Page 8 of Ice Wolf
“Yeah, so what if I take ten years to finish my novel? The story needs to be perfect.” Why was he acting this way? Not that he’d ever encouraged me in writing, but he’d also never made fun ofmy creative process before. Was he trying to piss me off? The last thing I’d wanted was to work for my dad. He knew that. Our first argument had been all about Damien pushing me into accepting a position. Come to think of it, several arguments had been about my refusal to take my father up on his offer. Interesting.
“Perfect. If the book isn’t perfect by now, then it never will be.”
“Damien. That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair, Lily. It’s about time you realized that you are the captain of your ship. You need to stretch yourself, learn to take what you want. You need to start making a living.”
A deep, heavy sigh slipped past my lips and I turned my head toward the window. Come to think of it, the man had never supported a single hobby or whim over the years. He’d told me I needed to be practical. The truth was he remained angry I hadn’t gone to work for my father. It suddenly dawned on me that had I accepted my dad’s offer, I would have been Damien’s gravy train.
The man spent money as if it grew on trees. My thoughts drifted to everything Vicky had said about Damien over the last few months.
“No, you’re right. Life sucks when you least expect it. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?” I folded my arms, resting them on the table. A sudden need to grab a few sharp knives from the restaurant’s kitchen slithered into my mind.
He had the nerve to look at his dessert again. I was obviously keeping him from enjoying his night to the fullest. A mean streak was forming. By the end of the night, I could end up on the news and not because of my stunning good looks.
“You know I was up for the promotion at work,” he said in a sly voice. “Partner. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Did you get it?” I was hopeful until he looked away and I caught the fact he’d rolled his eyes.
“Not yet. I’m vying for the position against Jarvis. He was recently married to the daughter of a state senator.”
Already, I didn’t like where this was going. “Good for him.” Did that mean he was asking me to marry him? For about a million reasons, my skin began to itch. “What are you trying to tell me, that in order to achieve this promotion you need to settle down?”
He offered a smug look.
“The board of directors of the firm is very picky about who they want on their upper echelon. I’ve thought about this, Lily. You’re a nice girl and I’d like to keep seeing you. But you’re not marriage material.”
“Marriage material? What does that even mean?” Whoa. Hold on here. And I was feeling guilty about being kissed by a stranger?
I wasn’t certain I’d heard him correctly.
“There’s no easy way to say this, Lily. So I’ll just jump right in since you’ve given me no other choice. I’m getting engaged to Sophie Walker. As you know, her father is a highly respected leader of industry. Our alliance will work well with my future plans. Now, you and I can continue fucking and getting together occasionally, but you can feel free to date other guys. We can keep stuff at each other’s house so if I’m working late or on the wrong side of town, I can crash at your place.”
There was some chance I’d fallen into a bad comedy. Or maybe he was pranking me. “No other choice? Let me get this straight,” I said as I rolled my fingers through my hair. “You’re marrying another woman so you can obtain the position of partner in your company. However, we can still be fuck buddies when your fiancée isn’t looking or doesn’t care. Maybe every once in a while, we’ll grab a movie, a drink together, or head to the local clinic to check for STDs. Do I have that about right?”
I wasn’t typically the kind of woman who raised her voice. In fact, Damien had called me the epitome of a librarian, cute and mousy. I should have gutted him right them and there. Instead, I’d wasted almost four years of my life with a man who wanted to have his cake and to eat it too.
“You can lower your voice now. You know what I’m saying is true. You have no real aspirations. All you want to do is write a silly romance novel. Up until now you’ve been nothing but a librarian. I need someone with spunk. Someone who refuses to tread lightly. Who has aspirations to move up in the world.”
“Nothing but a librarian? A silly romance novel?” My skin tingled, explosive heat coursing through every inch of my body. I had a feeling that I was screeching, although I wasn’t certain since I was embroiled in a wash of rage.
“There’s no need to make a scene.”
“Make a scene?” I tossed my napkin onto the table, slowly rising to my feet. As I stood over him, I thought about all the nights he’d told me he was going to call then had supposedly gotten hung up at work. Or when I’d gathered a strange scent of perfume and he’d said their new employee had jumped him for a hug.
Nobody did that shit, not unless they wanted to spend the afternoon in HR.
Goddamn, I was an idiot.
“Sit down, Lily. You’re making a fool of yourself.”
That was it. Maybe my reaction was all about the bad day I’d had or the fact I’d thought we were exclusive. Whatever the case, when I grabbed him by a fistful of hair, my nails digging into his scalp, the feeling of euphoria was fabulous.
But when I pitched his head down, smashing his face into his beloved tiramisu, that was the icing on the cake.
“Have a nice life, Damien. I’ll drop your things off at Goodwill.”
“Hi, Dad,” I said as I thumped down on the couch. Misery was about to become my constant companion. I’d never been so humiliated in my life.
