Damon was too busy wining and dining the clients. Maybe he had the night off. She wondered if he normally sorted out dinner arrangements so bluntly. She could well imagine that he did, or maybe he even had Sarah do it for him. It must be disconcerting to get asked out to dinner by someone’s PA.

  There was nothing urgent amongst her email, so she went for another ice-cream before dressing for dinner. A restaurant high in a sky scraper with fantastic views was probably going to have a more formal dress standard and she didn’t have anything suitable—but she had a grey dress she normally wore under a jacket. It would have to do.

  Arriving at the lobby a bit early, she waited outside where it was nice and warm. She could also see into the lobby when the others started to gather. It was just nice to soak up the heat after a long day in air conditioned spaces, and to hear birds chirping rather than the constant drone of air handling units.

  “Let’s go,” she heard behind her. It was the deep smooth tones of Damon’s voice.

  “Where are the others?” she asked.

  “They’re not coming,” he said and hailed a taxi over to them. Opening the door for her to get in, he followed after she’d slid along the seat.

  She hadn’t realised that they would be dining alone. Her suspicion rose immediately. Why were they dining alone? Was she in for a bloodbath he didn’t want anyone else to see? Although she should be grateful he had the courtesy to do it in private, she guessed. She thought of a way to get out of it, but the taxi was speeding along to their destination. She just had to resign herself to whatever was to come.

  “It’s a clear night, the view should be good,” he said. “On a clear night you can even see Indonesia and Malaysia.”

  “It must be pretty high.”

  “Are you afraid of heights?”

  “No, not that I’ve noticed,” she said. Luckily there wasn’t that level of terror added to make this evening even more uncomfortable.

  Arriving at the lobby of another hotel, he seemed to know exactly where he was going and he gently urged her along to a set of elevators. After he announced them to a woman checking reservations at a podium, they were let through to elevators which sped them up high, fast enough that she had to balance her ears.

  Jane felt her nerves almost overwhelm her as they were confined in the small elevator. She was just going to dinner; she didn’t need to feel like she was going in for slaughter. Looking over at the man standing next to her, she thought he looked completely calm. He looked over at her as the elevator started to slow down.

  “It’s quite high, isn’t it?” she said brightly. She knew it would be; he’d already said so, but she just felt like she needed to say something.

  Stepping out into an amazing space, she gasped. This was the type of space she only really saw in magazines. The floor to ceiling windows went over two stories and the views were spectacular.

  “How far up are we?” she asked.

  “Over seventy floors,” he answered and followed a maître’d leading them to their table. Jane almost bumped into a wall as she was preoccupied looking out the view over the harbour. There were at least a hundred ships out there heading into port.

  The table was beautiful with a stiff white table cloth—right next to the window and if she put her face close to the glass she could see all the way down to the street where the cars looked like toys.

  “This is a beautiful restaurant,” she said.

  “It is spectacular,” he said and picked up the menu that was placed on the table. “It’s not the most basic restaurant in town, but it’s worth it.”

  Jane couldn’t take her gaze away from the view; there was so much to take in.

  “How did it go today?” he said finally and it jarred her attention back to her company.

  “It went well,” she said, clearing her throat. “There are terms that need to be hammered out, but in general they seemed willing to provide finance for us.”

  “And what about Clarion?”

  “Same thing.”

  “And how does Carmichael intend to present this?”

  “I don’t know,” she said honestly. Edmund didn’t always share such things with her.

  Damon considered her for a while and Jane didn’t exactly know where to put her hands.

  “What do you drink?” he asked.

  “Uh, maybe a gin and tonic.”

  He ordered drinks for both of them when the drinks waiter came. The drinks came quickly and hers was served in a heavy crystal tumbler.

  “When are you seeing them again?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess it depends on what the board decides,” she said. “What is your issue with Clarion?”

  “I have some concerns. Mostly, I don’t like being dictated to.”

  “Mr. Carmichael seems to think they’d make a good partner.”

  “I know he does,” Damon said and played with the knife on the table. “Doesn’t make it true.”

  “And what makes it false?” she challenged. He didn’t answer, but instead pinned her with a gaze that both challenged and unnerved her. Like having tea with a tiger, she thought to herself. His eyes had the intensity of a predator, even though his body language was as relaxed as it had been before. The setting sun cast golden light into the restaurant and it seemed to pick up the gold in his hair and maybe even eyes. She couldn’t quite figure out what colour his eyes were, whether they were gray or blue, perhaps green.

  “Where do you see your future, Jane?” She hadn’t anticipated the question and had a feeling that her answer counted for more than just small talk. This was not really a conversation she wanted to have, because she didn’t have a clear answer, and she certainly didn’t want to own up to the uncertainties she’d entertained in her head about her current work.

  “I enjoy the performance evaluation work. It’s fascinating. I don’t have any immediate plans for moving on.” It was a sufficiently vague answer that also conveyed that she was dedicated to her current job. She quietly congratulated herself.

  “So not p
lanning to go back to more sedate work at the council? She was actually surprised he remembered that she’d mentioned that the other night.

  “No, not for me,” she said decisively.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?” That was a really personal question and she flushed.

  “Not at the moment,” she said quietly. She absolutely didn’t want to discuss her disastrous love life, or how she’d been dumped for being too boring. Although she kind of wished she could take a photo right now and send it to her ex to say, look what I traded you up for. It was a completely petty thought, but it made her smile. Not that she ever would, knowing her luck it would get out that she was claiming that Damon D’Arth was her boyfriend, which would be mortifyingly embarrassing.

  “Something funny?”

  “No, nothing,” she said. “Do you?”

  “Do I what?”

  “Have a girlfriend?”

  “I really don’t prescribe to definitions.”

  “There’s a no if I ever heard one,” she said with a snort, making him raise his eyebrows.

  “What exactly is it that you doubt about me?” he said with curiosity and a bit of disbelief.

  “Nothing.” She’d spoken before she’d thought and wished she hadn’t, but then she refused to be a chicken. “Have you ever had a girlfriend?”

  “Probably more than you can count,” he said dismissively.

  “I guess that depends on your definition between a girlfriend and a date.”

  “And what would you say the difference is?”

  “I don’t know, someone you care about, someone you want to spend your downtime with. Let’s say someone you’ve cooked for.”

  “I don’t cook.”

  “Alright, someone you’ve introduced to your parents.”

  “That’s a stupid definition.”

  “You’ve never introduced anyone to your parents?” she said disbelievingly.

  “Not on purpose,” he said with a smile. It was the first time she’d seen him smile. It was a kind of lopsided smile that just conveyed wickedness. It also made her insides melt. That was the smile of a shared secret and she wasn’t sure whether she should feel honoured.