Chapter 4
Brielle
I’m getting the hang of CreativEdge’s applications and processes, and the challenges of learning the way it is done here makes the job a little more interesting.
Not as interesting as the research I did the other night for Satan, as I’ve gotten in the habit of calling him this week, but at least it’s keeping me engaged.
I haven’t talked to him since Tuesday, when I handed him the research material and left without so much as a thank-you.
But he stalks around the office, never stomping but somehow making his presence felt in every space he’s in.
He must be allergic to smiling or politeness since I’ve yet to witness a single act of either of these during my entire first week on the job.
A shadow crosses over my screen. I look up and jump clean out of my skin.
Satan… Damian… is standing in front of me, saying something, the scowl on his face creasing his otherwise flawless forehead. I pull the earbuds out of my ears, my music still audible in my hand.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I ask.
“What are you still doing here? It’s late.”
It is after regular office hours, but I’m killing time before I head home, and I thought spending it at work would be the most productive.
Holly’s boyfriend, Jordan, came into town this afternoon to spend the weekend with her.
They met online six months ago, and despite the fact that they live on opposite sides of the country, they’ve managed to make a long-distance relationship work.
But their time together is often infrequent and too short, meaning that they really make the most of those moments together.
I’ve found it’s best for everyone when I stay out of the way as much as possible, even though Holly insists I’m welcome to spend time with them.
Third-wheeling an adorably smitten couple is as nauseating as it sounds.
“Just getting some things buttoned up before the weekend,” I say. “I’m not used to your systems yet, so I’m not as quick as I’d like to be. But don’t worry, I’m a fast learner.” I smile.
“It’s almost 7:00 p.m. on a Friday night. Isn’t your boyfriend wondering where you are?”
“I would need to have a boyfriend for him to wonder about my whereabouts,” I mumble. Clearly not quietly enough as his gaze rakes over me quickly. Almost so quickly that I miss it.
“Honestly, my roommate’s boyfriend is in town, so I’m trying to stay out of the apartment.”
“Not a fan of him?” He quirks one brow, the slight twitch of his lips making it look like he almost wants to smirk.
“It’s not that. I like him. But, like I said, he just got into town… and it’s Valentine’s weekend… so, yeah. I’m giving them some space.”
He seems to contemplate what I said, and I wonder if maybe I said too much.
After a moment’s hesitation, he says, “So, you’ll need to get out of the house tomorrow night, too, then.”
He doesn’t say it like a question, instead stating it like it’s a known fact.
“Um, yeah. I guess so.”
“Good. Then you’ll come to dinner with me.”
My face scrunches up in confusion. “I’m sorry. What?” I ask quickly, my brain trying to make any sense out of what he just said. I must have misheard him, right?
“Dinner, tomorrow night. I’ll need you there.”
That clarifies literally nothing.
“Is my job dependent on that, because that isn’t what I signed up for.
I’m not okay with exchanging sexual favors for job security.
” I bound out of my chair. First, someone gets fired on my very first day on the job, he reams out the team of people across from me, then I find out that everyone calls the boss Satan, and now he’s demanding that I go to dinner with him with who-knows-what expectations.
Absolutely not. And certainly not for an accounting job. Not that I would consider it for any job… but really not for mind-numbing number-crunching.
“No. Jesus. Sit down.” He looks at me in horror, his scowl deeper than I’d seen it yet. “Your job is not dependent on it, but…” He takes a moment, like he’s carefully choosing his words. “It would help me out a lot.”
My eyes widen at his admission. A part of me wants to laugh at how difficult that was for him to admit, but another part of me, the larger part of me, is still skeptical.
“Help you out how?” I ask.
He runs a hand across his jaw, scratching at the stubble coating his cheeks. A sense of… is that embarrassment?… lines his face.
“I have a meeting with a client. This client is under the impression that I have a missus in my life…”
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it. The undercurrent of silence makes the room feel small as I process this new information and what it might mean.
“Under the impression how?”
“That’s not important,” he states quickly.
I can feel him taking back control of the conversation.
An authoritative presence exudes from him as he straightens his back and lifts his chin.
“But he wants to meet me and my lady tomorrow night for dinner to finalize the contract. So, you, Brielle, get to be that lady.”
His gaze doesn’t leave my eyes, and I find myself sucked into them, just like I was in his office the other day.
“And if I don’t want to?”
“Like I said, your job is secure,” he confirms. And I believe him. “But it’s a free meal at a nice restaurant, a reason to dress up, and it gets you out of the house to give your roommate some much-needed alone time. What’s there to say no to?”
He makes a good point.
Still, I don’t want to get myself in the same situation I was in at my last job.
The last thing I need is someone thinking I went on an actual date with the boss.
My boss’s boss. The big boss. It isn’t a date, but truth doesn’t matter as much as appearances do, as I am well aware.
It wasn’t true last time either, not that anyone let that minor detail stop the gossip from spreading.
Then again… I could use this as an opportunity to leverage for something. Evelyn has been pestering me all week to at least ask for the day off for our Gran and Gramps’s anniversary party.
“What’s in it for me?” I ask.
“I just listed what was in it for you. Were you looking for more?” His dark eyes narrow as he eyes me with suspicion.
“Well, I think if I have to work on a Saturday—which is essentially what this dinner is, a work function—” I clarify, wanting to make no mistake that this is strictly work-related, “then I should get an extra day off.” I say with more courage than I actually possess.
“A day of my choosing, even if that day is within the probationary period,” I add quickly.
That single brow raise makes another appearance as he scans me. “You want one vacation day?”
“Yes, a very specific day. Four weeks from today.”
“Done,” he says without hesitation. A feeling that I could have asked for more rolls over me, but I didn’t want more. I just wanted that, and I got it.
Damian nods once and then turns to leave.
“Wait,” I stop him, not unlike the other day when I was the one trying to leave. “Tomorrow night, do we have to act like we’re together and everything?”
“Yes, Brielle.” His lip tips up, and there is no question that he is full-on smirking now. It’s a good look on him, and a thought passes through my head, wondering what a real smile would look like. “Tomorrow night, I’ll be the light of your life, and you’ll be the apple of my eye. My Valentine.”
Satan’s Valentine. Fan-freaking-tastic.
I trudge my way home, cursing the icy wind. Luckily, the walk takes me through an alley that blocks the wind on either side, creating a small reprieve from the weather—so long as I don’t run into any shifty characters.
The apartment that I share with Holly has notoriously thin walls, so when I get back to the building, I stop at the door and listen.
I can hear the television, but nothing else.
I open the door, making as much noise as possible.
Not to interrupt anything, but because I would feel like a massive creep if I just quietly snuck in without them knowing.
As it turns out, I had nothing to worry about.
Jordan turns to look at me from the couch where he and Holly are cuddled up.
“Hey, you’re home late,” Holly says, poking her head up, a pink silk bonnet tied around her braids.
“Yeah, I stayed late at work.”
“Were you just trying to stay away from home?” Her glare tells me that she already knows the answer to that. “I told you, you don’t have to do that. We’re not going to throw you out of the apartment in the middle of winter just so we can bone.”
A loud laugh burst out of me.
“Who says bone anymore?” I say through my laughter.
“Who says we won’t throw her out so we can do it?” Jordan adds with a cheeky smile at her.
“Shut up.” Holly pushes at Jordan playfully, giggling all the while.
She and I have been friends since college, and I have never seen her so giddy over a man before. It’s actually kind of adorable.
“Well, I appreciate you considering me. At least tomorrow night, you’ll have the place to yourself for a bit.” I stop in the galley kitchen and grab a drink. “Anyone want something to drink?” I shout back at them.
They both assure me they’re all set. When I head back into the small living room, I find Holly staring at me expectantly.
“What?”
“Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day,” she says.
“I know. Do you guys have any dinner plans or anything?” I throw myself into the accent chair, draping my legs over the side.
Our living room is barely big enough to fit a love seat, chair, and TV stand, but we make it work.
Especially when it’s just the two of us.
Three people in this room feels almost crowded.
“No, we were going to stay in. Didn’t want to fight the crowds of people when all I really want is to spend time with Hols,” Jordan says, looking at her with hearts in his eyes.
Holly, on the other hand… “Yeah, that’s great, babe. What do you mean we’ll have the place to ourselves? Where are you going to be?”
“Oh, I have a dinner thing,” I say, quickly adding, “for work.”
I twist the top off my bottled iced tea and take a swig.
“On a Saturday night? On Valentine’s Day?” she asked skeptically. “You’re an accountant, Bri. What work thing is happening tomorrow night?”
“It’s nothing. Just something the boss asked us all to go to.”
I hate lying to Holly, but I know her. If she finds out that my boss… my boss’s boss… is asking me to pretend to be his girlfriend for the night so he can score points with a client, she’s going to flip.
Probably rightfully so, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear it. Or the lecture that would follow about keeping my distance from men in the office. All men. She remembers what happened the last time I got too close to someone I worked with.
But this is different. No one is going to find out. It’s a one-dinner commitment where I’ll smile and engage in small talk and then get my extra vacation day. No harm, no foul.
Holly scans my face, looking for the deception that she can tell is there, but in the end, she purses her lips and lays her head on Jordan’s chest as we go back to watching the movie they had playing.
They watch the movie, anyway. My mind is busy shuffling through my wardrobe, trying to figure out what I’m going to wear to a fancy Valentine’s dinner at an upscale restaurant with my rich, brooding boyfriend.