“It’s hardly volunteering if no one sees you volunteering. I mean, how is that going to help our image? You quietly sitting in some stinky senile person’s hovel isn’t doing anything forthe company image, or your image, if there aren’t any cameras around.”

Yep, I’m right. He is sounding far too happy about something. “Cameras?” I grunt, having to sit down in my chair. “You want me to bring in cameras?”

“Of course. Why else would we have you volunteer?” Alfred scoffs.

I try to imagine the look on no-you-can’t-just-write-some-fat-check Willow’s face when I tell her I’m bringing in cameras. But Alfred the Asshole does have a point. It does nothing for the company image, or mine, if no one knows or sees what I’m doing. Damn it all to hell. “I see.”

“I thought you might. You’re a bright boy, Damien,” he says gleefully. “I knew you’d catch on right away. Now, the next time you’re at that dingey hole-in-the-wall, make sure you have a camera crew with you, at least. I’ll notify the local papers?—”

“No,” I interrupt him.

“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?” he gawps.

“I’ll bring a camera crew. But I’m not having the whole operation crawling with reporters while we’re trying to work,” I say firmly.

“Oh, Damien. It’s so amusing you think you have a choice in the matter.”

My eye tics. No, Alfred the Eye Tic tics. I’m naming it now. Because as long as this jackass is on the board, it’s going to be a permanent fixture on my face. “I’m warning you, Alfred…”

“Don’t get fresh with me, you jumped-up little shit,” he snarls. “If I had my way, you’d be ousted by now. The board is giving you this one chance to clean up your image. So, when I say every newspaper from here to LA is going to be covering your charitable work, I meanthe boardhas decided everynewspaper from here to LA is going to be covering your charitable work.”

“Did you call a board meeting without me?” I practically crush my phone in my tightening fist.

“Of course I did. You kept clearing your schedule for that damn charity. We needed to meet at some point,” he crows.

It’s official. I’m going to wring his neck. “Did you tell Rhonda about this meeting?”

“Why bother her when I can see your schedule on the company’s online calendar?” he sneers. “I saw you’d cleared several meetings to be with Silver Hearts. I simply told the board you were unavailable. It was the truth, after all.”

“I would have made time, Alfred. You know that,” I growl.

“I know. That’s what makes this all the more delightful.” He chortles. “I’ll have the press ready the next day you’re with Silver Hearts. Which is also on your calendar, so you can’t try and trick me, you little shit.”

My teeth grind together so hard I swear I’m losing all my enamel. “Watch your step, Al,” I say more calmly. “The day will come when you get everything you deserve. That’s a promise.”

He snorts. “Always quick with the threats. Your father would be very disappointed in your handling of his company. You’re never going to live up to his example.”

“We’ll see. Go ahead and send your reporters,” I reply tightly. “And Alfred?”

“Yes, Damien?”

“How’s the hair?” I ask.

A low growl emanates from the other end of the phone and Alfred hangs up.

I sigh and sit back in my chair.

This is going to be an unmitigated disaster.

CHAPTER 9

WILLOW

My mind spins as quickly as the pen in my hand as I think about Damien and our almost kiss for what has to be the hundredth time.

I would have done it, too. I totally would have fused my lips to that tempting mouth of his and given him the most toe-curling kiss he’d ever had. I think it would have been the same for me—a spectacular, fireworks inducing, tell-your-grandkids-one-day-about-it kiss. The kind of kiss that would be the last thing you lost in late-life senility.

A dreamy sigh slips from my lips as my office door swings open and Abby pokes her head around the door.