Page 89 of Broken Pieces
“The painting,duh,” I say in an ‘obviously’ tone.
“Oh, I meant to tell you I figured it out. We have it. It will be here on the day of.”
I raise my eyebrow. “I’m sorry, what? No,” I shake my head as I point a finger up, “one, I need to see it and approve it,” I point another finger up, “two, we can’t simply do it the day of. We need to register it, set it up.”
He waves at me dismissively. “I said I got it handled.”
“Damian, I’ve worked extremely hard on this collection. I’m not letting you put in a random painting without my approval,” I say in an exasperated breath.
He raises an eyebrow. “Hate to do this to you, Darling, but I’m pulling the boss card. The painting gets here on Saturday, and I will personally make sure it gets set up correctly, okay?”
Un-fucking-believable.
“You’re an asshole,” I murmur.
He lays back on his seat, his chin resting on his fingers, amusement dancing in his eyes. “What did you just say?”
I cross my arms and lift my chin, challenging him. “You heard me.”
He gets up from his seat slowly with a predatory fiery look on his face, making my legs clench.
I love it when he looks at me like that.
He places his hand at the base of my neck as his lips brush mine slightly. “You’ll pay for that later,” he whispers.
“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
“Brat,” he says, trying to contain his laugh.
I pat his shoulder, jokingly. “Asshole.”
He laughs, closing our small gap with a kiss. I place my arms over his shoulders, relaxing in his touch as he envelops me in his addicting scent. His other hand grabs my waist and pulls me closer as he intensifies the kiss.
Isabella knocks as she’s coming in. “You guys are so gross and sickening.”
We separate and look at her as we both laugh.
“Sorry your love life is drier than the desert, Isa,” he jokes.
“Oh,boo-hoo, poor Isabella,” she mimics. “I’mfine.”
I let out a giggle. The thing is, Isabella is absolutely okay with the way she lives her life. She claims men suck, has no interest in them, and is happy with her books and Marley, her dog.
“There’s someone on the line for you,” she continues.
He looks at his watch. “Oh, right,” he looks at me, “don’t leave without me.”
“I have a girls' night with Sophia and Isa. But tomorrow?” I ask.
He gives me a peck as he nods. “Fine,” he glares at Isabella, “you guys better stay in.”
“No, Damian. We’re going clubbing and we are letting Aria leave with the first hot guy we see.”
He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Yeah? Careful, or I’ll send Carter to look after you guys.”
Isabella sneers at the sound of Carter’s name. “Don’t mention that fuckface.”
Damian snickers at her comment and kicks us out of the office to take his call.
