Trapped with the Blizzard (40 page)

“Only a few years. I’m originally from Upstate so I have official transplant status. Have you lived here long?”

He rattled the ice in his empty glass, obviously bored. “Raised in Brooklyn before it was the cool, now I live here in Manhattan.”

“Rich guy like you, I’m sure you have some incredible penthouse with 360 degree views you’re never in,” she blurted. With wide eyes, she looked up at him and pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. That was out of line.” For the first time she saw genuine interest in his eyes.

“See? I knew you had a little bite in you.” He leaned back in his chair and cocked his head. “A little bite and more than a little intuition. Maybe I could show you my empty penthouse after dinner.”

The flutter in her stomach killed whatever appetite she had left. She’d have to force herself to politely nibble the rest of the meal.
Do I have to go back to his place? Is that what Faith usually did? Ugh, why didn’t I ask more questions before agreeing to do this!

“Maybe,” she could only reply. She looked away trying to appear demure and not nervous, her eyes resting on the back of a busboy’s head. There was something in the way he moved that grabbed her attention…

“Parker mentioned it briefly during our meeting earlier, but remind me. Where did you go to school?”

“MIT, but just for undergrad. I decided to skip my Master’s for right now and gain some real world experience.”
Has anyone ever tried to say that while sounding sexy?
she wondered.

“That’s right. I dated a girl from MIT when I was at Harvard. She never made a sound during sex, it was the weirdest thing. It sometimes felt like I was fucking a corpse.”

Lauren smiled, knowing that he was trying to shock her. She chewed on the small cocktail straw and shook her head. “Sounds like you found a dud. All the MIT girls I knew were freaks in the sack.”

“Present company included?”

“Maybe,” she said looking away. Her eyes once again settled on the busboy and watched him clear off a table. As he hefted the tray of plates onto his shoulder and turned towards her, she nearly knocked over her drink.

Holy shit, it’s Nick.

Lauren gasped and quickly caught herself, turning it into a cough. She snatched the linen napkin from her lap and coughed into it, obscuring her face as he walked by. Glancing over her shoulder, she shakily set the napkin down on the table and took a sip of ice water. Damon was looking at her inquisitively but seemed to decide it wasn’t worth pursuing.

“What’s a clever girl like you doing working for a guy like Parker, anyway?”

“Oh, well,” she said trying to relax. “I’m learning a lot from him, actually. I think the last few years have been a really valuable experience for me. I know he has a bit of a reputation—” She winced as Nick walked past again. She knew he was busy enough he wouldn’t be paying attention plus she rarely went out all dolled up. He probably wouldn’t recognize her at first glance, but second or third? The tension was unbearable.

“Bit of a reputation?” he laughed. “You’ve got a politician’s tongue. It’s true though, Parker is good at what he does. He’s persuasive when he wants to be.” Damon paused, considering whether to continue. “For instance, you didn’t know you’d be coming out with me tonight, did you? Faith is the go-to girl for this sort of thing.”

Lauren took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eye.
You tried your best,
she thought and decided in that moment to come clean. “I don’t even know what I’m doing, to be honest. Parker’s never asked me to meet with anyone before. Hell, I even had to borrow this outfit from my best friend. I’m more of a jeans and tank top kind of girl.” It all came out in one quick statement, as if she were exhaling the confession with relief.

“I find that surprising coming from your industry.” He crossed his arms over his chest, the fabric drawing taut against his shoulders. “You look exactly how I’d expect.”

She shrugged. “I’m just a nerdy girl at heart. I can talk stats and code all day but this? No. I apparently can’t do this. Just because I happen to work with fashion…” She slumped back in her seat, careful to turn away from the open restaurant. She resigned herself to the fact she’d probably blown the entire evening. “I’d be happy to talk business with you or if you’d rather not, I can leave.”

“On the contrary. I’m enjoying meeting the real Lauren for the first time.” He leaned forward, gazing at her with heavy lidded eyes. Her heart thudded in her chest, the slickness returning between her legs even though she was terrified of getting caught. Knowing Nick was nearby only heightened her senses, a panicky feeling rising like she was an animal caught in a trap.

“In that case, actually,” she said reaching across the table for his hand, “would you mind if we went back to your place now?”

He studied her face for a moment. For several heartbeats she was afraid he’d change his mind, but he gave her a brief nod.

“I’ll get the check. If you’d like, I can meet you outside.”

“Yes, that’d be lovely, thank you,” she said practically running from the restaurant.

Lauren tried her best to remain nonchalant as Damon let her into the apartment. It looked like something out of a Sotheby’s real estate listing. The entire apartment stretched across nearly an entire floor of the building, floor to ceiling windows framed sweeping views of the city. She walked into the living room, heels clicking against the tile floor, jaw hanging open.

“This place is incredible,” she said breathlessly. Damon handed her a tiny glass of brandy and smiled.

“It is, really. I take it for granted sometimes and you were right. It usually just sits here empty most of the time.”

Lauren scoffed. “I knew it! I have a semi-obscured view of the street from my tiny apartment.”

“Would you like to see outside?”

“Okay, now you’re just rubbing it in,” she laughed following him though the doors. Reinforced glass ringed the edge of the balcony making it feel as though you could just walk right off the edge into oblivion. She rested her fingers on the edge and peered down, a light breeze tossing her hair about her head. She gaped at the lit Empire State Building which seemed nearly eye level. “Holy shit, it’s like something out of a movie,” she said dreamily. She turned around and noticed he’d barely stepped outside.

“I’m glad you like it.”

“Oh don’t tell me you’re afraid of heights? It really would be like a movie then.” It was a heady combination; all this wealth, his confidence, the brandy. Lauren walked slowly back to him, one foot in front of the other as if walking along a balance beam.

“And what movie would it be?”

“
Pretty Woman
, of course.” She was close to him now, within an arm’s reach.
What the hell are you doing, Wren?

“An appropriate choice I suppose,” he said huskily. “But no, I’m not afraid of heights and I’m not paying for your company. You’re willingly giving it to me, aren’t you?”

Lauren nodded, afraid her voice might break if she spoke. He gently lifted her chin with his hand and all her brazenness flew away in the breeze. His touch sent throbbing electric pulses through her body. She knew his hands were capable of so much more than she’d ever experienced and even the hint of it made her weak.

“Do you know what my name means?” he whispered. She shook her head, eyes locked to his. “It means ‘to tame’ but that’s the last thing I want to do to you. I want to set you free. I’m glad you replaced Faith tonight.” There was a long silence between them, the faint noise of sirens and honking horns so many stories below. Lauren could feel her heartbeat throughout her body, in her throat, between her legs. “Come here, I want to show you something.”

She followed him inside on shaky legs, hesitating as he opened the door to his bedroom.

“It’s okay, trust me,” he urged. It was more command than reassurance and Lauren followed. He stepped past the giant bed, black bedspread immaculately smooth. The dim recessed lighting gave the illusion of candles and Lauren realized she was more nervous than ever. Not knowing what he was planning, she intently watched him cross the room to a large bookcase. He scanned the spines, head tilted so he could read the titles. Plucking one from the shelf, he sat on the bed and patted the space beside him.

Lauren stiffly sat on the edge of the bed, her core quivering with anticipation. It was difficult to see, but the cover was either red or orange. In a stark font the title read,
The 48 Laws of Power.

“This is what you wanted to show me?” she asked. The question came out breathy and he shot her a half smile.

“In my line of work, I need to be intuitive and observant. Most of the things I hear on a daily basis are lies and no one out there, absolutely no one, gives a shit if I succeed. Hell, some people are actively working to accomplish the opposite. I had to learn how to control things around me and quickly, you understand?”

“I think so…” she said looking from the book to Damon.

“From the moment you sat down at that bar, my intuition told me there’s something special about you. I can see a bit of myself in you, as cheesy as that sounds.” His gaze flickered from eye to eye, making her feel exposed. “I did notice you earlier and to be truthful, I watched you from the conference room. You were glued to that computer the entire time, happy to help anyone who interrupted you, but never sparing a moment to relax.”

Lauren’s mouth fell open.
He’d been watching me?
Damon’s eyes dropped to her mouth, his thumb running lightly along her smooth bottom lip. He kissed her softly, as if merely curious about the taste, and pulled away like nothing had happened.

“You’re hungry and smart and beautiful to match. Even if Parker can’t see it, I can.” His gaze fell to the book in his lap. His fingers traced the embossed lettering, a gesture very familiar to Lauren. “This isn’t some guidebook that will help you take over the world but,” he said handing it to her, “it’ll be a good start.”

He abruptly stood, the smile on his face causing faint wrinkles to form at the corner of his eyes. “Now, I think we better get you home before your boyfriend gets off work.”

“You knew?”

“I told you, I’m observant.” He held his hand out which she gladly took. Damon led her out the front door and to the elevator, Lauren’s mind swirling as she stepped inside.

He leaned against the door and said, “Regardless of the business I have with Parker and StyleSpur, I hope you’ll stay in touch. Thank you for a great evening.”

“Thank you,” she managed. The smile Damon had on his face as the elevator doors closed seemed enigmatic; confident, curious, almost like a hunter who’d just laid a snare.

Still in a daze, Lauren flipped through the book and noticed something wedged between the pages. She pulled out Damon’s business card, his personal phone number written on the front. Flipping it over, she squinted at a hastily written message.

Call when you need me.

Getting into a cab and riding home, Lauren tried to make sense of the evening. As she watched the city fly past, she lost herself in thought.
That was easily one of the most bizarre nights of my life. At least it’s the weekend and we’re getting out of the city tomorrow.