His Resolution – Kisses at Midnight

And just like that, I was trapped. Through my father, Melany controlled everything. My money, my freedom, even my dogs once she realized how much I wanted them. She threw me a carrot, letting me have them in the first place, then threatened me with the stick of making them disappear if I didn’t toe the line. My meds, a year in Europe…then traveling the world as a model. Every girl’s dream.

Except, that’s not where Damon is…

“Fuck that. An allowance of your own money. No. Sorry, that’s not how that works.”

I know January is trying to help, but she’s just making me feel worse.

“Please don’t,” I beg. “Just be my friend and be there for me through this, okay? A year. I can do a year. Telling me all the shitty things they are doing doesn’t help. I’m living it, I know already.”

Her voice softens. “I’m sorry. They just piss me off.”

Just then, the limo sputters and the car slows. We are on the freeway and I press the button, lowering the privacy screen between the back and the driver, and I see smoke or steam billowing out of the hood.

“I have to go. I’ll call you when I get settled.”

“Okay, you better or I’m going to blow up your phone until you answer.”

We say a quick goodbye as the driver eases the car onto the shoulder of the freeway.

“What’s going on?”

He turns. “Not sure, ma’am. Just sit tight.” He puts the car in park and I watch as he looks back toward the traffic, waiting for a clear moment before he climbs out of the car, lifts the hood, and I hear him talking on his phone.

A few minutes later, he trudges back and I wind my window down to see the exasperated look on his face. “I’m sorry. Looks like the radiator went. I called the agency, they said they are sending someone right away. We’ll try to get you to your flight on time, but we’re already running late…”

My stomach drops.

Is this a sign?

Chapter Five

Damon

THE ACHE IN MY CHEST throbs as I let my head fall back into the headrest and feel my Bentley idling beneath me.

My assistant, Margaret, speaks through the speakers on the car, coordinating what will be my upcoming absence. “I’ve got the Falcon Industries CEO settled down. The Morgan brothers have accepted the contract you sent over and James Riley will forward the paperwork to your apartment in Paris.”

“Fine.” I reply, running a distracted hand through my hair then down the back to grip the base of my neck, the muscles so tense they are like steel cables.

Snow is beginning to fall and gray clouds are masking the morning sun as I watch the clock on the dash, counting the minutes until I’ll pull onto the freeway. She’s right there, sitting in the back of a limousine, thinking I’ve forgotten all about her.

The very idea is laughable. How could I forget my heart?

Margaret continues. “The delivery acknowledgement for the flowers and the necklace to Laney Wainwright came through as well. I worded the card as you asked. Nice way to let her down easy with a consolation prize.” There’s a hint of disappointment in her voice. “You know, I just want you to be happy, Damon.”

“What makes you think I’m not happy, Margaret?” We’ve had this same conversation more times than I can count, but the difference this time is I finally understand what she’s been harping about all these years. With Doralee, I feel that happiness.

I feel fucking joy.

“Work is not everything. Money is not everything. Being the big, mega-mind Damon Lassiter is not what will make you happy.”

“Margaret.” I cut her off. “Do you trust me?”

She answers instantly: “Yes, of course I do.”

“Then trust me when I say, Laney Wainwright was not what would make me happy. But I’ll tell you a secret. I’m working on something that will. So just do what you do best. Keep the ship sailing while I’m away. Keep the wolves at bay until I get a few things straight. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can.” Her voice is sharp and professional and I know she’s with me. She’s as smart as me, and probably could run the company better than I can. “Are you sure you don’t want your usual security detail with you? Whatever this is you’re doing…”

She’s fishing but I don’t budge. I need privacy. I need to get Doralee attached to me completely before I bring the outside world back in.

“No. No security. I’ll be in touch. Unless it is an absolute fucking emergency, I’m not available to anyone until you hear from me, got it?”

“Yes, sir,” she answers. “It’s holiday time, so that helps.”

We cover a few more tidbits then sign off, my heart slamming around in my chest, thinking of the plans I have in place.