Page 69 of Pandora's Pleasure
“How was your meeting with your dad?” I asked.
“Seatbelt on,” he snapped.
Pulling mine on, I asked, “What about yours?”
He was too busy texting. “Do as I say, and all that.”
“Damien, what’s wrong?”
He glanced at the chauffeur. “Not now.”
Turning to face him, I felt a rant building inside me. “This is how it always goes. Don’t do that. Do this. Be like this—”
“Bad time for a tantrum.”
“I’m expressing how I feel.”
“Feelings are irrelevant in our business. Or didn’t they teach you that at your finishing school?”
“If you’re asking if I studied politics, yes, I did,” I replied. “I’m fluent in several languages—including computer programming. I can play the piano well enough to get by at a dinner party—”
“I saw your resume,” he said dryly. “Very impressive. Want a standing ovation?”
I poked a finger into his ribs. “I could have gotten into Yale.”
“Your point?”
“If there’s a problem, maybe I can help.”
“If I need someone to hack into a computer, I’ll call you.”
“You know I can actually do that, right?”
He shot a warning glare at the driver. “She’s joking.”
I reached over and gave his arm a squeeze. “Tell me about it when we get home.”
“Very well.” He didn’t sound convincing.
I touched my pendant, making sure he saw my revenge play.
He pretended to ignore me and focused on his iPhone instead, tapping away on the screen, no doubt sending off emails and reading texts that made him cringe now and again.
Something had him extremely upset, going by his deepening frown lines and the occasional expression of defeat I saw on his face. Seeing him like this was difficult.
We drove the rest of the way in silence.
Once out of the car, Damien pulled me closer. “There’s a lot going on.”
“I’m here if you want to talk.” I watched him walk over and lift my suitcase out of the back of the SUV.
He rolled my suitcase up the driveway as I followed, which seemed to make the driver uncomfortable. Damien turned back to face him. “Take the rest of the day off.”
The chauffeur brightened and gave him a grateful nod.
Damien might be a class-A asshole, but at least he was a gentleman to the staff.
We headed into Foxhall.
