Mr. Lawson's Assistant

Chapter 30

Biting my tongue to keep from saying anything, I shifted slowly out from under the covers of the bed. Despite the lack of lighting, through the open door that lead to the hallways, I could still see Damon's emerald orbs gazing down at me through the darkness.
"I'll keep standing here patiently while you decide on whether or not you're going to get out of my bed," Damon murmured, raising an eyebrow, "unless, you've decided you want to spend the night with me." He took a step towards the bed. Immediately, I shoved myself into action and shot out of his bed. He chuckled, but before I closed the door behind me, I saw him glance back at me, and wink.
No way in heaven or hell- or anywhere for that matter.
*
I woke up starving, and as I showered and dressed for the day I realized that I hadn't eaten dinner last night. Making my way out into the hall and up the stairs, I found my way to the dining room. As I entered the room, I stopped. Shocked at the vast amount of breakfast food that lined the buffet table on the far end of the room, I faltered at the entrance.
Where did all this food come from?
I blinked, staring at the assortment of foods. Was it too presumptuous to start eating without being invited, or asking whoever had set all this up?
There's no one here to ask, and technically it's all Damon's because he owns the boat...
My stomach growled, and I shook my head before I grabbed a plate. Walking towards the tables of food, I swallowed and glanced around for anyone. No one. I grabbed a few pancakes and oranges from the table, shoving them into my mouth quickly.  I wondered, as I ate, if Damon was going to make me pay him for the food and the boat. I'd left my wallet in my room. Secondly, I was sure there was no way I could afford any of this anyways.
Leaving to go sit out on the sun deck, I glanced out over the harbor, and absently rubbed a finger along the new scab that had formed on my left shoulder. I was beginning to notice that my wound was slowly turning into a scar, as the days rolled by, and I wondered if I would be able to see it with my bathing suit on.
That'll bring an entire slough of nosy questions.
I thought with a dry chuckle, as I lowered my hand and turned to find a chair to sit on.
"What's so funny?"
I glanced up to the dining room doors to see Kenya walking out into the deck.
"The fact that he owns this giant boat, and the only person on it that I've seen, is you." I crossed my arms, and she laughed. Her smile was breathtaking, and brilliantly white- not to mention the single dimple on her left cheek.
"Trust me, there's plenty of people on board, they just don't come up here," She shrugged, rolling her eyes as she stopped beside me with a smug smile.
I frowned, "Why's that?"
"Because, they don't own the yacht." She raised her eyebrows, checking me over once with her shining brown eyes.
"So, how many people does he have working on this thing?" I asked, turning fully to face Kenya, and she grinned.
"Twenty-five."
*
"He has how many bedrooms on here?" My jaw dropped, as I followed Kenya on my official tour of Damon's boat.
"You heard me," she nodded, waving in the direction of the room Damon had kicked me out of last night. Kenya smiled, showing into the indoor living room, and gesturing that I take a seat. "Anyways, enough about Mr. Money Bucks, I want to hear more about you." She shook her shoulders back and forth eagerly, as she took her seat.
Once we were seated comfortably on the couches, she tossed her curly hair over her shoulder and leaned towards me. "So..." she trailed off, smiling at me. I laughed quietly, shrugging my shoulders.
"There's not much to tell-" I started, and she cocked her head at me.
"Don't bother being modest," Kenya rolled her eyes, "If the mafia is after you and you're staying with Damon Lawson on his private yacht- not to mention having a healing bullet wound in your shoulder, there's obviously a lot of interesting things you can tell me about yourself." She held up her manicured hand, and I sucked in a breath.
"What don't you know already?" I frowned, and she shook her head.
"All he told me, was that you needed a room, some clothes, food, and that Pedro's men are after you." Kenya looked at the ceiling in annoyance, shrugging her shoulders, "So, you know, not that much." She grinned.
I couldn't help but smile. "So that's his name?" Kenya raised her eyebrows at me, and I let out a breath. "Pedro..."
Kenya inhaled and nodded, not seeming interested in the topic change.
"Are you and Damon...you know...a thing?" She said suddenly, seeing the serious expression that crossed my face. The next expression was one of shock, and it quickly twisted into a scowl.
"What? No!"
She held up her hands in defense, "I was just curious, geeze!" She laughed, and I raised my eyebrows.
"He's my boss."
"When did you start working for the Lawson brothers?" Kenya clasped her hands around her knee, her eyes lighting up.
"A few weeks ago..." I shrugged, combing a hand through my hair. Kenya nodded, and smiled.
"A long few weeks, huh?"
"That's such an understatement, you have no idea..." I muttered, and Kenya prompted me with a look. "I went from being at home with my brother and roomate, talking about pizza, to running down stairwells, dodging bullets." I pursed my lips, tucking some hair behind my ear. "So, yeah, it's been a long few weeks."
"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Damon has six security guards on board." Kenya cringed.
I frowned, "The fact that we have to have security makes me feel even worse." I grumbled.
Kenya and I sat in the living room, for an hour or so, talking about common interests and things we'd done, or places we'd gone. As it turned out, Kenya and I had much more in common than I would have thought. Though unlike my family, hers was wealthy, and she had traveled all over the world, we both shared a passion for the mountains. I found that most of Kenya's trips had included Damon and his brother, because their mothers planned their trips together. Kenya and I were both interested in buisness as well. Besides that, we talked about family, and siblings. I learned that Kenya had three siblings, and her father had left her mom when she was ten.
"...but my mom remarried a few years later." Kenya shrugged, seeing my expression. "What about your family?"
"There's not much to tell," I breathed, shifting on the couch.
"Liar."
I frowned at Kenya's accusation, but she just raised her eyebrows and leaned back in her seat. "I can see it all over your face." She laughed.
I shook my head, clasping my hands together in my lap, suddenly remembering the several times that Damon had told me I was a terrible liar.
"My dad died when I was younger, but my mom remarried as well..." I started, and Kenya smiled, encouraging me to continue. I let out a breath and pursed my lips. "My stepdad is a jerk though," I told her, and her smile faded.
"Oh...one of those?"
I nodded.
"I hated Tony so much that I moved out when I was seventeen, and have been living with my friend since then." I finished with a breath. Kenya gave me an appreciative smile.
"That's pretty kick-butt though, living on your own at seventeen." She smiled, reaching out to squeeze my hand.
We talked a little about our siblings and Kenya's home life, before Kenya got a call from the kitchen, needing her for something. Apparently she was the general manager for Damon's yacht.
Once Kenya left, I made my way back down to my new room, and climbed into bed. My head was pounding, and I needed a break from the sunlight. But when I was finally in bed, I couldn't fall asleep.
Tossing and turning for a while, I kept my eyes closed, and tried to force myself to sleep, but it wasn't happening. Just when I started to drift off, I heard a knock on my door. "What?" I grumbled to whoever was outside, but instead of answering me, the door creaked open. I groaned and hid my face under another pillow, when the light from the hallway brushed across my face. "I didn't know you were sleeping, sorry." Damon's voice filled my room, as the door clicked closed behind him. I grunted, keeping the pillow over my face.
"Then why don't you leave so I can go back to sleep?" I retorted.
Instead of an apology, I was met with a quiet chuckle. "I just wanted to check in on you," he said quietly, "and make sure your head is alright."
"My head is splitting," I answered, throwing the pillow off my face, and pushing myself into a sitting position to face him, "thanks to you." Damon frowned, but I ignored it. "What do you want?"
He scanned my face, before he walked around the side of my bed, into the adjoining bathroom, and disappeared behind the door. I heard a few clicks, and some rattling, before he emerged again. Glaring at him, I watched as he came to the side of the bed, and held out a glass of water to me. I motioned that he set it on the bedside table, but he held out his other hand, and offered me a few red pills. I cocked an eyebrow at his act of consideration. Sending him another look of suspicion, I took the glass of water and gulped down the pain meds, then set the empty glass on the side table.
"Are you going to answer my question?" I asked him, leaning back against the frame of the bed.
"I already did." He met my gaze, challenging me.
I wasn't in the mood.
"I'm fine, you can leave." I muttered, annoyed he'd woken me up to pretend he cared about my headache.
Damon sighed and met my eyes momentarily, cocking his head slightly to the side.
"I can?" He asked me, a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips, and I shot him a glare. My head was pouding too hard from sitting up for me to come up with a witty comeback. I let out a frustrated breath and slowly lay back down. "If you want to stay and watch me sleep, be my guest." I yawned, rolling onto my side, and closing my eyes.