Chapter 29
Ellie
Ihave always been an optimist. I think when you have a dazzling older sister and parents who want the picturesque family, you kind of have to look at the world through rose-colored glasses because if you don’t, you won’t fit in.
Even through everything, I have tried to remain hopeful.
I work hard, and I believe in myself even when no one else seems to.
But right now, I am feeling a little more glass half empty.
Every silver lining has a cloud inside it.
Today, I am wearing pants. I’m not in the mood to flounce around in one of Damien’s hand- picked costumes.
For one, he’s not going to be looking at me, so what’s the point?
But also, I want to make a statement. A statement that I will do what I want, and I will survive any storm that drops from the sky.
I skipped grabbing him coffee so I could avoid him altogether. My plan is to get in, throw all my belongings into a box, cry for a few minutes while I mourn losing the most gorgeous high- rise office I’ve ever had and then leave, forcing myself to never look back.
But as I place a cup of freshly sharpened pencils in a box, I hear a knock on the door.
“Hello,” Diego says, pausing before walking in. He’s a tall, lean man who looks like he runs more than he lifts weights. He’s always smiling, and his body language is very casual. “Mind if I come in?”
“Doesn’t matter to me,” I say, taking a sip of my iced latte. I’m going to miss the coffee here. Going back to a normal coffee pot in a dentist’s office break room is going to be a very sad downgrade. “I don’t own the place.”
“Whatcha’ doin’?” Diego asks while nodding towards the box. His hands are in his pockets.
“Packing,” I state the obvious.
“Why?” he presses. Jesus, no wonder he drives Damien crazy.
“Because I’m leaving.”
“Is that right?” His tone implies he doesn’t believe me.
“Yes.”
“Can I ask why?”
No you may not. That’s what I want to say. But if I had to guess, he is just going to keep pestering me until I answer him, so I might as well just tell him.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but Damien, uhh, Mr. Graves and I had a conversation recently that, if I had to guess, will probably result in him terminating my contract.
I’m sure that any minute now he is going to call me into his office to let me know.
So I figured I’d pack up before that happens.
It makes it less humiliating for both of us. ”
Diego lets out a noncommittal hmm before clicking his tongue. “You know, I have worked with Damien for a long time. I’ve been friends with him even longer. We were colleagues once upon a time, you know.”
“Fascinating,” I say as I gently place two small succulents into the box. I’m hoping my flat disinterest in his words will give him the hint that I’m not in the mood to talk. Unfortunately, Diego does not read the room.
“He’s not an easy man,” he goes on, and I actually snort at that.
“You’re telling me,” I mutter.
“But he is a good man. He just…he struggles with allowing himself to care about things. Namely, people.”
“Damien’s attachment issues are none of my concern. The contract was very clear about emotions being forbidden between us, and that has nothing to do with why I am leaving,” I say curtly.
“Really? Then why are you leaving? Because the last time I talked to him, he didn’t seem to know about it.”
“If he didn’t fill you in, then it’s definitely not my place to say,” I tell Diego, my eyes locked on his. “I can assure you that after our conversation on Friday–”
“When he came to your house,”
I stop and swallow hard. “I think it’s safe to say the contract is over.”
Diego studies me a bit longer before glancing out the window with a smile. “You’re good for him, you know that?”
“In what way?”
“In every way. If you want my advice, don’t jump to conclusions. And don’t give up. Be real with him. He needs it.”
Diego’s words are frustratingly vague, but he walks out before I can question them again. I go back to organizing my things and, a moment later, I hear wing tipped shoes on the marble flooring again.
“Jesus, now what–oh.” I stop myself, and my cheeks flush as Damien materializes in the doorway.
“Going somewhere?” he asks, nodding at the box the same way Diego did.
“I’m just…packing up.” My voice is soft as a lump forms in the back of my throat.
“You’re leaving?” he asks, and my eyes snap up to his.
“I assumed you were going to fire me.”
Damien takes a step closer. There is no harshness in his tone. No rigidity in his stance. “No. I’m not.”
I swallow back the lump, and he rubs the back of his neck.
“I guess I just assumed…”
“Nothing we talked about the other day changes anything, Ellie. The contract is still the same. Your position is still the same. With a few adjustments, of course.”
“Sir?” I ask shakily.
“I won’t schedule night shifts without at least forty-eight hours notice. You will also be allotted personal time off that you can use for school holidays as well as any appointments you need to tend to.”
“Oh,” the word comes out small. I don’t know what to say or think.
Damien takes another step closer, and his tone stays low. “Also, if you would be more comfortable changing into your provided work attire after arriving each day, that is acceptable too.”
In other words, he doesn’t expect me to go through the school drop-off line in form fitting dresses with slits up to my thighs.
“It probably gives the wrong impression anyway,” he adds.
The tiniest of smiles tugs at my lips. “Maybe a little,” I say with a shrug.
We stare at each other for a moment, and while it’s a silent moment, the air between us is thick with whatever chemistry we seem to have created in the last month.
Then, he clicks his tongue. “I want you to unpack. Finish your coffee. After that, go down to the spa. I’ll let Heather know you are coming for a 90-minute hot stone massage. ”
“Damien…”
“And then change into something that makes you feel beautiful because you and I are going to lunch.”
I don’t know what to say. I can hardly move. Damien walks out before I respond, and moments later, I take a breath. I press my hand to my pounding chest. I have no idea what is going on. But I also know better than to question it.
If you had told me even two months ago that I would be eating caviar at Ginger and Gin, I would have laughed at you. And if you’d told me I would actually enjoy caviar, I would have told you to fuck off. Yet, here I am.
Damien’s exact words to me were, wear something that makes you feel beautiful so I do just that. I’m in a pale-yellow maxi dress with a frost twist and a keyhole. It’s both classy and summery, and I love the color, especially when I have a tan. And thanks to my recent pool time, I do.
“So what do you think?” he asks as I scoop another cracker through the caviar and crème fra?che with lemon and green onions.
“If I’m being honest, I’m seriously surprised that I like it. I never thought I would,” I answer as I pat my mouth with a cloth napkin. Everything about this place is beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s the most lavish lunch I’ve ever had.
Damien smiles. A true smile. Then he reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. “You deserve to experience all of these things, and you’re going to.”
I laugh a little. I can’t help it. The whole thing…it’s just wild.
“What’s so funny?” he asks, still smiling, still holding my hand. “You don’t believe me?”
“I’m sorry, but just a few hours ago I thought you were going to fire me.”
“I told you I wasn’t,” he says. “If anything, all of this is to show you that I don’t want you to quit. I don’t care if you have kids or a past or any of that. At the end of the day, Ellie, you’re a killer personal assistant, and I’d be a fool to terminate you over something like that.”
I’m quiet for a moment while I digest those words.
This back and forth, push and pull. Ever since my breakup with Dylan, I have vowed never to let another man treat me like a puppet.
And I’ve kept that promise…until now. And yet, when it’s Damien pulling those strings, guiding those movements, it’s different.
I’m not in control, and I’m unsure whether I can trust it. But I don’t want him to stop.
The waitress set down our food, seared ahi for him and a pistachio-crusted chicken for me. We both take a bite or two before continuing the conversation. It’s also a bit wild how silence isn’t awkward with him.
I take my wineglass from the table, and our eyes meet. “I’m grateful that you’ve finally read my resume,” I say with a small laugh. “And I’m glad that me being a single mom isn’t going to be a problem.”
“Like I said, it changes nothing,” he says and takes another bite of his ahi. “I’ll make sure your job works around your home life. The last thing a boy needs is an absent mother.”
His words have a tinge of something under them, but I can tell it’s something I shouldn’t press. Instead, I ask, “Does it also not change anything that you and I…that we…”
“The masquerade,” he says, a word that I can’t bring myself to. Maybe because if I do, that means both of us are admitting that it happened. It was real. “About that night, Ellie…”
“Why are you calling me that?” I cut him off. “I thought you hated nicknames.”
“I do,” he admits, swirling his wine glass. “But it’s what you prefer to be called, and I don’t hate the way it sounds when I say it.”
It earns a small smile from me. “About that night then?”
“The red dress. The black mask with the sequins and the feathers. The pink cocktail with the slice of pear. I knew when you were drinking that, the way you bit into the pear slice, that I remembered you from somewhere,” he pauses, his eyes distant.
If I had to guess, that distance is six years.
Then, “I can’t stop… I mean…I think of that masked woman often. ”
“Oh? Like the way she was a hot mess and spilled her drink on her dress?” I ask.
“If I remember correctly, that wasn’t her fault,” he says quietly.
“How often…do you think of her, I mean?” I ask. My heart is tight in my chest. His words, all of them, are words I have imagined before but never thought I’d actually hear.
Damien looks right at me. “She haunts me. No one has ever…affected me…the way she did. Until you. I often questioned if I made the whole thing up. If it was some kind of lucid dream meant to save me from my less than exciting life.”
“Your life is exciting to me,” I say and then immediately wish I could take the words back.
“My life is empty,” he says, and something flashes in his eyes that tells me he wants to take back his words too. It’s quiet for another beat before he goes on. “Have dinner with me. Tonight.”
I blink and my lips twitch, unsure whether to worry or smile. “For work?” I ask.
“No,” Damien shakes his head. “Not for work. Not at the Opal Room. Just dinner. With me. Can you?”
“My sister has Luca tonight,” I answered softly.
“Luca,” he repeats.
“Yes. I might be able to do that.”
“You can think about it. Just let me know.”
We go back to the hotel, and my mind is swirling. Asking me to lunch so we could clear the air was one thing; not firing me was another, but now, asking me to dinner, unrelated to work…it’s almost as if it’s a date. I haven’t really decided what to think of it.
Damien and I walk into the lobby, and I stop.
“There she is!” Luca’s voice echoes through the Redwood lobby as he bolts away from Rachel and straight into my arms.
“Oh my goodness,” I laugh, wrapping my arms around him. “What are you doing here?”
I lift him up and glance back at Rachel as she approaches me with a smile. “We were out for ice cream, and he wanted to see you, so we thought we’d surprise you.”
“Well, it is definitely a surprise!” I laugh, giving her a hug that sandwiches Luca between us. Then Rachel’s eyes turn to Damien.
“Who is he?” Luca asks.
“He’s my boss,” I say with a smile. “Mr. Graves.”
“Damien,” he corrects me, extending a hand to Rachel before looking at Luca with smile-less curiosity. He turns to me. “My offer still stands.”
“What offer is that?” Rachel asks.
“Dinner tonight,” I say.
“Unrelated to work,” Damien adds, and I feel my cheeks flush. Rachel gives me a look before saying, “that sounds exciting.”
I open my mouth to say something, but before I can, Damien speaks for me. “Why don’t you and Luca come along, Rachel?”
“To dinner?” She asks, and her eyes sparkle. Rachel loves being doted over. She also never says no.
“Like at a restaurant?” Luca exclaims. “We never go to restaurants. Where would we go?”
“Anywhere you like,” Damien answers. I guess that means I can’t say no either.
I glance at Damien, and I swear there’s a smile hidden in there somewhere. A satisfactory one.