May the Best Man Win

by BJ Bentley

  “Damon, are you even listening to me?”

  “Hmm?” My eyes shot to Lydia, who was standing in the doorway to my office.

  “You’re totally not listening,” she muttered. “I was saying that Roy Tanaka called about the University Park solar panel project. I think he has some questions about the installation.”

  “I’ll call him back first thing in the morning.”

  Lydia leveled a suspicious glare at me.

  “I promise. Now, get out of here.” I waved her off like she was being a nuisance even though she saved my ass on more than one occasion. She knew I wouldn’t let it go to her head, though. It just wouldn’t be right if anyone in this company had a bigger ego than me.

  The solar panel project she referred to is an installation that Hatchling Tech was developing in conjunction with Tanaka Corp, a Japanese firm that specializes in alternative energy. Hatchling Tech, which had its hands in many pies in the tech world, was the developer of a new ultrathin solar cell. They were lighter and more flexible than traditional glass solar panels yet just as efficient. My company was partnering with Tanaka Corp to install several of these panels on a California university campus in a bid to convince the university to invest in solar energy once they realized how cost-effective and eco-friendly it is.

  Thinking about the implications that these new panels could have, I was reminded that I was due for a phone call from my father. Every six months or so, he liked to call to remind me that clean energy was a pipe dream and oil was the only way to go. Teddy Hatch had trouble letting go of the past, and he couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to live there, too. Growing up in Texas during a time when crude oil was the ultimate status symbol, it would have been easy to follow in my father’s footsteps and carry on the family legacy. But I saw a different path, not only for myself, but for the family business. Since Dad disagreed, I struck out on my own. Dual majoring in engineering and business, I drafted a plan for a tech startup, that which eventually became Hatchling Tech. We dabbled in several aspects of engineering, including software and biomedical, but clean energy was our primary focus.

  The vibrations emanating from my suit jacket pocket were the universe’s way of reminding me not to speak (or think) of the devil lest he appear. I pulled it out, expecting to see my father’s name when I glanced at the screen. But it wasn’t dear old Dad. No, it was far worse.

  “Georgia,” I clipped.

  “Oh, Damon! Finally! I thought for sure you’d send me straight to voicemail again.”

  It had been tempting, but she’d been calling Chloe lately when she couldn’t get to me directly, and Tierney’s nanny didn’t deserve the abuse. “What do you want, Georgia?”

  “Well...I’d like to see her.”

  “Who?” Her, she’d said. She couldn’t even say her daughter’s name, not that she deserved to.

  “T-Tierney.”

  She spoke softly and gently, her words hesitant, but I knew Georgia far too well to think that she’d suddenly developed some mothering instincts. She wanted something, and it wasn’t to see the daughter she’d almost killed.

  “No.”

  “Please, Damon,” she begged, tears in her voice.

  “Are you sober?”

  “Yes.”

  “How long?”

  “Three months.”

  Well, that was surprising. In the life of an addict, even one day of sobriety was impressive, but despite her accomplishment, I couldn’t bring myself to feel relieved. Instead, I just felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Georgia had always been a party girl. In the beginning, that’s what I liked about her; she was always up for a good time. We were never serious, just fuck buddies who helped each other relieve a little tension in between studying for finals and living up to other people’s expectations. Or at least that’s how I saw it. I learned later that Georgia’s parents were pushing her to find a husband, and she’d set her sights on me, the heir to an oil field. After graduating from college, we dated briefly, and while Georgia seemed satisfied with the state of affairs, I found myself increasingly less interested in spending time with her. Whereas I was ready to grow up and start my business, she was content to continue partying. Her family, the Buchanans, were wealthy, but not to the same standard as mine, and they were apparently willing to fund her lifestyle until she got married, and then they were done with her.

  I was poised to tell Georgia that I had no intention of marrying her when she dropped a bomb on me. She was pregnant. And just like that, everything changed. I became a father at twenty-two years old. Georgia and I moved in together, though I was still convinced that our relationship, other than co-parenting our daughter, was finished. I just couldn’t bear to be away from my baby girl, even when I was working long hours to get Hatchling Tech off the ground. The center of my universe was a sweet-smelling cherub with a perfect bow-shaped mouth and inquisitive hazel eyes, just a shade lighter than mine. The three of us lived together comfortably for the first few months of Tierney’s life until one evening, I was working late at the new offices of Hatchling Tech, and I received a call from the Dallas metro police. It was the night that changed everything for our little family.

  “Listen, Georgia, I’m not sure that seeing Tierney is a good idea. I’m glad you’re sober now, but I have to think about what’s best for my daughter, and I’m not sure that seeing you is it.”

  “Our daughter.”

  “What?”

  “You said ‘my daughter,’ but she’s ours, Damon. Don’t you ever forget that,” she hissed.

  That sounded more like the Georgia I remembered. “She might carry your DNA, Georgia, but she’s mine, and legally, there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it. You’d be best to not ever forget that.”

  “I’m sorry, Damon,” she rushed out. “You’re right. I just miss her. Just think about it, okay?”

  “Fine,” I said, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I’ll think about it. But, no promises.”

  “Thank you.”

  I ended the call without responding to her false gratitude. The bitch was trying to use my baby girl to manipulate me. I just needed to figure out what she was after.

  Shaking off my anger, I reminded myself where I was going tonight and who I was going to be with. My lips tipped up when I thought of Sophie’s face and spread into a full-fledged smile when I remembered what she looked like naked.

  Chapter 10

  Sophie

  “I’m here!” I hollered into the entryway of April and John’s house. Every time I came over for dinner, I always arrived with my arms full. And nearly every time, no one bothered to greet me at the door and help me unload my burden.

  Lazy bastards.

  “Here, let me help you,” a southern drawl I was not expecting to hear murmured.

  I froze in place, nearly toppling over from the bags of groceries that weighed down my arms before Damon relieved me of them. “Thanks,” I muttered to his back as he walked, with my bags, toward the kitchen.

  “Hi, Miss James,” a soft voice I heard at work every day, but did not expect to hear in my sister’s house, called.

  My face spread into a wide grin. “Hey, Tierney. I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.”

  She shrugged, as she often did. “Chloe had a study group she wanted to go to, so I asked my dad if I could come visit Uncle Johnny.”

  Damon was the only person I’d ever heard call John ‘Johnny,’ but it had apparently rubbed off on Tierney. “I see. Who’s Chloe?”

  “My nanny.”

  “Ahh. Alright, well, are you going to help us make dinner or are you going to watch T.V. with the boys?”

  “I’ll help.”

  We walked side by side into the kitchen, where Damon and April were looking down at the assortment of desserts and beverages I’d brought.

  “I couldn’t decide, so I got one of each.”

  “I can see that,” April snickered. “There’s one for every night of the wee
k.”

  Fact. I couldn’t decide between chocolate cake, carrot cake, blueberry pie, cheesecake, or vanilla cupcakes. So, I got them all. Same thing happened when I tried to select a bottle of wine. So, I got moscato, sweet Riesling, blackberry merlot, and a six pack of hard cider. Listen, my indecision was a character flaw, and I was working on it.

  “Well, in that case, I say we let Tierney decide what we’re having for dessert, and you and John can have whatever we don’t eat the rest of the week.” Minus whatever I managed to sneak away with later.

  “What do you think, baby girl?” Damon asked, his hand resting lightly on the back of his daughter’s head.

  Tierney took her time surveying her options before finally shrugging and declaring, “A little bit of everything.”

  I sighed. “A girl after my own heart,” I muttered, shivering at Damon’s chuckle. “Alright, no boys allowed in the kitchen, so shoo, you.” I waved Damon off. “Tierney’s helping with dinner.”

  “Yeah?” He gave his little girl a questioning look, to which she just nodded.

  “Alright, baby girl.” He ruffled her hair playfulling before grabbing two beers from the fridge and joining John in the living room.

  I gave Tierney the task of setting the table, while April and I hovered over the stove.

  “So...I can’t help but notice that you aren’t freaking out right now.”

  I gave my sister some well-deserved side-eye. “Would it do me any good if I did?”

  “No, you’d just look like a crazy person. I’m just surprised, is all.”

  “So, you expected me to act like a crazy person?”

  April tried unsuccessfully to bite back her grin. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Uh huh,” I muttered disbelievingly. I kept my voice low when I said, “Well, I have to play nice now that I know his daughter is also my student.”

  “Is that all it is?”

  “Do not, I repeat, do not read more into this. There is nothing going on with Damon.”

  I hadn’t told her about Damon coming to my rescue that morning and standing in the rain while making sure that I was warm and dry inside his luxury car. Or how he’d taken me home so I could change my clothes before stealing a kiss when he dropped me off at work. And I especially wasn’t telling her how the tow truck driver returned my car with a brand new tire instead of the spare I’d been expecting and then refused payment because “Mr. Hatch had already taken care of it.” I did not tell her any of that, because I knew what her reaction would be. She’d deem it all very gentlemanly and romantic and expect me to swoon.

  I may have swooned a little, but I wasn’t telling her that either.

  “I know, I know. I’m just sayin’...maybe there should be.”

  “Jesus, you’re relentless,” I grumbled.

  Dinner was eventually on the table, and everyone was seated with the exception of April and me.

  “You go ahead; I’ll get the wine.” I grabbed both the moscato and Riesling off the counter and entered the dining room debating which one I wanted to crack open first.

  “Miss James, I saved you a seat.”

  I smiled as my eyes met Tierney’s. “Thank you…” I let my words trail off when I realized where exactly she intended for me to sit. The only empty chair at the table was located between her and Damon. I couldn’t very well refuse; it would be rude. Plus, I wasn’t going to do exactly what April had accused me of and cause a scene. So, fixing my smile in place, I sat where I was expected and tried to ignore the heat that Damon’s proximity stoked in me.

  “Hello, doll,” he murmured in my ear.

  I watched him uncork the moscato and pour me a generous serving. I nearly downed it all in one gulp.

  ***

  Dinner had been torture. Pure, unadulterated suffering.

  Damon had moved his chair unnecessarily close to mine, so that I was practically in his lap, and each and every time one of us moved, we were inevitably forced to touch in some way. His arm brushed mine, my thigh pressed into his. All the blood in my body rushed south, leaving me lightheaded. I pressed my thighs together in a failed attempt to ease the ache in my clit, but every time Damon looked at me with that hooded and knowing gaze, the throbbing only intensified. He knew exactly what he was doing to me.

  After dinner, I helped April clear the table and load the dishwasher. Once everything was put away, I heaved a tired breath and voiced my intention to head home.

  “Baby girl, why don’t you go with your Uncle Johnny into the living room for a minute? I need to speak with Miss James.” Damon ushered his daughter into John’s care and pulled me out the front door and onto the porch.

  He crowded me into the little alcove where April’s porch swing hung, so that we were out of sight of anyone who happened to be passing by. With the siding pressing into my back and Damon in front of me, I was stuck between the house and a very hard body.

  “What are you doing, Damon?”

  His hands landed on my waist as he leaned into me. “I’ve missed your lips, doll.”

  He took my mouth in a teasing kiss. It wasn’t what I was expecting. His lips massaged mine. He took his time nibbling on the corner of my mouth before nipping at my bottom lip. His tongue darted out to taste me briefly, but he didn’t deepen the kiss. Instead he teased me with what I wanted but knew I shouldn’t have. He taunted me until my lips chased his as he pulled away. Damon normally had such an intense and commanding presence, but this kiss wasn’t about dominating me. It was meant to get my attention. And it worked.

  “Let me take you out.”

  “I-I can’t.” My hands, which had been fisted in his shirt, tried pushing against his chest. I needed space from his intoxicating presence.

  “Why not?”

  “Aside from the fact that Tierney is my student and that would be a conflict of interest?” I scoffed.

  “Yeah, doll, aside from that because I’m not concerned about a conflict of interest. Try again.” He was so confident that he had me, that no argument I could come up with would be successful in ridding myself of him.

  “I’m seeing someone,” I lied.

  He frowned. “Why are you lying to me?”

  “I’m not,” I lied again. “His name’s Rick. He’s the art teacher at the school.”

  Damon’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Is that so?”

  “Yep.” I nodded.

  Damon took a step back. “I see.”

  “You do? Well, good. That’s good.”

  Damon shook his head slightly. “For the record, doll, I don’t believe a single word you just said. And I don’t appreciate being lied to. But I can see that you’re obviously scared of whatever this is between us.”

  “What? I’m not scared of anything,” I insisted.

  It was Damon’s turn to scoff. “Tierney’s waiting, so I don’t have the time to unpack that silo of bullshit. I’m going to let you have your way for now. But know this, sweetheart. I won’t wait forever. I’ll be coming for you, and when I do, you’ll be singing my name like you just found Jesus, but Jesus wouldn’t dream of doing the dirty things that I’m going to do to you.”

  Chapter 11

  Sophie

  I secured the clasp on my silver hoop earring and surveyed myself in the mirror. My outfit consisting of a slim-fitting, black turtleneck sweater, dark wash skinny jeans, and black, low-heeled booties was not fancy, but it would do. I glanced down at my watch, seeing that I had ten more minutes before Rick arrived.

  Yes, after telling Damon my epic lie the night before, I’d cornered Rick at work this morning and all but coerced him into taking me out. Bullying a man for a date was not my finest moment, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and avoiding any kind of intimate entanglement with Damon was just cause for my rash behavior.

  At least Rick was cute. And he wasn’t anything like Damon. He didn’t have Damon’s smoldering intensity or his casual confidence. Rick was the art teacher at the elementary school, so he spent most o
f his days instructing children on the finer points of macaroni art and how to turn the outline of your hand into a turkey. I didn’t know him well, but what I did know seemed decent enough. And, who knows? Maybe this date would lead to something else.

  Hearing a car horn, I peeked between the curtains and saw Rick’s Volvo parked at the curb. I didn’t consider myself to be high maintenance by any means, but I couldn’t help but purse my lips in annoyance that he chose to honk his horn at me rather than walking up to the door and escorting me to the car like a gentleman. I didn’t think expecting basic manners was asking for much. I grabbed my purse off the back of the couch and locked the door behind me on the way out.

  I opened the Volvo’s passenger door and nearly passed out from the cloud of patchouli I was gassed with.

  “Oh, sorry. Here,” Rick said, rolling down the windows while I coughed. “I’m so used to it, I forget that it can take others by surprise.”

  I didn’t think I could ever get used to it. I curled my lip at the thought that I’d likely spend the rest of the night bathed in the scent.

  We’d elected the traditional dinner and a movie for our first date, however, Rick informed me on the drive to the theater that it didn’t make sense for us to pay for dinner when we could just eat popcorn at the movie. I almost opened my door and threw myself into the heavy traffic of the 205 right then and there because he was dead serious. He drove us straight to the movie theater complex at the mall.

  I tried not to be petty, but I still ordered the largest bucket of popcorn along with a gallon of soda and assorted boxes of candy. I said I tried not to be petty. I never said I was successful.

  Standing in line with our tickets and junk food bounty, we waited for the previous showing of our movie, an action flick that I chose, to let out so we could go in. Being a terrible date and not paying much attention to Rick, as I was punishing him for his poor choices this evening, my eyes caught on a very fine ass in a pair of worn jeans. Not more than ten feet ahead of us in line was a tall man with broad shoulders which tapered down into what was probably a sculpted back. It was his behind, though, that really had my attention, and there was nothing more delicious that a firm ass in a pair of well worn jeans. I was so busy ogling said derriere that I didn’t hear my name called the first time.