To Charm A Billionaire (Men of Monaco Book 1) (7 page)

"You weren't fired." His father pointed his finger at Dane, then at Damien. "That wasn't the message to be delivered."

"I did not tell him he was fired."

Philippe continued as if Dane hadn't spoken. "We said that your hospital stay was private and you would return when ready."

Damien didn't mind defending his work ethic or his job performance. Now his father was about to clumsily walk through his private affairs. He had no intention of opening up to anyone. Even if it meant that he'd have to leave them believing the worst, he refused to talk about his mental health.

"But I'm not accepting the heart problems excuse. Laurents are healthy. I have to come up with reasons for your emergency room runs a month ago, and again, two weeks ago. Are you on drugs?" His father banged his fists on the table.

"Um ... no." Damien would have laughed under different circumstances. "Is that why you didn't rush to defend me from the rumors about being fired?"

"We are at a critical juncture with major collaborative projects ahead. We don't need any scandals." His father's grim defense left no doubt where his concern fell.

"And if it's the media's freakish fantasy to see us split apart our loyalties?" Damien asked.

"Sometimes those commit the worst damage."

"Each of you is ready to turn your back on me?"

"You needed to rest. Your mother was beside herself accusing me of overworking you." Philippe never showed any signs of caring what his mother thought.

"Like I said, we have aggressive goals in the days ahead. We need everyone's commitment, their one hundred percent commitment." Dane leaned back in the chair. His focus stayed on the bottom line of the company's profits.

"What do you say?" His father turned to Dallon whose slight shake of his head didn't go unnoticed.

"Didn't he have a say before? I assumed everyone had voted on this matter." Damien looked at his father for clarification.

"We did. I suspect Dallon may have second thoughts. I'm giving him the floor to voice them."

His eldest brother didn't meet his gaze. "You're not telling us everything. And that's your prerogative. But to be fair to yourself and to us, maybe you should take a temporary step back and focus on you."

"What on earth are you saying?" Damien wanted to insert a few expletives in the question. "I feel like I'm being hit by a freight train from every corner. Did I wake up in some alternate universe?" Damien wanted to wipe off Dane's smugness.

His father glanced at his phone without responding.

Dallon looked miserable.

"You are so worried about my health. If I sit in this seat any longer, I'm bound to pop a blood vessel. You started this company, but we've helped build it. We all have done our part and earned our part. Now that Dane suddenly wants to idolize the money gods with cutthroat tactics, we have to dance to his tune. Fire me, retire me, whatever you want to call it. I've had enough." He pushed back his chair so hard it slid back and hit the wall.

"Damien, sit down." His father's voice was low.

"No. We're done here. You've made it clear that this isn't a family business. It's just business."

"Damien—"

He raised his hand to stop Dallon's apology or roundabout Kumbaya philosophy on the situation.

His father's voice thundered after him as he headed for the door.

Unlike his march into the building, now he walked out with an unsettled feeling that a chapter was closing in his life. Familiar pressure stacked like a formidable wall in his chest. He smoothed his shirt mentally pushing down, pushing back the gut-wrenching sensation of a dark free fall.

"This will pass." Jacques stepped out of the shadows of the hallway.

Damien focused on placing one foot in front of the other to add distance from his family.

"Your father is under a lot of stress." Jacques's footsteps followed closely.

Damien stabbed the elevator button and prayed that the doors would slide open quickly. His pulse thudded in his head like a fist pounding at his skull. He stabbed at the button again.

"Listen, son." Jacques's hand gripped his shoulder as the door opened.

"No. No more." He stepped out of his friend's grasp and entered the cab. By standing just past the door, he hoped to pass on the message that Jacques wasn't welcomed for the ride down.

The doors closed behind him only then did he turn to ready for when he'd have to emerge into the pit where the reporters waited.

His hand rested on his chest to calm the rapid pumping of his heart. Cold sweat beaded on his brow. Deep down at the bottom of his gut, fear bobbed and weaved with his conscience. If he gave in to the panic, his knees would surely buckle.

T
he elevator's final chime alerted Damien that again he'd face the reporters gathered outside of the building. The doors slid open like an invitation from hell. As soon as his shoulders could clear the entrance, he stepped out into the lobby.

Ahead the view instantly raised his revulsion.

And his feet slowed on their own volition.

Additional reporters stretched all along the front side of the building. The unobstructed view through the glass edifice meant that they could see him too.

"I'm not in the mood." He swore under his breath.

The elevator doors swished closed behind him. His handy escape route existed no longer.

He squinted at the reporters buzzing and flitting among themselves. Several of them caught sight of him and helped spread the news to each other.

Damien couldn't stop cursing. To show steely resolve, to face the hounds, he'd have to dig deep.

Big breath in. Big breath out.
He proceeded onward with the matching dread of an emergency root canal.

"Mr. Laurent, are you prepared to make a statement?" One reporter stepped ahead of the group as soon as Damien emerged outside.

He ignored the bespectacled woman and her annoying questions. To escape her attention, he squared his shoulders and soldiered on through the crowd. Walking the gauntlet with men and women on either side pressing in with their questions was an eerie mix of his reality and fears.

Just push on. And don't stop
.
Don't answer
.

What may have been minutes on the receiving end of rapidly fired questions felt like a hike up a steep slope. By the time he passed the last of the tenacious reporters, he almost fast-walked his way to the end of the line.

Reporters cleared a zigzagged path for him.

He blinked unsure if the stress hampered his eyesight.

Anna
? 

His pulse danced an erratic cadence.

Anna
.

He tried not to race toward her. But he wanted to pump his arms and break into a sprint. Instead, his strides widened pushing him forward to the safe zone where she stood waiting for him.

The reporters' questions morphed into an annoying dull buzz. Anna, with the sunlight framing her where she stood on the curb, greeted him with a sweet, soothing smile.

Deep inside the knot of worry loosened and unwound in his gut.

"Figured you might need company." She stood her ground as the gentle breeze played with the bottom half of her dress whipping the fabric around her legs. Her thick dark hair rustled under the wind before her hand made a failed attempt to restrain it all.

"Seeing you is ... unexpected." He shook his head to rid his thoughts of the reporters' constant and noisy intrusion. 

"I caught the news. Figured I'd check to see if you needed rescuing."

"I'm fine." His chin raised a smidgen.

"Stop being prideful." Her tone sharpened with disapproval.

"Fine, but maybe I don't want or need your pity." He lowered his finger that jabbed at the space between them. The euphoric glow of seeing her tarnished a bit with her observations.

"Good to know. Showing you an ounce of sympathy never crossed my mind."

Damien sidestepped Anna to get to his car and before she picked up on the turmoil churning within him. Reaching out to her conflicted with the need to keep her at arm's length. Yet his personal vow couldn't stand up against her presence.

She was a guiding light in the storm. Where she'd lead him to his final destination remained a mystery that he didn't want to solve. At least, not this instant.

He reached his car with Anna keeping up with his steps. "What do you want?" He looked at her over the top of his car.

Believing her proved difficult. Impossible. Trusting in whatever she said meant way more than he was willing to give.

The problem with his strategy was that he had no stamina against her steady invasion. And damn it, he wished there was a magic pill to build up his defense.

Otherwise, her smile, the small clearing of her throat, the habitual smoothing of her hair behind her right ear, all the tiny actions she performed knocked hard at his soul to let her in.

"Stop treating me like the enemy." Her demand shot out at him in a desperate plea.

"What are you, then?" He agreed that enemy was a strong denouncement, but her motivations weren't clear either. It already had been one hell of a day. He didn't need to crumble like a lovesick adolescent.
What did she want?

"A friend."

Damien shook his head. "Right now, I'm flying solo."

"Since when did you run from me?"

He bristled under the challenge but also at the contemptuous pose she struck with her fisted hands on her hips.

"Okay, say the word and I'll go." Anna raised her hands in surrender and backed away from his car.

_________

S
ay the word and I'll go
.

Anna couldn't believe that she just said something that she would regret if Damien did tell her to leave. Nothing left to do but hope that he'd have a miraculous change of heart as she continued with her retreat.

She was almost out of earshot, as she continued backing away. Her feet neared the end of the curb before she'd cross the road to walk to her car. Sad that it ended this way. She massaged her thoughts into accepting the reality.

"Stay. Please."

Anna hesitated, then continued to put distance between them. She needed to hear more than two words from Damien. Needed to see a change of heart. A sign that he believed her actions were for his wellbeing.

He pressed, "Help me get away from here. They won't know your car."

"And then you'll dismiss me when you're satisfied." Anna wanted to be with him enjoying his company, but not by losing her self-respect.

He looked down breaking eye contact with her.

His introspection unnerved her. Climbing out of his bed after his rejection had wounded her heart. Offering up another olive branch to him took a bit of effort on her part when it would have been easier to give up.

To come and see Damien hurting and angry over the unexpected news rattled her resolve. She couldn't deny wanting to protect him. But the current swift switch of delight when he saw her to this frosty suspicion disappointed her.

Turning her back on him, she stiffened her spine for a quick exit. 

"Look, I'm not fine." His footsteps followed her.

Anna faced him stepped back onto the curb.

He looked down at his feet. "All of this is too much. I need a place where I can breathe."

His anguish rushed toward her with the power of an unruly wave. Anger, pain, and resignation—his crosses to bear—washed over her before retreating back to Damien.

Anna took tentative steps toward him but stopped short in case he blocked her intention with suspicion.

He wiped his brow and offered a half-smile.

She noticed the small tremor of his hand. So did he as he flexed it and lowered his hand. 

She nodded. "I'll help you."

The upward hitch at the corner of his mouth was enough to trigger her answering smile. Once more a fragile bridge stretched between them.

"
Mille merci
."

"It's going to be all right." His gratitude touched her. She'd much rather place a reassuring hand against his cheek than utter promises that had a 50-50 chance of success.

He looked over in the direction of the reporters. Frustration knitted his brow. As he studied the scene, his body turned rigid. She knew that he needed to separate himself from this place and the hungry reporters.

"I'll head over to my car," Anna offered. Standing around wasn't going to do any favors for Damien.

He nodded. "And I'll go through the building and exit in the rear. Meet me in about five minutes?"

She watched him start on his getaway plan. When he disappeared from her view, she returned her focus to the current mission. To be unnoticed on her way to the car.

Potential problems vanished when Damien allowed the rabid press to see him re-enter the building. None would be able to bypass security to track his escape. But they should stay put in front of the building expecting another face-to-face with Damien.

Anna didn't waste another second and hurried to her car. Keeping an eye on the group, she started the engine and drove to the rear of the building. Never in any of her dreams did she aspire to be a getaway driver. Yet she sat in the car with engine running waiting for Damien to emerge through the emergency exit steel doors.

Her fingers drummed on the steering wheel. She had to admit to enjoying the rush of adrenalin.

"Come on, Damien," she softly urged. Her glance shifted from the rear view mirror to the side mirror and to the doors with steady repetition. Her anxiety ratcheted up.

The door suddenly opened and Damien popped out and looked over at the car before waving. She motioned for him to hurry. Time to act like a professional driver transporting precious cargo.

"Where would you like to go for your escape from this madness?" Anna asked as soon as he slid into the passenger seat.

"Somewhere quiet." His eyes pinched closed. Tension clamped its tight play with his jaw. 

Anna shifted into gear. "Seatbelt, please." Once he complied, she hit the accelerator. "Let's get out of here."

The car shot out of the parking space and onto the main road with a few angry car horns blaring in their wake.

Anna glanced over at Damien whose fingers gripped the dashboard as the car shifted lanes and rounded a sharp turn.

"Regretting this?" She failed to stifle her amusement.

"Are you sure that you're trying to rescue me?"

"But of course, can't be a super-heroine without saving someone."

"Super-heroines aren't wearing sundresses with strappy sandals."

"And you're an expert?" She teased, blushing from his observation about her clothes.

"What's your special power?" Damien pressed.

"
One
of my powers is my skills with this car. I've been racing cars. Only for fun, though," she explained with a chuckle.

"Now you tell me." He groaned and tested the seatbelt across his body. "You do realize that hurtling off a cliff doesn't count as a successful escape?"

"A little trust goes a long way," Anna joked, hoping the underlying message ran deep.

Sitting at a red traffic light, she pressed the button to slide back the car's roof until it locked into place behind the back seat. She slipped on her shades and looked over at Damien until he did the same.

Wearing a cocky grin, she gunned the engine. The instant the light switched to green, her feet see-sawed with the clutch and gas pedals. Her body drilled back into the seat while her hands curled around the steering wheel.

The car's engine roared its power as she navigated the streets. They zipped through the city, turning down side roads with little space on either side for the car's width.

Pedestrians wisely took a step back or hopped onto the sidewalk as they hurtled past the designer boutiques. There were no signs of reporters following, but she enjoyed the meteoric burst of energy throughout her entire system.

"Where are we heading?" he yelled over to her. The car intersected the wind currents whipping around the car.

"Taking us to a quiet spot."

"Like old times?" He continued to grip the dashboard as she took another hard right.

"Yes, like old times." She pressed the accelerator shooting the speedometer upward to breathtaking momentum.

"Since when have you become a daredevil?" He had to lean toward her to shout over the wind.

 "You did this to me." She dared not look at him. Navigating the narrow streets demanded full attention. "When we dated, you were the daredevil and I was the one holding on for dear life."

"I'm sorry for that."

Anna laughed. "No regrets that's what you used to say. Remember?"

"And I was a damn fool, too."

"Look, we were both too intense and idealistic. You made living life to the fullest look like a big party. And I tried to keep up."

They'd arrived at their destination and parked.

"That's why I was a fool." He leaned over the armrest between them.

Anna held her breath for a second. He was so close. To touch. To kiss.

"Come here," he whispered. His mouth curved into a devilishly sexy smile inviting her closer. Drawing her under its spell.

"I'm right here." She pretended to be unmoved by his close proximity. But she might as well have taken a seat under a sun lamp and melted under the heat.

"You're beautiful." He cupped her face. His thumb brushed along her cheek.