from you it’s…insightful.”
“How do you mean?”
“When was the last time you went shopping for anything other than designer bags?”
“That’s unfair.”
“Go on, then, tell me the price of a gallon of milk.”
“I’ve been advised it’s a security risk.”
His brows narrowed. “To be amongst people?”
“When was the last time you went food shopping?”
“Yesterday.” He conceded with a nod. “I might have shaken a few hands while in Trader Joe’s.”
“Made it a thing,” I jested.
“I wore jeans and a baseball cap. Still…”
I’d undone the last few minutes of conversation—reminding Damien I was more out of touch than anyone.
“It’s not your fault, Pandora,” he said kindly. “You’re enlightened now. Once you wake up from the illusion of privilege you can choose to make a difference.”
“I’ve always wanted to make a difference.”
“I believe Salvatore Galante is bluffing.”
“About my father?” I hesitated, remembering the rule.
“Let’s continue to be seen in public.” He went back to reading a paper. “It’s perfectly reasonable for now.”
Reaching for my juice, I brought it to my lips, my heart soaring. Despite facing the impossible we were still an item, which meant there was a chance for my dad. Pushing that thought aside, studying the way Damien’s intelligent eyes scanned over the papers, I couldn’t help but be mesmerized by his staggering beauty.
A ping went off on his phone and he dragged it toward him, his expression becoming pained. “I have to go.”
“Where?”
“Downtown.” He pushed to his feet. “Let’s get you home. Don’t discuss what happened here last night, okay?”
“You mean with my parents?” I smirked. “I thought that’s what our sex tape was for.”
“Fuck off.” He grinned as he grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair.
“You fuck off,” I said just as playfully.
He rounded the table and dipped his head to kiss me, his hand cupping my cheek, his mouth firm against mine. “Take your time getting dressed. Make yourself at home.”
“You don’t mind?”
“I like having you here.” He grabbed his wallet, phone and car keys and headed for the door, stopping for a beat before reaching the hall. “Pandora.”
“Yes?”
“I’ll have a car pick you up in a couple of hours from your parents’ place. Be ready. I’ll meet you at my dad’s.”
“Is that wise?”
“You need to acclimate to the intensity of what we’re up against.” He looked down his nose at me. “A change of scenery from spending your days in the lap of luxury.”
“My gilded cage. Lucky me.” I pushed to my feet. “I want to go to Vanguard.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He looked thoughtful. “If you perform to a satisfactory level this evening, I will consider taking you with me to Vanguard. Now sit and finish your breakfast.”
I sat back down immediately, tingling with expectancy as his dominance vibrated through me, my nipples beading at the way he’d barked that order. Why did his voice have such a primal effect on me?
Damien watched my reaction. “When you get home, pack a suitcase full of clothes. Something for every occasion.”
“Am I staying here again?”
“We need you ready for anything.” He pivoted and headed out.
A riot of morning sunlight surrounded me where there would one day be walls. Right now the structure was merely a husk and I felt a gut-wrenching panic that work had stopped abruptly on the Fairfield project.
How quickly life goes tits-up.
I’d been on a high since I’d awoken this morning, knowing Pandora was in my bed. Watching her sleep had been sublime.
We’d taken an important step forward with an authentic evening getting to know each other on an entirely new level—an evening spent in a dungeon that clung to my psyche as only a taste of perfection can. Truly, those were the best hours we’d spent together.
Here, now, was as low as it could get—some fucker had shut down construction.
A voice boomed from across the vastness. “Thank you for coming.”
Blinking through the dust, I turned to see the construction supervisor Al Shaffer, who approached me wearing a hard hat.
He gave a friendly wave. “Mr. Godman, a minute.”
Walking carefully along what would one day be a foyer, I joined him out on the street.
“Guess you heard we received a notice to close down all construction this morning,” he said.
I nodded. “Just glad no one’s been injured.”
“Nothing like that.”
“Who told you to shut down?”
“It came from your father’s office.”
Had I misheard him?
Hiding my reaction, I gave his hand a shake with the reassurance we’d be back on track by this afternoon. Getting this affordable housing off the ground—along with the adjacent after-school program—would be one of my proudest accomplishments.