126 Chapter 129
Chapter 129 – The Boyfriend Perk and a Bold Invitation
My phone buzzed early the next morning, Damien’s name flashing across the screen. I answered with a groan, my head still pounding from last night’s excesses.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he said, his voice irritatingly chipper.
“What’s good about it?” I mumbled, pulling the blanket over my head. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
“Hangover? That bad?”
“The worst. And it’s your fault.”
His laugh was gentle. “My fault again? How so this time?”
“You enabled my gambling addiction by sending more chips,” I said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably. “I lost those too, by the way.”
“I’m sorry I missed our first official date,” he said, his voice turning serious. “That business emergency couldn’t wait.”
I sat up, wincing at the movement. “It’s fine. You’ve got a company to run.”
“Not fine. I want to make it up to you. Let me send over something for your losses.”
“Damien, no. You already replaced what I lost once.”
“And then you lost it again,” he teased. “Consider it my contribution to your educational experience.”
Before I could protest further, he continued, “I’ve sent five thousand to your account. Use it for whatever you want.”
“Five thousand dollars?” I squeaked. “That’s way more than I lost!”
“Interest,” he replied simply. “Now, dinner tonight?”
I groaned, suddenly remembering my schedule. “I can’t. The Milan presentation prep is killing me. I’ll be at the office until midnight.”
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“Tomorrow then?”
“Still swamped. I’m so sorry.”
He sighed, but there was no anger in it. “I miss you, Hazel.”
His words made my heart flutter despite my hangover. “I miss you too,”
After we hung up, I dragged myself to the shower. By the time I reached the office, the payment notification had already appeared on my phone. Five thousand dollars, just like that. What was pocket change to Damien Sterling would cover my rent for months.
Victoria texted me around lunchtime: *So your boyfriend’s sending you money now? Sugar daddy vibes! *
I nearly choked on my coffee. *How do you know about that?*
*I was with
with you when you checked your phone, dummy. Spill!*
*It’s just to cover my gambling losses*, I texted back.
*Five grand for two thousand in losses? Girl, he’s SPRUNG.*
I couldn’t help smiling, though her words made me uncomfortable too. I wasn’t with Damien for his money. I didn’t want to be that girl.
The next three days passed in a blur of fabric swatches, design revisions, and endless meetings. Each night, Damien would call, never pressuring me about my busy schedule but making it clear he was eager to see me.
On Thursday afternoon, I was deep in concentration over a troublesome design when
door. my assistant knocked on my
“Ms. Ashworth? You have a visitor.”
I didn’t look up.
“Tell them to make an appointment. I’m swamped.”
“I think you’ll want to see this one,” she insisted, her voice oddly breathless.
When I finally glanced up, Damien was standing in my doorway, looking devastating in a charcoal suit that emphasized his broad shoulders. He carried a small gift bag and wore a mischievous smile that made my heart race.
“Surprise,” he said simply.
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I stood up so quickly my chair rolled backward. “Damien! What are you doing here?
“If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed…” He entered, closing the door behind him.
“You can’t just ambush me at work,” I protested weakly, though I couldn’t stop smiling
“Can’t I?” He approached my desk, setting down the gift bag. “It’s been four days, Hazel. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me”
I sighed, guilt washing over me. “I’m sorry. This project is just ”
“Important. I know.” He walked around the desk until he stood directly in front of me. “I understand busy, remember? I run several companies”
His closeness was making it hard to think. “Right.”
“I just wanted to see you for five minutes.” His eyes traced over my face as if memorizing it. “And to give you this.”
He handed me the bag. Inside was a beautiful fountain pen in a velvet case.
“For signing all those important documents,” he explained. “I noticed you use a regular ballpoint.”
The thoughtfulness of the gift touched me. “Thank you.
It’s perfect.”
He smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Now, I believe I’m owed something.”
“Owed?” I raised an eyebrow.
“A boyfriend perk.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “One kiss, and I’ll leave you to your
work.”
I glanced nervously at the door. “Damien, my entire team is out there.”
“Then they’ll all know you have excellent taste in men.”
Despite my embarrassment, I laughed. “You’re impossible.”
“Just one,” he coaxed, his voice dropping to that rich timber that made my knees weak.
I sighed dramatically but stepped closer. “Fine. One kiss.”
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I meant to give him a quick peck, but the moment my lips touched his, his hand came up to cradle my face. The kiss deepened, and I found myself melting against him, forgetting where we were until a knock at the door made me jump back.
“Ms. Ashworth? The fabric samples you requested are here,” my assistant called through the door.
My face burning, I called back, “Just a minute!”
Damien looked entirely too pleased with himself. “Dinner tonight? I won’t take no for
an answer.”
I looked at my cluttered desk, then back at his hopeful expression. “I suppose I could
use a break.”
“Excellent. I’ll wait while you wrap things up.”
Twenty minutes later, we stepped into the elevator. Mr. Vance, head of our marketing department, slipped in just before the doors closed.
“Ms. Ashworth,” he nodded politely, then turned to Damien with a strange smile. “Mr. Sterling. Congratulations on your recent acquisition.”
Damien merely nodded, his face unreadable. I frowned slightly, wondering what acquisition they were talking about. Before I could ask, the elevator stopped at the parking level.
As we stepped out, Damien reached for my hand, but I automatically pulled away, a reflex from years of keeping my personal life separate from work.
In the car, an awkward silence fell until Damien asked, “You think highly of Mr. Vance?”
“He’s brilliant at marketing,” I replied, confused by the question. “Why?”
“You pulled your hand away when he saw us.”
I turned to look at him, surprised by the faint note of insecurity in his voice. “It wasn’t about him. I just… I’ve always kept my personal life separate from work. Professional boundaries.”
His expression softened. “I see.”
“Are you actually jealous of Mr. Vance?” I asked incredulously. “The man is fifty and
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happily married!”
“Not jealous,” he corrected. “Just… I don’t like feeling like you’re ashamed to be seen
with me.”
I reached over and took his hand. “I could never be ashamed of you. If anything, it’s the opposite.”
“What do you mean?”
I hesitated, then decided to be honest. “Sometimes I wonder why someone like you would want someone like me.”
His fingers tightened around mine. “Someone like me?”
“You know what I mean. You’re Damien Sterling. I’m just… me.”
He pulled the car over so abruptly I gasped. Turning to face me fully, he cupped my face in his hands.
“Listen to me, Hazel Ashworth. There is no ‘just‘ about you. You’re extraordinary. Talented. Beautiful. Kind. Strong. If anything, I’m the one wondering how I got so
lucky.”
His words made my throat tight with emotion. “You really mean that?”
“Every word.” He leaned forward to kiss me softly. “Now, shall we continue to dinner, or would you like me to list more of your admirable qualities right here?”
I laughed, tension broken. “Dinner sounds good.”
After a wonderful meal, we took a walk along the riverside promenade. This time, when he reached for my hand, I held on tightly, not caring who saw us.
Later, as Damien drove me home, guilt gnawed at me. He’d been so patient with my busy schedule, so understanding about my work boundaries. I’d kept him at arm’s length while he’d done nothing but support me.
When we reached my building, he walked me to my door as always. But instead of saying goodnight, I found myself saying words I hadn’t planned.
“You… want to come up for a bit?”
His eyes widened slightly, surprise written across his face. “Can I?”
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The hopeful note in his voice made my heart flip. I nodded, suddenly nervous but
certain.
“I’d like that very much,” he said softly, his eyes never leaving mine.
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