Strawberry Kisses

by Phavy Prieto

  Damian was perfect! Fucking perfect!

  "You were saying?" I said looking at Steven. "In case you didn't know, I'm engaged," I added showing the huge precious stone I was wearing on my finger.

  "Come on, we both know it's a farce!" he said staring at me.

  I swear, if Nerea said anything to him, I'll kill her!

  She had probably talked about it with Mathews, and he in turn communicated it to the idiot in front of me.

  "Sure. A farce to the point of getting married on the first Saturday of May," I said so convinced that I too believed it. "In case you had any doubts, I just did Nerea a favour when I agreed to go out to dinner with you."

  "I suppose then we will go for the tedious and extremely long process," he said, standing up with an angry expression. Well, at that point Steven had just one thing to do: to haul his ass out of my office. I was also aware that the more he was pissed off, the longer and more unpleasant the audit was going to be.

  "What do you want to make the audit short?" I asked thinking that, if it was a lunch, a dinner or even a date, I could think about it just for the peace of mind.

  "Come to bed with me," he said with such coldness that I shivered with disgust. Did he really dare say that? Did he have the nerve to blackmail me for sex? "It shouldn’t be a big effort. I know that you want me. I knew it since the first night we met. Even if you say that you accepted that date to do Nerea a favour, I know that deep down you like me, that you are dying to get into my bed and that all those stories with your boss are just an excuse to make me beg. "

  "Look, Steven, you have no future with me. I find you blander than a glass of water. The right thing to do would be to tell you to fuck off. I’m not surprised that no woman approaches you, because you scare them: first with your appearance and then with your way of being arrogant. In your favour I can say that you have more self-esteem than all the Victoria's Secret models combined. Now, if you don't mind, get out of my office and take all the time you want to do the audit. In the meantime I will sue you for extortion and sexual harassment."

  From his livid face I could tell he didn’t expect that outcome.

  As soon as he left my office, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. It took me several seconds to realize that the office telephone was ringing.

  "Maria Acosta's office," I said in a serious and formal tone.

  "How professional you sound! I didn't expect you to answer like that."

  "Damian?" I asked surprised. He usually showed up in my office or called me on my cell phone.

  "I called you on your cell phone, but I guess it was on silent mode, because you didn't answer my messages."

  "Yes, er... I haven’t seen them yet. I've been busy with an audit manager in my office," I said without giving any details.

  "Right. I was informed that he wasn’t expected. Treat that client well, he's too important for the company. Give him all the documents he asks for and make sure he's satisfied."

  Seriously? Well, too late. Luckily he couldn't see my annoyed face.

  "Sure," I replied. I closed my eyes and hoped that my last threat would bring that foolish and misogynistic snob to his senses. Otherwise I would really sue him.

  "That’s my girl!" he answered happily. I sighed hoping not to fail. After all, there was nothing to fear, right? Everything was in order and the numbers would add up perfectly. "Did you get the flowers?" he asked changing the subject.

  "Yes, they are beautiful," I replied, looking at the bouquet and smelling the flowers.

  "But they're not your favorite," he whispered resignedly.

  "No, they’re not," I replied with a hint of a smile and restraining myself from telling him what my favorite flowers were.

  "Too bad. I thought I would finally get it right," he said with more enthusiasm. As I was sipping my coffee, he added, "I called you because my mother has found several places for our wedding reception and we should go and see them this week. We are already a bit late, considering that they are usually booked a year in advance, and there are only eight months left."

  Suddenly I began to cough uncontrollably because, in an attempt not to spit out the coffee, I swallowed it at the risk of choking.

  "Do we need to book now?" I asked almost out of breath.

  "Well, if we want the invitations to reach the guests on time, we need to know where the reception will be held as soon as possible. The church is not a problem: my family has a mansion where all the Devoirs got married, but we have to confirm the reception. You have my mother's number just in case. She will send you some photos of the venues she contacted."

  It's all happening so fast that I can't digest it and at the same time think it's not going to happen.

  "Damian, don't you think we're going a little too far..."

  "You're my fiancée," he warned me, interrupting me. "Don't forget, Maria, you're going to marry me."

  I was silent. What was I supposed to answer? I had run out of arguments and, above all, I wanted it to be true.

  "Tell your mother I'll give her an answer today," I replied, because I knew she would wait for my answer.

  "See you at six. Remember, not a minute longer," he added before hanging up.

  I didn't even have the time to get my cell phone out of my bag when Ingrid knocked on the door.

  "Please, tell me it's not bad news!" I exclaimed, given the expression on her face.

  "Mr. Spooner has demanded that an office is made available to him immediately and has requested all the Enterprise reports for the last five years. Five years!" she yelled as if she couldn’t believe it.

  In the end it was true that it was going to be a long and tedious process. Well, be prepared for what lies ahead, you piece of shit.

  "Perfect. Give him the smallest room we have, without windows, and set up a folding table with an uncomfortable chair," I said looking at my nails. "Ah, make sure no one works on Enterprise while he's here. I won't make it easy for him if his only intention is to screw us. One last thing: make sure he receives reports exclusively from that account."

  "You don't like Mr. Spooner?" she asked a little surprised.

  "Can’t you tell?" I said ironically. "Let's say I would prefer to be skinned rather than see him again," I replied without giving it too much importance. "Just five minutes ago he threatened to make this audit hell if I didn't sleep with him."

  "No!" Ingrid exclaimed dumbfounded. "What a pig! Do you want me to call security to kick him out?"

  That was a viable option.

  "It wouldn't be a bad option. But we can't afford to lose this client. However, I would be grateful if you didn't tell Damian anything about this. I prefer not to involve him."

  "As you prefer, Maria. Although I think you should inform him: after all, he's the one who runs the company and is also your fiancée."

  She was right. I should tell him, but I believed that I could handle that situation alone and get out of it unharmed.

  "I'll think about it," I told her to keep her calm.

  Fortunately, the rest of the morning went by without any further setbacks.

  At lunchtime I looked at all the places that Damian's mother had chosen to visit: each one was more beautiful than the other. I loved the one with a greenhouse with huge windows, perfect for a starry night. Also, the decorations they used for the wedding celebrations were spectacular, and I knew right away that even if they showed me all the places in the world, I would not find anything better.

  However, I decided not to opt for it, because choosing the place would mean a drastic change between fiction and reality. Choosing the place for the reception would mean a breakup and cancellation of a wedding. And I didn't know if I was capable of facing it. I was going to accept to visit all the places during that week, let some time pass by without giving a definitive answer. Everything would remain a sweet memory, an anecdote made up of beautiful venues for a dream wedding that would never be celebrated.

  At six o'clock sharp Damian was leaning against the door jamb
, looking at me, his tie slightly untied and his jacket open, with his hair locks falling over his face.

  He exuded beauty, sensuality, masculinity. No doubt Damian was an Adonis from head to toe.

  "Ready?" he asked as I looked up.

  "Ready," I replied with a faint smile. I immediately got up from my chair, took the planner and walked towards the door.

  I felt the warmth of his hand on my waist, that thrilling sensation I would never get used to. And knowing that we were going to spend the rest of the evening and the night together only made my craving stronger.

  "Is everything alright?" he asked, placing a delicate kiss on my lips, so sweet that made me sigh.

  "Yes," I replied, looking him in the eye. I wanted to find out what he thought about all this and if it was as difficult for him as it was for me to pretend to be in a relationship that, in his case, he didn't really want.

  "It's probably just a game for him, a hobby," I convinced myself.

  "I'm glad to know you're not tired at all before the hard workout I'm going to put you through," he whispered into my ear as the elevator doors closed.

  Maybe I was mistaken, but I didn't get the feeling he was talking about sports.

  Chapter XX

  Damian surely had to have flaws, still unknown to me, but bragging was not one of them. Damned Adonis! No wonder he could flaunt those muscles: he was inexhaustible!

  "Fifteen more," he said as soon as the machine stopped.

  We had been training for two hours at the gym. There weren't many machines available, just the ones needed to keep one fit: a couple of treadmills, a stationary bike, a multi-gym, a couple of elliptical bikes, and my personal torture, a climb mill.

  "I can't take it anymore," I admitted exhausted.

  Until that moment I had been trying to resist not to look like a weakling who couldn’t take an hour of training, but damn, it seemed that that guy wanted to kill me and not make me exercise.

  "Do you really have so little stamina?" he asked with that perfect and seductive smile that, on that occasion, made me want to throw myself on the floor instead of his arms.

  "Little stamina?" I asked ironically. "I've been on this devil's machine for over an hour!" I yelled pointing at it.

  "One hour?" he said as if he was not aware of it. "I guess I lost track of time while looking at you."

  "Have you been staring at my butt for an hour?" I told him, not knowing whether to laugh at the situation or be pleased.

  "At least I was on a machine that pulls up my rear end nicely," I told myself.

  "I don’t know how I could last so long myself," he admitted, stopping the treadmill he was running on. With a jump he stood up in front of me to take me in his arms. "I love your butt, but it's not the best part of your body," he added staring at me.

  "It’s not?" I asked remembering how many squats I did at the gym over the course of my life to keep it fit and in its place.

  "No, it’s not," he said with his deep voice, giving me goose bumps and making me feel like the eighth wonder of the world. "You have a beautiful body that drives me crazy, but it’s your eyes that mesmerize me, with their beautiful and unique colour in which I want to lose myself every time I look at you."

  I didn’t need to hear more to fall prey to everything he wanted to do to me. I was so bewitched by him that if he wanted to use a pair of handcuffs and a whip at that moment, I would have let him.

  Think, Maria, think! Pull yourself together because the time to dive into reality will arrive soon, and it will be painful.

  At that point, I no longer worried about being hurt: I knew my heart was going to crack as soon as those bloody days were over.

  Luckily or unluckily, depending on the point of view, Damian was not the kind of person fond of whips, handcuffs or any sadomasochistic practices that people came up with to cope with their traumas. He made me fly to heaven with that primitive masculinity that had awakened my basic instincts.

  Even that night he made me yell with pure pleasure.

  I don't know what I'm going to do with my life when that divine sex is over. I might take a vow of chastity or shoot myself.

  Would Damian still be willing to have casual encounters after those two weeks? Maybe it was easier for him: he would simply turn the page in the blink of an eye. For me, on the contrary, it would be impossible to forget everything.

  I was having my morning coffee freshly made by Damian. He was distracted, looking at his cell phone and frowning. He was probably reading his work emails, the ones his assistant sent him early in the morning to organize his work day.

  "Didn't you tell me once that you had a tree in the middle of your living room?" I asked, suddenly remembering our date at the Italian restaurant.

  "Did I?" he asked faking a genuine smile.

  "You are a born liar," I said amused.

  "You can't blame me for longing to take you to bed and devour you," he replied with a shrug. "You are the temptation I can’t resist," he added putting his hands around my waist to drag me close to him and print a kiss on my neck. "By the way, I almost forgot. How about the audit guy? Is he satisfied with the reports?" he asked putting the phone down on the table.

  I had to bite my tongue.

  "I guess so since he didn't say anything. No news is good news," I replied, bringing the cup of coffee to my lips to avoid saying something inappropriate about that idiot.

  "I'm happy to hear that. He is an important client. But better not to talk about business at home. Don't forget we are going to visit one of the venues my mother chose for the wedding today."

  I didn't say "We are going a little too far" or "I feel terrible about lying to your mother this way" or "Don't you think we are crossing the line?" No, I limited myself to whispering a simple "Yes". The only thoughts that came to my mind were those of the last night of passion that had lasted until early morning, the reason for the dark circles under my eyes and my messy hair.

  As soon as I entered the office, a bouquet of lilies was waiting for me in a crystal vase. It was not necessary to ask my secretary who had sent them. I still couldn’t believe that Damian was going to give me a different bouquet of flowers every day until he guessed which ones were my favourite.

  Ingrid came to hand me the schedule of the day. When she left, I couldn't help but take the card to read what Damian had come up with this time. He was probably going to ask again if they were my favorite. Instead, it was something more personal, more intimate.

  “Thank you for our night of pleasure.”

  Was it just my imagination or could Damian be genuinely involved too?

  One should have a heart of stone to forget everything at once. Perhaps I took for granted that he couldn’t fall in love with me or that he didn’t consider me the woman of his life. Still he had to feel a certain degree of affection, attraction or desire to justify those passionate nights.

  "Can someone like Damian fall in love with someone like me?" I wondered looking at those flowers.

  At least we were having fun and I certainly couldn't say that our relationship was a torture to any of us, not only judging by our passionate encounters, but also by the rest of the time spent together.

  To my utter bewilderment, I spent the whole day without hearing any news from Steven, who seemed to be immersed in his audit process in that tiny office. I even felt sorry for that poor wretch who dared to make that indecent proposal.

  Should I pity him? Or was it the voice of my conscience that suggested that I had to do my best to make that audit go well? Otherwise I would have had a big problem. Before I could make up my mind about it, Damian showed up, leaning against the door jamb as usual, and invited me with a smile to leave the office together.

  As soon as we entered the beautiful venue, we saw Elisabeth who opened her arms to hug me with a big smile.

  "Great! I will feel even more guilty now," I thought as I received that hug under Damian's watchful eyes.

  "What do you think?" Elisabeth asked, after
giving her son an affectionate kiss on his cheek.

  Damian put his arm around my waist and was silent, looking at me.

  "What?" I asked when I saw the three of them staring at me: Damian, his mother and the manager of the venue.

  The place was nice and pleasant, like those in a design magazine, but in my opinion it lacked the charm to make it more welcoming.

  "You decide, honey."

  "Is it up to me to decide? If so, I'd get married tomorrow and I'd go naked as well," I thought.

  "It's nice," I answered, looking at the crystal chandeliers.

  "How many guests will there be approximately?" asked the manager.

  "I think around four hundred, without counting Maria's side," Elisabeth replied quickly. "So more or less five hundred people."

  Five hundred? Are they crazy? It's not a wedding, it's almost my whole village!

  "Many guests are linked to the interests of the company," Damian said.

  Why did he give me explanations, if the wedding and the reception would never take place?

  We looked at each other. It seemed that he didn't care about the location but was more concerned about my reaction or what I could say.

  "Yes, sure."

  Maybe he was just keeping an eye on me in case I made a mistake in our script.

  Then we visited the hall and the gardens. No one talked about costs. When you went to such luxurious places, you already knew what figures you had to stick to.

  "You were silent during the visit. Is something wrong?" he asked as soon as I got out of the shower to lie down on the sofa next to him. On our way home we dined at a restaurant with Elisabeth, since Damian's father was away on business.

  "No, why?" I asked, denying the truth.

  Wasn't it obvious how bad that situation made me feel? Not being able to talk about it was even worse.

  "Well, if you don't like the place, just say it. Tomorrow we are going to visit two other places, but I don't want you to feel embarrassed: I would like to know what you would love for such a special day."

  Did he have to be perfect even in that situation? Damn it! Why couldn't it be real? If it were, he wouldn't have behaved with such attention and gallantry.