I look up from the conference table to find Eva the intern staring at me. She’s sitting in on my impromptu Marketing 101 course with Portia and snakes out her tongue, running it suggestively around her lips. Jesus. I give her a smile that I hope conveys friendship, not flirting. I honestly feel like an idiot for getting involved with her in the first place—workplace hookups are usually a lousy idea. Her last day is tomorrow, and Helen’s putting together a little goodbye breakfast like we do with all our interns.
Portia, who’s sitting to my right, flicks her eyes from Eva to me, her face registering knowing amusement. She’s sharp, this one—reads people well and also has been asking some great questions about the business. I guess she could be considered an intern, but unlike Eva, if she’s attracted to me, she’s keeping a lid on it. All our interactions continue to be friendly and professional. Which kind of makes me respect her more.
“So to recap...we’ve found that participating in boat shows across the country gives us our best return on investment.”
Portia looks down at the sheets of graphs Eva printed for us, nodding. “We have a different dynamic in our smaller country and have to work within the European Union to find prospective buyers in the Mediterranean, coast of France, and Spain.”
“Do any of those countries in the EU have boat shows or conferences Bellamy could participate in? We find them to be very effective.”
“I could find out. And perhaps get them stahted, if not.”
There’s a knock on the door, and Jocelyn from accounting steps in. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need approval for an entertainment expense for Zach...he took Warren from Morrow Yacht to a Red Sox game, and it exceeds our usual policy limit.”
I take the paper she hands me and sign it. “Thanks, Joss.”
“Anytime, Damon.” She throws me a smile over her shoulder as she leaves.
“My, my, you appear to be quite pope-ulah, Mr. Cavanaugh.” Portia raises a dark eyebrow and folds her arms across her chest.
“Everybody’s nice to the boss,” I grin.
“Mmm, it’s more than that, love. Everybohdy fancies the boss.”
Is she including herself in that group? The door opens again, and Gloria sails in, all smiles seeing Portia and me sitting together.
“Well. What a striking-looking couple the two of you make.”
Oh Christ, Mother. Really? I’m cringing inside as I give Portia an apologetic glance.
She doesn’t seem fazed. “So sweet of you, Gloria, but I think it’s Damon and Delaney who are striking with their similar coloring.”
My mother smiles frostily. “Two blonds don’t make a right, dear.”
“That’s enough, Gloria.” My words are sharp, biting, surprising both my mother and me. But it’s a hell of a lot better than the fuck off which was ready to roll off my tongue.
Portia quickly stands up, smoothing her red skirt. “If you two will excuse me, I need to use the loo. Be back in just a few moments.”
After she’s out of the room, my mother fixes an icy glare on me and hisses. She looks like a cobra ready to strike, except more venomous. “I’ll thank you to respect me, Damon, especially in front of a foreign guest whom you are supposed to be building a relationship with.”
“And I’ll thank you to respect me as well, including my personal life. The only relationship I’m building with Portia is a business one. As you’re fully aware, I’m already involved with someone else.”
“You expect me to believe that Rosie the Riveter is your girlfriend? Dear God, Damon, how daft do you think I am?”
“Believe what you will. It doesn’t matter.”
“If you and Delaney are so involved—” (she makes air quotes) “—then why aren’t you living together? That’s what young couples seem to be doing today.”
I grab the first thing I can think of. “Her mother is religious. Almost a fanatic, actually, so we’re waiting on that.”
“How charming that you’re respecting her mother’s wishes but not the wishes of your own.” She studies me intently. “But you do spend the night together? Like a real couple would?”
Why the fuck is she asking this? Is she having me followed? “Jesus, Mother. Not that it’s any of your concern, but of course we do.”
She lowers her voice to a menacing whisper. “You are an absolute fool if you don’t put the business first. The business always comes before anything else. Always.”
My mother is holding herself rigid, but I can see her earrings tremble as she stands in front of me. There are tears of rage in her eyes, threatening to spill over.
I’ve never seen her like this. Ever. My jaw drops, and she doesn’t like that she’s shocked me. I’m about to speak when she turns abruptly and leaves, taking my unanswered questions with her.