She didn't think to stop by her office before going to his, her focus simply on setting things straight between them. She needed to know if she was the girl Ben mentioned or if Damon was playing a bigger game than even she had even imagined.

Bethany walked off the elevator as Linda, his receptionist, looked up and smiled. Bethany's eyes averted toward Damon's office as the door opened and a pretty blonde she had seen before walked out. The girl waved and smiled to Linda as she fixed the smudge of her lipstick on her bottom lip. Her clothes were a little disheveled or appeared to be.

Stopping cold in her tracks, Bethany's eyes followed the woman, who seemed out of place in the middle of their office. Her heels were a little too high, her dress a little too red.

This had to be the other woman.

Linda said something, but Bethany didn't hear her as she turned and walked to Damon's office. She reached out and pushed the door open, slamming it behind her.

Damon turned around, his hands on his tie as if he were just putting it back on.

"Need something, Beth?" He tilted his head as he moved toward her.

"Who was that?" She hated the accusation in her voice, the sadness that permeated the edges of her words.

"Who was who?" He stopped in front of her and pinned her with the dominance of his stare. "Who was that woman?"

"Yes."

"First, you tell me who that boy was that you were having lunch with." He took a step toward her, his demeanor shifting from very professional to aggressive. Bethany took a step back, reaching out and pressing her fingers to his chest as he continued to stalk toward her, his face shaded a light pink.

"You know who that was. I'm not here to play your fucked-up games."

"Oh, but aren't you? You brought that boy up here to my cafeteria for a reason, right? Who is he?"

"I'm not answering that." She hit the wall behind her, a soft sound of surprise leaving her lips. He leaned menacingly over the top of her.

"Who the fuck is he to you? I know who the punk ass is. What does he mean to you? I'm starting to think you're right ... you are playing a game, but I'm not."

"Bullshit. He's nothing more than a friend."

"Why here? What purpose did you have in bringing him here? Did you want me to see you two together? Is that what you wanted?"

"No. I mean yes ... Fuck, I don't know." She pushed at his chest, but he only crowded her more. The heat rolling off of him was almost stifling, the dark press of his gaze making her want to pant for air. This was too much. He was overwhelming.

"Get out of my office, and when you grow up, come back." He started to move as she reached out and grabbed tightly onto his jacket, pulling him back flush against her. His hand slid up the wall behind her as he pressed his hips forward, reminding her quickly how well they fit together.

"No. Who was the woman? I'm not leaving here until you tell me."

"She's a client, Beth. I don't fuck our clients."

"Just your interns?" Beth pushed at him as she moved from the wall.

"I gave you what you wanted. I can't help that your feelings have changed." He shrugged, his face expressionless.

"And yours haven't?" she asked as tears slipped against her gaze. The world blurred, and she hated him for making her feel two inches tall again.

"Wait, let me make sure I have the facts straight." His voice rose another octave as she wiped at her tears. The woman who left the office was far more than a client. By the shifting of her clothes and the adjusting of her lipstick that much was apparent.

"Stop." Bethany moved toward the door, not wanting him to leave her with the guilt that belonged to him. "If you were seeing someone, you should have said something. I know you're good being a whore, but I'm not."

"You fuck me on a plane yesterday, leave me a note when I ask you to spend time with me. You bring Philip to my place of business and rub him in my face, and then you come into my office accusing me of what? Sleeping with Mrs. Finnegan? Is that what you're accusing me of?"

Bethany took a shallow breath and closed her eyes. "I'm leaving. I have to be at school."

"Yeah, you do that." The side of his beautiful mouth lifted as Bethany opened her eyes. His expression was filled with hurt, something not quite right about the conversation.

"Damon."

"No. You've said your piece. Go about your business, and keep wondering if the color of her lips is pressed on my skin, Beth. I know what you're thinking, but you know what? You. Don't. Know. Shit. About. Me." He walked to his desk and picked up the phone, turning his back to her and barking out instructions to someone, most likely Linda.

Bethany stood there for a few minutes, her heart shattering over and over again in her chest. He was right. She didn't know much about him, but what she did know she didn't like very much at all.

She walked quickly out of his office, holding back the torrential flood of tears until she slipped into her office. She closed the door, turning and gasping at the enormous vase of red roses. There had to be close to fifty squeezed tightly together. The office smelled blissful.

Walking toward the flowers, she let her tears fall. Most likely from Kent or Philip. Someone who understood that she was a good person, an intelligent woman and a force to be reckoned with. She plucked the card and sat down at her desk, the need for them to be from Damon crashing into her.

She couldn't open the card just yet. She let her head drop, her chin pressing against her chest as she lifted her free hand to her face to catch some of the wetness that fell from her eyes.

How painful his continued rejection of her was. He was confident and assured, mature and locked into a successful life. She was a simple girl looking for the next exit on the road from adolescence. He didn't get it. He didn't understand her and the need she had to be loved, to be adored and treasured.

It was over between them. Simple, and yet so damn hard to convince herself of.

She opened the card and let her eyes scan over the words, the world stopping for a moment.

Beth,

You're right. I'm scared. I've not let anyone in my heart, in my life—ever. I have a lot to work through, but if you're willing to be patient with me, to be true to me ... I'll try. I want you to be mine first, and then we will work on me being yours.

Take a chance with me?

~ D

"Fuck," she whispered, another round of tears dropping from her eyes. If she hadn’t been branded his before, she was now. She reached for her phone and called his office, the call shifting her to Linda.

"Is he there?" Bethany asked.

"No, he left and said not to bother him for the rest of the day. Sorry, kiddo."

Bethany hung up and texted him.

Bethany: I'm sorry. I shouldn't have invited Philip. I shouldn't have accused you of sleeping with the client. I'm just lost in this, Damon. I'm lost in you, and I feel like I'm the only one waiting to be left with nothing, to be made a fool of.

His text took a few minutes, but relief flooded her when she received it.

Damon: I don't want your apologies. Save them for someone else. I'll make my offer once, and if you don't want it, then we're done. Tonight. My place. Leave your fears, your accusations and your panties somewhere else. They aren't welcome here. Brave enough, Beth?

She texted back one word, her world crashing in around her with need for the man that left her breathless, the one that dragged her into depravity and could possibly be the most important thing in her life at present.

Bethany: Yes.