by Raquel Belle
His long fingers tightened noticeably around the steering wheel. It was absurd that she felt the desire to feel his hands tighten on certain parts of her body.
You hate him. You hate him. Her chant barely kept her focused on the task at hand.
“What’s that?”
“I borrowed everything I have on from my sister’s closet.”
Damian’s shoulders relaxed. “Why would you do that?”
“Well, if you saw me before I changed, you’d understand. I had on a t-shirt, faded jeans and battered sneakers. And that’s pretty much what makes up the majority of my wardrobe. I was advised not to greet you in my state of scruff, so I borrowed a few of my sister’s things. I thought you’d appreciate a more sophisticated look. But it’s eleven a.m. I mean, it should be a crime to give a shit about looking glamorous before noon, right?”
Seconds ticked by before he responded with a roar of laughter. “Are you being serious? About preferring t-shirts and jeans? Because I happen to find that refreshing and incredibly sexy.”
“Just you wait until you see me in one of those pairs of washed out jeans.”
“So, I’m going to see you again?”
“You play your cards right, Damian, and you might,” she said. Abby held her breath, wondering how she was doing in the seduction department so far. When he glanced her way with a blatantly lustful swipe of the eyes, she exhaled. It seemed like she was doing pretty damn good. Her satisfied smirk faded. She was becoming worse than her mother and Elaina combined. It was disturbing, and she wondered what would happen next.
Chapter Seven
Damian
Damian could tell Joseph was judging him. During his years as Damian’s lawyer, he’d never questioned his actions, until now. Over time, Damian had come to confide in him about more than legal matters.
“You went out on a date?” Joseph asked. “With Aldridge’s daughter?”
Crossing his ankles on his desk, Damian nodded. “That’s what I said, Joe.”
“The one with the fake blonde hair and fake everything else?”
“No, the one with the natural everything who just moved back home.”
“Huh. I suppose that’s why you wanted this information.” Joe held a file in his hand.
“Precisely.”
He rubbed his chin. “You don’t trust the woman, yet you went out with her.”
“And I’m going to do it again.”
“And you decided that before taking a look at what’s in that file?”
“Yup.” Damian reached for the file, his eyes meeting Joe’s. “What?”
Joe steepled his fingers and sat back. “Alright, not as your lawyer but as your friend. Have you lost your fucking mind? She’s an Aldridge. You hated the father, and you’ve claimed to detest the entire brood. You stole their company.”
“I bought it,” Damian said.
“Right. Out of spite. And you’re about to take everything else they own. You’re about to slaughter them financially and without remorse. Now you’ve decided that you want to date one of them. Do you get how twisted that sounds? I mean, how does a relationship like that even work?”
“She’s different, Joe. At least, I’m about to make sure she is.” He held up the file with everything that could possibly be found on Abigail Aldridge. Damian was almost afraid to look inside, afraid that he’d be disappointed.
Joe shook his head. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“She hates sports cars,” Damian said.
He received a blank expression from Joe.
“She wears jeans and t-shirts.” The expression on Joe’s face remained blank. Damian huffed with annoyance. “I haven’t come across anyone like her in a long time. Not since I built my fortune, forcing me to maneuver amongst the superficial rich crowd.”
“Good god ... I think you need a vacation. Maybe the pressure of the cruel business world is getting to you, man.”
“I don’t need a goddamn vacation, Joe.” Damian waved the file. “Thank you for this.”
“Aren’t you going to open it?”
“I’d rather do so in private.” That way, no one would witness his anger and regret, if it turned out that Abigail was a liar.
“I already know much of what’s in there.”
“I don’t care.” Damian lowered his feet from his desk and powered on his laptop. His expression became shuttered. Joe knew him well enough to know that when Damian closed off, there was no point in sticking around.
He stood up and grabbed his briefcase. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at Arlet’s tomorrow.” Damian narrowed his eyes slowly, raised his head from behind the computer screen, and pinned Joe to the spot.
Joe’s face turned red. “She uh, invited me over for dinner.”
“My mother invited you over for dinner?”
“Uh huh.”
“Since when is that a thing?”
“I don’t know. I guess she’s just being nice.” Joe gave a salute and scampered out of Damian’s office as if the hounds of hell were on his heels, leaving Damian to stare after him with a scowl. If he didn’t have a file on Abby in front of him, he would have given Joe and his mother’s too friendly relationship more thought. However, his mind was too consumed with what he would find out about the vivacious Abby.
With a long exhale, he flipped the folder open and reluctantly began to read. Minutes later, Damian sat back with a grin. Abby had been truthful about everything. She’d only left out one detail—about where she really lived. He'd assumed she resided in the den of snakes, but she rented a small apartment on the outskirts of the city, far enough from her family. He couldn’t hold it against her. He rarely allowed anyone to know where he lived either. Plus, he hadn’t really asked her about her living arrangements.
“Abigail Aldridge,” he whispered. A twenty-six-year-old gallery curator with degrees in art history, English literature, and business studies. She recently applied for a job at a small gallery not far from his office. She didn’t fall into the category of a spoiled socialite. She worked for a living, and he couldn’t be more pleased. It appeared that her refreshing personality was no act. Since the age of eighteen, she’d been away from the rest of the Aldridge family, studying in London. Six years of studying and one-year touring Europe, then she ended up in New York. It seemed daddy’s money took her to many places, and she made good use of her financial resources. Good for her. She didn’t stay in New York for long because she returned home after her father died.
Damian stared at the file, his grin broadening. Art history. A gallery curator. No way would Abby make millions in that field. So, she really wasn’t interested in riches after all. Suddenly, the urge to hear her voice mounted, and he gave in. It was early, but somehow he knew she was up and about.
“Hello?” she answered hesitantly and breathlessly.
He could hear the wind whipping in the background. “Abby, it’s Damian.”
She didn’t respond immediately. “Um … Hi, Damian. This is a surprise.”
“You weren’t expecting me to use your phone number after I asked for it?”
Her laugh was soft and breathy, music to his ears. He imagined the pleasure he would get to hear her so breathless while he pleasured her. “Of course I did, just not so soon. I know how you men are. You like to make a girl wait so as not to appear too eager.”
Damian smiled. “I’m not most men. If I’m interested, I don’t see the point in any delay.” If he wanted something, he went for it, and he got it. He wanted Abby, and she would be his for as long as he wanted. Period.
“I’m starting to see that,” she said.
“Is this a bad time? You sound busy.”
“I’m jogging. I can talk.”
“Jogging? Alone?” A feeling of protectiveness came out of nowhere, and he scowled. That protective streak was reserved for the only family he had left, his mother and his cousin, sometimes even his only friend, Joe.
“No, with my brother, who's sorry ass I left in my du
st. I wish he could hear me say that,” she said.
Damian found himself grinning like an idiot at the sound of her laughter. Her brother, Wyatt Aldridge, was another member of the clan whom he barely recognized as any threat. Like Abby, the young man had remained off of his radar, rarely seen with the rest of the family. “I take it you have a competitive streak.”
“Oh yeah. Always have. I used to take pleasure in crushing the competition when I was on the debate team in high school. I was a monster.”
Rubbing his chin, he swallowed a laugh. “Debate? Yeah, I’m sure you were a real monster.”
“Hey, the world of high school debate can be very cutthroat.”
“I’m sure,” he said. Abby was a bit of a nerd, and he loved it. Why hadn’t he ever paid attention to the intellectual girls in high school or even now? He would have been better off.
“So, what’s up?”
“I want a repeat of our impromptu date yesterday.”
“That was a date?”
“Of a sort. I want to do better this time around. Take you somewhere nicer.”
“I see.”
The slight hesitation in her tone irritated him. Did she not enjoy their lunch yesterday? She appeared to have had a good time. “Is there a problem?”
“Not at all.” Her tone was much more chipper than it was seconds ago. “I’d love to have a repeat of our date ... I had a nice time.”
Damian shoved down the suspicion that had risen at her sudden change in attitude. “Dinner and a surprise. I’ll pick you up at six. Sound good?”
“A surprise? I don’t like surprises. I never have since my parents hired a creepy-ass looking clown for my sixth birthday party. He jumped out at me and I think I pissed my pants. I can’t quite remember. It was so long ago.”
He didn’t know how to react to her story at first. Abby seemed to just say whatever it was she wanted to say. Slowly, his mouth stretched into a smile, until he dissolved into laughter. Damian’s chuckle surprised even his assistant who had just arrived. The man peered into Damian’s office wide-eyed. “You’ll like this surprise, I promise. No clowns.”
She huffed. “Alright. See you at six.”
Before he could ask where to pick her up, she was gone. Of course she expected him to pick her up at the Aldridge mansion. He wasn’t supposed to know about her apartment.
“Everything alright, Mr. Coldwell?”
Damian glanced up to see Jason Arias, peeking around his door. The man swept the office with a concerned expression. “Of course, Jason. Why?”
“I heard you laughing.”
A brow went up. “And that’s cause for concern?”
Jason pursed his lips, swallowing a smile. “It sounded very...foreign…coming from in here. Remember, you have an eight o’clock meeting. I’ll have everything ready.”
“Thank you.” With his office door closed, a smile tugged at Damian’s mouth. Laughter coming from his office was, indeed, a very strange occurrence. Angry associates storming out was more of a norm than the sound of laughter.
Sitting back in his chair, Damian stared at his cell, his conversation with Abby on his mind. For the first time in a long while, he was eagerly anticipating a date.
Chapter Eight
Abby
It was supposed to be one of those nights that a woman looked forward to—a date with a hotter than hell man who happened to be filthy rich. Most women would be ecstatic to be dressed up like a Barbie, waiting for such a man to collect her for a nice evening. Abby dreaded the entire affair. Another few hours in Damian’s company plotting to betray him. How did people do it? How did her mother and sister stomach the doing of such vile things? Abby knew for a fact that Elaina had slept with several men for reasons other than being attracted to them. Her sister proudly bragged about her past conquests, and Abby always thought it was disgusting.
Now, she was doing the same thing. As much as Damian deserved everything he would get, she felt like she was quickly losing herself as the instrument of his destruction. Staring into the full-length mirror, Abby felt the sudden urge to take off her pale blue dress and tear it to shreds, then rip out every pin that held her hair up in the elegant up-do. Although the clothes she wore this time were hers, she felt like she was looking at someone else. She hated the person looking back at her.
Abby was sure she wouldn’t be feeling so horrible if she hadn’t enjoyed yesterday’s lunch with her enemy so much. Why did Damian have to be so charming? He’d been the epitome of a gentleman and a great conversationalist. She’d wanted to slap him for being so damn nice. Now, she felt twice as horrible for her part in conspiring against him. Then, he’d called that morning, and the sound of his voice had sent a jolt of energy through her. His sexy baritone had perked her up more than a triple shot of espresso.
“I hate this,” she said. “I hate myself.”
“Now, now, baby sis, don’t say that. You’re not a complete loss.”
Abby closed her eyes and pulled in a deep breath. “Now is not a good time, Elaina.”
Elaina floated to the bed and crossed her legs. “I just came in to make sure you weren’t wearing some basic and totally inappropriate outfit for your date. I’m pleasantly surprised. You actually look good. Where did you get the dress? It isn’t mine.”
“God, Elaina, I do own a few decent dresses. I just choose not to wear them unless it’s necessary.” Abby paused and wheeled around. “Did you just say I look good?” She eyed her sister suspiciously. “What are you up to?”
“Why would I be up to anything?” she asked. “Of course you’re not accustomed to compliments on your looks. I mean, you always look like a hobo.”
“Ah, and the real Elaina has returned.”
She rolled her eyes and folded her arms under her ridiculously enormous breasts. Abby wanted to laugh. But a verbal brawl with Elaina was something she could do without. She was already on edge about seeing Damian again so soon.
“You’ve delivered your once in a lifetime compliment, Elaina. Thanks. You can leave now.” When Elaina remained silent. Abby regarded her sister with uncertainty. “What’s with you, anyway?”
“I’ve been thinking.”
Clutching her chest with mock surprise, Abby gasped. “You mean you’re capable of such a feat?” A cold stare capable of freezing body parts was sent her way, and she stifled her laughter. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I mean, this is what we do, the verbal sparring. That’s been our relationship since I was old enough to talk.”
“Yes, because you’ve always been an irritating little brat.”
“I believe brat describes you better than it does me,” Abby said.
“Just shut up for a second, Abby. How have you ever held on to a man with all the talking that you do?”
I haven’t, Abby thought on the verge of laughter. But she wasn’t about to give her sister the satisfaction of such a confession. “Fine. I’ll shut up. Speak.”
“I’ve been thinking about what mom had said yesterday. About Daddy still being alive if he’d listened to her. Didn’t you find it strange?”
“Of course I did.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I always say something, and all it ever gets me is Celeste resenting me more.”
“Since when do you give a rat’s ass about Mom’s approval?”
Abby sighed. Since forever. She simply hid her desire to have her mother look at her with approval exceptionally well. Her nonchalance when it came to her mother’s treatment of her was something she’d practiced and perfected over the years. Abby turned to stare out the window. “I didn’t say I cared. I’m just tired of always being the mouthpiece is all.”
“Great time to start controlling your tongue, Abbs.”
“Don’t call me that. Only Wyatt is allowed to call me that.”
“Oh, I forgot. I’m not a member of your geeky sibling club,” Elaina said. She got up and stomped to the door.
Taken aback, Abby s
tared at her retreating sister. Were Elaina’s feelings really hurt? No way. The woman was incapable of feeling. But when Elaina didn’t turn around to give her one last jab, Abby’s concern rose. “Elaina? Wait.”
Elaina whipped around. “What?”
“I’m sorry. Are we finished? Talking about what mom said yesterday, I mean.”
Elaina, stood in the hallway and looked right and then left. “I suppose it’s best we are finished.”
Abby threw her arms up. “Great time for everyone to start being cryptic.” Before she could process her conversation with her sister or work herself into another guilt trip about lying to Damian, her phone buzzed. It had to be him. It was six o’clock on the dot. Of course, he wouldn’t be late. His text told her he was outside.
Awesome. She had to force herself into character as she grabbed her coat and made her way downstairs. She’d hoped she wouldn’t see Celeste before she left, but her mother was there to greet her with her usual frosty demeanor at the bottom of the spiral staircase.
“Abigail, you look presentable. Good. Remember why you’re doing this. Don’t get caught up in Coldwell’s charm.”
“Please, Mom … He is not that charming.” She looked at the floor. A lie. A big fat one. “I’m sure I can resist.”
“Good. Don’t disappoint me, Abigail.”
“Never ...” She wondered if Celeste caught the sarcasm behind her words. It seemed to Abby that she’d been nothing but a disappointment to her mother since the day she was born. It was a relief when she stepped outside and inhaled. It would be great if she didn’t have to come back to the mansion after her date but she had to keep up the pretense. What she would give to be at her cozy apartment curled up on the sofa with a glass of wine and a good book.
“Your face is like an open book. What’s wrong?”
Abby gasped and halted, her gaze rising to land on Damian. He was leaning against a sleek, black car instead of the tiny silver sports car he’d driven the day before. “Nice car.”
His lips curled into the boyish smile that she’d gotten a glimpse of yesterday. “A lady told me tiny sports cars don’t suit me.”
