Chapter Three
1454 Words
The Line We Crossed
I stared at the message on my phone.
I think you should come get it yourself.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
“Absolutely not.”
I tossed the phone onto my bed.
Two seconds later, I picked it up again.
I typed:
Amelia: I'll get it tomorrow.
His reply came almost immediately.
Damian: Tomorrow isn't guaranteed.
I frowned.
Amelia: What does that even mean?
The typing indicator appeared.
Then disappeared.
Nothing.
“Unbelievable.”
I threw the phone onto the bed again.
It buzzed.
Damian: I'm still at the hotel.
I stared at the screen.
Of course he was.
I typed back before I could change my mind.
Amelia: I'll come down. Five minutes.
The hotel lobby was nearly empty when I stepped out of the elevator.
Damian was sitting on one of the sofas, his jacket beside him.
He looked up.
“You came.”
“You said you had my earring.”
He reached into his pocket.
“I do.”
“Then give it to me.”
He held it up between two fingers.
I walked over.
“Thank you.”
I reached for it.
He moved his hand away.
I stared at him.
“Seriously?”
“You're welcome.”
“I said thank you.”
“You did.”
“So give it to me.”
He smiled.
“You're impatient.”
“And you're annoying.”
“That's becoming a pattern.”
“Damian.”
He laughed and finally handed it to me.
I took it and immediately put it in my purse.
“Happy?”
“Very.”
“Good.”
I turned to leave.
“Wait.”
I looked back.
“What?”
He picked up his jacket.
“Coffee.”
“No.”
“You haven't eaten.”
I frowned.
“How would you know?”
“You had two glasses of wine and half a plate of food.”
“You were watching me?”
“Unfortunately.”
I crossed my arms.
“You're very observant.”
“I told you that.”
“And very arrogant.”
“That too.”
I should have left.
Instead, I sat down.
“One coffee.”
He smiled.
“Deal.”
We sat across from each other in the hotel café.
A waiter placed two cups on the table.
I wrapped my hands around mine.
“So,” Damian said, “why did you really come back?”
“For my earring.”
“Only that?”
“Yes.”
“You could have waited until morning.”
“I wanted it back.”
He leaned back.
“You're lying.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You don't know me well enough to call me a liar.”
“I know you well enough to know when you're avoiding a question.”
I looked down at my coffee.
“You're one to talk.”
“Fair.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, “Your father didn't tell you everything.”
I looked up.
“About what?”
“The company.”
My expression hardened.
“I came here for coffee.”
“I know.”
“Then don't ruin it.”
He nodded.
“Fine.”
A few seconds passed.
“Your father is proud of you.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“He talks about you.”
“How do you know?”
“I've been in enough meetings with him.”
“What does he say?”
“That you're stubborn.”
I laughed.
“That sounds like him.”
“He also says you're the best person he's got.”
My smile disappeared.
I looked at my cup.
“He doesn't say things like that to me.”
“He should.”
“Why?”
“Because they're true.”
I looked at him.
There was nothing teasing in his expression.
That made me uncomfortable.
I reached for my cup.
My fingers brushed his.
Neither of us moved.
It was only a second.
Maybe less.
But I felt it.
So did he.
He slowly pulled his hand back.
“Sorry.”
I shook my head.
“It's fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
He looked at me.
I looked away first.
My phone rang.
Dad.
I answered.
“Hi.”
“Where are you?”
“At the hotel.”
“With Sarah?”
I hesitated.
“No.”
“Who are you with?”
I glanced at Damian.
“Someone.”
My father's voice changed.
“Amelia.”
“I'm fine.”
“Come home.”
“Why?”
“Because I need to talk to you.”
“About the company?”
“Yes.”
“Can it wait until morning?”
“No.”
I looked at the clock.
“I'm coming.”
I ended the call.
Damian stood.
“I'll drive you.”
“No.”
“Your father sounded worried.”
“He always sounds worried.”
“Amelia.”
I grabbed my bag.
“I said no.”
He followed me toward the exit.
“You don't have to make everything a fight.”
“You don't have to turn everything into an argument.”
“I'm offering you a ride.”
“And I'm refusing.”
He stopped.
“Fine.”
I kept walking.
Then I heard him behind me.
“Your earring.”
I turned.
He held it up.
I stared at him.
“You gave it to me.”
“You dropped it again.”
I walked back.
“Give it.”
He placed it in my palm.
Our fingers touched.
Again.
This time neither of us moved.
His eyes dropped to my lips.
My breath caught.
He looked back at my eyes.
“Amelia.”
I swallowed.
“What?”
He didn't answer.
I pulled my hand away.
“Goodnight.”
I walked out.
I didn't look back.
The next morning, I walked into my father's office with the earring secured safely in my purse.
He was already waiting.
“Sit.”
I remained standing.
“What happened?”
He pushed a document toward me.
“Read it.”
I looked down.
It was an agreement.
I scanned the first page.
Then the second.
My face tightened.
“Dad.”
“Keep reading.”
I reached the last page.
My name was there.
I looked up.
“Why is my name on this?”
My father didn't answer.
“Dad.”
He finally looked at me.
“Because Damian asked for you to be part of the deal.”
I stared at him.
“I told him no.”
“I know.”
“Then why is this here?”
“Because I haven't signed it.”
“Good.”
My father looked exhausted.
“But there's something you need to understand.”
“What?”
“If we reject Damian's offer, we may lose the company.”
I swallowed.
“And if we accept?”
“We keep it.”
“At what cost?”
He looked away.
I already knew.
“What did Damian ask for?”
My father pushed another page toward me.
I read it.
My stomach dropped.
“He wants me to work directly under him.”
“Yes.”
“For one year.”
“Yes.”
“And if I refuse?”
My father didn't answer.
“Dad.”
His eyes met mine.
“He withdraws the offer.”
I sat down slowly.
For a long moment, I stared at the contract.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
Damian: Your father told me you're considering the offer.
I stared at it.
Another message appeared.
Damian: Don't do it because you feel responsible for your family.
I frowned.
Then the third message came.
Damian: Do it only if you're ready to work with me.
I locked my phone.
My father watched me.
“Was that him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
I looked at the contract again.
“Nothing I want to repeat.”
My father sighed.
I picked up the pen.
Then stopped.
I looked at my father.
“If I agree, I want one condition.”
“What?”
“I deal with Damian directly.”
My father nodded.
“That's fine.”
I looked down at the contract.
Somewhere between the hotel, the missing earring, and this room, Damian Blackwood had gone from being a man I wanted nothing to do with...
to the man standing between my family and losing everything.
And I had a terrible feeling that working with him would be the easiest part of this deal.
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