by Leslie Kelly
Viv gasped. Damien growled. He’d never witnessed her being so damn rude to a perfect stranger, and he took a step forward. “Get out.”
“It’s all right, Damien,” Viv said, putting a hand on his arm. She lifted a hand to her face, as if pushing her hair out of her eyes, but he’d swear she was surreptitiously dashing away tears.
“No, it’s not. Go, Mother. I’ll meet you downstairs in an hour.”
Johanna seemed as if she wanted the floor to open up beneath her, Morgan flared her nostrils and his mother’s eyes turned that frigid gray that so perfectly matched her personality.
“Thirty minutes,” the woman said. She cast a disparaging glance at Viv. “You will allow me to talk to my son? Alone?”
“Of course,” Viv said, her mouth trembling only a tiny bit. “Nice to have met you.” She immediately left the circle, pushing past Johanna to head into the bedroom.
Damien was about to go after her, but first he took his mother by the arm and propelled her toward the door. “Go. Right now.”
She went, taking Morgan and Johanna with her. And Damien followed Viv, torn between fury and concern.
He had a moment’s panic when he walked into the bedroom and found it empty, until he noticed the bathroom door was shut tight. He walked over to it, knocked once and tried the knob.
Locked.
“Viv? Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Please come out.”
“I’d rather be alone for a while.”
“In the bathroom? Come on, you can talk to me.”
The lock clicked, the knob turned, the door opened. He immediately saw the tears in her blue eyes and the way her lips trembled.
Damien pulled her to him, holding her tightly. “I’m so sorry. I did warn you Mother is a dinosaur, didn’t I?”
“Dinosaur? Well, she certainly seems cold-blooded enough.”
“I have no idea what the hell she’s doing here.”
“Rescuing you from the clutches of the evil, white-trash slut who’s got her hooks in you?”
He took her chin and lifted her face so she had to meet his eye. “Don’t ever say that again.”
She took a deep breath, exhaled and said, “Sorry.”
Damien knew she was a mess, and he wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with her and spend the whole day there. But he had to deal with his family first, or they’d just come knocking at the door again.
“I want to take a bath,” she told him. “While you go...”
“Yeah. I’ll go.” He brushed a kiss across her lips. “But I’ll be back soon. And they won’t.”
“All right,” she said, not smiling, her voice small, her mood strangely subdued. On any other day, Viv wouldn’t have let his mother hurt her. She’d have defended herself, been the feisty woman he’d fallen head over heels for. Today, though, had been the wrong day for her to have to deal with this bullshit.
He reached up and brushed a tear from her eye with the tips of his fingers.
“I’m sorry I’m so weepy,” she said. “I’m not used to being the damsel-in-distress type.”
He slid his thumb across her jaw. “I’ll be your white knight once in a while, if you’ll let me.”
Nodding, she curved her face into his hand and whispered, “That’s a deal.”
There was more to say. He wanted to tell her how he felt about her, even if he wasn’t entirely sure what to say. He could no longer try to pretend he wasn’t in love with her, but since he’d never said those words to anyone, or even known what to expect from the whole being-in-love experience, he had to consider it some more.
First, though, he had to get certain people out of his hair. Which was why he reluctantly got cleaned up, left Viv and went downstairs. Calling his mother on her cell, he told her to meet him in one of the restaurants, and was relieved to walk in and find her sitting there alone.
“Where’s Johanna?”
“She and Morgan are shopping,” his mother said, tilting her head to the side for him to kiss her cheek.
He silently declined that invitation and sat down opposite her. “What are you doing here?”
“Having brunch.”
“I meant in Virginia. Why did you come?”
She offered him a conciliatory smile and reached across the table to pat his hand, a completely unnatural gesture for her. “I was worried. I saw the stories on the news.”
“I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt.”
“Not physically.”
“Meaning?”
“Well, your reputation certainly was.” Her mask of pleasantness fell and she got to what he suspected was the real issue at hand. “Not to mention our stock.”
“Excuse me?”
“‘CEO of Black Star engaged in violent episode in one of his own hotels.’” She reached for her glass of sparkling water, her heavy gold-and-diamond bracelet clinking against the glass. “What in heaven’s name were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that a drunk, dangerous son of a bitch was attacking the woman I love.”
His mother dropped her glass. It slid from her fingertips, landing on the pristine white tablecloth, spilling water everywhere. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she hissed.
“Why is it ridiculous?”
“You can’t love her. She’s a complete nobody.”
“She’s everything to me.” Although he hadn’t entirely decided when he would ask her, or considered how she would respond, he added, “I intend to marry her.”
Sylvia lurched in her chair as if slapped. “You can’t do that. Damien. You must consider your family, the business—”
“You?”
“Yes.” She drew a diamond-bedecked hand to her chest. “You’re breaking my heart, wasting yourself on someone who’s beneath you. She’d only marry you for the money.”
“Like you did with Dad?”
Her hand dropped and his mother’s chin went up. “Yes. As I did with your father. And we all know how well that turned out.”
Surprised she’d actually admitted it, he shook his head, feeling sorry for his old man, who’d died so young, so unhappy. “Why didn’t you just let him go? You made each other miserable.”
She sneered. “Not always. We cared about each other once, as you imagine you do this girl. But let me assure you, it will never last.” Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. “And not just because of her. I actually feel a little sorry for her. You’re the one who will never be able to make a marriage based on love work.”
Damien flinched. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
She didn’t relent, leaning across the table, almost shaking as she finally told him what she really thought of him.
“The truth is, Damien, if you care about that girl, you would end it now. Because you will end up breaking her heart. You are just like your father—a lying, deceitful, heartless bastard.”
Damien folded his arms over his chest, wanting to instead throw his hands over his ears. He didn’t give a damn what she said about him, but his father was off-limits. His parents’ marriage hadn’t been happy, but he’d never fully understood why. And Dad’s awful, untimely death should certainly have wiped clean the slate of grievances his mother had carried.
“Don’t say those things about him.”
“Why not?” she said with a bitter laugh, this woman who’d given birth to him, who’d never shown him a moment’s warmth in his entire life. “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree. You’re incapable of love and fidelity. You are doomed to destroy anyone foolish enough to care about you.”
Damien was in shock. The bile directed at him from his own parent was so stunning, he could barely form a response. In the end, all he could mutter was “Why? Why do you hate me?”
She di
dn’t flinch, didn’t deny the accusation. No. Instead, her mouth opened then snapped shut, as if she was fighting some internal battle, trying to decide what to say.
Damien realized she was on the verge of admitting something important, something he suspected she’d been keeping from him for years. “Just say it, Mother,” he insisted, suddenly weary and wanting this done. “For once in your life, be honest with me.”
One more long moment. He couldn’t be sure what she was going to do, until she opened her mouth and began to speak.
In the end, she gave him exactly what he’d asked for.
The truth.
11
DAMIEN HAD SAID he would be gone for thirty minutes at most. It had now been two hours, and Viv was climbing the walls.
She’d showered and dressed, assuring herself everything was all right. Surely she wasn’t the only woman in the world who’d made a bad first impression on her lover’s family. There would be an opportunity to make up for it.
Or, hell, maybe there wouldn’t, if his mother really was the cold fish she seemed to be. But still, she’d give it her best shot, at least, if he wanted her to.
He would want her to, wouldn’t he?
True, he’d said from day one that he wasn’t the love-and-relationship sort. But she’d let herself forget that in recent days. With everything they’d shared—his tenderness, his warmth, his desire for her—surely he didn’t still consider her just a brief fling?
Or maybe he did. Maybe his mother convinced Damien that Viv was bad news—the worst thing that could ever happen to him—and he could be trying to figure out how to make a painless getaway.
Whenever she heard a noise, she feared it was a hotel employee coming up with a note demanding she vacate the premises.
“You’re being ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, trying to find something else to do.
She had food sent up. She called Lulu and filled her in on the whole story of what had happened. She even called her mom, certain her family would want hear her sounding healthy and much more relaxed than she’d been yesterday.
They’d talked about this weekend’s anniversary party, which Viv had almost forgotten about in all the excitement. She was scheduled to take a train up to Pennsylvania tomorrow afternoon. Although she hadn’t decided for sure, she was considering asking Damien to come with her.
But maybe that was too weird. Damn, she had no idea how to behave. He’d saved her life, he’d taken care of her...did that mean they were serious now? When not one word had been exchanged between them about what this relationship of theirs was all about, aside from sex?
She kept mulling it over until she heard the door to the penthouse opening. Her heart leaped and she sprang to her feet, spinning around, expecting to see Damien.
It wasn’t him. Instead, a maid stood there, offering her a weak smile and then gesturing to someone in the hall.
Sylvia walked into the room, handed the woman some cash and then shut the door once the housekeeper had left. Dressed in a designer pantsuit, wearing more jewelry than was technically tasteful for a weekday afternoon, the woman didn’t even pretend to smile or act social.
Viv watched her, bracing herself for what she suspected was going to be a very unpleasant scene.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence, and then Damien’s mother said, “Are you at least going to ask me to sit down?”
“Of course. Where’s Damien?”
“He’s in a boardroom downstairs, meeting with the corporate lawyers I brought with me. They’re trying to deal with this catastrophe.”
“Catastrophe?”
“Yes,” Sylvia said, sitting on the sofa. “You, dear.” Sylvia peered at Viv’s lip, which still had a small scab from the attack. “Tell me, do you take advantage of all the noble men who rescue you from abusive boyfriends?”
“I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but I was attacked by a former coworker. I had no personal relationship whatsoever with the man.”
“The incident at the press conference a few weeks ago would say differently,” Sylvia said with a shrug. “You had a lover’s quarrel then, too, right? Isn’t that why you slapped him?”
Viv couldn’t believe how the story was being spun. “Absolutely not. I have no idea who’s saying these things, but they are not true.”
“Well, whatever the truth, you’ve certainly managed to drag my family into your sordid nightmare. Do you have any idea how much you’ve cost us?”
Viv’s head was pounding now, a headache slamming into her from out of the blue. “No, I don’t.”
“Millions, dear,” the woman said, the words ground out from between clenched teeth. “After the news about our CEO brawling in the corridor of his own hotel, our stock plummeted.”
“Oh, my God,” she groaned.
“I hear the sporting world is investigating this situation with the player. He’s claiming he was traded because of a love triangle between the three of you.”
“That’s a lie.”
“He’s also threatening to sue, claiming Damien attacked him.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
Whoops. Sylvia obviously didn’t appreciate the language and she sneered in distaste.
“How can he possibly sue someone for stopping a crime?”
“Stranger things have happened. Damien could lose control of this team he cares so much about.”
That got her attention. “Why?”
“My son doesn’t own one hundred percent of the team, naturally. He has investors who aren’t happy about this negative press right before the first season. They could push him out.”
This couldn’t be happening. How was it even possible?
“Bad press is deadly to people in his position, don’t you understand? Of course, he’ll survive it, we all will. He just has to come home to Florida, get to work and stop, er, putting himself in ugly situations with inappropriate people.”
“Meaning me.”
She didn’t even try to soften the blow. “Yes. Meaning you.” Sylvia rose to leave. “If there is an ounce of decency in you, if you care about Damien, do the right thing. Take your sordid drama and get away from him. Frankly, he can’t afford it otherwise.”
Viv didn’t reply. What could she say? This woman—Damien’s mother—had just made herself Viv’s enemy. The relationship could never be fixed. Never. Which didn’t bode well for Viv’s future with her son.
After Sylvia left, Viv sat in the living room of the suite, pondering everything that had happened. First, she mourned for Damien—how sad to have grown up with such a vicious bitch for a mother. And then she began to wonder what she could do to make up for all the problems she’d brought into his life.
“Getting out of it might be a start,” she whispered.
The idea pained her and brought hot tears to her eyes. She didn’t want to lose him, didn’t want to end what had become the most important relationship in her life. But she also didn’t want to cost him so many things that meant so much to him. His family, the team, even his home in Florida, which he’d never set foot in as long as Viv and his mother were enemies.
He’d fought for her, taken care of her, made her fall madly in love with him. How could she let him suffer for it?
Before she could decide what to do, her cell phone rang. She picked it up, not surprised to hear his voice.
“Hey, I’m sorry I haven’t come back. I got tied up down here.”
“Is everything all right?”
He sighed heavily into the phone. “Just a bunch of shit to deal with. My mother dragged half the attorneys in Florida up here with her.”
“I’m so sorry, Damien,” she whispered, pretending not to know what was going on.
“It’s not your fault.”
Yes. Yes, i
t was. At least partially.
“I’m not sure how long I’ll be—are you all right alone?”
Viv considered, and suddenly realized she had to get out of here before he arrived. When he was with her, it was too easy to lose herself in his arms, to forget all the difficulties that came with being the pretty but inappropriate woman shacking up in a hotel penthouse with a billionaire.
Julia Roberts might have gotten her happily-ever-after. But she hadn’t actually cost Richard Gere his company. And Richard Gere had eventually realized he did want love and a happily-ever-after. Damien might be wonderful, tender and supportive, but he hadn’t said he loved her. He hadn’t given any indication that he’d changed his stance on relationships.
“Listen,” she said, “I talked to my mom again. I decided I’m going to catch a train home tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow.” He fell silent. She waited, but when he didn’t speak, she rushed on. “I mean, you knew I was going home for the anniversary party this weekend. I’ll just go a day early to help out.”
“Yes, I remember. I—I’d wondered if you wanted me to take you.”
She clenched her eyes shut, hearing the shocking note of uncertainty in his voice. When had Damien ever been unsure of anything, before she came into his life and screwed things up for him?
Truthfully, she would have loved to bring him home to meet her family, to walk into the party on his arm. But that had been before. Now she realized it was impossible, that she’d merely be dragging him further and further from his real world.
“No, I don’t think so.” Swallowing, willing herself to be strong, she said, “Look, Damien, after what’s happened, well, the truth is, I just want to be with my family. Away from here. Away from...everyone.”
A brief hesitation. “From me?”
She didn’t deny it. Her heart broke at the idea of hurting him, and she knew she was. But was hurting him emotionally worse than being the cause of his financial trauma? Or, worse, him losing the team, which he’d said was the one thing he’d done for himself in his entire adult life?
“Please try to understand.”
He hissed. “Does this have anything to do with my mother?”