“Things are always busy,” he says.
He’s pulling away from me, and my heart aches. My hope was he’d see me in this beautiful dress and want to hug or kiss me, but he didn’t.
He sits stiffly in the seat across from me and stares at my legs until we reach the venue, and the driver opens the door.
People surround Rose, but she notices our arrival and waves us over. Being the gentleman his mother raised, Damon guides me to her before stepping away.
With a look of satisfaction, Rose announces I’m perfectly dressed for the event.
“Where did you get that dress? It’s beautiful.”
“Damon said you sent it.” I look over my shoulder to find him, but he’s not there.
“It’s not from me. He must have picked it out.” She touches the beading at my shoulder. “He has impeccable taste, don’t you think?” She smiles with pride.
“You raised him well.” Shock addles my brain. What’s the deal with him? He buys me this amazing dress and then keeps his distance. I don’t understand what message he’s trying to send. Does he want to be with me or not?
He walks up with two glasses of champagne.
I lean in and whisper, “Thanks for the dress. It’s beautiful.”
He smiles warmly and whispers back, “No one but you could wear that dress. It was made for you.”
I’m touched by the sincerity in his voice but confused by his immediate disappearance into the crowd.
I sip my champagne and mingle with Rose. A handsome gentleman approaches, and Rose introduces him as Russell, an anesthesiologist at the hospital where she works. Russell lifts my hand and places a lingering kiss there. Embarrassed, I tug it back and turn away.
Off to my right, Damon stands with a scowl intimidating enough to scare the devil himself. He looks at Russel and then at me before he walks away—again.
Rose does her best to introduce me to every sexy, single, and successful man in the room like she’s trying to set me up, while Damon just stands at the perimeter looking apoplectic.
“All this attention you’re getting isn’t sitting well with my son.”
I feel his penetrating eyes on me. The heat from his fiery gaze is like lava on my skin. “I don’t think he cares.” I lie.
“Oh, he cares, and this will teach him to not leave you alone.” Rose bursts into a fit of laughter as she moves toward their private box. “Something rare is always desired, but it’s the smart man who claims it first. Let’s see if tonight puts a flame under my son’s ass.” She takes another look at Damon and snickers. “Shall we, Katarina?”
Rose is not someone I want to anger because she doesn’t play fair.
The performance is wonderful, the company is lovely, and my champagne glass is never empty. During the intermission, Damon broods in the back of the box while his mother occupies me every minute.
When it’s time to leave, I realize I’m drunk. Rose and I giggle as we totter our way to waiting cars. Damon climbs into the car next to me, and I immediately reach for a glass and the decanter of wine.
“Do you think you should drink more, Katarina?” The sarcasm drips from his voice.
“Oh, you speak?” I lift the decanter into the air. “I probably shouldn’t drink more, but I will because what could have been the best night of my life, got ruined by you.” I fill my glass full and lean over to slurp the top so that I don’t spill.
“Me? Do you think you could have talked to any more men? You made it through the whole audience. All that was left was the orchestra, and given enough time, I’m sure you would have charmed them too.”
“I talked to others because you didn’t talk to me.” I take a big gulp of wine. “What does it matter, anyway? I don’t belong to you. You don’t date, and a man who doesn’t date can’t claim a woman.” I toss back my glass of wine and pour another. “What’s wrong with me? Am I so awful you can’t stand to be near me?”
He leans back and rubs his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re perfect. If I could give you what you needed, I’d sweep you up and keep you, but I’ll never be that man.”
“Can’t, or won’t? There’s a difference,” I say coldly.
He sits in silence and watches me toss back two more glasses.
I barely register the car stopping and Damon telling the driver to wait. My body moves, but I don’t know how. Cool air brushes my face when I get outside. My feet don’t hit the ground, which means I’m in Damon’s arms.
I trace his lips with my finger. “Your lips are mind-blowing. You don’t know what they do to me, but when we kiss, my body erupts.” My words slur, but he hears me. “I had big dreams for you, buddy, but you’re impossible,” I poke at the knot of his tie. “I could love you, but you keep pushing me away. Tonight, I wanted to climb into your lap and have you hold me.” Sighing, I continue. “But you couldn’t get far enough away from me. I know in my heart you’d be worth the effort. Too bad you don’t see your potential.” My head flops to his shoulder. “The girl who wins your heart will be the luckiest girl in the world.”
My head spins, or maybe the room spins. Either way, I close my eyes, and the last recollection I have is him kissing my lips and telling me I’d have won his heart if he had one to give.
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, I wake to my alarm and a massive headache. The last thing I remember was leaving the concert. I was furious with Damon, but everything after I entered the car is vague.
I’m not sure how I got into my house or undressed and into my bed. I had to be in better shape than I thought because my dress hangs nicely in the closet, and my shoes and jewelry are in their place.
Needing to quell the headache, I drag myself to the kitchen, and on the table sits a note with two aspirin and a glass of water.
Sorry,
Damon
In a flash, it all comes back.
The ride.
The wine.
My confession of love.
Things are unclear after that, but deep down, I know he undressed me and tucked me into bed.
I press my hands to my aching head and moan. I need time to get over this headache and the regrets that come with it, but I have to suffer through it to complete my final day at Java Joes.
When I get home, I’ll climb in bed and stay there until Monday morning.
A morning huddle with Trevor starts the week before I chain myself to my desk to work on the gift bags. The watches I worked on getting are now a guarantee. So far, the gifts range from spa days to Cristal Champagne. I wait for word on the chocolates and silk scarves I requested.
Thoughts of silk scarves bring Damon to mind.
Redirecting my musings, I inventory the things I received. There are bags, books, videos, CDs, watches, hotel stays, Anthony Haywood gift certificates, and so much more. The value sits at close to six thousand dollars for each bag, but I’m reaching for ten.
Trevor walks to my cubicle and asks me to follow him upstairs for a company meeting. On the tenth floor, human resources is giving a safety seminar.
We file into the large room where at least three hundred people sit waiting. I find a space in the least conspicuous place and focus on the seminar about network security. It lasts less than thirty minutes and bores the staff to death. I half expect to see Damon, but relief floods through me when I don’t.