Page 84 of Dirty Little Secrets
I keep an unaffected tone. “Maybe they’re new. Probably why you haven’t seen them in our database.”
“I see…” She nods, seeming to accept my explanation for now. “I didn’t know Cavanaugh Industries dealt withsmall accounts.”
“By small, I mean in the low millions, Miss Jones,” I say, keeping my tone light and playful.
“Right,” she hums. “Well, let me know if you need any help with that.”
I grin at her. “I’ll keep that in mind, Miss Jones. But I have a feeling I can handle it.” Emery’s gaze is piercing, still borderline suspicious, and I know I need to change the subject before she starts digging too deep. “What are your plans tonight, Miss Jones?”
She purses her lips. “Why?”
The engine keys in my pocket force a loaded pause. “I’d like to…” The words get caught in the back of my throat. “I’d like to take you on a date.” I swallow, a fluttering in my chest. “A real date. Not just—” She fills in the blanks herself, stiffening, and I ignore her hesitant reaction.Not just sex.“Would you like that, Miss Jones?”
She chews on her bottom lip, and I wish I could hear her thoughts, be privy to her process, to her complex mind and all its wonders. “A date?” she says slowly. “Without any…”
I reign in a chuckle. “If you want dessert, Miss Jones, we’ll have dessert,” I smirk, cocking my head. “But I’d like a full meal prior to…indulging.”
“A meal is never complete without dessert, Mr. Cavanaugh,” she hums, shoulders relaxing as she gives me a small smile. “If I say yes, will you tell me the truth about VenCore?”
My lip twitches. “There’s nothing to tell, Emery.”
“You wouldn’t lie to me would you, Damon?”
I hold her gaze, my mind racing. Breathe. Don’t let her suspect anything. Just breathe.
"Of course not, Emery. I wouldn't lie to you." The words come out smooth, but inside, I'm fucking trembling. "So, what do you say? Dinner tonight?"
Emery hesitates for a moment, uncertain. I can see her struggling to decide whether or not to trust me. But then, she slowly nods.
"Okay," she says softly. "I'll go on a date with you."
I feel a surge of triumph, but I keep my face neutral. "Wonderful," I say, standing up from my chair. "Meet me up on the roof at seven.”
As I turn to leave, Emery's voice stops me. "Damon?" I turn back to face her, my heart beatingfaster. Her tone is firm, unwavering. “I hope you're not keeping anything from me. Because if you are, it will only make things worse."
I hold her stare, refusing to back down. "I'm not keeping anything from you, Emery," I say, my voice steady. "You can trust me."
She studies me for a moment longer before nodding, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. "Okay," she says again. "I'll see you on the roof at seven."
Only when I’m outside her orbit do I allow myself to breathe again. As I make my way back to my office, my mind churns with all the worst-case scenarios. I stop myself. No. This isn’t going to happen. Everything will be okay. She’ll move on. She’ll get past it. I’ll make her forget.
But as I sit down at my desk and plan tonight’s date, I keep coming back to VenCore. The thought of Emery uncovering the truth, of discovering the depths of my wickedness, gnaws at my very core. Accident or not, she’ll loathe me. That can’t happen. I need to know the extent of the potential damage.
I pick up my phone and dial Quinton's number, waiting impatiently for him to answer. When he finally does, I get straight to the point.
"What did you tell the reporter about VenCore?”
There's a brief pause, then he sighs. “Uh oh. Did something happen?”
“Quinton.”
“Cavanaugh,” he snaps in a mocking tone. He laughs. Fucker. “Listen, I haven’t uttered that name inyears, mate. Not to anyone. Especially not the fucking press.”
“Bullshit,” I grunt. “I know it was you. There’s no one else.”
“Looking into crystal balls again?” he jeers. “While I find your misplaced confidence simply adorable, you’re wasting your time. I have no desire to open that specific can of worms. Look for your blabbing culprit elsewhere.”
“There’s no one else,” I seethe. “It’s you.”
