The Act

•15•

Stepping off the elevator, I approached the familiar mahogany desk. The receptionist's hazel eyes flicker from her computer screen to mine, a smile slowly spreading across her face. Within the past few months, I've visited Damien at his office more times than I can count.

"Ms. Conway," The receptionist greets warmly, placing her hands in her lap as she shifts her full attention to me. "Looking for Mr. Foster?"

I nod my head, leaning against the desk's dark granite countertop. "Is he available? If not, I can come back."

"He's in a conference call, but he should be wrapping up shortly," She informed me. "Feel free to go on in."

Giving the receptionist my sweetest smile, I made my way to Damien's office door. I gave the door a gentle knock, using my knuckle. Once I heard a faint 'enter' on the other side of the door, I turned the cold metal handle and made my way inside. I instantly spotted Damien at his desk, rubbing his forehead tiredly.

"Mr. Foster," A gravelly voice stated over the speaker. "We can't postpone this any long–"

At this, Damien snatched the phone from the switch hook and held it up to his ear. I watched in stunned silence as he stood from his chair and growled into the phone, "You tell them I said wait and that I'll have the documents faxed to them first thing tomorrow morning. Can you handle that? Can you tell them that? Thank you."

With that, he let out a breath and tossed the phone back to its place on the switch hook. He then grabbed the manila folder that sat on his desk.

"Give these back to Michael," He instructed. The amount of authoritative power seeping into his voice sent chills down my spine. "Tell him to do them over and that I wanted these documents yesterday."

"Right away, Mr. Foster." A delicate saccharine voice states. I watch as a woman's manicured hand reaches for the manilla envelope. She then uncrosses her legs and stands from her seat, tugging on the ends of her unnecessarily tight gray pencil skirt. I clamp my jaw down as she turns around, her bright crystal blue eyes trained on me. I give her a tight smile as her perfectly plump lips curl into a small smile. "Ms. Conway."

"Hello," I say, curbing the sudden urge to smack the perfectly tight bun off her head. She then sashays toward the door, her formfitting skirt moving almost tauntingly with every sway of her hips. I turn to face Damien, raising my eyebrows as the door shuts with a soft click behind me.

"Dr. Conway," Damien greets, taking a seat in his chair. His usual mischievous smile is planted on his lips. He's probably thinking about the many many things he'd like to do with Ms. Pencil Skirt.

Pushing the vial thoughts from my head, I took a breath and replied, "Damien."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He inquired. I made my way further into the room. I felt his eyes on me–following my every movement as I ambled toward the massive floor to ceiling windows located behind his desk. My heart jumped to my throat as I looked down at the sidewalk below.

"Are you free right now?" I asked, taking a step back from the large windows. I turned to face him only to see a contemplative look on his face.

"I can be," There was a twinkle in his eyes as they studied me, making my pulse race. "Why?"

"I want to take you somewhere."

I watched as Damien tugged at his tie, loosening it before lifting it over his head and setting it on his desk. "And where would that be?"

A smile spread across my face at his curiosity. "Spoilers."

Without another word, Damien stood from his chair. He opened one of the drawers in his desk and grabbed his keys. "Lead the way."

"Can I drive?" I questioned, starting for the door.

Damien let out a scoff as he fell in line behind me. "Absolutely not."

"I'm a great driver, I'll have you know."

"I believe you," Damien states, opening the glass door for me.

I stepped into the lobby. "So, you'll let me drive then?"

"Oh," Damien chuckled, letting his office door close behind him. "Not a chance."

The ride from Damien's office has been silent. Its a comfortable silence, a silence I would welcome if thoughts of Ms. Pencil Skirt weren't bouncing around in my head. Turning my head, I peered over at Damien. His eyes were locked on the road. One hand was placed firmly on the steering wheel, the other ghosting over his lips as if he was in deep thought. My eyes lingered on his toned tan forearms.

"So," I started, dropping my gaze to my hands in my lap and breaking the silence filling SUV. "Your secretary. She's pretty."

Damien chuckled; his golden-brown eyes flickering to me before returning to the road. "Chloe?"

I nodded my head, watching as the red light turned green. "She's the one everyone thought you were dating, right? Before me, that is."

"You know about that?"

"I know about that." I confirmed. "I mean, I can see why. She's pretty and...shapely."

"Shapely?" Damien chuckled again. "Are you jealous, Dr. Conway?"

"I don't get jealous, Damien." I scoffed. "I just–I can see how people would think...you two were dating. Turn left here."

"Right," He stated, amusement coating his tone as he turned down the street. I sat back in my seat, training my attention out the passenger side window when Damien's phone started to ring. Tristan's name popped up on the radio's screen. Damien tapped the green 'answer' button. "Hello?"

"Fiji is defiantly happening," Tristan's slightly distracted voice sounded through the speakers. My eyes flickered to Damien's; confusion written all over my face.

"I thought Payson wanted to switch it up this year," Damien remarked, his eyes trained on the road.

"Apparently not," Tristian replied, seeming hardly interested. "She said something about needing one thing to stay the same."

"Alright then," Damien stated, confusion clear in his voice. "Listen, I'm in the middle of something right now, but send me the details and I'll call you back later."

"Are you with Avery?" Tristan inquired, mischief lacing his tone. Damien's eyes flickered to mine but didn't answer right away. "You're defiantly with Avery. Hi Avery–"

"Goodbye Tristan," Damien responded, hanging up the phone as his friend's laughter filled the car.

"You're going to Fiji?" I asked, looking up at him.

He shrugged. "Yeah, it's an annual trip we take to escape from the world. You, Emery and Amara are more than welcome to come if you'd like."

I let out a scoff as I sat back in my seat, fixing my gaze on the road in front of us. "Thank you, but I don't think that's a great idea. Tristan said Payson wants things to stay the same and given that she doesn't like me very much, I'd rather not poke the bear."

"Plans change," Damien states. "If I want you there, Payson will have to get over it."

My head snaps toward Damien. He wants me to go to Fiji with him. It's not that I don't want to go, it's just that my dad is here, and Emery is here. What if something were to go wrong or Emery needed my help? I can't go to Fiji with him. I have to be here. I need to be here.

"Turn in here," I muttered. "You can park anywhere. We're here."