Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Willa
As I was putting some boxes together, my phone pinged with a text message from Damien.
“It’s from Damien.” I looked at Matt.
“It’s probably an apology text.”
I opened the message and read it. “Shit. What time is the vendor show on Saturday?”
“It’s from ten a.m. to four p.m.,” Matt said. “Why?”
“I have to attend a gala with Damien. He’s picking me up at six o’clock. Shit. That is not going to give me enough time to get ready. What am I going to do?”
“Don’t you worry about that. We’ll figure it out. You know I got you, boo.” He hooked his arm around me.
I spent the rest of the week thinking about and making different boxes for Saturday. I never replied to Damien’s text because—well, I didn’t feel like it. The less contact I had with him, the better off I’d be. The problem was having to attend that gala with him on Saturday night and pretending to be happy.
My phone rang, startling me from my thoughts. Glancing at my phone, I saw it was Damien. Whatever he had to say, he could do it over voicemail. A few moments later, a voice message appeared on my phone. Pressing the button, I listened to it, my stomach clenching at the sound of his voice.
“I don’t appreciate the fact that you didn’t respond to my text message. I’ve waited all week to hear from you and heard nothing. We have a deal, Willa. You better be ready at six o’clock on Saturday night when I come to pick you up, or we’ll have a big problem.”
What he didn’t realize was that he was the big problem. I quickly typed him a message.
I’m very busy with work. I’ll be ready at six o’clock.
Too busy to respond to me?
Yes. You should know that running your own company takes ninety-nine percent of your time.
I’ll see you on Saturday.
“Yeah, asshole. See you on Saturday,” I spoke out loud.
It was Saturday morning. Matt, James, and I were up early and loaded the boxes into a rental truck Matt had reserved. We unloaded the boxes and set up everything at the mall.
“What if people hate what I have to offer?”
“Why do you say that? Your boxes have been a hit so far.”
Three younger women walked over to the table and looked at the boxes.
“What are these?” one of the women asked.
“They’re breakup boxes.” I smiled. “My motto is pack it up and move on.”
“Oh my God, I love this!” one of the other girls exclaimed.
“We have four different boxes. Thanks for the Trauma . The Ghosted Box . I Thought He Was the One Survival Kit . And this one is the Actually, I’m Fine box.”
Before I knew it, people gathered around my space, buying up all the boxes I had and placing orders for more. Glancing at my watch, it was three-thirty.
“I have to go and get ready for the gala. Can you two stay and collect orders if anyone wants to place one over the next half an hour?”
“Of course, we can.” Matt grinned. “Today has been a monumental win, and I’m so proud of you.” He hugged me. “Now, go get dolled up for your husband. We got this.”
* * *
Damien
I stood before the full-length mirror and ensured my bowtie was straight. After putting on my cufflinks, I dabbed on some cologne and placed my phone and wallet in my pocket.
Louis kept his eyes on the road, occasionally glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
“You alright back there, Damien?”
“Fine,” I lied. My head was swimming with too many thoughts and possibilities of what might happen when we reach Willa’s apartment. She was mad at me. I knew it for certain when she didn’t respond to my text message. I shouldn’t have yelled at her the way I did, but I couldn’t help it. I confided in her, opened up in a way I’d never done before, and she mocked me for it.
I pushed the buzzer outside her building. After a few moments, the door buzzed open, and I walked up to her apartment, lightly knocking on the door.
“Good evening, Mr. Blackwood,” Matt said.
“Hello, Matt. James.” I nodded.
“I’ll go get Willa,” Matt said.
As she stepped into the room, I found myself momentarily breathless. She was breathtaking in her long, black, fitted dress that accentuated her figure perfectly. Her hair was styled in a sophisticated updo, with a few curly strands cascading, making her look like a goddess.
“You look absolutely beautiful.” I smiled.
She shot me a look, grabbed her clutch from the table, and walked out the door. Sighing, I followed her. I could already tell this would be a fun evening.
I glanced at her as she stared out the window, playing with her wedding ring.
“Are you getting used to that?” I asked, pointing to her ring.
“No, and I can’t wait to take it off and never wear it again,” she snapped.
“Listen, Willa?—”
“Nope.” She covered her ears. “I’ve already listened to what you had to say, and I didn’t like it. You’re a rude, crude, mean, heartless man, Damien Blackwood.”
“I never said I wasn’t. Can you at least promise to pretend not to hate me tonight?”
“I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” Her eyes narrowed.
“This is important, Willa.” I gritted my teeth. “Vale signed the merger agreement, and it’ll take at least another eight weeks before it’s finalized. He still has time to back out if he sees tension between us.”
“You really don’t care that you hurt my feelings, do you?” she asked, cocking her head.
I rested my elbow on the armrest, brought my finger to my chin, and stared out the window.
“I understand you were trying to help,” my voice strained. “But there are boundaries, Willa.”
“Boundaries?” She laughed. “You barely acknowledge you have feelings, much less talk about them.”
“That’s my choice to make,” I snapped, and she flinched. “Look,” my voice softened, “I appreciate the intent behind your gift, but sending it to my office so my entire staff could see it with that ridiculous label sent me over the edge.”
“The label wasn’t ridiculous. Okay. I admit that I probably shouldn’t have sent it to your office, and for that, I apologize.”
“Apology accepted.” My lips formed a small smile.
“Your turn.”
I sighed, staring into her beautiful eyes. “I apologize for yelling at you. There, are you happy?”
“Nope.” She turned her head. “You don’t mean it.”