26. Misty
I twist my hair,doing my best to capture the stray strands in my pale pink claw clip. Damon’s oversized gray sweatshirt engulfs me, leaving only the bottom four inches of my dress exposed around my thighs. It’s hard to picture him wearing something so casual, even though the thick, structured fabric screams expensive.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door. I can’t avoid what happened last night forever. I’m sure he has a million freaking questions that I don’t want to answer, but I owe him some kind of explanation. Something tells me he’ll see right through me if I try to lie.
His back is to me when I come out of my room, giving me a few extra seconds to take him in. Damon’s dressed in an expertly tailored black suit, the long sleeves concealing the evidence of his vibrant tattoos beneath. He’s pinned his phone between his shoulder and speaking to someone low enough I can’t quite make out what he’s saying.
“The man is practically a work of art at this point,” I grumble under my breath.
He spins and spots me, and I can feel the heat rush to my cheeks. There’s no way he heard that.
“I’ll call you back,” Damon says into his phone before disconnecting so fast I doubt the person on the other end had time to respond.
“How are you?” he asks me, voice low and soft like he’s afraid I’ll startle if he pushes too much.
I hate it. I hate that he’s already looking at me like I’m breakable.
“Fine. Shouldn’t you be gone?” I bite out a little too harshly and instantly regret it.
His head cocks to the side as his eyes roam over me, assessing.
The worry in his expression vanishes, and he gives me a cocky smile. “Now, now, wife. Don’t tell me you want to get rid of me?”
He’s standing there wolfishly, daring me to respond.
“Not for another…” I pretend to look at a watch on my wrist. “Roughly another three hundred and sixty days, give or take.”
There’s a pang in my chest at the reminder this all has an end date. When did I grow so attached?
A muscle in his jaw ticks, and I don’t think he’ll respond until he says,“You are surprisingly unfunny, dear wife.”
I huff out a laugh, happy the moment’s broken, but he cuts in before I can respond.
“I wanted to see you before I head to work since you’ll be starting at the Everette Tower today.”
He’s oblivious to my confusion as he explains my new office location while simultaneously making a latte. It’s only when he turns to hand me the drink that he spots my expression.
“What?”
I robotically take the coffee. “But I already have an office.”
“Yes,” he responds slowly as if looking for the catch. “But you’ll need to be there since that’s where I’ll be.”
“Can’t I just email you?”
“You are my personal PR person. I’m planning PR things. You’ll need to be close by.”
“You know that’s not true, right? I can just stay at the Bruins building.”
His brows pull low over his eyes. “Unless you want me to trade half the team, you’ll be coming with me today.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Exactly. So, we’re agreed. You’ll be coming to my office.”
“That’s not?—”
“I took the liberty of checking your schedule. I noticed you have a morning meeting with my mother. I’ve already messaged her to be on her best behavior. She has a tendency to be…less than pleasant with people she deems below her.”
My muscles unintentionally stiffen. I don’t miss this world at all. One where people think they’re better than the other. “I can take care of myself.”
“Of course you can. You’re an Everette now.”
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: How was your morning?
Damon’s message pops up on my computer screen. Less than great, considering I’d spent it with his mother, who landed several backhanded comments about my appearance while simultaneously exulting the pedigree of the young women she was setting up for her son. Like they were dogs and not people.
At least now, I’m doing pretty good. I have an extra-large coffee, and I’m currently scrolling Amazon instead of getting any work done.
Dealing with Mrs. Everette had to count for a week’s worth of work at least.
The temptation to yell that I’m her son’s wife, me, in all my messy, wild imperfection, had crawled under my skin and pushed at my throat, begging to come out. If only to see the shock, quickly followed by despair, register in her eyes.
It’s not lost on me that the girl my parents tried to groom me to be is the exact type of woman Damon’s mother is looking for:
Pastel
Polite
Pliable
Someone she can twist and mold to be Damon’s perfect society wife.
Well, she’ll have to wait a year because I’m none of those things.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: Fine. We found lots of potential wives for you. You could even start a harem.
I drum my fingers against my oak desk. The office they set me up in is across the hall from Damon’s. If it wasn’t for his privacy blinds, he’d be looking right into my cubicle all day.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: Speaking of wives. Your last name is wrong.
I roll my eyes at the ridiculousness of the comment.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: Oh, yeah sure. Because changing my last name wouldn’t raise suspicions at all. At best, people would think I’m some kind of stalker freak.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: If only I were that lucky.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: Tell me. Was she nice?
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: As nice as someone like that can be.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: I don’t like that answer.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: That’s nice. I didn’t like it either. I’ve set up a calendar with all of the events you’ll need to make appearances at.
I pause before writing the next part, not willing to say “date.”
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: And a list of potential women to accompany you.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: Cancel them.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: What? I just spent all morning scheduling all of these.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: That’s unfortunate since I won’t be going.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: You have to!
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: Do I?
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: I did not spend all morning with your mother just to have you bail. You’re the one that’s supposed to be finding a wife!
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: You’re the one who refuses to admit to everyone YOU are my wife.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: Temporary wife.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: You keep saying that.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: That’s because you seem to keep forgetting.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: Is that what I’m doing?
Ugh! This man is impossible.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: Fine. But you need to go to the Primrose.
My fingers shook when I saw the event in the list Mrs. Everette provided me. This is a level of exclusivity I never thought I’d get a window into. I’m not talking about movie stars and influencers. I’m talking about being born into it. But it’s the secrecy that really catches people’s attention.
Every year, my social media feed is filled with people’s conspiracy theories.
My favorite is that the attendees are actually a bunch of vampires who attend for their yearly blood-drinking celebration, and we never hear anything from the waitstaff because they’re all dead.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: The only gala I’ll be attending is the one for Prosthetics For Kids.
Warmth fills my chest, but I temper it. It may be my friend’s charity, but he’s not going because of me. He made the commitment to participate prior to our arrangement. Honestly, I was shocked when he volunteered himself and his brothers for the auction.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: Your mother is insisting I get you there.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: Since when has my mother been your boss?
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: Since you told me to work with her.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: There’s a simple solution.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: Please, do tell.
I twirl a sleek black pen between my fingers, hoping he can hear the sarcasm with which I wrote that.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: Go with me.
The pen stalls mid-twirl as shock registers through me, and I’m momentarily stunned. I don’t want to admit just how appealing that sounds. I’m not going to even bother denying how curious I’ve been to know what goes on in there.
Oh yeah, Misty…that’s the reason you want to go. It has nothing to do with the shivers that trickle down your spine at the idea of going with him.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: CEOs don’t go to galas with their employees.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: Are you asking to be fired?
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: Do you want to be murdered in your sleep?
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: Be careful, Wife. I like it when you’re all murdery.
I ignore the flush in my cheeks, thanking God we aren’t having this conversation face-to-face.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: You would like that.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: I will speak to my mother. Don’t bother planning anything else. I won’t be attending.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: But you need to appear to be looking for a wife.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: I found one. And everyone who needs to know, knows.
I swallow hard.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: You’re really not going to go?
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: You seem to be under the impression I’m willing to give you up.
Misty Hart - Junior PR representative: Ok, well I guess that means you don’t need me here since I don’t have any work.
Damon Everette - CEO of Everette Industries: I’ll get back to you with the details.