Back to reality
1329 Words
The flight back to Chicago was silent.
Damian worked through the entire trip, laptop open, earbuds in, like Britney wasn’t sitting three feet away. She stared at the marketing reports he’d sent her at 2 AM, but the words kept blurring.
“To us.”
That line from the party wouldn’t leave her head. It hadn’t been in the script. It hadn’t been part of the deal.
She hated that it sounded real when he said it.
The SUV dropped them at Hale Tower at 8 AM. No time to unpack, no time to breathe.
“Back to work,” Damian said as they stepped into the elevator. “You’re presenting the Q3 campaign to the board at 10.”
Britney blinked. “Me? I’m a junior associate.”
“Not anymore,” he said. “You’re my special assignment. That means you do what I say, when I say it.”
The elevator doors opened on the 40th floor. The receptionist barely glanced up. News traveled fast in Hale Industries.
Britney’s old desk on the 12th floor was gone. In its place was a small office two doors down from Damian’s, with her name on a brass plate.
_Britney Cole – Special Projects._
She ran a hand over it. Three months of being invisible, erased in one signature.
Damian stopped in her doorway. “You have two hours. Don’t embarrass me.”
He left before she could respond.
---
The boardroom was intimidating even empty. Twenty chairs, one long table, a screen that cost more than her car.
At 9:58 AM, the board filed in. Men and women in their 50s and 60s, all of whom had voted to keep Damian as CEO last year by a margin of 2%.
Marcus Vance was there. He didn’t look at Britney.
Damian entered at exactly 10:00, suit perfect, expression closed off. He took the head of the table.
“Ms. Cole will present,” he said. No introduction. No explanation.
Britney stood. Her hands shook once, then steadied.
“Good morning,” she said. “This campaign focuses on repositioning Hale Industries as a leader in sustainable tech acquisition. We’re not just buying companies. We’re rebuilding them.”
For 18 minutes, she talked. She used data, visuals, a tone that was confident without being arrogant. She didn’t look at Damian once.
When she finished, the room was quiet.
Marcus Vance leaned forward. “And you’re the one running this, Ms. Cole?”
“For the duration of the project, yes,” Britney said.
“And your relationship with Mr. Hale?”
Damian spoke before she could. “Personal matters are irrelevant to the board.”
Vance smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course. But perception matters, Damian. Especially after Saturday.”
Britney felt the room tilt.
Damian didn’t flinch. “Then let the results speak for themselves. Motion to approve the Q3 budget?”
It passed. 18-2.
As the board filed out, Vance stopped in front of Britney.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he said quietly. “Damian doesn’t keep toys.”
Britney met his gaze. “I’m not a toy, Mr. Vance.”
He studied her for a long moment, then nodded. “We’ll see.”
---
Damian called her into his office an hour later.
“You did well,” he said. No praise beyond that.
Britney sat without being asked. The rules were bending.
“Why did you let me present?” she asked.
“Because you’re good,” Damian said. “And because I needed the board to see you’re not just window dressing.”
“And if I’d failed?”
“You wouldn’t have.”
He leaned back, studying her. “Vance is suspicious. Elise will be worse. We need to keep up the act for at least another month.”
Britney’s stomach tightened. “Another month of ‘to us’?”
Damian’s jaw tightened. “That was a mistake.”
“Was it?” Britney said before she could stop herself.
His eyes darkened. “Don’t push, Britney.”
“Or what? You’ll fire me? Cancel Mom’s treatment?”
The room went cold.
Damian stood. He moved around the desk, stopping a foot from her chair.
“I don’t threaten people I’m sleeping with, Britney,” he said quietly. “I protect them.”
Britney’s breath hitched. “We’re not sleeping together.”
“Not yet,” Damian said.
She stood up fast, chair scraping. “That’s not part of the contract.”
“No,” he said. “But it’s part of reality. You feel it too.”
She hated that he was right. Hated that her body reacted to him being this close, to the way his voice dropped when he said her name.
“I’m not going to ruin my life over a fake engagement,” she said.
“Good,” Damian said. “Because I’m not asking you to.”
He stepped back, giving her space.
“Go home, Britney. Get some rest. We have a meeting with the Vance legal team tomorrow.”
She left without another word.
---
Her apartment felt smaller than ever.
Mia was waiting on the couch, two glasses of wine on the coffee table.
“How’d it go?” Mia asked.
“We got the budget approved,” Britney said, dropping her bag. “And Damian told me he wants to keep the act going for another month.”
Mia poured the wine. “And?”
“And he said ‘to us’ in front of 200 people,” Britney admitted.
Mia’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”
“It means nothing,” Britney said, taking the glass. “It’s strategy.”
Mia sipped her wine. “Sure. And I’m dating Chris Hemsworth.”
Britney didn’t laugh.
“He said I’m worth keeping,” she said quietly.
Mia set her glass down.
“Brit. Look at me. You’re in deep. If you start believing this is real, you’ll get hurt. Guys like Damian Hale don’t do real. They do control.”
“I know,” Britney said.
But she didn’t feel like she knew anymore.
---
The next morning, she was back in Hale Tower at 7 AM.
Damian’s door was open. He was on a call, tie loosened, jacket off. He looked up when she entered, and for a second, something softened in his face.
“Meeting’s in 20 minutes,” he said. “Sit.”
Britney sat.
He ended the call and closed the laptop.
“You slept?” he asked.
“Not really,” she said.
“Neither did I.”
The honesty threw her.
Damian stood and walked to the window. “Vance is going to try to break the engagement. He’ll use anything. If he finds out this is fake, we lose the board vote.”
“So what do we do?” Britney asked.
“We make it real enough that no one questions it,” Damian said. “For the next month, we’re seen together. Dinner. Events. Photos. No mistakes.”
“And after a month?”
Damian turned to face her.
“After a month, we reassess,” he said. “And Britney… if you want out, you can walk. No penalties. I’ll make sure your mom’s care is covered.”
Britney stared at him.
That wasn’t in the contract. That wasn’t leverage.
“Why?” she asked.
“Because I don’t want you here if you don’t want to be,” Damian said. “Even if it costs me the board.”
The room felt too quiet.
Britney stood up.
“Fine,” she said. “One month. But no more ‘to us’ lines unless we mean it.”
Damian nodded.
“Deal,” he said.
He held out his hand.
Britney took it.
His grip was warm, firm. Professional.
But when he let go, his thumb brushed her palm once.
And neither of them pretended not to notice.
---
- Writer
