Chapter Two
1460 Words
After Midnight
The elevator doors opened.
I stepped out first.
I could hear Damian behind me, but I didn't turn around.
I walked toward the hotel lobby, hoping he would go in the opposite direction.
He didn't.
“Amelia.”
I stopped.
“What?”
He caught up with me.
“You left your phone.”
I looked down at my hand.
My phone wasn't there.
“Where did you find it?”
“On the chair outside your father's office.”
He held it out.
I took it.
“Thanks.”
“You're welcome.”
I slipped it into my purse.
That should have been the end of it.
I started walking again.
“That's it?”
I turned around.
“What else do you want?”
“You're welcome?”
“I said thank you.”
“You said it like you were paying a bill.”
I stared at him.
“You're very difficult.”
“So I've been told.”
“I believe it.”
He smiled.
I shook my head and continued toward the entrance.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“I'll drive you.”
“No.”
“You've been drinking.”
“Two glasses.”
“Still.”
“I can drive.”
“I didn't say you couldn't.”
“Then why are you offering?”
“Because it's late.”
“I'll order a car.”
He nodded.
“Fine.”
I pulled my phone out again.
My ride app opened, but before I could request a car, the screen went black.
“Great.”
“What?”
“Battery.”
I held it up.
One percent.
Damian glanced at the phone.
“Give me a minute.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call.
“Bring my car around.”
I looked at him.
“I said I'm ordering a car.”
“And your phone is dead.”
“I can get one from the front desk.”
“You can.”
“Then I will.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
I turned toward the reception desk.
“Amelia.”
I stopped.
“What now?”
He looked at me for a moment.
“Why are you so determined to make everything difficult?”
I laughed.
“I'm not.”
“You are.”
“You've known me for less than an hour.”
“And you've argued with me for most of it.”
“Because you keep saying things I don't like.”
“That's not my fault.”
“It definitely is.”
He laughed.
I couldn't help smiling.
Then I caught myself.
I looked away.
A few minutes later, I stood outside the hotel with my arms folded.
The rain had started again.
Damian walked up beside me.
“Your car?”
“Twenty minutes.”
He looked toward the street.
“It's raining.”
“I noticed.”
“You can wait inside.”
“I'll be fine.”
He took off his jacket.
“Here.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“It's a jacket, Amelia.”
“I know what it is.”
“Then take it.”
“I don't need it.”
He held it out.
“You're cold.”
“I'm not.”
He looked at my arms.
“You're rubbing them.”
I stopped.
“That's not proof.”
“It is.”
I sighed and took the jacket.
“Thank you.”
“Better.”
I put it around my shoulders.
It was warm.
And it smelled like him.
I immediately regretted accepting it.
“You can stop looking at me like that,” he said.
“Like what?”
“Like you're wondering whether I'm secretly terrible.”
“I already know you're terrible.”
He laughed.
“You don't know me.”
“Neither do you.”
“That's true.”
For a moment, we just stood there.
Cars passed on the wet street.
The hotel lights reflected on the pavement.
“Why do you hate my family?” he asked.
I looked at him.
“I don't hate your family.”
“You looked like you wanted to throw me out of your father's office.”
“I wanted to throw you out.”
“That's different.”
“Exactly.”
He smiled.
“So why?”
I hesitated.
“My father doesn't like your family.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“It's the only one I have.”
“Then ask him.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“He told me to stay out of it.”
Damian looked away.
“My father says the same thing.”
I looked at him.
“Really?”
“About your family.”
“Then maybe our fathers are both stubborn.”
“They are.”
“Maybe we should leave them to it.”
“Maybe.”
I smiled.
“See? We agree on something.”
“Don't get used to it.”
I laughed.
A car pulled up.
I checked the license plate.
“That's mine.”
Damian stepped aside.
I took off his jacket and handed it back.
“Thanks.”
He didn't take it immediately.
“Keep it.”
“I'll return it.”
“When?”
I shrugged.
“Tomorrow.”
He finally took the jacket.
“Fine.”
I opened the car door.
“Goodnight.”
“Amelia.”
I looked back.
“Don't sign anything tonight.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Whatever your father puts in front of you. Don't sign it.”
“Why?”
“Because you're angry, you're tired, and you're not thinking clearly.”
I crossed my arms.
“I can think for myself.”
“I know.”
“Then don't tell me what to do.”
“I'm not.”
“It sounded like you were.”
He smiled.
“Goodnight, Amelia.”
I got into the car.
“Goodnight.”
The door closed.
As the car pulled away, I looked through the window.
Damian was still standing outside the hotel.
Watching me leave.
“You're late.”
I looked at Sarah as I walked into the apartment.
She was sitting on the sofa with a blanket around her.
“I know.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
She stared at me.
“You're wearing men's cologne.”
I froze.
“What?”
She stood.
“Don't move.”
“Sarah—”
She walked closer and sniffed the air.
“That's definitely men's cologne.”
I took off my coat.
“It isn't mine.”
Her eyes widened.
“Whose is it?”
“Damian Blackwood.”
She stared at me.
“What?”
“It's not what you think.”
“I haven't said what I think.”
“You're thinking something.”
“I am thinking many things.”
“Nothing happened.”
“Then why are you wearing his jacket?”
I looked down.
I had forgotten I was still wearing it.
“I forgot.”
Sarah's mouth fell open.
“You forgot?”
“Yes.”
She took the jacket from me.
“Did he give this to you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it was raining.”
“Amelia.”
“What?”
“You were with Damian Blackwood alone?”
“At the hotel.”
“Doing what?”
“Talking.”
She stared at me.
“That's it?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you look nervous?”
“I don't.”
“You do.”
I walked toward the kitchen.
“I'm tired.”
Sarah followed me.
“Did he kiss you?”
I stopped.
“No.”
“Did you kiss him?”
“No.”
“Did you want to?”
I turned around.
“Goodnight, Sarah.”
She smiled.
“That means yes.”
“It means I'm tired.”
“You're blushing.”
“I am not.”
She laughed.
I went into my room and closed the door.
I leaned against it.
My phone buzzed.
I pulled it out.
One new message.
Unknown Number: You left something in my car.
I frowned.
I typed back.
Amelia: What?
The reply came almost immediately.
Unknown Number: Your earring.
I touched my ear.
One was missing.
My stomach tightened.
Amelia: Keep it. I'll get it tomorrow.
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Finally, his reply came.
Unknown Number: I think you should come get it yourself.
I stared at the message.
I knew I should ignore it.
Instead, I smiled.
And that was the first decision I would regret.
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