I half expect her to say that she’s a socialite or influencer. She’s certainly got the face and a body that the camera would love. But after spending the evening with her, I don’t think a job like that would suit her. Too much bullshit on social media. I would know—I spend my life keeping up with social trends and relevant platforms.
“I manage the application integrations and data security teams for an athletic apparel corporation.”
I could tell she was smart. I like that about her.
The chair of the organization gets up to the mic to introduce the guest speaker for the night.
The man’s voice drones on as I cut into the tender filet mignon and raise the fork to my mouth. My eyes snag on a woman across the room. Her long brown hair, heart-shaped face, and big, expressive eyes make me do a double take. She reminds me of Brielle. I can see her clearly from here. It isn’t her, but my eyes scan that way for the rest of the night, catching glimpses of her.
“The dinner is better than I would have thought for a catered meal,” Sasha says quietly next to me, pulling my attention back to her.
“It’s decent,” I concede.
By the time the speaker wraps up, I’m ready to get out of here. We say good night to my father before I lead Sasha out the door. The drive back to her place isn’t as bad at this time of night.
I park in front of her house and get out to walk her to the door.
“Thanks for the evening. I really enjoyed it,” she says.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t something better. My schedule doesn’t have much free time, as you can imagine.”
She wets her lip, her gaze trailing over my face. I know this look well. She’d welcome a good-night kiss, probably more. Maybe even an invite inside. I wait for the spark of interest; she’s beautiful, intelligent,well-spoken, pleasant company. They are all facts that I know about her. On paper, we would be a great match.
We lean toward each other, but out of nowhere, Brielle flashes in my head. Heat flares in my gut, an unwelcome intrusion that halts me in my tracks.
We aren’t actually dating, certainly not in a serious, committed relationship, but this strange feeling like I would be being unfaithful to her has me turning my head at the last second, placing a kiss to Sasha’s cheek.
“Have a good night, Sasha.”
Surprise and disappointment etch her face before she pulls her lips into a smile. “You, too.”
I drive away, cursing this ridiculous arrangement all the way home.
Chapter 11
Damian
ThenextmorningasI sit at my desk, glancing through the emails that I should be actually reading, Brielle is still on my mind. All night, I lay in bed, cursing her name.
Sasha was beautiful and engaging, and instead of spending the night in her lovely company, I had to settle for my fist, alone, my mind a blank slate because anytime I opened those fateful doors in my imagination, it washerthat I saw.
Restless energy coils tightly inside of me.
I hear her voice before I see her. Brielle is chatting with Kelsey from our sales team on her way back from the pod room. I glance up at the same time Brielle’s eyes dart to my office. The door to my office is open so that if anyone has something they need to run by me, they can. Most of my staff prefer to communicate via email though, so hardly anyone comes into my office unless summoned.
“Brielle, a word,” I call to her. Kelsey gives her a wide-eyed look. Others who are passing by snap their heads up in fear. The entire office freezes for a beat.
She smiles at Kelsey before turning toward me. She’s wearing a light green sweater and black wide-leg pants that go down to the floor, hiding her shoes beneath the heavy fabric.
“The door,” I tell her.
She closes it behind her and takes a seat in the chair across from me without waiting to be invited.
“How’d the dinner go last night?”
Her question startles me, and I take a second to answer.
“Fine.” People don’t generally ask me about my evenings or events. Then again, I rarely tell anyone what I’m doing. Idle chitchat isn’t something I engage in with my staff. But I did tell Brielle. The familiarity of it is throwing me off-kilter.
