As he turns and makes my order, I glance down at my phone and reread my last text as a smile forms on my lips.
“You have a gorgeous smile,” a deep voice says. I glance to my left; my smile more forced than it was moments ago. He’s an attractive man but he looks like the kind of man my mother would set me up with and it makes him hideous in my opinion.
“Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” he practically purrs, flashing me a smile designed to make women swoon, but I see past him. His eyes hone in on me, a mission in his gaze and the calculating smile and designer suit say more than he is. My mother would absolutely lose her shit for a man like him. “I’m Damian Griggs. It’s nice to meet you…”
“Carly,” I supply and he holds his hand out. I reluctantly shake it as the hair on my arm stands on end and I can’t rip my hand away fast enough.
“Wait. Carly Mills?”
I nod, feeling uneasy. “Yeah.”
“I think I know your mother. Grace Mills?”
Of course, he does. It becomes clear this is retaliation for my outburst at breakfast and I have to bite my lip to keep myself from saying anything that would earn me an earful from my mother. I bet she took one look at him and had to physically stop herself from salivating over the possibility of hooking him up with me.
“Yep. That’s her.” I turn away to face the counter and wait for my coffee because I have nothing left to say to this man. I’m sure he thinks knowing my mother gives him some kind of advantage, but it couldn’t be further from the truth. Just as I think I may get out of here without having to speak to Damian again, I feel him behind me, closer than is acceptable for a woman you met only two minutes ago.
“I have to say, your mother’s description of you didn’t do you justice.”
Why am I not surprised? Laughing, I shake my head, refusing to turn around and face him. “Am I supposed to be flattered?”
He’s silent for a moment before softly chuckling in my ear. Goose bumps race along my skin and my body tenses in response. “Guess not. I like how you call me on my shit, though.”
The barista saves me from saying anything else as he sets my drink down on the counter in front of me and I offer him a smile as I reach into my bag. Before I can even touch my wallet, Damian steps forward and snaps his fingers at the barista.
“One coffee, black. And I’ve got all this.” He motions to my order as the barista nods and gets to work, rushing to complete his order.
“Thank you but you don’t have to do that,” I object.
Damian turns and leans back against the counter, slipping his hands into his pockets as he smiles at me. “And what if I want to?”
“I appreciate it, but I would just prefer to buy my food.” I grab a twenty out of my wallet and try to reach around him to lay it on the counter, but he stops me, wrapping his hand around mine with the money still in my fist.
“Please, I insist.” He smiles again, laying on the charm but all it does is creep me out more. I know guys like him. They were born into wealthy families and have more self-esteem than any one person needs—making them think every woman should drop to her knees as soon as they enter the room. I’ve been down this road before and nothing about it appeals to me.
The barista sets Damian’s coffee down and tells him the total but I’m not paying attention as I stuff my money back into my purse and try to grab my things so I can get out of here. I grab the muffin, but the coffee is just out of my reach and I contemplate if I really need it. As I think about going through my morning without it, though, I know the answer is a resounding yes. Damian turns, the same creepy smile on his face, and my coffee in his hand.
“Here you go, gorgeous.”
I force a smile as I take the coffee from him. “Thank you.”
“Do you have a moment? I’d love to sit and talk to you a little more,” he suggests, looking to the empty tables scattered throughout the café and I shake my head.
“Sorry. I’m already running late for work.”
Backing away toward the door, I try to look like I’m not running away from him even if that is exactly what I want to do right now. Lord knows, if I did that, my mother would call my phone within the hour to yell at me about manners before she started in on the man topic… again. Lord knows, I’ve already had all I can take of my mother today.
“Take this,” he says, handing me a business card I don’t want. “And call me whenever you’re free. I’d love to take you out.”
My smile is so forced I’m afraid my face may crack as I nod and duck out the front door, waiting until I round the corner before tossing the business card in a nearby trash can. The click of my heels against the sidewalk calms my heartbeat and as I walk the remaining block to work, I can’t help but think of Chance and compare him to my run-in with Damian. He’s different in every way and I can’t help but think maybe it’s not such a bad thing.
Chapter Six
Carly
“I knew it,” I whisper, twisting in the mirror to get a look at the back of the dress my mother “suggested”. It’s worse than I even imagined with the deep V that stretches down to my belly button while also showing off so much side boob it’s almost obscene. I’ll have to use a whole damn roll of tape to keep my tits from popping out during the silent auction. And the back is no better. The material clings like a second skin and the way the dress is cut in the back frames my ass, making it look even larger than it is. The black lace is pretty but I’m straddling the line between risqué and just plain desperate. Shaking my head, I run my hands down the front and sigh. My mother bought this dress with one purpose in mind—to snag me a man. I wonder when her daughters became meal tickets for her instead of people. Hell, maybe we always were.
The doorbell rings, pulling my attention away from the mirror and I sigh, grabbing some fabric so it doesn’t drag on the floor as I walk across the living room and throw the door open without looking through the peephole first.
“Damn, Princess,” Chance says, flashing me a killer smile as his gaze lingers on my chest and he places his hand over his heart. My lips twitch, barely holding back my satisfied smile, as I roll my eyes and hold the door open for him. He steps inside, carrying a bag of takeout, and I close the door. “You didn’t have to dress up for little old me.”
“I didn’t dress up for you, egomaniac. You’re not the only thing in my life.”
His brow arches and his eyes darken as he sets the food on the island. “I damn well better be the only man in your life. We had a deal.”
“I said thing, not man and not really,” I tease him, my blood racing with the thought of getting him riled up. Why does egging him on excite me so much? “You threw out your rule, but I never agreed to it.”
Ignoring his glare, I stride toward the fridge and open the door, fighting back a smile as I search the shelves for a bottle of wine. As soon as he steps up behind me, I can feel him, almost like there’s a magnetic pull between us, and he grabs my hips, pulling me back into his body. Ever so slowly, he runs his nose up the side of my neck before his warm breath brushes over my ear.