Chapter Ten

She preferred the glitz-and-glamour facade of the jewelry world over the sweaty, athletic image of his company. It was just as well she wasn’t bright enough to have done any research. If she had, she would have known that Damon's company’s earnings far exceeded those of their family's jewelry business. And it had only taken him a few years to accomplish it.

His mother wouldn’t believe it but Damon was grateful to Sam for being a selfish pinhead. Sam wanted Grace becausese Damon had her. Thanks to that deep need for one-upmanship, Damon had narrowly escaped a huge mistake. But it didn’t mean he wanted to spend quality time with his spoiled, self-indulgent cousin. He’d agreed, however, and now he needed a date.

With a shake of his head, he began scrolling through the contacts on his phone. He had narrowed his options to three women, when the solution came to him.

It was brilliant, really. He was an idiot for not having thought of it immediately. It certainly solved all his problems. Finally he had a way of luring Wendy to him. He had even heard her tell Deborah that she wished she was coming with her to the wedding as she didn't want to be in the apartment alone, maybe she might even be happy to come with him. It would be business, of course, but if the setting happened to be intimate and she was for all practical purposes stranded with him on an Island for three days…..

A satisfied smile raised the corners of his mouth. Maybe attending the wedding wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all.

---------------------------

Damon walked into his office suite. He nodded a goodmorning to his receptionist but halted when she came out of her seat, a concerned expression on her face.

“You shouldn’t go in there,” Beatrice said in a hushed whisper.

He raised an eyebrow when he realized she was gesturing toward his office. “Why the devil not?” he demanded.

Beatrice put one hand up to shield her mouth and then she tapped her finger against her palm—in the direction of his office. “Because she's in there.” she replied.

Damon turned to stare down the hall toward his office, but the door was closed.

Damn, but he didn’t have time for this. He looked back at Beatrice and tried to stifle his growing impatience. The girl was highly efficient if a little eccentric. But he liked unconventional, and he found she brought a sort of vibrancy to the office .

“Okay, Beatrice. First of all, who the hell is ‘she’ and where the heck is Maggie?”

It wasn’t like Maggie not to meet him as he got off the elevator. His longtime assistant traveled with him everywhere. She had an apartment here in New York. She had an uncanny knack for knowing precisely when he’d show up, and as a result she was always there, ready to pelt him with the day’s obligations.

Beatrice's face fell. “Oh, sir, did you not get your message? I left you two. Maggie's granddaughter was rushed to the hospital early this morning. They suspect appendicitis. She’s in surgery now.”

Damon frowned. “No, I didn’t get any such message. Keep me updated. I want to know the minute she’s out of surgery. Send flowers and make sure Maggie has everything she might need. On second thought, send over food for the family. Hospital food is terrible. And arrange for a hospitality suite. If there is a hotel close to the hospital, have a block of rooms set aside for any of the family members.”

Beatrice blinked then hurriedly picked up a notepad and began scribbling.

Damon waited a moment then sighed. “Beatrice?” he called.

She looked up, blinking, as if surprised to still see him standing there.

“Who is the ‘she’ waiting in my office?” he asked.

Beatrice's nose curled in distaste. “It’s Miss Wheeler, sir. I couldn’t stop her. She was quite imperious. Told me she’d wait for you.”

It was all Damon could do not to look heaven ward and ask “why me?” He glanced down the hall and briefly considered leaving. He had no patience for Grace today, and after his mother had extracted his promise to attend this weekend’s debacle, he couldn’t imagine anything Grace could have to say to him.

“Keep me posted on Maggie's granddaughter,” he said to Beatrice as he turned to go down to his office.. He opened the door and swept in, his gaze immediately finding Grace. She was sitting on one of the sofas lining the window that overlooked the outdoor cafés lining the sidewalk below.

“Grace,” he said as he tossed his briefcase onto his desk. “What brings you here?”

Grace rose, her hands going down to smooth her dress. The motion directed attention to her legs—her self-admitted favorite personal attribute. The dress stopped almost at mid-thigh, which meant quite a lot of those legs were on display.

Damon wouldn’t lie. He’d enjoyed those legs. It was just too bad they were attached to the rest of her.

Her expression creased into one of fake pain. She crossed the room, holding her hands dramatically in front of her to grasp his.

“I wanted to thank you for agreeing to come to the wedding. It means the world to Sam and I and to your mom and dad. I know how painful it must be. I can’t imagine how difficult it was for you to agree to go after I broke your heart.”

Damon just stared at her. Part of him wanted to ask her what planet she existed on, but he already knew the answer to that. It was planet Grace, where everything revolved around her. Did she honestly believe he was still pining for her?

“Cut the theatrics, Grace. Why are you really here? You don’t care if I show up or not, so why pretend otherwise? In fact, I’d be willing to admit you hoped I wouldn’t.” he said.

She blinked, and for a moment he saw bitterness in her eyes.

“Gabriella said you were bringing a…..date. It was clever of you, really. But you don’t fool me, Damon. Everyone knows you haven’t been serious about anyone since me. Who is she? Someone you’ve met socially? Do you know anything about her? Does she know she’s going as an accessory? God knows that’s all I ever was to you.”