Damon Noble is an enigma. He’s handsome and rich and charming, yet he hires girls to accompany him to social functions. He could have anyone but remains alone.
There’s a story there, but it’s one I’ll never get to hear. Deep in thought, I walk through my morning on autopilot and help person after person seeing no one’s face. They all blend together.
“Hey, Kat. How’s it going?” I turn toward the familiar voice.
“Em, what are you doing here?” She hasn’t stepped inside Java Joes in over a year because she prefers the little European café down the street. She’s what you’d call a coffee snob.
“There’s something in my handbag I believe is yours.”
“Oh, sorry. I forgot to take out my lipstick and compact, but that could have waited until I got home.”
She looks to an empty table in the corner. “Can you sit with me for a few minutes?” She asks, but I know she’ll never take no for an answer.
I look over my shoulder at my fellow barista, “Can you handle everything for a few minutes? I have something I need to take care of.”
Without waiting for an answer, Em pulls me to the table where we sit down. “What went on with you and Damon last night?” Her eyes fill with questions. I recognize the look as one she gets when she’s on a fact-finding mission. Em is like a relentless dog when she’s after a bone.
“I told you everything. You were at the dinner and saw what happened.” My shoulders lifted. “After that, we danced, and then he drove me home.”
Her right brow raises. “It’s a huge deal that he did that and coupled with this”—Em slaps down several hundred dollar bills on the table—“I’m intrigued.” On top of the bills, she places his business card.
I stare at the stack in shock. Picking up the pile, I count the bills one after another.
“You don’t need to count them,” Em says. “There’s a thousand dollars there, and … he gave you his card. You should read what he wrote on the back.”
I turn the card over and see the inscription.
Best night of my life. Please reconsider.
My lips lift into a smile, and a wash of warmth spreads through me. “I wouldn’t accept payment from him. I had such a nice time, and that was payment enough.” I stare at the stack of cash. “He must have snuck it in the purse when I fell asleep on the way home.”
“I told you he is into you. I could see it from the first moment he saw you. Who would have thought Damon Noble has a soft spot for virginal blondes?”
“I’m not a virgin,” I say, a little too loudly.
Every head in the café turns our way, and I die a thousand deaths while my face flushes red. If I could, I’d crawl under the table and hide until everyone left.
“That one time in the back seat with Kurt Bronson doesn’t count,” Em whispers. We’ve been friends since middle school, and she knows everything about me, but just this once, I wish she’d forget about Kurt Bronson.
“Yes, it does, and I did it twice for your information—both times in his back seat, and both times it sucked. I got there with Tommy Mendoza last year, but his mom walked in on us, and he couldn’t rise to the occasion after that.”
She just stared at me in astonishment, then laughed. “You know, you’ve just ruined a client for me. He’ll probably never call me again. I mean, how will I pay my portion of our rent when you take my paying jobs?” I know she’s teasing because of the exaggerated roll of her eyes as she complains. Besides, Em owns the house we live in.
I pick up the stack of money and place it in her hand. “Here’s your severance pay. Let that be a lesson to you. Never use me as a fill-in again.” I stand to leave, but Em grabs my wrist and places the money in my palm before she turns to leave.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she says. “You have to figure this one out on your own. It’s your money, Chica, you earned it.”
I stuff the wad into my pocket and head back to work.
The last two hours creep by, and by two o’clock, I’m antsy to leave. When the big hand hits the twelve, I clock out and walk the three blocks from work to our bungalow, dreaming of the nap I’ll take when I get to my room.
On the doorstep is a large vase of flowers. Em is always receiving flowers from her admirers, and it’s not unusual for them to be left at front of the door, so I’m not overly surprised to find them.
Grabbing the large vase, I walk into the house, but as I set the bouquet down, I notice my name is written on the envelope. I pull out the card and read:
Thanks for a wonderful night. Please consider a repeat.
Damon
The romantic part of me wants to swoon, but the smart part of me is mad. Damon Noble thinks I can be bought, rented, or sold. I’ll have to educate the stubborn man.
First thing Monday morning, I’ll set him straight.
Several hours later, Em and I are sitting on the couch eating takeout Indian food, which is odd because it’s a Saturday night, and she’s usually booked for some event
“It’s not normal for you to be here on a Saturday evening. Why are you home?” My brow raises in question. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s great you’re here, but it’s a rarity.”
She laughs, “I’ll be leaving later. I have a date—a real date.” She looks at me, and a Julia Roberts smile stretches her mouth.
“Who are you dating?” Em doesn’t date; her choice of employment puts too much pressure on a relationship. She tried once, but the guy got jealous, and it ended badly.
“I’m going out with Anthony Haywood.” She sits up. “Am I crazy?” Chewing on her lower lip, she lets it pop loose. “We had such a great time last night, and he asked me to dinner tonight. He’s taking me to his new restaurant in Hollywood.”
As she talks about him, her voice gets more animated, and it reminds me of when we talked together as kids. We would always sit on one of our beds with some kind of snack food and discuss our crushes.
“Em, that’s great! If it feels right, then I think that’s great. You know what you’re doing.” I set my hand on her knee. “Tell me about him.”
“He owns restaurants all over the world. His newest is in downtown Hollywood. He’s thirty-four and never been married. He’s an only child, has a house in Malibu, and I like him. That’s all I know.”
“I’m excited for you. Since I didn’t meet him last night, do I get to meet him tonight?”
“He should be here in about an hour. You know what else I found out?”
“I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“He’s good friends with Damon. In fact, they’re opening a new club together. It’s called Ahz, which sounds like Oz, but it is supposed to be the sound of contentment, like in ‘ooh’ and ‘ah.’ Spelled A-H-Z. I like it. What do you think?”
“I’m assuming the AH is for Anthony Haywood, and the Z is for Zenith. It’s clever.”
Her eyes scan the room as she zeroes in on the flowers that arrived today. “You got flowers from Damon?” She cocks her head to the side. “That’s another interesting development. I’ve accompanied Damon to a handful of events, and he has never sent me flowers. I’m telling you, Kat, he likes you.”
How she knows the flowers are mine is beyond me. “He is a charming man, but he’s used to living his life in a certain way. He hires escorts. He doesn’t invest in relationships. No offense to you, but I don’t want to be that girl. It would be different if he was interested in a date, but the minute he tossed a thousand dollars at me, I lost all respect for him. I’m not for sale.”
“I don’t take offense, Kat. I use my resources to the best of my abilities. I bought this house with the money I’ve made, and I’m not ashamed of what I do.”
“You’ve done amazing things, and I’ve never once been ashamed of you. Hell, if I thought I could do it, I’d have joined you, but I don’t have the backbone you do.”
“If I thought you could do it, I’d have recruited you long ago.”
“Kat, this is Anthony.” Em seems like
a kid as she introduces her date.
He’s a large man with dark hair and eyes that twinkle when he smiles. His hand wraps possessively around Em’s waist like he owns her, and she leans into him as if she knows it too. Jealousy threads through me. When will a man look at me that way?
“It’s great to meet you, Anthony. Take care of my girl.” I walk to the door and watch Em skip down the walkway to Anthony’s sports car.
Left alone to my thoughts, I think about Damon and how he held me on the dance floor last night. His strong hands supported my shoulder and waist while he led me around as if he were in control of the music. I’ll always remember how it felt to be in his arms, the smell of his cologne, and the feel of his lips as he kissed my forehead.
Depressed, I pour a glass of wine and walk to my bedroom. Sitting on my bed, I look across the room at the flowers Damon sent me. For whatever reason, I can’t seem to get away from him. He fills my thoughts, while the scent of his flowers fills my bedroom. I climb into bed and pray that he doesn’t fill my dreams.
Sunday passes like every other Sunday, except Em isn’t home. I complete my shift at Java Joes and spend the rest of the day studying for my accounting exam. She arrives home around nine o’clock, walking through the door and falling prone on the couch beside me. Her eyes glaze over, but she looks incredibly happy.
“How was the date?” As if I need to ask. Bliss is written all over her face.
“Oh. My. God. Kat, it was the best night of my life. Before you ask, yes, I slept with him, but it was amazing. I can’t remember a time when I’ve been so satisfied. That man’s talents don’t stop at cooking.” Her arms swoon to land on her forehead. “I didn’t want to leave him, but I have classes tomorrow. I just left him, but I’m craving him already.”
“Wow.” It’s all I can say; I’ve never had an experience like that. My best sexual experience was by myself. My most romantic experience was last night when I felt safe and cherished in the arms of a man who paid me for my time. “When is your next date?”
“Tomorrow night.” She giggles. “He’s picking me up at six, and we are taking off for a few days to Catalina. I don’t have classes until Friday. Do you think you can live without me for a few days?”
“I’m a big girl.” I shut my book and shove it aside. “I’m visiting Damon tomorrow to return his money.”
“Go easy on him. He’s had a tough time of it these last few years.” She covers her mouth with her hand as if to stop the information from spilling out. “Forget I said anything. Anthony shared a few things about Damon, but it’s not my story to tell. I had no right to say anything.”
“You divulged nothing, so no harm done.” A tough time? What could be tough about being Damon Noble? He’s hot, he’s rich, what more could he want? Me; he wants me.
“Okay. Just be the sweet, caring, and compassionate girl you always are.”
“Damon Noble will never change me.”
Em laughed. “The right man always does.”
Chapter Four
The double doors on the Noble building are large and imposing, much like the man who owns the building. Reception guides me in the right direction, and ten minutes later, I am standing outside the corporate office of Mr. Damon Noble, President of Noble Enterprises.
The only thing between him and me is a large door and his secretary. The middle-aged woman addresses me.
“Good morning. May I help you?”
“Hello,” I say with confidence I don’t feel. “I’d like to see Mr. Noble, please.”
“Do you have an appointment, Ms. …?”
“Cross. My name is Kat Cross, and no, I don’t have an appointment, but I’ll only need a moment of his time.”
Pursed lips show the lines of a woman pushing fifty if not older. Her black tailored suit says she means business, but there is a softness in her eyes that sets me at ease.
“Mr. Noble is unavailable. I can take your information and have him call you when he’s free.”
I came to see Mr. Noble and had no intention of leaving until I did.
“I’ll wait.” I needed to get his money out of my purse and back into his wallet.
“You’re welcome to have a seat, but he has a full schedule, and I’m not sure when he’ll have time to see you.”
She’s professional and likely telling the truth, but she is getting on my nerves. I smile sweetly at her and say, “I’ll wait until he can see me.” I look around the posh office space, and when my eyes land on her again, I add, “Even if it takes all day.”
“Can I get you something to drink?”
“I’d love some water and your name, please?”
“Certainly, Ms. Cross. My name is Greta.” She walks over to a wooden wall and pushes on the mahogany surface. What seems like solid wood pops open to expose a concealed refrigerator and bar area.
Greta reaches in and picks up a bottle of water and a glass, then closes the panel, and once again, the wall appears seamless.
“Thank you, Greta.” I take the water and sit directly across from her desk, making sure I remain in her line of sight. Maybe if I sit here and stare her down, she’ll accommodate my request more quickly.
Thirty minutes pass. Forty minutes pass. An hour goes by.
I’m well into my second hour of waiting when Greta’s eyes dart to her phone. She picks up the line and responds. “Yes, Mr. Noble. Will there be anything else?” She glances in my direction, and I look at her with pleading eyes. “Mr. Noble? There is a young woman by the name of Kat Cross who has been waiting to see you. She doesn’t have an appointment, and I’ve informed her that your schedule is tight. Will you be able to make time for her, or shall I schedule an appointment for another day?” There is a pause as she listens for his answer. “Yes, sir,” she replies. Greta hangs up the phone and walks over to where I’m seated. “Mr. Noble will see you now.”
“Thank goodness. I appreciate you letting him know I was here.”
She irons the wrinkles from her skirt with her palms. “Please, follow me.”
At the door, she raps lightly before opening it and swinging the door wide for me to enter.
The whole time I sat waiting, I never felt nervous, but seeing him again makes my insides shake. There’s an undercurrent crackling just below the surface, and I can’t decide if it’s fear or anticipation.
Damon rises from his chair and is at my side in seconds flat. He leans over and places a chaste kiss on my cheek. The innocent little peck makes my heart race.
He takes my hand and leads me to a soft leather couch.
He holds up his hand. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.” He walks to the door and exits.
I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until my chest hurt. I release a whoosh of air and follow it with an inhale to bring oxygen to my deprived brain.
Damon Noble will be the death of me. I can’t breathe or think when he’s around.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Katarina. I didn’t know you were here. I promise that won’t happen again.”
Oh, why can’t he be the dating type?
Dressed in a tailored blue pinstripe suit, he is a sight to behold. From his perfectly trimmed hair to his hand-polished shoes, he is the ideal specimen.
“The wait wasn’t a problem.”
“I’m so pleased you came to visit me.” His smile is warm and welcoming.
“Thanks for seeing me on such short notice. I came to give you your money back. I told you I didn’t want compensation for my time. Friday night was the best, and I don’t want to cheapen it by the exchange of money. Please consider our time together a gift.”
I pull the thousand dollars out of my purse and put it in his palm.
He frowns and places the money on the table to the right of the couch before sitting down beside me. His nearness causes my muscles to tense, and my breathing to accelerate.
“I wanted you to have the money because I valued our time together. I’d have left more if I’d had it in my walle
t, but that was all the cash I had on hand. If I had treated you like a normal escort, I’d have handed you three hundred dollars and sent you on your way.”
A sigh pushes past my lips. “Damon, the exchange of money makes me feel like a whore.” There, I said it, and he looks like I slapped him in the face.
“How could you feel like a whore? I asked nothing of you except to see me again.” There is hurt in his eyes, and I can’t figure out why he’d feel wounded when I’m the one he treated like a prostitute.
“I can’t explain it. You acted like the perfect gentleman, and I almost forgot you were paying me to be with you.” I shift so that I can face him, and our knees skim one another. “If I could get rid of the money exchange, it would have seemed like a date.” The heat from an innocent touch threatens to burn me alive. “You told me I’m pure, and in some ways, you’re right. I’m not as forward-thinking as I thought. Really, I’m an old-fashioned girl.”
“I get that.” He rubs his chin, the slight scruff sounding like sandpaper against his fingers. “But I’m not a dinner-and-movies kind of guy. However, I can offer you lunch. Greta ordered something for us, and I hope you’ll stay.”
I want to stay, but I also want to run as fast and far away as I can. Damon Noble spells trouble with a capital T. The curious side of me remains. I mean, I sat patiently and waited for two hours to see him, so the least he can do is buy me lunch.
Greta wheels in a cart that smells delicious. Sitting on top of an elegant teacart are two covered plates.
Damon takes over the presentation, dismissing Greta and leaving us alone. On the coffee table in front of me, he places the plates and lifts the lids with a Bobby Flay flourish.
Pieces of grilled salmon, steamed vegetables, and rice pilaf are artistically displayed on white china. It almost seems a shame to eat it.
He pulls a napkin from the cart and lays it on my lap, then walks to the bar against the wall, and fills two glasses with diet soda and ice.
“I ordered salmon because you enjoyed it so much the other night. This was delivered from Anthony Haywood’s. They do a great job and are my go-to when I can’t escape the office for a meal.” He takes a seat beside me and hands me a glass. “It’s how I met Anthony. We’ve known each other for years.” He pulls the soda to his lips and takes a drink. “I understand Emma and Anthony are dating.” He looks at me for confirmation, but with my mouth full of salmon, I can only nod yes. “I never thought he’d find anyone who could tame him. They make a nice-looking couple, don’t you think?”
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