Page 38 of Just The Way You Aren't

“Oh. All right.” For a second, I think I see disappointment in her eyes. But then she gives me a sunny smile. “I have a lot to do, too.”

I nod crisply and check my Rolex. “Damn. I’m running late.”

Willow sits up without comment. I notice she tucks the sheet under her arms to cover herself from my view. Is she feeling self-conscious this morning? God knows, she has no reason to. I’ve never seen a more beautiful body. Part of me wants to see it again now, despite my efforts to pretend otherwise.

Sometime during the night, she must have gone downstairs to retrieve our clothes. Her red dress is draped neatly over a chair beside the bed, with her shoes sitting on the floor beneath. Her panties are on the chair too, but they’re littlemore than a shredded piece of satin after the rough way I handled them last night.

“Sorry about those,” I say, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the chair. “I’ll be happy to replace them for you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She starts to get up then, swinging her long legs over the side of the mattress without looking at me. She snatches up the dress and hurriedly pulls it on, pausing to inspect it after it’s over her head. “At least the dress is still in one piece.”

I walk over to help with the zipper, my knuckles brushing the small of her back as I zip it up. “You looked beautiful in this last night, Willow. You look just as lovely in it now.”

She turns to face me then, her hazel eyes studying me. There’s a question in them, but she doesn’t seem to have the courage to ask it. “I had a nice time last night. Thanks for being my fake date for the gala.”

There was nothing fake about it as far as I’m concerned, but for some reason I keep my comment to myself. Instead, I smile. “It was my pleasure.”

It seems like ten minutes pass before she responds. When she does, her voice sounds too bright. “Okay, then, I guess I should get out of your way so you can go to work.”

She steps away from me and slides her feet into the high-heeled sandals, hastily buckling the straps before I can offer to help. Her ankles wobble as she stands, and she pitches into me. I try to steady her, but then she teeters the other direction and it’s all I can do to hastily wrap my arms around her waist to stop her from landing on the floor.

“Fuck the heels.” She moves out of my loose embrace and lets out a short, frustrated sounding sigh. “I’ll just go barefoot.”

I watch her rip the shoes off her feet, feeling like a first-class asshole. I don’t know how to act with her today, or what might be the right thing to say. All I know is the rising panic I feel in my chest when I think about how much she’s affected me in the short time I’ve known her. She’s a distraction I can’t afford to have, especially with Alfred Rothchild gunning for my head with the board.

I awkwardly clear my throat. “Would you like a ride back to your apartment?” I ask, suddenly worried about how she’s going to get home.

She turns her head and eyes me warily. “I’d love one. But won’t that make you late for work?”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem. I’ll just have Heinrich drive you.” I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial my chauffer’s number.

Willow blinks at me.

“He’s my personal driver.”

“I know,” she says.

Heinrich answers the phone and I turn away from her to speak to him. “Heinrich. I need you to give my… friend a ride back to her apartment as soon as possible from my house. It’s a bit of a sketchy area but I trust you’ll make sure she gets in safely. Please see her to her door. Thank you.”

I turn back to Willow. “All set. Heinrich should be here shortly.”

“How considerate of you, Damien. Thank you for calling me a ride.” She stares at me with anything but gratitude. “To be fair, I don’t live in a sketchy area. My building is full of hard-working people who genuinely care about and respect each other.”

Why does that feel like an insult directed at me? “Well, I suppose I should walk you downstairs. Heinrich should be here any moment.”

Her smile is tight. “I think I can find my own way out.”

I wonder if I should kiss her goodbye, but decide against it. I need to manage expectations. Instead, I hold out my hand. “Thank you for a very pleasant evening.”

Willow stares at my hand without taking it. “I need to go now.”

I nod, letting my hand fall back down at my side. “All right. I’ll see you at our next meeting, then.”

“Sure. Goodbye, Damien.”

The moment I close the door behind me, I’m pissed off. And I don’t know why. I’m not sure what I was expecting. This morning could have been really awkward. Instead, all things considered, it went fairly well, I think. Willow respected my schedule and didn’t get clingy. We both behaved like adults, after all.

So, why am I so goddamned tempted to fly down the stairs after her and drag her back to my bed for the entire day?

---