Trust Me (9 page)

On my way back to him, I stop as I see Damien arguing with some guy. I know I haven’t known him very long, but he is clearly different with me versus whoever this person is. They’re having a quiet, heated discussion. Damien’s body language alone keeps me from walking up to interrupt them.

I feel like one of those neighbors who hides behind the curtains of their home to watch what’s going on. From what I can see, this guy has on a tailored suit. It’s similar but not as nice as Damien’s. The guy has sandy blond hair reaching the top of his shoulders, and he’s almost as tall as Damien. To most people, I’m sure he’s attractive, but next to Damien, he doesn’t even compare.

All of a sudden, Damien leans into this guy, and his face is full of absolute fury. I have no idea what he’s saying, but whatever it is effectively silences the other guy because he takes off in the other direction. Damien is tensely staring in the direction where the mysterious man went.

When he turns and catches my eye, his whole demeanor changes. He swiftly walks my way, looking back only once. When he gets to me, he puts his arm around my waist and briskly moves me toward the exit.

Curiosity, of course, gets the best of me. “Is everything okay? Who was that?”

“It’s fine. That was just business.”

His tone tells me I don’t want to push him here in the hotel lobby.
Plus, who doesn’t have intense discussions at times?

We are almost to the door at the lobby when I remember something. “Oh wait, I need to check out.”

“It’s already been handled.” He’s still pulling me through the door.

When we are outside, I yank free of his hold. “Do not tell me you paid for my hotel stay. Damien, damn it, I am not going to be some kept woman. I can pay for my hotel.”

He doesn’t say a word as he secures his arm around my waist and continues moving us towards his vehicle. He loads my luggage and puts me—
yes, puts me!
—in the front seat. I am fuming. Part of me wants to throw a bitch fit, but my self-respect ends up winning out in the end. This man totally knows no bounds at times. After he’s settled in the car, he pulls out from the front of the hotel, drives into the adjoining parking lot, and stops the car again.

His voice is rough and agitated. “First off, you are not some kept woman. To imply it fucking pisses me off. After the conversations and time we’ve spent together, I would think you would realize you are much, much more to me than that. I am going to take care of you, Alli. Why the fuck should it matter?”

“Hey, you need to calm down and take a step back from this. I was brought up to be a self-reliant woman, and all these gestures limiting my independence are just as infuriating to me as my unwillingness to accept them are to you. We are going to have to find a middle ground. Let’s table this discussion for later unless you really want to have it out during our last couple of hours together.” I take the tone my mom always used when she was effectively ending the conversation. My dad always knew when it was time to walk away. I laugh inwardly because it seems to work on Damien, too, as I can tell he’s about to concede.

He’s still a little riled, but so am I. Whatever he and that guy talked about has put a spur in his saddle.

“Fine, we’ll talk about it later.” As he begins to drive again, he adds more softly, “Have you let Sam know that you have an alternate ride home?”

“Not yet. I know I am going to be barraged with text messages from her responding to the email I sent to her prior to turning off my phone. Answering her questions will give me something to do at the airport.” I pull out my lip gloss from my purse and add some to my lips, trying to dissipate the intensity of the situation.

“What did you send her?”

Oh gosh, we are just jumping from one hot topic to another this morning. Why can’t I keep my mouth shut?
“Listen to the full story before you go all He-Man on me, okay?” I wait for his assent.

“Alli…”

“No, you’re a little jumpy, and I’m not sure why.” I look pointedly at him.

“I just want you to be safe.”

“I am safe.”

He doesn’t look convinced, and honestly, it’s too early for me to delve into that with barely half a cup of coffee in me.

Hoping to placate the conversation, not him, I continue, “So, Sam, being Sam, left me departing words to find a guy on my trip. Of course, she was just playing around because she knows how I am. I sent her an email when I got to my room, saying I was obeying her departing orders. I had not met a guy at the time, and really, I just sent it to provoke her.”
I cannot believe I got all that out in one breath.

He looks over at me curiously. “But now, you have met a guy.”

I smile coyly at him. “Yes, I have.”

“And are you going to tell her today?” One of his hands comes out and grabs my hand.

“I planned on it.” I smirk at him, and then I suddenly realize we may not be to that point yet. “But I don’t have to. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

He looks at me as if I just grew a third head, and I cannot help but giggle at his expression.

“Yes, Alli, I want everyone to know as soon as you’re comfortable with it. Is there any way I can meet Sam next week when I get back?”

“Sure. I’m not sure what we have planned though. What were you thinking?”

“Whatever works best. Just talk to her and let me know.”

It makes me feel good that he wants to meet my friend and actually engage himself in my life. “Sounds good.”

We pull into a quaint little diner off the beaten path. As we walk in, it reminds me of a place two elderly ladies would run. Everything is done in mismatched antiques. The pieces all fit together in that odd sort of way. It’s set up in little coves, so each seating area is semiprivate. They have homemade pastries and an assortment of quiches to choose from.

“This place is fantastic,” I say.

“I’m glad you think so. It was where I had planned to take you yesterday morning.”

My cheeks blush a little, thinking about how I fainted on our first date.
Classy. Definitely need a subject change.
“So, what do you do for a living?”

“I’m in real estate and dabble in other investments.”

For some reason, I get a picture of the Monopoly man playing with all his money after he passes Go.

It’s quickly approaching nine, and the car will be here any minute. Damien pays the bill, and we walk outside just as my ride arrives to take me to the airport.

Damien pulls me to him. “I wish you were staying, but I’ll be back on Tuesday. Please be safe. Keep me posted when you land. I’ll be in meetings for most of the day, so I’ll need to text. But if you need me, call me and I will pick up. Okay?”

“Okay. Hope you enjoy your meetings. It sounds like so much fun.” I cannot suppress the sarcasm in my voice.

He smiles. “I’ll talk to you this evening.”

He leans down and kisses me. Just as I start to lean in and forget the rest of the world, he pulls away, and it’s over.

He puts his forehead against mine and groans. “Soon. It is going to be soon. I may try to get home earlier.”

This
soon
he speaks of needs to hurry up and get here. I know I’m going to lose my virginity to Damien, and I am ready.

“That would be wonderful.”

After I’m settled in the car, he closes the door and watches as the car pulls away. Being separated from him is going to be hard. When I can no longer see him, I turn on my phone and prepare for the onslaught from Sam. She doesn’t disappoint as one text after another appears.

Sam: Guy? What guy? Are you serious?

Sam: Allison, radio silence is so not cool.

Sam: You better be having screaming hot sex.

Sam: Please tell me he has a hot ass.

Sam: Can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Miss you!

Originally, there was no guy, but now, there really is a guy. I’m actually putting myself out there again. I just pray Damien handles my heart with care. This is probably the most irrational and illogical thing I have ever done. Biting the initial bullet, I text Sam back and break the news to her.

Me: Headed to the airport. Yes, I really met a guy. Long story. Want you to meet him next week.

I hear back from her almost immediately.

Sam: Are you shitting me? Don’t screw with me, not on this.

Me: Yes, I swear. I’ll tell you about it this evening. Pizza? My place?

Sam: You’re on. If you are screwing with me, just remember payback is a bitch.

Me: I’m not. On earlier flight. No need to pick me up. I have a car bringing me home. Long story.

Sam: What time do you get back? What is his name? What does he do?

Me: I’ll be home at five, and I will give you all the deets then.

Sam: Okay. Can’t wait.

Me: Me, too.

As the car pulls into the airport, I’m pleased at how well that went with Sam. The driver hands me my luggage, and I head inside to check in. The airport lines are short, and I make it to the gate in plenty of time.

While waiting to board the plane, I sit and reflect about all that has happened. I already miss Damien, and I haven’t even been away from him for more than an hour.
Oh, that’s right. He asked me to let him know when I made it.
I pull out my phone and send him a text.

Me: Hey, I made it to the airport. Hope meetings are going well.

Damien: Very glad to hear it. The meeting could be going better. I wish I were with you instead.

Me: Me, too. Just imagine I’m there.

Damien: Not the same.

Me: Good answer. About to board the plane.

Damien: Be safe.

Me: Will do.

I make my way onto the plane. It’s hard to believe that just a few days ago, I was coming to Miami with the weight of the world on my shoulders. Now, I am heading home with a whole new perspective and a boyfriend. My parents’ death still saddens me, of course, but I am starting to feel free to live my life again.

The flight to Atlanta is smooth, and my luggage arrives just as I make it to the baggage carousel. A tall, skinny man in a black driver’s suit is standing at the exit, and he’s holding a sign that says
Miss Allison Scott
.

As I walk up to him, I extend my hand. “I’m Allison.”

He shakes my hand in return. “This way, ma’am. Mr. Wales has been informed that your plane arrived safely.”

Of course, he was.

The driver takes my suitcase and leads the way to the car. We get into a black town car with black leather interior. It’s nice not having to deal with traffic myself, so I can just enjoy the ride. I text Damien, wondering how his day is going.

Me: I made it to Atlanta, and I’m safely in the car.

Damien: Glad to hear it.

Me: Are you still in meetings?

Damien: Unfortunately. I wish you could have stayed.

Me: Me, too, but it’s only a few days. By the way, how old are you?

Damien: There’s no way I can be apart from you for that long. I’m definitely going to make arrangements to come home early. Does it matter?

Me: Yay! Honestly, no, but I’ll sound like a moron if I don’t know your age.

Damien: Twenty-eight.

Me: Oh…wow. Did I mention I have an age rule? I must have forgotten that.

Damien: What?

Me: No one over twenty-five. If I rely on my sound math skills, I think twenty-eight is older than twenty-five.

Damien: Not fucking funny, Alli.

Me: Hmm, I might make an exception for you. That meeting is making you a grump.

Damien: Grump? I’m not a grump. Making an exception would be a lot better than the other option.

Me: Yes. Grump. Other option?

Damien: If I had you in my arms, I wouldn’t be a grump. The other option would be to persuade you in a way you cannot imagine that makes twenty-eight an acceptable age.

Me: Hmm, I might choose this option instead. Will your lips be involved?

Damien: Among other things.

Me: Definitely going with this other option. Pulling up. Wish me luck. I’ll call later. If I forget, give me a call. Sam and I can talk for hours and lose track of time.

Damien: Will do. Stay safe.

What is his deal with safety?
We are going to have to discuss that soon because it’s almost all-consuming to him, and I think it causes him to act a tad extreme at times.