Playing For Keeps

Four

"Not every rescue is an act of kindness. Sometimes, it’s just the start of a new game."

♤

Damien was stunned.

He had thought the little lawyer had audacity but he must have underestimated her level of audacity. The audacity to not reply to his text.

Standing with his face to the ceiling-to-floor window that held the view of the city, his hands in the pockets of his pants, he watched the busy streets and listened to Gideon’s mocking laughter.

“Annoying piece of shit.” He hissed but that only made Gideon laugh more.

“Not only does she whip your ass in court, now you're begging for a response from her?” He shot, barking out another series of laughter.

“This whole thing seems to amuse you, huh?” Damien asked, scrunching up a paper and tossing it at him. Gideon dodged it in time and continued laughing.

“It just feels good seeing someone actually put you in a situation you always put others in.” Gideon said with a little smile and Damien shook his head with a smirk.

“It may be funny. But you know I always have the last laugh. I hope you're going to be laughing this way when I'm winning.” Just then, his phone beeped and he and Gideon scrambled for the phone like babies.

Picking up the phone, he opened it and a broad smile appeared on his face like he had won a jackpot.

“You know I never lose. I've never been one to lose.” He said as he showed Gideon the reply from who he had been expecting since the previous night.

Damien’s smirk deepened as he read the message, but then his brow twitched. His fingers tightened around the phone.

"What?" Gideon leaned forward, intrigued.

Damien exhaled sharply through his nose and turned the screen toward him.

"Oh, this is gold," Gideon burst out laughing again, his eyes tearing up.

The message read:

"Did you lose a bet, or are you just bored? Either way, I’m not interested."

Damien blinked. Once. Twice. Then let out a dry chuckle. "She thinks she's funny."

"No," Gideon wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. "She is funny. And clearly, she doesn’t give a damn about your fragile ego."

Damien turned away, jaw tightening. No one had ever spoken to him like that. No one had dared. The women in his world fell into two categories: the ones who wanted him and the ones who wanted to be him. But her? She was something else entirely.

His lips curled into something between amusement and challenge.

“Sending this reply is the very first positive step. She isn't going to know what hit her.” He said.

Damien sat on his chair and picked up a pen, scribbling on a piece of paper while running through some thoughts. He wasn't going to respond to her text—at least not now. He had to take a step back and restrategize. If she was going to play hard to get, then he would have to play harder.

He picked up his jacket and his phone to step out.

“Lunch on me?” He asked Gideon and Gideon got up, rushing after him.

☆☆☆☆☆

Zara had closed from work for the day. On her way back, she kept checking her phone to see if he had replied. Why hadn't he replied? She was beginning to pay too much attention to him and she didn't like it. She slipped her phone into her bag and got into her car.

Her car was a tired old sedan, probably older than her law degree. The faded blue paint had long lost its shine, with patches of rust creeping along the edges of the doors. The driver's side window refused to roll down properly, forcing her to open the door whenever she needed to speak to someone outside.

The engine coughed every time she turned the key, like it was protesting being woken up. The air conditioning worked only when it felt like it, and the radio crackled with static no matter how much she fiddled with the dial. The upholstery was worn, the fabric peeling at the edges, and the glove compartment needed a good smack to stay shut. It wasn't much but at least it was something. It could carry her from point A to point B, most of the time.

She started the ignition and as usual, it started malfunctioning.

“I’m really tired and the last thing I need right now is this.” She said, gesturing to the car. After pressing the brake and gas pedal a few times, she turned the ignition, and the car finally started.

“Thank you.” She gave a sigh of relief and drove out of the court premises. She was some few kilometers down the road when the car suddenly decided to give up. Slowing down, she tilted to one corner of the road and stepped out of the car, she quickly went to the bonnet and opened it up, looking through for what the possible cause could be. She hated being stranded. She was hungry, tired, her back ached and then the car decided to act up.

“You always choose the wrong times to malfunction.” She muttered, standing by the side of the road and watching the other cars drive away.

After about fifteen minutes without any hope, she decided to book an Uber. Going into the car, to pick her phone, an executive SUV slowed down infront of her car and she turned to find out who was in the car.

The left door of the owner’s seat opened up and someone stepped down, walking towards her. Damien Vaughn. What in the world was he doing there?

“Hey Ms. Attorney. Can't win against your car?” He teased and she rolled her eyes, annoyed.

“How did you find me? You're the last person I want to see right now.”

“I might as well be the only person that can save you and your…” He did a double take at the car and scoffed, “Is this really a car?”

“Mr. Vaughn. I would not want to disrespect you. Please leave.” She said sternly and Damien watched her in amusement.

“Get into the car. My driver would drop you off at your house. I'll get a mechanic to work on your car and get it to your house.”

“Trying to buy me?” she scoffed. “I can book an Uber and get a mechanic to work on this tomorrow. You don't always have to play billionaire god, Mr. Vaughn. I definitely can't be bought.”

Damien smirked. “I'm just helping out. Whatever happens in court, stays in court.” Just then, it started drizzling and Damien silently thanked the heavens for working for him. He looked at her and she looked back at him.

“You're going to catch a cold standing there. I'd be waiting for you. Please don't waste my time.” He said and walked back to his car. His plans were all falling in place, even nature was making it possible.

The driver got down and went to open the door for her. She slid in, taking a seat beside Damien.

“Thanks.” She muttered, not looking him in the eyes.

Damien did not pay attention to her. The driver stopped, dropped him at the office and took her to her house.

While at work, he couldn't wait to get a second text from her. He hadn't replied to her text earlier but he was going to watch her drop another text, thanking him for the ride and for the car.

He asked the driver to call the mechanics to renew the car to the best of their abilities. Repainting, changing everything old that needed to be changed.

Later that night, Damien sat on the balcony of his penthouse, a glass of whiskey in his hand. The city stretched out below him, lights twinkling in the distance. A cool breeze brushed against his skin, but he barely noticed. He took a slow sip, letting the warmth of the whiskey spread through him. The night was quiet up here, far from the noise of the streets. He stared at the skyline, his thoughts drifting, unreadable.

His phone finally beeped and he rushed to pick up the phone to check, it was her.

‘Thanks for today. I really appreciate it’. He smiled to himself, downing the whiskey in his hand. He dropped the glass and typed.

‘Now, you owe me.’