That kiss.
I keep flashing back to it, and this rattles the shit out of me because I’ve kissed too many women to count. It’s not even like it was a deep, passionate kiss, either—very minor tongue, and only because she unexpectedly opened her mouth a little and seemed like she wanted it. It was what I felt, inside, when I kissed her.
But her reaction...she acted more stressed out than turned on. I can’t afford to scare her off, not at this point. Besides that—I like her.
The whimper she made, though.
I’m having a tough time knowing which to believe: what I heard in that sound, or what I saw in her eyes...which was almost like fear. She definitely seemed keyed up on the phone when she was listing off those conditions, and when she got to the physical part, it seemed like she thought I’d crossed a line she didn’t want crossed. So I quickly agreed to it, and besides, I’d already decided before we met that the physical shouldn’t happen.
I pass Eva on my way in to my mother’s office. She gives me a big smile and a wink, and I feel a little zing of guilt in my gut, because I’ve got to stop this. I’ll plan to catch her at the end of the day—ask her to come in my office, although not in the sexual sense like before. I’ll be up front with her about how we have to end it, and hopefully she’ll understand.
The CEO and I are having a working lunch in her office. My mother is a big fan of working lunches—I have no doubt that it’s a control thing and that she requests them just because she can. She doesn’t reserve it just for me, though—she likes to spread it all around the office, too, so each of us can have the joy of breaking bread with Gloria Cavanaugh. Her usual routine is to eyeball what you’re eating, compliment it in some way, and wait for you to offer her some, because the only things she typically brings for herself are salads and diet Cokes.
My mother asked me—or more accurately, told me—that we needed to meet today to discuss how production has been falling behind completing orders. So we’re talking about this while I chow on my leftover Chinese food.
She glares at me over her reading glasses, forking a wilted piece of lettuce and bringing it to her lips. She’s clearly got lunch envy, and I have to tighten my jaw muscles to keep from cracking up. It’s also hard to take her seriously, since she’s wearing three layers of paper napkins that look like a huge bib over her ivory jacket.
“Damon, I know you’re aware that we’ve lost one of our best finish carpenters and need to replace him as soon as possible.”
“I’m very aware, Mother. In fact, I believe I was the one who shared the news with you in the first place.”
“You’re being insubordinate.” She fixes her gaze on the food in my styrofoam container. “What is that? Chicken lo mein?”
“Yes, and spring rolls. I’ll make sure to get Kevin on finding a suitable replacement for the carpenter.”
“Suitable isn’t what we’re looking for. We need exemplary. Nothing less.”
I twirl my fork in the lo mein noodles and slurp them up noisily while my mother gives me dagger eyes. “Exemplary. Got it.” It hits me that I probably should offer her some of my lunch to sweeten her mood, seeing as I’m going to be making an announcement that has the potential to make that tight blonde bun explode. But it has to be done.
I met Delaney yesterday after she got done work, in the parking lot of the Ellsworth library, so she could sign the contract I drew up. She looked cute as hell in a bright pink jacket and jeans, her hair up in a ponytail, but she seemed flustered and nervous and wouldn’t really make eye contact, which bothered me, honestly. I can’t blame her, though—it was only the day before that I’d given her the proposal, and something that major takes a while to sink in.
She read the contract carefully, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. Once she was done, she took the pen from me and signed the paper with a shaky hand. I told her I’d be in touch when I needed her to start playing the girlfriend role, and she drove off in her silver Sonata.
And now, to get the ball rolling with Mommie Dearest. Jesus.
I stand up with my styrofoam container and fork a spring roll into her salad. She pounces on it immediately. Makes no goddamned sense that she continues to bring salads for lunch when she obviously doesn’t like them. One of the many quirks that make Gloria Cavanaugh, Gloria Cavanaugh.
“I’ve been keeping something from you, Mother.”
That gets her attention, but not to the extent I expected. She finishes chewing, lifts a brow and regards me coolly. “Let me see if I can guess. You’re clearly not a homosexual, so that’s off the table.” Her lips twitch. “You’re screwing Jocelyn in accounting. You’ve stolen from the company. You found out where I hide the Godiva chocolates. You’re screwing Bridget in receiving. Ah, the irony...”
Gloria looks immensely pleased with herself as she finishes off the spring roll, which I am now pretty bullshit about giving her. “Am I close with any of those, Damon?”
“No.” Now, I almost relish the thought of telling her. “I’ve been seeing someone.”
“That’s what you’ve been keeping from me?” She snorts, pulls open her desk drawer, takes out a little bottle of breath spray and gives her open mouth a few squirts. “You see people all the time, Damon. This is nothing new.”
“It’s new in that this is serious. It’s a relationship.”
Her cheek muscles tighten as she reaches in her drawer for a lipstick and mirror, painting her mouth scarlet and then blotting it with her napkin bib. “Funny that this relationship—” (she makes air quotes) “—just happens to come to light after I’ve told you my expectations surrounding Portia Bellamy.”
“It’s just a coincidence. I’ve been planning on telling you.”
“Did this relationship (more air quotes) happen before or after our intern was on her knees?”
Knew she’d go there, but I’m prepared. “I ended my involvement with Eva the night I met Delaney.”
“So this relationship is new.”
“Fairly new, yes. But it’s serious, and I plan on a future with her.”
“How very serendipitous. Who is she?”
“No one that you know. And I’ll be honest, she’s not in the social circles I know you prefer. She actually works for a machine company in sales and customer service.”
“This just keeps getting better. Is there a ring on this girl’s finger?”
“No, Mother. As you know, we haven’t been together that long. But I expect that will happen in the near future.”
“How did you meet her?”
“Saw her at a bar in Ellsworth. She’s very beautiful—the type of woman to really stand out in a crowd.”
My mother’s gaze is steely. “You’ve always surrounded yourself with beautiful women. Just like your father, may he continue to burn in eternal hell.”
“Dad’s not dead, Mother.”
“Oh, but he’s dead to me.” She tosses her half-eaten salad into the trash can beside her desk. “All right—you’ve told me your little secret. And it doesn’t matter. You’re not married, you’re not even engaged, and I really don’t care how many women you choose to fornicate with, as long as you’re discreet. Portia will be here in nine days.” Her blue eyes look like cold marbles. “Arranged marriages are a thing of the past. Unfortunately. But you will get to know Portia, personally as well as professionally...entertain her, so to speak, and be open to the possibility of a relationship with her. I have no doubt that when she meets you, she’ll want to pursue you. I want what is best for this company. And what is best for this company is acquiring Bellamy Marine—which can be accomplished with a marriage between you and Portia. Have I made myself clear, Damon?”
It’s not a good thing to despise the person who gave you life, but I fucking do. There’s a hot rush of blood to my face, but I’ve got to stay calm. She may not be able to force me to marry, but I know all too well that she could fire me in a heartbeat, and I don’t think she’d bat an eye. “Perfectly clear, Mother.”
“Good. You’ll be picking Portia up at the airport next Thursday. I’ll get you her flight schedule.”
Standing up to leave, I dump the remnants of my lunch in her wastebasket, getting a little satisfaction that she would have liked to eat it.
“Damon.” My mother is smiling, but it’s not a friendly smile. It’s an I’m plotting something kind of smile. “Why don’t you introduce me to your newest conquest before Portia arrives, so I can see for myself how committed the two of you are? Kensington Winery is hosting Pairings at the Point this Saturday. They’re having a benefit and a food drive for the homeless shelter. You can bring her to that. Just make sure she cleans up properly—you know, from being in the machine shop.”
There are days that I consider my father to be the luckiest guy on Earth to be away from Gloria, and this is one of those days. She may have won this little skirmish, but I sure as fuck plan to win the war. Even though I’m well aware she’s planning to sabotage my new relationship, there’s no use in refusing to go this weekend—I need to get the initial meeting over with.
Delaney Brewster, get ready for your acting debut. Opening night is Saturday.
Jesus, I hope she’s able to handle the audience.