Mister Big Stuff: A Single Mom Friends to Lovers Novel

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Mister Big Stuff: A Single Mom Friends to Lovers Novel Page 71

by Parker, Weston


  Delilah’s eyes moved across him as a smile touched the side of her mouth. "My stupid sister seems to think that I'm going to set you up again."

  "Again?" Ben's eyebrow lifted. "Were you the one that set him up with Bridget originally?"

  Damon chuckled and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Were they going to unlock the stories of his past? He was too tired to deal with much of anything.

  "Yes. The dumbest mistake of my life. I should have swiped him up for myself." She laughed and moved to Damon's side, pressing her shoulder against his. "We would make a good couple."

  "Would have. Past tense." He forced a smile and walked out into the lobby of the building. Ben and Delilah laughed and poked fun at him as they walked to the restaurant. He played into it a little, but stopped outside the restaurant and turned to face them. "All right, drop it. I don't want anyone here to feel inferior to either of you because we have a past together."

  "You have a past with Damon too?" Delilah laughed. "Have you seen him in a speedo?"

  Damon rolled his eyes and walked into the restaurant. The hostess ushered him to the back room where the rest of his staff were. Philip was seated next to Beth and leaning over, showing her something on the menu, but they were entirely too close for Damon's comfort.

  She laughed and turned her face towards Philip's to say something, putting them awkwardly close, intimately so. The widening of her eyes said that she realized it, and she moved back.

  Damon cleared his throat and smiled. "Thanks for all the hard work. Bethany, can I see you for a minute?"

  "Of course." She stood up as her face lost color.

  Unbelievable. Something was going on between the two of them. Damon had taken a chance on hiring this little shit back, much to his detriment, obviously.

  He moved through the restaurant and walked out into the cool night air as she stopped beside him.

  "Is this a good place for dinner? I should think-"

  He turned and grabbed her arm as he leaned down to get in her face. Her tone was cocky, shitty, full of condemnation.

  "What are you doing right now? Do you want this to end? If you do, fucking say so, and I'll save us the pleasure of ripping each other apart from across the room."

  She jerked her arm from him and slapped him. Hard. "Fuck you for that. You know that I love you. You're the villain here. Not me."

  He rubbed his cheek and glanced around. "Right. I'm the one that lied. The one that went somewhere with someone last night and left you sleeping on the couch. Yeah, I forgot. That was me."

  "If I don't have my legs open or a calculator in my hand, I'm nothing to you but a puppet on a string." She took a step back toward the restaurant. "And I didn't lie. You did."

  "Your stomach still hurting?" Anger burned through him as he clenched his fists and tried hard to pull himself back from pressing her to the side of the restaurant and reminding her who was in charge. It would do no good. She didn't want him anymore. That much was obvious.

  "Is anyone else from Bridget's family going to start working here? I mean, the more the fucking merrier."

  "Grow up, Beth." He turned and walked back toward the office.

  "Don't leave me standing here."

  He ignored her and lifted his eyes to the sky as his heart ripped in two and tears burned his gaze. She could have her freedom and her future. He would take the role Charlie had advised him to. Mentor. Friend. Big Brother.

  He could be anything she needed him to be and nothing else.

  Chapter 38

  Bethany

  "Everything okay?" Philip glanced up as Bethany took her place beside him.

  "Yeah, I think so." She picked up her menu and forced herself into a place of calm that didn't exist. She'd been through enough shitty situations as a teenager to know how to cover her tracks emotionally. Damon's denial of her concerns over Delilah showed where he was far too clearly.

  The only question was whether there was hope for a change of heart in either of them. A depression that she couldn't imagine surviving began to stir deep in her chest. As sad and stupid as it seemed, she couldn't shake the desire to have him one more time. The strong emotions they shared when making love were enough to leave her panting and shaken. It was a little like hitting a perfect drug and riding the high as long as she could. He was addictive in ways she'd never imagined possible.

  "You don't look like everything is okay." Philip glanced around and pressed his shoulder to hers. "You and the big guy fighting?"

  "Always," she mumbled and picked up her glass of tea. Delilah stood across the room talking with Ben and Patrick. Several associates across the table laughed loudly, and the room seemed too big all of a sudden. "I can't do this."

  Bethany got up and walked languidly toward the front of the restaurant as if it were simply time to leave for the night. Being dramatic and making herself the center of conversation at the office the next day wasn't happening. One more egg in her basket and she was liable to crack.

  She waved down a cab as Philip jogged up beside her.

  "I'll go with you." He touched her back and offered her a kind smile as he opened the door with his free hand. "You want to head back to the hotel or go grab a sandwich and check out this skate park I heard about?"

  "I don't know." She got into the cab and leaned back, ignoring the stale scent of cigarettes and breath mints.

  "Where to, kiddos?" The older guy in the front seat glanced over his shoulder.

  "Over to the skate park near downtown?" Philip asked, his tone hopeful.

  "It's going to rain a little tonight. You guys will get wet."

  "It's all good. We're not made of sugar; we won't melt." He laughed and sat back in the seat before turning his attention toward her. "It's going to be fine. I promise."

  "Is it?" She turned her head a little, pressing her cheek against the seat and studying him. "He's eight years older than me, my boss's boss's boss, and my stepbrother. Tell me how this is going to work out." She let her eyes move across Philip's boyish features. Why couldn't she have fallen for someone like him? The relationship would have been simple. Easy.

  "Do you love him?" The look in Philip's eye said he was hoping for a no. She shouldn't have been there with him.

  "Yes. With all of my heart, but it doesn't seem like that's enough. There are just too many differences between us." She sighed and turned to stare out the front window of the cab. "I need to figure out what I'm going to do and then just do it. Sitting on the fence is killing me."

  "Are we talking about being with him or not? Is that the choice you're talking about?"

  "Yeah." She crossed her arms over her chest as the cab came to a stop.

  "Here we go, guys. That deli over there has the best turkey on rye of any place in the whole damn city. You'll thank me if you try it." The cabbie turned around, and Philip paid him.

  Bethany didn't have the energy to combat him on paying for the cab. They would be charging it anyway. Chances are that Damon would see the date and time and question the shit out of Philip over what he was up to during the team dinner.

  Same thing as you are. Running.

  They got out of the car as Bethany's phone buzzed in her pocket. Matt.

  "I need to get this." She paused outside of the deli.

  "Damon?"

  "No, my brother. Can you just get me something small? My stomach is a little jacked up from everything."

  "Sure. We can share something. You picky?" He opened the door and studied her.

  "No. Thanks." She turned and walked to a bench that sat near the road and dropped down onto it before answering Matt's call. "Hey. Where are you?"

  "I'm headed to meet with Erica, and then I'm taking the red-eye. Damon said you were flying back with him. Is that right?"

  "Yeah, I guess." She shrugged as if Matt could see her. "I'll be fine. What are you meeting with Erica about? Working at McKenzie and Bryant?"

  "Supposedly. Probably just a plot to get me alone and lick the clothes f
rom my body."

  "That's almost hot, but terribly awkward all at the same time. Can you actually lick the clothes from someone?"

  Matt had a way of making her feel normal no matter what he was up to. She was more than grateful for the reprieve for the moment.

  He laughed. "So maybe I'm being dramatic, but only a little."

  "Well, be safe, and I guess I'll see you when I get back home next week."

  "All right. You and Damon working through things?"

  Hopefully Matt wasn't as sensitive to lying as Damon was. Otherwise, she'd have been in trouble.

  "Yep. We're good."

  ***

  The facade she held on to tightly through her friend-date with Philip crumbled into a million pieces when she got back to the room and found Damon's stuff gone. She cried throughout the night at the unfairness of life. She couldn't seem to catch a break no matter what she did, and each one that appeared to be something great turned into ashes in her hands.

  After a long, hot shower the next morning, she rolled her hair into a tight bun and dressed conservatively for her last day in the Seattle office. She was catching a flight later that night and had called to move it up to the one before their scheduled flight just to make sure she didn't have to sit next to Damon. She wasn't even sure he would be pissed about her actions. He might be happy to have a break too.

  She twirled her ring around her finger as the cabbie drove her to Zarpeth's corporate office, her thoughts a million miles from the present.

  The memory of Damon gripping her hand tightly as he told their families that she was his woman and they could all jump off a cliff if they didn't like it ran through her mind over and over. What had changed in the last week or so? The trip to Jamaica was wonderful, relaxing and so far beyond stimulating. She had a fucking ring on her finger to prove that something did exist between them. Where the hell was it now?

  She pulled the ring off and tucked it into her bag as the cab driver pulled the car up to the curb. She paid and got out, jogging toward the building as the rain picked up. It didn't matter so much with her hair up, but looking like a drowned rat was out seeing that Damon was most likely still pissed at her, and Delilah would show up looking like a million dollars.

  Bethany took the elevator up to the top floor and checked her watch, cursing under her breath for being an hour late. She just couldn't seem to get herself motivated to get up and pack before heading out. It was no matter. No one would give her hell for it, or they hadn't thus far.

  She walked into the audit room and set her bag down as Philip glanced up and smiled.

  "Morning. I like your hair like that." He wagged his eyebrows playfully as she chuckled.

  "It rains too much here for me to do anything else with it." She sat down and turned as Damon's voice filled the hall. It was quickly accompanied by Delilah's.

  "Tie down the loose ends and plan for the trip Friday to Florida." His tone was deadpan. He was in asshole-boss mode.

  "Will do. I'm going to fly back to Dallas with you tonight. That all right?" Delilah had an almost flirty sound to her tone.

  "Yeah. That sounds good. I think Bethany is the only other one going back with us." They stopped by the door, and Bethany glanced up.

  "I'm taking an earlier flight. There is a storm coming in at ten when we were leaving. You might want to adjust your time too." She shrugged and glanced back down, typing out nothingness on her computer.

  "Right." Damon turned and walked out of the office.

  "You're late. Don't make a habit of it. The team starts working at seven every morning. Do you want to be early? Great. Don't be late." Delilah put her hands on her hips as Bethany looked up and realized the Senior Manager was addressing her.

  "Oh, of course. I had a rough-"

  "I don't care what you had. You're no more special than anyone else. Be here on time, or you'll not be invited back to my team." She tilted her head to the side.

  "Excuse me?" Bethany pushed her hair back and stood up as Philip reached over and grabbed her wrist.

  "Hey. Just nod and say okay." He awarded her a tight smile.

  "Is there a problem with me requesting you to be here on time?" Delilah laughed and looked around the room.

  Bethany glanced around as she pulled her hand from Philip and moved around toward the door. The intention was to walk to get a cup of coffee and get out of the tense situation, thereby letting it die.

  "Nope. It was the way you did it." Bethany pinned the other woman with a hard stare and walked past her into the hall.

  Delilah snorted and followed behind her, continuing the convo. "Is there something I should know, Bethany? Do you have special privileges that I wasn't told about?"

  "Not sure what you're talking about." Bethany pulled a plastic cup from the holder near the coffee pot. "Don't talk down to me, and we'll be fine."

  "Show up on time, and I won't talk to you at all." The blond wasn't nearly as sweet as she'd appeared a few days back. Interesting.

  "It was one day." Bethany glanced over her shoulder and decided to pull back a little. There was no reason to give the bitch ammo to make life miserable.

  "Two days, and you're on the docket for going to Florida with Damon and me on Friday this week. You're the only intern going, so I would advise you to be on time and impress both of us."

  "Or what?" Bethany pursed her lips.

  "Or you won't work here anymore."

  Bethany snorted. "I'm sure my father would love that."

  "I'm not sure who your daddy is, but this is the real world. You make your own name, or you get stomped on. Your father might have gotten you the job, but he can't keep it for you."

  "My dad is Kent Bryant. I'm pretty sure I'm safe here." Bethany scrunched up her features as she passed by the bitch. "Breath mints will help with that smell."

  "What?" The angry sound of Delilah huffing in the relationship that Bethany had connections that even she didn't have was far more pleasurable than it should have been, even if it was incredibly immature.

  Bethany walked down to Damon's open door and took a sip of her coffee as she leaned against the doorframe. "So your new Senior Manager has it out for me. I'm thinking someone who hated my guts assigned me to the same job as her. What do you think?"

  "That you're overreacting. Auditing is hard work, and people get very little sleep. Delilah is a great manager. You'll learn to like her when you realize that she's got six years of experience on you." Damon glanced up and gave her a tight stare.

  "Did you get another room last night?" She wrapped her free arm around her waist as her heart quivered. So much promise lay between them, and it was breaking into far too many pieces to repair in time.

  "I did. Did you expect something else? I'm not sleeping on another couch."

  "I would have let you into my bed."

  "Fuck buddies now?" He chuckled, but the sound fell flat. "No thanks."

  "Wow." She glanced down at the floor. "I get that you and I are having trouble, but I want off this assignment. Your ex lover's sister is a bitch, and she's got her eye set on making sure I know it."

  "You're being a child." He looked back down at his computer. "This team is built of the best staff I have, you included. You were the promised brilliance I needed at the intern and associate level. Are you saying that you aren't brilliant now?"

  He wouldn't even look at her.

  "I'm saying that I'm not going to put up with her treating me like shit."

  "Are you going to pop her in the nose?" He glanced up before standing.

  "Awesome. Fuck you too."

  "Hey. Not everything is about you. Remember that."

  "Oh, I got it. Nothing is about me. See you in Dallas. Maybe." She turned and tossed her coffee in the trash before packing up and walking out. Kent could take care of the Delilah situation and get her on another assignment, or she'd quit. There had been too many times in her past when life handed her a lemon and forced the fucker down her throat.

  This wasn't g
oing to be one of them.

  Chapter 39

  Three days later

  Damon

  A growl left him as he paced in front of his fireplace, his house quiet and completely void of warmth. Three days. Three fucking days and nothing from her. Not a peep.

  What would be so hard about them apologizing and getting back together? Didn't people in love do just that? You fucked up; you got back together. What the hell? Why was it so different with them? It couldn't be. Things had to work out, and yet they weren't. Not in the slightest.

  Delilah had hit on him the entire way back to Dallas, leaving him sick. He didn't want another woman. He wanted his woman. No matter how many sappy-ass stories the pretty blond beside him told, or how hard she worked to remind him how close they'd been as kids, it didn't matter. She wasn't Bethany.

  He worked on Tuesday to get Beth off the job for Zarpeth, but his dad killed the idea. He'd spoken with Bethany, and they'd worked out the issue. Kent met with Delilah the day after and talked through her management style. All of it pissed off Damon. It was like being cut from the loop after managing it effectively for the last few years alongside his dad.

  It was another strike against the beautiful girl who had his heart. Some part of him was beyond ready to offer her the world if she'd just relent and help him fix things, but it wasn't going to happen. His pride wouldn't allow it.

  He dropped down on the couch and leaned back, needing so fucking bad to call her and force her to come over. If he could make love to her, then she could see how much he wanted things to be right between them. A groan left him as images flew by his closed eyes. Them fucking against the wall, on his kitchen table, the bathroom of the plane.

  "God, I miss you so much, Beth." He pressed his palms to his eyes as delicious tendrils of pleasure resurrected in his stomach and forced his body to wake up. Just another night. She would see him again and not the dick head he was forced to play thanks to the overwhelming stress in his life to keep everything afloat. His resolve to be anything but her man was slipping fast, nauseatingly so.

 

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