A SEAT BESIDE THE ICE...
2275 Words
Damian Blackwood had always liked his office empty.
Silence meant efficiency.
Silence meant nobody asking questions he did not care to answer.
Silence meant he could think.
Then Amara Cole became his assistant.
And suddenly, silence became impossible.
“Damian.”
He didn't look up.
“No.”
Amara blinked.
“I haven't asked anything yet.”
“You were about to.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you only say my name when you're about to irritate me.”
She placed a folder on his desk.
“I need you to sign this.”
Damian looked up.
“You interrupted me for a signature?”
“Yes.”
“You could have left it there.”
“But then I wouldn't have had the pleasure of watching you pretend not to be happy to see me.”
His expression went flat.
“Out.”
Amara smiled.
“Good morning to you too.”
She turned to leave.
“Amara.”
She stopped.
He hated how quickly she always turned back when he called her name.
“What?”
“Where are you going?”
Her eyebrows pulled together.
“You just told me to get out.”
“I changed my mind.”
“You're impossible.”
“Sit.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
“Sit.”
He gestured toward the chair beside his desk.
Amara walked slowly toward it.
“Are you feeling well?”
“Yes.”
“Did someone threaten you?”
“No.”
“Have you been replaced by a nicer twin?”
Damian's stare sharpened.
“Amara.”
She sat down immediately.
“Okay.”
For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
Damian worked.
Amara watched him.
She had seen him in meetings before, but never this closely.
He looked completely different when he was concentrating.
Still cold.
Still intimidating.
Still annoyingly handsome.
But there was something almost peaceful about him when nobody was speaking to him.
Amara immediately hated that she had noticed.
“What?” Damian asked without looking up.
She froze.
“Nothing.”
“You're staring.”
“I wasn't.”
“You were.”
She crossed her arms.
“Fine. I was.”
“Why?”
Amara considered telling him the truth.
Instead, she said, “I was wondering if you're naturally this difficult or if you take lessons.”
Damian's mouth twitched.
“There.”
“What?”
“You almost smiled.”
“I didn't.”
“You did.”
“No.”
“You're going to ruin your face from all this seriousness.”
“Leave my face alone.”
“I would, but it's always in my line of sight.”
That made him look at her.
Really look at her.
Amara's smile disappeared slowly.
Something shifted.
The office suddenly felt smaller.
Damian's eyes moved across her face with a quiet intensity that made her heart beat once too hard.
She looked away first.
“Why did you ask me to sit here?” she asked.
Damian's expression changed instantly.
The wall returned.
“I needed you.”
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
Amara looked back at him.
His jaw tightened.
“I needed the files.”
“They were already on your desk.”
Silence.
Damian looked away.
Amara's smile returned.
“Oh.”
“What?”
“You like having me here.”
“I tolerate you.”
“That's practically love coming from you.”
Damian stood.
“Meeting.”
Amara grabbed her notebook.
“I thought you were done tolerating me.”
“Unfortunately, you're coming.”
“See?” she said, following him. “You missed me.”
“I saw you three minutes ago.”
“Long three minutes.”
He glanced at her.
She smiled.
And for the rest of the morning, Damian found himself irritated by one simple fact.
She was right.
---
At lunch, Damian expected Amara to disappear.
She usually did.
Not because she wanted to escape him, apparently, but because she often went to see her younger brother or met Elias.
That realization irritated him more than it should have.
At one-thirty, his office door opened.
Amara entered carrying two bags.
Damian looked at her.
“What is that?”
“Lunch.”
“I didn't ask for lunch.”
“You also didn't ask for me to stay beside your desk this morning, yet here we are.”
His expression hardened.
She placed one bag in front of him.
He looked down.
Then back at her.
“What's this?”
“Food.”
“I can see that.”
“Then why did you ask?”
“Why did you bring it?”
Amara sat across from him.
“Because I noticed you didn't eat breakfast.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You noticed?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Your coffee was the only thing on your desk.”
He looked at the meal again.
“You bought this for me?”
“Don't make it emotional.”
“I wasn't.”
“You look like you're about to cry.”
Damian stared at her.
Amara immediately burst out laughing.
His expression became darker.
“I hate you.”
“No, you don't.”
His eyes lifted.
And this time, neither of them laughed.
Amara's smile slowly faded.
Damian said nothing.
But something in the way he looked at her made the words sound less like a joke.
---
Later that afternoon, Amara received a call.
Her face changed instantly.
Damian noticed.
“What happened?”
She stood.
“I have to go.”
“No.”
She stared at him.
“No?”
“You have a meeting with me in twenty minutes.”
“My brother called.”
“About what?”
She hesitated.
Damian's voice became quieter.
“What happened?”
“He had a problem at school. I don't know the details yet.”
The coldness left his expression.
“Which school?”
Amara gave him the name.
“Go.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Go, Amara.”
She grabbed her bag.
“Thank you.”
Damian looked back at his documents.
She reached the door.
“Damian.”
He didn't answer.
“Thank you.”
The door closed.
Damian remained still.
Then he picked up his phone.
“Find out what happened at Noah Cole's school.”
His security chief paused.
“Sir?”
“You heard me.”
“Yes, sir.”
Damian hung up.
He didn't know why he cared.
He only knew that Amara's smile had disappeared.
And somehow—
That had become a problem.
A problem he intended to fix.
---
Noah's school was almost thirty minutes away from Blackwood Holdings.
By the time Amara arrived, her heart was pounding.
She hurried through the gate and spotted her younger brother sitting outside the principal's office.
The moment he saw her, he stood.
“Amara.”
She rushed toward him.
“What happened?”
“Nothing serious.”
“Nothing serious? Noah, I left work because your teacher said you were in trouble.”
He looked away.
That was enough to make her nervous.
Amara lowered her voice.
“Talk to me.”
Noah sighed.
“A boy was talking about you.”
Her expression softened slightly.
“Talking about me how?”
“He said you only got your job because you probably flirted with some rich man.”
Amara went still.
Noah's hands tightened into fists.
“I told him to stop.”
“Oh, Noah.”
“But he kept laughing.”
Her heart sank.
“So you fought him?”
Noah remained silent.
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes.
“Please don't tell me you fought him.”
“He hit me first.”
“And?”
“And I hit him back.”
Amara pressed her lips together, trying not to smile.
“Amara.”
“I am trying to be responsible.”
“He deserved it.”
“That doesn't make fighting right.”
“He insulted you.”
She looked at him.
Noah was seventeen.
Still young.
Still stubborn.
Still the little boy who had once promised her, at only nine years old, that when he became rich, she would never have to work again.
He had no idea how much she loved him.
“You don't have to fight everyone who says something bad about me,” she said gently.
“I know.”
“But?”
“But I wanted to.”
She sighed.
Then hugged him.
“You're impossible.”
“You love me.”
“Unfortunately.”
He smiled.
Amara smiled back.
Neither of them noticed the dark car parked outside the school.
---
That evening, Amara returned to the office to collect some documents.
She expected the building to be nearly empty.
Instead, she found Damian standing near the reception area.
Waiting.
She stopped.
“What are you doing here?”
Damian looked at her.
“Working.”
“At eight in the evening?”
“Yes.”
“Your company must be exhausting.”
“It is.”
She studied him.
Then narrowed her eyes.
“You know what happened with Noah.”
It wasn't a question.
Damian said nothing.
Amara slowly crossed her arms.
“You sent someone.”
“No.”
“Damian.”
“I made a phone call.”
Her eyes widened.
“You investigated my brother's school problem?”
“I asked what happened.”
“You don't even know Noah.”
“I know he's your brother.”
Amara stared.
Damian seemed to realize how that sounded.
His expression became colder.
“You were distracted.”
“So?”
“So I wanted to know why.”
Her heart beat strangely.
She hated that.
She hated how this man could say something simple and make it sound as if it meant nothing while somehow making it mean too much.
“You didn't have to do that.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
Damian looked away.
“Because I wanted to.”
The answer came too easily.
Too honestly.
For a moment, Amara had nothing to say.
Damian walked toward the elevator.
“Are you coming?”
She followed him.
“Where are we going?”
“I'll take you home.”
“You don't have to.”
“I know.”
“Then why—”
“Amara.”
“Yes?”
“Stop asking.”
She smiled.
“No.”
Damian sighed.
And Amara realized something that made her stomach flutter.
For all his coldness—
For all his arrogance—
Damian Blackwood was beginning to let her see things nobody else did.
Tiny moments.
Small pieces.
A concern hidden behind irritation.
A kindness disguised as control.
A smile he pretended she had imagined.
And for reasons she did not understand—
She wanted to see more.
---
The drive home was quiet.
Not uncomfortable.
Just quiet.
Amara sat beside him in the back seat, looking through the window.
Damian occasionally glanced at her.
She noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You keep looking at me.”
“No, I don't.”
She turned fully toward him.
“Are you learning to lie?”
His eyebrows lowered.
“I've always known how.”
“That's not something you should be proud of.”
“I'm not.”
“You should be proud of something. You're very good at it.”
Damian looked away.
Amara laughed.
Then she became quiet again.
Damian noticed.
“What?”
She looked at him.
“You've been nicer today.”
“No, I haven't.”
“Yes, you have.”
“No.”
“You let me leave work.”
“Your brother needed you.”
“You found out what happened.”
“You were distracted.”
“You brought me home.”
“It's late.”
She smiled softly.
“You care.”
Damian's expression changed.
“No.”
Amara's smile faded.
He looked at her.
The car felt suddenly too small.
“I care about my employees,” he said.
“Oh.”
Something in her voice disappointed him.
Damian hated that.
Before he could say anything else, the car stopped.
Amara looked outside.
“This is me.”
She reached for the door.
“Amara.”
She turned.
Damian looked at her for a moment.
Then said, “Tell Noah not to fight again.”
She smiled.
“Are you worried about him too?”
“No.”
“You're terrible at lying.”
“Goodnight, Amara.”
She laughed.
“Goodnight, Damian.”
She stepped out.
Damian watched her walk toward the apartment building.
Before entering, she turned around.
She waved.
Damian stared.
Then, very slowly—
He lifted his hand.
It was barely a wave.
Amara laughed and entered the building.
The car pulled away.
Damian leaned back.
His phone buzzed.
A message from his grandfather.
Dinner this Sunday. Don't work.
Damian ignored it.
Another message arrived.
And bring the girl you keep mentioning.
Damian stared at the screen.
Then typed:
There is no girl.
His grandfather immediately replied.
Your grandmother says you smiled yesterday.
Damian's jaw tightened.
He placed the phone down.
Then looked out the window.
Amara's smile appeared in his mind.
Again.
Damian closed his eyes.
This was becoming a problem.
A very serious problem.
Because Damian Blackwood had spent his entire life believing that needing someone was weakness.
And every day—
He was beginning to need Amara Cole a little more.
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