24
THEA
The car ride to the property on Olive Way is silent and awkward—it’s unusual for Cassie and I. I can sense there’s something on her mind and although I want to ask, I’m afraid I’m the source of it. We’re nearly there when she turns down the music. I know it’s coming.
“We had two bad reviews come in over the last couple of days. A one star and two stars. From your clients.” Cassie stares at the road ahead. I can tell by the tight lines around her mouth this isn’t a conversation she wants to be having either. “Why didn’t you tell me you were late for another appointment?” The hurt straining her voice puts an ache in my chest, like I’ve betrayed her.
“Cass… I’m sorry. It’s not my fault, I think there’s something wrong with the booking software. I called the company on Tuesday and they’re looking into it, but couldn’t find anything when I was on the phone with them.”
She puts a hand up. “Thea, the excuses aren’t going to cut it. My bookings have been fine. If there was an issue with the software, it would be affecting me too. This is going to hurt our business. What’s going on with you?”
I try to steady my breathing, not wanting to become defensive. However, I can feel those familiar walls of safety coming up around me. “I don’t know,” I mumble. Anything I say is going to be an excuse in her eyes.
“Word of mouth is vital for us booking new clients. It’s almost solely how we get all of our business. Without that, we’re screwed. You need to get your head in the game.” Cassie sighs and her white knuckled grip on the steering wheel eases. “I know I can be hard on you. I’m only trying to make sure that we’re successful. This can’t fail. I don’t want you to have to go back to your parents. The bank needs to see that we are bringing in a steady income if we want to get through this process.”
I wish her acknowledgement of being tough on me made me feel better. It doesn’t.
“I know. I’m going to get all of this figured out. It won’t happen again,” I promise, hoping I can keep it.
Somewhat satisfied that she’s gotten through to me, she offers me a tight smile. “At least we won’t have to worry about the studio rent for the next couple of months. That helps a little, even if it was a little off putting.” Cassie turns up the music. I turn the dial back down.
“What do you mean? Why don’t we have to worry about it?”
Her face twists in confusion. “I got a check in the mail yesterday to cover rent for the next two months. I thought you knew.”
“Who paid our rent, Cassie?” My heart beats wildly as I try to run through names. Gavin. Cole. My parents. Her parents. With the batshit crazy things that have been happening, I can’t rule anyone out.
“The check was from Damian. You really didn’t know?”
I run my hands over my face. Fucking princess treatment. “No, I didn’t know. Tell me you didn’t cash it.”
She laughs. “Of course I did, Thea. I assumed you knew. Although, I found it strange that you didn’t give me a heads up and that it came from what looked like Damian’s personal account. I figured if Cole had him write it, it would have come from a business account or Cole’s personal one.” I watch as her face scrunches, like she’s trying to piece something together. “Thea, why would Damian write a six thousand dollar check from his personal account? And how does he know how much our rent is if you didn’t know he was doing this?”
I groan. I’m not sure if Damian assumed I’d told Cassie about our relationship, but I hadn’t. It’s looking like I have to fess up. I’m not ready to have this talk yet. He even went as far as finding out how much our rent is. Who does that? He’s a fucking psycho. I’m going to give him an earful later.
“He knows I’ve been stressed, that’s why. This is his way of helping.”
Cass shakes her head. “Why would he care—” She stops herself. “Thea, why would he care enough to pay two months of rent?”
I sigh and tell her as bluntly as possible. “Because I’m dating him.”
Her foot hits the brake. Thankfully, we’re on the long dirt road that leads to the property and no one’s behind us. “I’m sorry, what? Are you and Cole done? What the hell have I missed?”
“Cole and I are still together.”
She eases the car forward, but slowly, dragging out our approach—knowing that neither of us can concentrate if we’re left on this cliffhanger.
“So… you’re dating both Cole and Damian?” I shake my head. “You’re dating all of them?” Cassie’s always been smart and I’m glad for it now. She doesn’t make me spell it out for her. I nod, staring out at the property as it comes into view. I hear Cass let out a long breath. “Let’s get this offer in and we can talk on the drive home.”
The walkthrough goes quickly. We love it as much as we did the first time we saw it. The realtor takes our offer and tells us she will let us know if it gets accepted.
I was hoping I’d have more time before we got back into the car. However, before I know it, we’re driving into town.
“I mean, I know what I saw on game night, but I thought they’d all fight over you or something. This… is not what I was expecting.” Her voice is softer now. Somehow that makes me more nervous. “How? Why?” She can’t seem to find the right question, so I help her along.
“They have an arrangement, a pact. They share everything. Assets, finances—”
“Women,” she interrupts.
“Yes, women as well. When I found out, I took a couple of days to think about it. It was the weekend that my parents came into town and their visit was awful. I didn’t tell you then, but they told me they are the ones who sent Gavin to ‘win’ me back. My mom kept going on and on about how my clock was ticking and I should give him another chance so I can get married and have babies.” Cassie’s face screws in disgust. “And after their visit, I realized I don’t care about any of that. I don’t care about having this picture perfect life I’ve been told I needed. It doesn’t matter if it’s only perfect on the surface. Why would I chase a life with a man who hurts me when I could try this… this thing with four men who treat me like I’m the center of their world? My picture can be perfect. It just might not look like everyone else’s.”
She’s silent for a few minutes. “How does it work? It seems complicated.”
“I thought so too. So far it’s been good. I was worried there would be jealousy or hurt feelings, but there’s none of that. They’re exclusive to me and I’m exclusive to them.”
“And you all do… stuff together?” It’s a valid question, the same one I had for Cole after I decided to give this a try.
“I haven’t really done anything with them, well, except a little with Cole. We’re all just getting to know each other. It’s like having four separate relationships where everyone knows about one another. Everyone helps one another, there’s a support system, and…” I suddenly realize that Damian’s check is part of that. Him showing me I’m a part of them. I now have a support system. “And everyone cares for each other, truly cares.”
Cassie thinks about what I say for most of the drive back to the studio. When she finally speaks, her words are gentle. Still, they’re filled with warning. “Thea, I’m happy that you seem to have found something good, but this feels like a recipe for disaster. I’m worried you’ll get hurt. Getting your heart broken by four guys… I don’t want you to end up in a bad place. At the end of the day, they’ll all still have each other. Who will you have?”
I want to say her. I’ll have Cassie, although I know that’s not what she means. She’ll be there for me, however, she has her own life. She has Anthony, her side of the business, and her parents. What will I have? Myself. That’s all I’ve ever been able to count on.
I don’t want to let her worries get to me, yet I can’t help it. I don’t utter those fears aloud, instead I tell her what I keep telling myself.
“I have it under control.” The lie sits in the air, taunting me. I know I haven’t convinced Cassie either as she stares at me with those worried eyes.
Not all men are the same.They won’t break your heart. I want to believe it, but doubt creeps in. Who will I have if it all falls apart? The thought echoes in my head the rest of the way back to the studio.
I brace myself as I knock on Damian’s door. This is silly. I turn to leave, hoping he didn’t hear, however, I only make it a few steps into the kitchen when it opens. Pausing, I wring my fingers, trying to think of an excuse.
“Need something, princess?”
I turn and find him leaning against his doorway. His auburn hair is falling over his forehead in waves and those ice-blue eyes dance with intrigue. My mind flashes back to him decking Gavin at the carnival, all that power and here he is, smirking at me.
“Um… I had a question, but never mind. It’s probably not something you can help me with. Sorry for bothering you.” I turn around, prepared to go to the guest room and bury my face in the pillow out of embarrassment.
Why does he do this to me? I’ve been able to go toe-to-toe with him up until the carnival. After that night, Damian earned my respect. Not that I condone violence, but Gavin had it coming—he wasn’t afraid to stand up to my ex. Then, there was yesterday.
Cassie revealing that he paid our rent at the studio upset me at first. I’ve never needed a man to cover my bills. The thought of it makes me irrationally angry. Then I started dissecting why that was. Why do I refuse to accept help? Why can’t I be okay with Damian’s kind gesture?
All roads lead back to my parents. While my mom preached for me to settle down and have a cushy life at Gavin’s expense, the way she raised me made me into someone who’d never want that. Their neglect transformed me into an independent woman who doesn’t need help from anyone, least of all a man.
When all of that clicked while laying in bed last night, I toyed with a strange idea. What if I accepted Damian’s help? What’s the worst that could happen? It’s a gift. Take it.
I’ve gone back and forth on whether I could accept it and decided I would. I’d thank him and not give it another thought. Liar. Well, I can thank him and stuff the thoughts into the back of my head where he’d never know.
“Well, that’s insulting. You obviously knocked on my door for a reason. Tell me.” It’s not a request, that’s clear. Shifting uncomfortably, I hate to ask him. He’s already done so much.
Turning, I work to not meet that intense gaze. Instead, I focus on… oh… those arms. His black shirt hugs his biceps tightly, matching the black ink covering his skin. I glance down. “I’m having trouble with my tablet’s booking software. I called customer support, they said the program is working fine. It doesn’t make sense. A bunch of my appointments were changed randomly.” I peek up at him. “You know about computers and I thought you could help, but it’s not a big deal.”
“Do you have the tablet with you?” I nod and pull it out of my satchel that’s on the kitchen island. Damian motions for me to come with him.
I hesitate, but still follow.
Nervousness rises at the thought of being in his room. The place where he spends most of his time as far as I can tell—always with his door closed.
Damian’s room is the only one on the ground floor. The hallway is long and through a cracked door on the left, I see a bathroom. To my right, there’s another door. It’s shut. Probably a closet. The corridor spits us out into a large bedroom.
I’m not sure what I expected, but it wasn’t this. The first thing I notice are the floor to ceiling windows that line two of the walls. Heavy ivory drapes frame each. Beyond the glass is pure greenery. A deck runs the length of the windows and I imagine how amazing it must feel with the door propped open during fall.
Damian sits at a tidy computer desk off to the right. His room is a mix of darkness and warmth. Is that a reflection of himself? Is there warmth hidden deep down in Damian?
The walls are a rich black, yet everything else is in varying shades of brown—from ivory to a deep walnut. Opposite of where he sits is his bed—large and framed by a rustic slatted wood headboard. The mess of covers and pillows are the only untidy things about his perfectly put together room.
In front of me, between his bed and the desk, there is a sitting area with a small love seat and two armchairs facing towards a modest TV. It makes me wonder what kinds of things Damian watches—there’s nothing I can imagine. I make a note to ask him once I get to know him better.
Joining him, I hand him the tablet and point out the app icon for the booking software. On my phone, I pull up the list of appointments I’ve found with issues. “These are all the ones that were changed. All moved a day ahead, only the date changed, not the time.”
Damian taps the screen repeatedly, much too fast for me to realize what he’s doing.
While he’s distracted, I decide to tell him I’m grateful for his help. “Damian, I just wanted to say thank you for what you did… with the studio rent. It really wasn’t necessary.” I want to kick myself for adding the last part out of habit.
“Yes, it was,” he says absentmindedly. “If you have to worry about rent, then you’ll be distracted when you’re spending time with us.” He glances up at me briefly before turning back to the tablet. “We want your full attention and if that means paying your rent so that you can relax and not worry for a couple of months, I’m happy to do it.”
“It’s too much. We hardly know each other. I don’t want you to think that I expect this kind of thing. I’m not here to take advantage.” That familiar need to provide for myself rises. I can’t help it.
This makes him swivel in his chair to look at me. His face is all hardness from his narrowed eyes to his lips set in a straight line. “Would it be so wrong for you to expect things like that? Do you not deserve to be taken care of?” I open my mouth, but don’t know how to answer. No one’s ever asked me anything like that before. “Taking care of you makes me feel good. Sending water to you at work. Helping you with computer stuff. Paying your rent. Knowing that it’ll make your life easier makes me happy. Do you want me to be happy, princess?”
“I-uh, yes?” It’s more of a question than an answer. The hardness in his face sets in deeper. “Yes, yes. I want to make you happy.” He smiles and his face softens, then he turns back to his desk and continues tapping away on the tablet.
“Besides, if I thought you were taking advantage of us, you wouldn’t be here at all.” He gives me a look that I don’t quite understand. Something reminiscent of smugness. “Check your phone.” As soon as he says it, I get a notification and open it. He takes my phone and forwards the email to himself.
“What was that?”
He pulls up his browser. “I downloaded the data from the app. I needed it sent to me, so I forwarded it.” Damian clicks the email and opens the file. I try to decipher what’s on the screen, but he’s moving too fast for me to grasp onto anything. “Here.”
I let out a sigh of frustration. “Damian, I don’t know what I’m looking at.”
He smiles, glancing up at me from the corner of his eye. “I’ve filtered all the lines of data that are flagged as manually modified. These lines are inputs of the bookings you’ve recorded. Any time there is a change to an existing booking, a new line is created and flagged as manually modified.”
“How did you figure out how to do that?” I lean over him to study the hundreds of lines in front of me. I’m truly astonished at how quickly he could get the data and sort it.
Suddenly, I’m aware of our closeness, so I back up.
“I’d love to take the credit for impressing you with my genius, but I got lucky this time. Not all apps have an option for this. And most probably wouldn’t have a log of changes. Looks like the universe is on your side today.”
I grin and scan over the lines on the screen. The appointments I noted on my phone are all there, twice. “These ones…” I point to the latest set of data. “They’re from when I corrected all the bookings. And these…” My finger travels up higher on the screen. “These are the ones that were changed from the original booking, right?”
“Exactly,” he confirms.
“What’s the date on that first set of changes?”
He scrolls up and points. All the changes were recorded on June twenty-sixth.
Why does that date feel important?
Pulling up the calendar on my phone, I flick to the month prior and click on the twenty-sixth. My parent’s visit.
“That’s not possible,” I say in disbelief. “I took that day off work. My parents were visiting. I couldn’t have changed it.” I turn and start walking aimlessly around the room, trying to think. “Does it show what time the changes happened?”
He pores over the data. “Around eight fifty p.m.”
“Cassie wouldn’t be at the studio that late. What the fuck?” My hands are shaking and I want to blame it on anger, yet in my heart, I know it’s fear. “How…?”
Damian comes to stand in front of me, taking my chin between his fingers. “Hey.” I look him in the eyes and the intensity of his stare feels too heavy. “I think we both know that this is probably Gavin’s handiwork. But I don’t think he’s going to be a problem anymore. To be safe, I’m going to install security cameras in your reception area. Okay?”
I’d underestimated Gavin greatly. The notes, sure, that was likely him. However, the part missing from my truck—I’d dismissed Cole’s assumption that it was my ex. Now, I’m positive he was behind it and tampering with my bookings as well. I was with him for twelve years and thought I knew all of his toxic traits. Apparently, he kept his psychotic side well-hidden.
“Listen,” Damian says in a commanding tone, “I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”
Staring up at him, I don’t know what to say. I barely know him, but in this short time he’s shown no hesitation in physically defending me, financially helping me, and emotionally… well, we haven’t gotten there yet.
“Yes,” I answer confidently. It makes him grin. I don’t think he realizes how beautiful he is when he smiles genuinely like this. I can’t stop staring at him. So badly, I want to reach out and run my hand across the stubble on his jaw.
“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs.
My breathing picks up and I think we both realize just how close our bodies are. His tongue darts out and wets his lips. For a moment, I’m sure he’s going to kiss me. The thought terrifies me. Our relationship thus far has been one of contention. He pushes me and I push back. Still, there’s something deliciously dark about him I’m drawn to.
Heat rushes to my cheeks at the thought.
As my eyes flutter closed, his fingers leave my chin and I feel him step away. When I open them, he’s returned to his desk, his back to me. I burn red at the rejection and hightail it towards the kitchen.
“Thea, your tablet,” he calls out. Fuck me. I hurry back to him, taking the tablet from his desk. I mutter a thank you before retreating like a kicked puppy.