“I know you grew up wealthy,” I start. It’s something that has come up in our conversations, not explicitly, but in that roundabout way when he talked about his upbringing. “But where did all this money come from?”
He puts his phone in his pocket and leans back into his seat. “I’d like to say I’m a completely self-made man, but that isn’t true. I had a hell of a head start where finances were concerned. My grandfatherwas the self-man one. He went all in on television ads in the 1950s. His business skyrocketed with the growing number of households purchasing TVs for the very first time. He died when I was young. My father took his inheritance and started his own advertising firm with a buddy of his. My inheritance from him was in a trust, growing exponentially over the years until I turned twenty-five.”
“And that’s when you started CreativEdge?”
“Yeah. The timing worked out that I had the funds available to take a risk, and I was highly motivated to succeed.”
“I like that you started your own business, even though you could have been one of those trust-fund kids,” I tell him.
Damian chuckles. His smile sends a spark of pride through me. I get a little thrill every time I see it. “I think we both know I’m not made to be idle.”
I can’t picture Damian lounging on a yacht in swim trunks, surrounded by a party of people. It would be his worst nightmare. That thought makes me laugh.
He’s already seen my apartment, and I’ve told him that my parents struggled growing up, but I still feel like I should warn him that my upbringing wasn’t quite the same.
“You know that when we get to Colorado, it won’t look like what you’re used to, right?” I say, a smile still pulling at my cheeks.
He traces my face with his gaze like he can see right through me. Vulnerability seeps out. I don’t expect him to be blown away by my parents’ modest home or cars or clothes. But I don’t want them to feel judged by him. My parents have always done the best they can, and I will forever be grateful for the hard work they put in every day to give us the best life possible.
“I don’t give a fuck if you were raised in a dirt-floor hut or a ten-bedroom mansion, beautiful. Makes no difference to me.” He closes his eyes.
I can’t help the stupid grin on my face as I snuggle deeper into the blanket and do the same. By the time we land in Colorado after the four-and-a-half-hour flight, it’s still only noon with the time change. I stretch out my stiff arms, raising them high over my head.
Damian’s eyes land on my midsection, and I realize that my sweater is nearly under my boobs when I do that. I pull my hands down quickly.
“No need to stop on my account,” he rumbles quietly.
Damian follows me down the stairs as we deboard on the tarmac, much like the boarding process.
A black sedan waits for us, and Damian directs me to over to it.
“What about our bags?” I ask. “Where do we pick them up?”
He looks at me like he wants to laugh, but instead, he just smirks. “They’ll get them. Don’t worry.”
This lifestyle is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. It’s a stark reminder that Damian and I come from very different upbringings. While I was playing flashlight tag in the streets in hand-me-down clothes, Damian was attending boarding school with celebrity kids. Even with the generational wealth that was handed to him, Damian hasn’t let it diminish his work ethic or relied on it to see him through, just coasting through life. He’s made his business what it is by being business-savvy and driven. I can’t help but admire that about him.
Damian is right about our luggage. One man collects them from the plane and passes them off to someone else, who places them in the trunk of the sedan.
Damian talks quickly with the pilot, thanking him for the smooth flight, and then to the two porters who helped with the luggage while I just follow along, completely out of my element.
“Mr. Edgerton, it’s been a pleasure to serve you today. I hope to seeyouagain soon,” Alessandra says, emphasizing the word “you.”
Damian puts his hand on my back, pulling me closer to him. I don’t like the way she’s still looking at him. It’s disrespectful to me and to him. I put my hand on his chest and look over to her, my grin feral, and I don’t even care. “Wereally appreciate it. Have a safe flight back to wherever you’re going.”
I turn away from her, Damian’s hand never leaving my back as we walk back to the waiting car.
“I’ll get us a different flight attendant on the way back,” he says. “Unless, of course, you like sinking your claws into me possessively.”
“I’m not possessive, you are,” I huff.
Damian chuckles at my immaturity as he opens my door. “Don’t worry, beautiful. I liked it.”
I slide into the car, thinking that maybe we’re taking this fake-dating thing a little too far, but I don’t have the time to worry about that right now. Because we are here. In Colorado. With my entire extended family, my sister, my parents. And it’s time we put on a show.
Chapter 19
Damian
