Chapter 6: Why Are You Doing This For Me
1062 Words
JANET’S POV
The next morning, I went straight to a trendy coffee shop a block away from his office building.
“Good morning”
The barista— a young man with more piercings, looked at me with disdain as I ordered Damon’s secret shame.
“One venti caramel macchiato,” I muttered, “but with an extra pump of caramel, an extra pump of vanilla, and yes, I do want the whipped cream. All of it. Make it look like a diabetic coma in a cup.”
He blinked, “w… what? Your order is $100.”
I just winked as I passed my card to him.
“Here’s your order.” the barista said.
“Thanks.”
I walk confidently into the lobby of Sterling-Blackwood Tower. Carrying a huge sugary treat and my favorite black coffee,
I don't know but anytime I enter this building, the air always feels different. Seeing staff pacing with this kind of expression. That means there is an issue in the marketing department.
There I was carrying a beverage that looked like a child’s birthday cake, and even my dress didn't stand out, like I was totally out of place.
I walk toward the elevator and press floor 44. Damon's office. I walked in and the elevator closed.
Damon’s executive assistant—Maria. A terrifying woman who never smiles genuinely, gave me a nod as I walked past her desk.
“He’s on a call, Ms. Clark.”
“He’ll want to take this one,” I said, holding up the cups as proof. “It’s a caffeine emergency.”
Maria’s lips twitched as I smiled and pushed the heavy door to his office only to see him staring at a sheet of paper.
I knew he wasn't on a call, Maria was lying. He somehow looks exhausted, more like a ghost.
“Hey,” I said, closing the door behind me.
He startled, his head snapping up.
“Jan,” he muttered. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I’m stealthy,” I said, walking over and placing the coffee cups on his desk. I pushed the sugary concoction toward him.
“I bring peace offerings and poor life choices. You look like you need both.”
He looked at the cup as if it were unfamiliar, then slowly raised his eyes to meet mine. “Thank you,” he murmured.
“Don’t thank me yet. That thing could probably dissolve,” I said, I sat down on one of the chairs opposite his desk. I took a sip of my own coffee, as I studied him.
“Okay, spill. What did they do? Threaten to replace you with an AI robot?”
He flinched slightly then picked up a pen, turning it over and over in his fingers.
“Nothing. It was just… the whole evening.”
“That made you look like you’ve been sentenced to a lifetime of hard labor?” I countered. “Damon, talk to me. This isn't your usual self. This is worse.”
He finally put the pen down and rubbed his hand over his face, feeling defeated. He looked at me.
“It’s the marriage thing again,” he muttered. “For the empire’s future. The pressure is just… escalating. It’s something I couldn’t refuse.”
“Oh God,” I said, leaning forward. “They really want you to get married to Isabella to confuse the world about your sexuality, right?
He nodded.
“They want to see me in a stable, public relationship,” he said. “They believe it’s important for the company’s image and the family’s reputation.”
“Image,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “God forbid the world thinks the CEO of Sterling-Blackwood is a happy, successful, married man. No, that's too harsh. They didn't worry about you.
This is nonsense. “They want you to marry a woman without your will?”
The pen I thought he had dropped earlier suddenly broke, echoing in the office. He stared at the two broken pieces in his hand, his knuckles turning white.
“I'm fed up,” he whispered. Rubbing his hand on his forehead.
“That's, you can’t let them do this to you, Damon. You can’t let them dictate your life. Your personal life. You’re the most powerful person in this building so Act like—”
“Enough!” I trembled due to the shock.
He took a deep breath.
“I'm sorry, I don't just want to talk about them.” he said, “They don’t deserve my day.”
He looked at me “I want to talk about something important. I want to talk about you.”
His words cut through me.
“Me?”
“Yes,” he said. He rose and came to stand beside me, leaning his back against the desk, crossing his arms. “Your presentation yesterday was more than brilliant, Janet. It was visionary. You see where this company needs to go five years before anyone else even sees the road.”
I felt a blush creep up my cheek. “I have good data.”
“You have potential,” he corrected. He leaned in and he tucked the strand of my hair on my cheek behind my ear. Staring at my face, our faces are inches apart. My blush is getting obvious.
“Is there something on my face?”
“Oh.." I'm sorry., I got carried away” he muttered pushing himself back.
“I’m creating a new strategic division,” he announced. “An internal incubator for our most forward-thinking brand initiatives. We’re calling it the Phoenix Initiative. And I want you to run it.”
I stared at him, speechless. “Run it? Damon, that’s… I mean…”
“Carte blanche,” he said. “ “You will manage your own budget and report directly to me. I believe you and your team will make an impact for the sake of me, Janet. I trust you.”
Is making me the next of kin? Or what? It is what I can help with but it's a huge offer for my position, and something I haven't dared to dream of.
“I… I don’t know what to say,” I stammered. But why are you doing this for me?”
- Writer
