Chapter 2: The Offer
1739 Words
For the next week, Damien Blackwood became a part of Scarlett's routine.
He arrived every morning at precisely nine o'clock, ordered a black coffee, and occupied the same corner table near the window. At first, Scarlett convinced herself it was coincidence. New Yorkers were creatures of habit. Plenty of customers came in at the same time every day. Yet none of those customers spent hours sitting in the café with their attention fixed on her.
By the fourth day, even Mia had stopped pretending not to notice.
"He likes you."
Scarlett rolled her eyes as she wiped down the counter. "Or maybe he likes the coffee."
Mia glanced toward Damien's table and snorted. "Nobody likes our coffee that much."
Scarlett followed her gaze despite herself. Damien was seated exactly where he always sat, one hand resting on the table while he listened to someone speaking through an earpiece. His expression remained calm, but there was an authority about him that seemed impossible to ignore. Even from across the room, he commanded attention.
The person on the other end of the call was clearly upsetting him.
Scarlett could tell from the way his jaw tightened.
A moment later, his voice carried across the café.
"If she made another pass at me after being warned, terminate her employment immediately."
Scarlett nearly dropped the cup she was holding.
Several customers looked up.
Damien didn't seem to notice.
"Her qualifications are irrelevant," he continued coldly. "She crossed a professional boundary. That's enough."
The call ended shortly afterwards.
Scarlett stared at him.
A few seconds later, Damien looked up and caught her watching.
Instead of looking embarrassed, he simply raised an eyebrow.
As if daring her to comment.
She immediately looked away.
Unfortunately, that only made her more curious.
When the lunch rush slowed, Damien approached the counter.
"You're staring."
Scarlett almost choked on her own breath.
"I was not."
The corner of his mouth twitched.
"You were."
"You fired someone."
"I did."
"Over flirting?"
Damien's expression hardened slightly. "Over ignoring a direct warning."
Scarlett folded her arms.
"That seems harsh."
"It was necessary."
His answer came without hesitation.
Scarlett shook her head.
The man was impossible.
Everything about him seemed controlled. Calculated. Certain.
As though he had never doubted a decision in his life.
For some reason, she found that irritating.
"You know," she said, "most people would at least pretend to feel bad."
A flicker of amusement appeared in his eyes.
"Most people aren't me."
That, annoyingly, was true.
Over the following days, their conversations grew longer.
Nothing important.
Nothing personal.
At least not at first.
They talked about New York.
About coffee.
About the weather.
Sometimes, Damien would ask questions about her hometown, and she found herself telling him stories she hadn't shared with anyone since moving to the city.
Bozeman.
The mountains.
The quiet streets.
The way everyone knew everyone.
He listened carefully whenever she spoke.
Not politely.
Not absentmindedly.
Actually, I listened.
It was unsettling.
Most people waited for their turn to talk.
Damien paid attention.
One rainy afternoon, she found herself speaking about her mother before she realized what she was doing.
The memory caught her off guard.
One moment, she was discussing Montana.
The next, she was staring out the window while grief tightened around her chest.
"My mom loved sunsets," she said quietly. "She used to sit on our porch every evening just to watch them."
Damien remained silent.
Waiting.
Listening.
Encouraging her to continue without saying a word.
"She wanted me to leave after..." Scarlett swallowed hard. "After she got sick."
The words still hurt.
A year later, they always would.
"She didn't want me wasting my life taking care of her."
Damien studied her for several seconds.
"She sounds smart."
A surprised laugh escaped her.
"That's your response?"
"Yes."
Scarlett smiled despite herself.
"You didn't even know her."
"No," Damien agreed. "But she clearly loved you."
The simplicity of the statement hit harder than she expected.
For a moment, she couldn't speak.
Because he was right.
Her mother had loved her fiercely.
Enough to let her go.
Enough to force her to move forward.
Scarlett looked down at her hands.
When she finally looked back up, Damien was still watching her.
Not with pity.
Never pity.
Something else.
Something warmer.
The realization made her nervous.
The following Friday, everything changed.
Scarlett arrived at work to discover her landlord waiting outside her apartment.
The conversation lasted less than five minutes.
By the end of it, her anxiety had doubled.
The rent was increasing.
Again.
By the time she reached the café, she felt sick.
There was no way she could afford it.
Not on her current salary.
Not with her student loans.
Not with everything else hanging over her head.
She spent most of the morning distracted.
Damien noticed immediately.
Of course he did.
Nothing seemed to escape him.
By noon, he finally set down his coffee.
"What's wrong?"
Scarlett forced a smile.
"Nothing."
He didn't believe her.
The look on his face made that obvious.
"Scarlett."
The sound of her name in his deep voice sent an unwanted shiver through her.
"It's really none of your business."
His gaze remained steady.
"Probably not."
"Then stop asking."
To her surprise, he actually smiled.
He's not offended.
Not annoyed.
Amused.
As though her attitude entertained him.
A normal person would have walked away.
Damien Blackwood wasn't normal.
Several hours later, just before closing time, he approached the counter once again.
This time, there was something different about him.
A certain determination in his expression.
The sight immediately made Scarlett suspicious.
"What?"
Damien reached into his jacket and placed a folder on the counter.
Scarlett stared at it.
Then at him.
Then, back at the folder.
"What is this?"
"A job offer."
Her heart skipped.
"What?"
"I'm looking for a new assistant."
Scarlett blinked.
Surely she had heard him wrong.
"You want me to work for you?"
"Yes."
The answer came so quickly it was obvious he'd thought about this.
A lot.
She stared at him in disbelief.
The idea was ridiculous.
Completely ridiculous.
"I have no experience."
"You have plenty."
"I've worked in a coffee shop for a year."
"You have a degree."
"A useless one."
"No degree is useless."
The certainty in his voice irritated her.
Mostly because part of her wanted to believe him.
Damien pushed the folder slightly closer.
"Take it home."
"No."
His eyebrows lifted.
"No?"
"No."
For the first time since meeting him, genuine surprise crossed his face.
Scarlett almost laughed.
Apparently, people didn't tell Damien Blackwood no very often.
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"You haven't even looked at the offer."
"I don't need to."
Damien's eyes narrowed slightly.
Not in anger.
Interest.
Pure interest.
As though her refusal fascinated him.
"Why?"
Scarlett hesitated.
Because the truth sounded ridiculous.
Because she was afraid.
Afraid of him.
Afraid of what working for him would mean.
Afraid of how easily she had grown accustomed to seeing him every day.
Afraid of wanting things she couldn't have.
"You make me nervous," she admitted.
For a moment, silence stretched between them.
Then Damien smiled.
A slow, genuine smile that transformed his entire face.
The sight stole her breath.
"Good," he said quietly.
Scarlett frowned.
"Good?"
"At least you're honest."
Before she could respond, he straightened and picked up his coat.
"Take the folder."
"I'm not going to change my mind."
His blue-grey eyes held hers.
The intensity in them made her pulse race.
"We'll see."
Then he turned and walked away.
Scarlett stared after him long after he disappeared through the door.
Something told her this wasn't over.
Something told her Damien Blackwood had already made up his mind.
And if there was one thing she had learned about him during the past week, it was that he wasn't a man who gave up easily.
The following morning, Scarlett arrived at work determined to put Damien Blackwood out of her mind. It was a foolish goal, one she abandoned almost immediately when she spotted the folder sitting inside her bag. At some point during the previous evening, she had taken it home after all. She couldn't even remember doing it. One moment, she had been arguing with him, and the next, she had found herself carrying a potential job offer from one of the most powerful men in the world.
She hated how curious she was.
During a quiet moment between customers, she finally opened the folder. Her eyes widened almost instantly.
The salary alone was enough to make her stop breathing.
She reread the figure three times, convinced she had misunderstood it. There was no way personal assistants earned that kind of money. Not legally, anyway. The benefits were even more shocking. Health insurance. Housing allowance. Travel opportunities. Performance bonuses. The entire package looked more like something offered to a senior executive than an assistant.
Scarlett quickly closed the folder and shoved it back into her bag.
Absolutely not.
No amount of money was worth stepping into Damien Blackwood's world.
At least, that was what she told herself.
The problem was that her bank account disagreed.
By lunchtime, she had already calculated how quickly the salary would erase her student loans. By two o'clock, she had figured out how much she could save every month. By four o'clock, she was mentally apartment hunting in neighbourhoods where she wouldn't have to listen to sirens all night.
The offer was dangerous.
Not because of the money.
Because of the man offering it.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the bell above the café door chimed.
Scarlett looked up.
Her heart immediately betrayed her.
Damien had arrived.
He wasn't alone this time.
Two men in expensive suits followed behind him, both carrying tablets and speaking urgently. They looked like men accustomed to being important. Yet neither of them spoke once Damien entered the café. Their attention remained fixed on him, waiting for instructions.
The sight reminded Scarlett of something she sometimes forgot.
Damien wasn't just another customer.
He wasn't simply the man who drank black coffee and asked questions about her hometown.
He was a billionaire.
A man whose decisions affected companies, employees, and fortunes.
A man who belonged in a completely different world from hers.
Yet the moment his eyes found her across the room, the rest of the café seemed to disappear.
And somehow, that frightened her more than the job offer ever could.
- Writer
