May the Best Man Win

by BJ Bentley

  “Leave? Hell no. These are great.”

  “You’re not...uncomfortable?”

  “No, Phil, I’m not uncomfortable.” Clearly, Phil did not know me. “But,” I added, taking pity on him, “if you’d like to go….”

  “No!” he nearly shouted. “No,” he repeated, quietly this time. “I’d like to stay.”

  I took a sip of champagne as we moved onto the next set of photographs. This cluster was slightly more graphic than the last, but still more sensual than explicit. I was admiring the photographer’s eye for contrast when a familiar voice sent a shiver down my spine.

  “I think the showing has been a success so far.”

  “Yes, I think so too. Thank you again, Damon. I couldn’t have put this together without your help,” an unfamiliar female voice answered.

  “You can stop thanking me, Lydia,” he chastised. “You’re the one who did all the hard work. All I did was throw some money at it.”

  My grip on my champagne flute tightened as I froze.

  Please don’t see me.

  Please don’t see me.

  Please don’t see me.

  I repeated the silent chant right up until a soft touch on my shoulder let me know that it had failed spectacularly.

  “Good evening, doll.”

  Damon’s southern drawl wrapped itself around me like a warm blanket. The words, spoken softly and so closely, left me a little unsteady on my feet.

  The touch on my arm lazily slid down to my elbow, where he gripped me just firmly enough to make his point clear: he wanted my attention, and he was going to have it.

  Not having any other choice, I turned to face him. “Damon,” I said curtly.

  “Hello, Sophie. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

  “Obviously, the feeling is mutual. Or else I wouldn’t have come.”

  A grin spread across his face at my rude words. A grin that only widened when his eyes swept over me and finally landed on my shoes. “I knew there was some of that wild still left in you,” he said smugly.

  “Damon?” the woman he’d been speaking with before I’d caught his attention called softly.

  “Sorry, Lydia, how rude of me. Lydia, this is Miss Sophie James. Sophie, this is Lydia, the photographer whose stunning work has us all so captivated this evening.”

  “Oh,” I breathed as we shook hands. “Your work is truly lovely from what I’ve seen so far. I’m looking forward to seeing the rest.”

  Lydia smiled sweetly. “Thank you. Your words are greatly appreciated. It was nice meeting you, but I think I see Cam trying to flag me down.” She discreetly pointed to a man on the other side of the room who did indeed look like he was desperately trying to get her attention.

  I found Damon’s eyes on me even as Lydia walked away.

  “Sophie?”

  My eyes widened at my name. “Phil,” I whispered, appalled that I had forgotten he was even standing there. “Uh, Phil, this is Damon. Damon, Phil.”

  “Are you on a date?” Damon grinned as he asked the question, no doubt looking forward to trying to make me feel uncomfortable.

  “No,” I answered.

  “Yes,” Phil said at the same time.

  I felt a pang of guilt at Phil’s frown.

  Damon, the bastard, actually had the nerve to chuckle.

  “You’re Damon Hatch,” Phil suddenly blurted.

  “I am.”

  Phil inexplicably morphed from awkward pseudo-date to overly enthusiastic fanboy. “You donated two million dollars to the children’s hospital last year.”

  Damon nodded, but said, “Technically, I donated one million. The other million was donated by my company.”

  “Still, it was you.”

  I’ll admit, Damon’s philanthropic efforts were admirable, but I wasn’t about to bend over and lick his shoes. Phil, on the other hand, looked like he loved the taste of shoe leather.

  “My niece has leukemia,” Phil said. “The money you donated helped her get the care she needed. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “No need to thank me; it was just money.”

  “No, you don’t understand. Not only did my niece get her treatments, but your donation made it possible for my sister to be close to her. She’s a single mom, and traveling back and forth between the hospital and her home is about four hours roundtrip.”

  Phil continued trying to convince Damon that he’d performed the greatest of miracles. He explained that his sister made little money, and the constant travel was quickly draining her pocketbook. Apparently, part of Damon’s donation funded housing for families of patients receiving long term care, so that they could be close by. Since his sister could basically work from anywhere with her laptop and a WiFi connection, she could stay close to her daughter and still work without having to worry about every little penny going toward gas or the wear and tear on her ten year old car.

  I had to admit that what Damon did had a legitimate, positive impact, and that made me, albeit grudgingly, develop a smidgeon of respect for the man. And that would be my dirty little secret because there was no way I was going to let him know that he did something that impressed me.

  As I listened to Phil tell his story, I watched Damon out of the corner of my eye. He was dressed in a charcoal gray suit with a satiny finish that caught the light when he moved. He wasn’t wearing a tie, the collar of his crisp white shirt laid open, giving me just a glimpse of chest hair. I didn’t have to imagine what the body underneath the fine clothes looked like. Or felt like, for that matter. I had first hand experience with all the sinewy muscle and warm skin that made up Damon Hatch, an experience that I would likely never forget no matter how desperately I wished to. My face still flamed when I thought of that short period during my sister’s wedding reception. The moment of weakness I had when I threw myself at the man who set my skin on fire with just a look and treated him as inconsequential as he was rumored to treat women. I wasn’t proud of turning the tables on him, but I hadn’t been keen on giving him the opportunity to toss me away first.

  I watched his face as he listened to Phil continue to speak. He listened politely, nodding when appropriate and otherwise being gracious. Something about his response bothered me, though. It was almost as if the praise was making him uncomfortable, though he was loathe to show any hint of discomfort. With an ego the size of his, it surprised me that he wasn’t basking in all his glory. Instead, he began discreetly rubbing the tip of his index finger against his thumb.

  Holy shit, Damon Hatch had a tell.

  I don’t know what made me do it, but I’ll never admit that it was a pang of sympathy for the man.

  “Phil? Would you mind grabbing me another glass of champagne, please?” I asked in my sweetest voice.

  Startled, Phil paused in his praise and glanced at me. “Oh, uh, sure, Sophie.” He turned back to Damon and mumbled an “Excuse me.”

  “Is your ego sufficiently fed now?”

  Damon blew out a breath. “I didn’t know that anyone could talk so much for so long and not consume any oxygen.”

  “He means well. What you did was...nice.”

  “That must have been painful.”

  “What was?”

  “Giving me a compliment.”

  “Ah. Yes, dreadfully so, in fact. But, I’ve learned my lesson, and I’ll never do it again.”

  He chuckled, reaching out to brush his fingers down my arm. “I like this Sophie. She should come out to play more often.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t flirt with me, Damon. It won’t end well.”

  “I beg to differ. I think it’ll end spectacularly.”

  The moment he finished speaking, Phil reappeared with the glass of champagne I didn’t really want. “Well, it was nice seeing you,” I said pointedly, “but, Phil and I are going to take in the rest of the exhibit now.”

  “Of course,” Damon nodded gallantly before adding, “Why don’t I join you.”

  It wasn’t a question, it was
a statement of intent. Phil spoke before I could.

  “Oh, that’s a great idea. I’d actually love to hear your thoughts on this particular piece over here.” Phil practically dragged his personal hero away as Damon tossed a wink at me over his shoulder.

  Not wanting to get in the middle of the one-sided bromance, and thinking I could torture Damon a little by doing so, I wandered off in the opposite direction. If Damon thought he could crash my non-date with Phil, he was more than welcome to keep the other man company. I’d occupy myself elsewhere.

  I found Lydia, the photographer, lurking in the hallway that led to the restrooms.

  “Are you hiding?” I whispered.

  Lydia grimaced. “It’s just so overwhelming. I needed a breather.”

  I nodded in understanding. “I totally get that. For what it’s worth, it’s well earned. I meant what I said earlier. Your photos are amazing.”

  Smiling sweetly, she said, “Thank you. I knew working for Damon would open up doors for me, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

  I jerked in surprise. “You work for Damon?”

  “Yep,” she confirmed, nodding. “I’m his administrative assistant. Well, one of them, anyway. There are two of us. Photography is just a hobby of mine. But Damon saw some of the photos and suggested I do a show. But, I’m a nobody, you know? It was his connections that got me this space for the evening.”

  “Well. That’s one supportive boss you’ve got there.” I knew that the gallery was pretty exclusive, and a large part of anyone’s success is who you know. Apparently, it paid to know Damon Hatch.

  “So, how do you know Damon?” Lydia asked before taking a sip of her own champagne.

  “His best friend is my new brother-in-law.”

  “Oh! So, you’re practically family, then!”

  I snorted. “Yeah, he’s like a really, really annoying brother.” Let’s ignore the fact that nothing I felt toward Damon could be classified as brotherly.

  “So, tell me about you, Sophie. It is Sophie, right?” Lydia cringed, thinking she might have gotten my name wrong.

  “Yes, it’s Sophie,” I confirmed, smiling at the relief on her face.

  “Sorry, I’ve met so many people tonight, I figured I was bound to screw up somebody’s name at some point.”

  “Well, you’re one and oh, on that score. And I’m a teacher, to answer your question. Second grade.”

  “You love it.” It wasn’t a question, it was an observation.

  “That obvious?” I chuckled.

  “All over your face,” she confirmed. “Hey, weren’t you here with someone?”

  “Yeah, Phil.” I pointed in Phil’s direction, where I could see him and Damon discussing one of Lydia’s more graphic photographs.

  “So...a date?”

  “No. Well,” I amended, “not to me, but I don’t think he got that memo.” I winced, remembering that I had decided to give Phil a shot, but now realizing that maybe I was fooling myself. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a really nice guy, but….” I trailed off with a shrug.

  “No spark.” She nodded in understanding. “Not like with you and Damon.”

  “Right,” I sighed. “Wait, what? Damon and I don’t have a spark, either.”

  Lydia made a noncommittal humming sound.

  “What does that mean?” My spine straightened.

  “Nothing. Just that, I only saw you two together for, like, a hot second, and I could tell. There’s something there.”

  “We had sex once,” I blurted. I nearly facepalmed myself. Why did I just say that to a virtual stranger? A virtual stranger who worked for Damon, no less. I was an idiot.

  She simply cocked a brow in my direction.

  “It was terrible.”

  Lydia lost it. A belly laugh overtook her, causing her to wrap her arms around her midsection and bend over like she was holding her insides in. She snorted as she once again became upright, wiping the tears from her eyes.

  I was acutely aware that all eyes in the gallery were now on us.

  “Oh, my God, Sophie! That is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!”

  “Why is that funny?” I asked, now offended. I hadn’t been trying to be funny. Did she not think the great Damon Hatch to be capable of bad sex? And how did she know? First hand experience? Oh, God, does Damon sleep with his secretaries? My internal freak out only intensified when Phil and Damon invaded our girl huddle.

  “What’s so funny?” Damon asked, a curious smile brightening his face.

  “Nothing,” I blurted, inciting more laughter from Lydia.

  Damon turned his attention to his administrative assistant. “Lydia?” he asked.

  My eyes widened in horror as I anticipated her answer, but she just waved him off. “Nothing, Damon. Just girl talk.”

  “Well,” I said a little too forcefully, “I don’t know about you, Phil, but I think I’m ready to go home.”

  Phil looked disappointed at my attempt to cut our evening short, but nodded anyway. “Of course. Would you like to get coffee first?” he asked as he lead me away from Damon and Lydia.

  “No, thank you.” I used the second glass of champagne as an excuse for my early departure and told Phil that I’d see him at work on Monday.

  As I left the gallery, I turned to make my way into the parking garage when I was grabbed from behind. I let out a yelp and raised my arms to defend myself, but I was suddenly staring into Damon’s intense gaze.

  “Jesus! You scared me!” I swatted his shoulder.

  “Don’t go out with him again,” came the abrupt demand.

  “What?” I blinked.

  “Phil. Don’t go out with him again.”

  “Um, pretty sure you don’t dictate who I do and don’t see.”

  His eyes narrowed and his voice lowered. “Tonight, I saw at least two more of your layers, Sophie, and I’m even more intrigued now than I was before. I intend to discover all of them in time, and while I’m doing so, I’m going to have to request that you don’t go out with Phil again.”

  I stepped back, shaking my head. “It doesn’t matter if you request anything. You can’t expect me to obey.”

  “I think you want to explore this just as much as I do, doll. I just can’t figure out why you’re trying to fight it.”

  “I don’t have to fight it. There’s nothing to explore.”

  “Oh, Sophie, now you’re just telling lies. Ugly, dirty lies.”

  The dangerous glint in his eyes should have been my first warning. I should have turned tail and run away, but my temper got the best of me, and when I opened my mouth to argue, he swooped in.

  Fireworks went off when his lips crashed into mine. His tongue was hot and wet like molten lava, and I was burning from the inside out. If anyone asked me later why my hands slid over his chest, why I leaned into him, I’d plead temporary insanity. If anyone wondered at the way my hands gripped his shoulders or the way my body swayed into his, I’d tell them it was because I was weak. But not from his kiss. Oh, no. It was obviously from too much champagne. I wouldn’t admit that he was right. I’d admit that what I confessed to Lydia was true. The sex I’d had with Damon was bad.

  But even bad sex with Damon was still the best sex of my life, and I’d never admit that.

  Chapter 5

  Damon

  “Thank you, Lydia,” I muttered, taking the file she handed back to me for what was now the third time.

  Since Friday night, all I’d been able to think about was that kiss. It had been different than the kisses we’d shared before, though to be fair, the night we spent in my hotel room and Johnny’s wedding was brief and disastrous in the end.

  Still, there had been something that drew me to Sophie. I’d spent weeks after the wedding trying to see her again. Despite the fact that she’d declared me to be the ‘biggest dick in Dickville,’ I wanted to be near her. Now, I’m not normally a glutton for punishment, and I’ve never had to put forth much effort in getting a woman’s attention, but curiously,
I found myself wanting to chase Sophie James. I’d tried manipulating plausible scenarios where we would be forced to interact, like dinner with Johnny and April, but that had only worked once or twice before Sophie caught on and started dodging her sister’s calls or finding excuses to bow out. The only reason she wasn’t able to avoid me this last time was because I’d told Johnny I wasn’t able to make it when he invited me. Sophie showed up because she thought it was safe, and I could tell she was put out when I’d waltzed in unannounced like I lived there.

  That night only served to draw me further into her seductive web. It wasn’t just the embarrassing stories April insisted on recounting that enamoured me, though they certainly helped. Rather, it was the warmth Sophie radiated. She loved her sister, and by extension, she loved Johnny. She gave all of herself to them. Held nothing back. And I found myself jealous of my best friend. I wanted that Sophie for myself. That night solidified my decision to pursue the feisty woman, no matter what obstacles she tried to throw in my path.

  Running into her at Lydia’s art opening was either pure luck or divine intervention, if you believed in that sort of thing. I almost laughed seeing her with her co-worker, Phil. The guy was obviously smitten, but Sophie was clearly not as interested in him as she wanted people to believe she was. The two of them as a pair was utterly ridiculous. Sophie might come across as safe and practical, but underneath that cool exterior, she was fire and fury. I planned to tap into that.

  “Are you going to call her?” Lydia asked, paused in the doorway of my corner office in the Hatchling Tech building.

  “Who?” I asked dumbly, knowing full well she was referring to the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about. God, just remembering that kiss in the parking garage under the gallery had gotten me hard all over again.

  “You know who, Damon. Don’t play dumb; it doesn’t suit you.”

  Lydia, being one of my two administrative assistants, knew me better than anyone else in my company. She probably knew me better than anyone else, period, outside of Johnny. She never had a problem seeing through my bullshit.

  I smirked. “You know me, Lydia. When have I ever backed down from something I wanted?”

  “I like her. I think she’d be good for you, and you deserve that.”