Meant To Be

Two

Damian listened to her phone ring and urged her to pick up. He needed to know that she was okay, that Alfred was okay, God, that kid hadn't looked, or sounded, good. And he wasn't talking about the bruise his fist made on his jaw. He wasn't quite sure why Zach helped Claire get away from the scene, but he sure was not comfortable about it. Her phone went to voicemail and he dropped a hard “Call me” order into her message system.

Damian placed the bourbon bottles on the coffee table, sat down in the chair opposite George, and rested his forearms on his knees. He released a series of low but intense f-bombs.

“That kind of sums up my feelings about the evening,” George commented. “I've been damage control but there's not much spin you can generate when everything is caught on video and then live-streamed.

Damian winced. “How many views?”

“Far too many.” George lifted his glass in a sarcastic salute. “I've got to admit, when Claire messes up, she does it properly.”

Tossing, from side to side in the Presidential Suite, Damian was angry that Claire was being blamed for how the event ended.

“She didn't know her brother was in town, never had in mind that he was going to do that,” Damian retorted.

“So defending her seems to be your default reaction tonight,” George commented, hitting the nail on its head.

Damian sent his best friend a hard stare. “What's your point, George?”

“It's been one drama after another with her, starting with the fact that you thought she had an affair with your dad.”

“She explained that. My father was her mentor and good friend.”

George rolled his eyes. “They had to be very good friends do him to leave Claire a twenty-five-percent take in Garcia’s Corporation worth millions.

When George put it like that, all his fears and insecurities about their relationship floated to the surface. Was he being conned? Could he believe Claire’s version of what happened? In his final hours, Steven did confirm that there had been nothing between them but friendship and Damian wanted to believe him. But he'd been raised to believe that everyone lies so how the hell could he trust anything they said? Anything anybody said?

He thought he could, at least, trust his parents to some degree but their latest lie had been the biggest of his life. As his father lay dying, he realized that it was scientifically impossible that his parents, with their blood groups, could produce a child with his blood group. Ergo, only one of them was his biological parent or he was adopted. Hell of a thing to realize at the age of thirty-two.

Was it any wonder he was so messed up when it came to relationships?

It was late and Damian was done with talking. He wanted this conversation to end so he told George that Claire wanted nothing more to do with him. Damian caught the look of relief on George's face. “You're happy about that?”

George shook his head. “Happy is the wrong word…” He sat up, swinging his feet off the table. “It's just that relationships shouldn't be this hard, Bud. Over the last few months, you've bought that she's a liar, a gold digger, and an opportunist. You slept with her and then slept with other women.”

No, he hadn't. I tried to sleep with someone else to get her out of my system.”

George waved his explanation away. “Whatever. She hit the tabloids, dragging you along with her. Those scumsuckers informed the world that she had an affair with your father and that she only slept with Steven to get her hands on the company.”

He knew this. He's goddamn lived it. “Do you have a point and are you going to get to it in the near future?”

“My point is that, while I actually like Claire—”

“You could've fooled me.” Damian’s interjection was bone-dry.

“I do like her,” George said. “She's smart, super organized and she's an amazing event planner. Yeah, I'm mad as hell that tonight ended the way it did, but intellectually, I get that it wasn't her fault. But her career did not need this as if she was boycotted before, it's going to be nothing like what's going to happen to her now.”

Damian gripped the bridge of his nose. God.

George's long sigh was audible. “But at the end of the day, my loyalty is to you. And, as your friend, I am telling you that I don't think she is good for you because, frankly, you look like crap.”

Well, that wasn't news.

“Are you in love with her?”

Damian’s head shot up and his eyes slammed into George’s. His throat closed as panic crept up. In his snappier moments lately, he'd flirted with the idea of love, but that was just a result of hormones and stupendous s*x. No, of course, he wasn't in love with Claire; he didn't believe in love. But he was attracted to her, stupidly so. He croaked a “No.”

George stood up and gripped his shoulder. “Can I then just point out that this woman you profess not to live has the innate ability to mess with your head and your life? That's an enormous amount of power for someone you just like to sleep with.”

Crap-hell-dammit.

“Go to bed, George.”

George smiled for the first time that evening. “Yep, that's where I'm heading. Into the arms of the woman who, instead of messing with my head and life, actually makes my life better and brighter.”

Damian glared at his friend as he walked back into the hotel room and thought about returning to his own suite, to the empty kindly-size bed waiting for him. But the night was mild, this sofa was quite comfortable and he had a bottle to keep him company. And really, he had too much in his mind to sleep.

Damian lay back tucked a pillow under his head and watched the light of airlines move between the stars.