Beck & Call (24 page)

Mia didn’t know how to apply reason to this statement. “Why don’t I get you that damp towel? You probably need some alone time to figure your way through this.”

Alone time
wasn’t the right phrase to use from a detecting point of view.

Zoe’s mood shifted to resolute. “You’re right,” she said, standing up and smoothing her fancy gown. “I
do
need to dry my own tears. Thank you for reminding me.”

She glided out of the lounge to do it, leaving Mia to stare in dismay at the swinging door.

Well,
she thought. She’d just learned a whole bunch of nothing pertinent.

~

Judging it was probably safe, Mia returned to Damien’s table in the ballroom. Thankfully, Ms. DeWinter was gone. Jake lounged in the chair she’d vacated, next to a frowning Damien.

“Not firing her right away is going to bite you in the ass,” Jake was warning him.

“I told her not to come in on Monday. HR can drop the official anvil when she’s not in the office.”

“You’re firing Ms. DeWinter?” Mia asked.

“Unfortunately.” Damien shook his head dourly. “I really thought she’d last longer.”

This seemed a strange statement, but Mia wasn’t sure how to probe deeper.

“You were gone a while,” Jake observed.

“That’s a story for another time,” she said, not wanting to get into it in front of Damien, especially since she hadn’t sorted out what Zoe’s meltdown meant. She glanced from one man to the other. “Neither of you look cheery. Are you sure you want to stay for dinner?”

“I’m afraid I’m here for the duration,” Damien said. “WorldWide donated a W-22 to the auction. It’s good PR for the company. I’ll be expected to say something. You two don’t have to remain, of course.”

“Sure we do.” Mia pulled out a chair and sat. “We’re in this together.”

“Agreed,” Jake said.

Damien regarded him with raised eyebrows. Obviously, he didn’t expect the support.

“Hey,” Jake said, treating him to his trademark smirk. “After the start it’s had, this night can only get better.”

~

Damien didn’t know about better, but he got through it. WorldWide’s media team had created a snappy highlight reel for the donated car, and it played for the auction’s bidders without a hitch. His own spiel got laughs where it was supposed to. The W-22 earned a record bid from a loud but likable Manhattan realtor. Damien only had to pose for a few pictures. The realtor handily sucked up all the press’s attention.

When the valet brought Jake’s car back around to the main entrance, Damien realized he didn’t want to be driven.

“You two sit in the back,” he instructed his companions.

Jake and Mia exchanged a glance but didn’t argue.

He calmed as he drove, his normal self gradually replacing his not quite natural public persona. Damien sometimes thought his favorite thing in the world was quiet. Quiet spaces, quiet people, quiet but interesting thoughts. His brain felt bigger then, like it could solve any conundrum. Jake and Mia left him in peace, sitting close together but not speaking. After a couple minutes, Mia rested her head on Jake’s shoulder. A pang of wistfulness touched him.

Jake met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “Mia’s tired,” he said.

Did Jake think her action needed justifying? Damien couldn’t tell. “I’m sure she is.”

To his surprise, he experienced more than the usual sense of homecoming as he parked in his secure section of Ten WorldWide’s garage. Jake helped Mia out, and Damien plugged the car into the charger.

His phone vibrated as they walked to the elevator.

“Hm,” he said, checking the short text he’d just received. “I need to stop at the lobby desk.”

“We’ll come with you,” Jake said. “Then we can all ride up together.”

Damien started to deny this was necessary but shut his mouth. He didn’t mind. In spite of its newness, Jake and Mia’s company was already pleasanter than solitude.

~

As they stepped into the elevator, Jake rolled his shoulders uneasily. He still had a warm spot where Mia’s head had lain. He couldn’t have nudged her off. That would have looked weird to Damien, who thought of them as a couple. The problem was Jake had
wanted
her to rest against him. He’d wanted to put his arm around her and hold her there. To be absolutely truthful, he liked how much she liked him. He liked her back just as much and more maybe.

Untying the bond between them—as they’d eventually have to do—was going to be tricky.

The doors opened at the lobby. Jake began to exit but bumped into Damien’s back. The other man had stopped moving for some reason.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” the CEO muttered beneath his breath.

That was a lot of fucks. Jake touched Damien’s back while simultaneously reaching under his jacket to unlatch his holster.

“I’ve got this,” Damien said.

He strode out before Jake could ask what the problem was. Seeing no immediate danger, he let Damien move ahead as he obviously wished. The security guard sat calmly behind his desk, definitely not on alert. Another man stood not far from him in a good quality suit and overcoat. Above average height, his shoes were shined and his scarf cashmere. His non-showy but large gold watch suggested wealth, though maybe not billionaire status. The silver that streaked his medium brown hair put him in his late fifties. His manner was in no way threatening—the opposite really.

He had the air of a person who wanted a favor.

“Cheekbones and jaw,” Mia said beside him. “That could be Damien’s dad.”

Mia had a knack for facial recognition, so Jake didn’t doubt her guess.

The guard jumped up as he spotted Damien and his scowl. “Mr. Call. My apologies if I should have let this gentleman up. I told him I couldn’t without your express okay. He claims he’s your—”

“I know what he claims.” Damien’s words were clipped and exceedingly controlled, making it even clearer that he was furious. “You were absolutely right to make him wait. I value my privacy, and that includes from relatives. In the future, do just as you’ve done tonight.”

“Yes, sir,” said the guard, his eyes not concealing his curiosity.

“Damien,” the other man scolded, though he seemed unsurprised by his behavior.

Damien leveled a hard look at him. “I’m not speaking to you here.”

“Fine, son. We’ll go anywhere you like. Are you and your friends coming back from an evening out? I’d love to be introduced.”

“Fuck you,” Damien hissed, so enraged he was shaking.

This was enough for Jake. He didn’t know what the danger was, but emotionally at least there was one. “Wait here,” he murmured to Mia and went to Damien.

“Hello,” said Damien’s father, offering Jake his hand. “I’m Roderick Call. It’s nice to meet you.”

Up close, the resemblance between Damien and Roderick was striking. Though his father carried a few more decades and pounds, he and Damien had the same greeny-blue-gold eyes, the same Captain America jawline.

Jake ignored his extended hand and addressed Damien. “What would you like me to do?”

Damien blew out a breath that told Jake his presence was welcome, even if he didn’t respond directly. “I’m not getting into a scene with you, Dad.”

“Then come out for a drink. Bring your girlfriend, if that’s what she is. I’d be happy to meet anyone you care about.”

Damien appeared to weigh this option. Jake had a feeling he was going to try to keep him and Mia out of this—not because he wanted to be alone with his father, but because he didn’t want them to be uncomfortable.

“We’ll come,” Jake said firmly.

Damien looked startled. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Either we come, or I toss your dad to the curb. Those are your two options.”

Damien’s father dropped his head to smile. He seemed to enjoy seeing Jake stand up to his son.

“I’m up for tagging along,” Mia said, because of course she hadn’t waited like Jake asked. “Assuming you don’t hate the idea of me being there.”

Jake suspected Damien wasn’t capable of hating anything Mia proposed.

“Fine,” the boss man surrendered. “We’ll all go for a drink.”

~

They went to the quiet hotel bar down the street, where the staff seemed familiar with Damien’s habits. Greeting him without fuss, the host led their group to a corner booth away from the sprinkling of other guests.

Though Mia was ready to drop, she ordered a glass of wine.

Damien and his father requested the same top shelf scotch.

“Glad to see we still have something in common,” his dad observed.

“Cut it out,” Damien snapped, low but sharp.

Mia sat next to him in the booth. She didn’t know why Damien was upset or if he wanted comfort, but unable not to, she laid her hand gently on his thigh. To her relief, Damien put his hand on top of it. His palm was slightly damp but warm. He patted her absently.

“Okay, Dad,” he said. “Get it over with. Spit out what you’ve come here for.”

“No small talk?”

“We are miles past that, and you know it.”

His father’s tone had been cajoling, but now his face hardened. Mia guessed he wasn’t as soft as he’d been pretending. “As you wish. I’ve come to suggest, yet again, that we bury the hatchet.”

“And how are you suggesting we do that this time?”

“As you know, my sixtieth birthday is coming up. Your stepmother would very much like you to be there.”

Damien stared at him as if he’d asked him to dance naked in Times Square … and then set himself on fire. “That woman isn’t my stepmother.”

“Damien—”

“You’re as much of an idiot as ever. She only wants to play more games with me.”

“Son, you need to get over this delusion.”

“You need to pull the fucking wool off your fucking eyes.”

“It’s been twelve years. You can’t believe the situation hasn’t changed since then, that
she
hasn’t changed. If she ever was what you thought.”

Damien huffed in disbelief. “She’s
always
been what I thought. You’re the one who can’t face the truth.”

“This can’t be misplaced loyalty to your mother …”

“You’re right about that,” Damien broke in bitterly. “Janine made sure Mom was poisoned against me too.”

“
I’m
not poisoned against you,” his father said. “I love you. I want us to be part of each other’s lives.”

The hand Damien hadn’t put on top of Mia’s clenched around his napkin. “As long as she’s part of your life, that’s not going to happen.”

“Damien—”

“No,” he said. “Just no. I don’t know how to be any clearer. She’s using you to get to me. I won’t go along with it.”

“You’ve got to realize how irrational—not to mention arrogant—that sounds.”

“Tell me she didn’t suggest you try seeing me again. Tell me she hasn’t been nudging you for weeks.”

“Because she knows how much I miss you!”

Damien’s father seemed to believe what he said. Damien exhaled slowly. He sat very still for a moment before he turned to Mia. She wasn’t prepared for the intensity of his expression. His face was stiff, his eyes like ice over twin bonfires.

“Do you wish to finish your wine?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I only ordered it to be polite.”

His hazel eyes softened the tiniest bit, maybe with amusement. “Good. We can leave now then.”

He slid down the seat and dug out his wallet, dropping three crisp hundreds onto the booth’s table. Jake had extricated himself by then. Only Mia and Roderick remained sitting.

“Talk to him,” Roderick pleaded as Damien offered his hand to help her out. “You seem like a nice girl. Families shouldn’t be allowed to fall apart.”

Mia wasn’t sure how deep she ought to wade into these waters.

“I respect his choices,” she said carefully. “Sometimes that’s what you do when you really love someone.”

As soon as the words were out, a rush of blood caused her cheeks to sting. She’d been thinking of her brother, of how she’d learned to accept Mike for who he was.

If a person didn’t know that, they might think she’d said she really loved Damien.

DAMIEN
must have walked back to Ten WorldWide on automatic pilot, because he couldn’t remember doing it. His brain was locked in its own private loop, cursing him for letting his father open up that old Pandora’s box. Permitting Mia and Jake to accompany him had been weak, as if he were a kid whose hand needed holding to cross the street.

They’d have questions now, ones he didn’t want to answer.

Jake was unlocking the penthouse entry with his palm print. The other man hadn’t said a word, or not that Damien remembered. Damien was numbly grateful as he strode into and across the residence. He had a goal at least. The north access to the terrace, where he had his helipad and his shed for drones, was on the opposite side.

The wind hit his face as he pushed the glass door open. This was the sixtieth floor. The gusts were stronger here than on the street but not dangerous tonight. The competing spires of the city rose beyond his building’s edge, lines of windows glowing in broken dashes as they raced upward into the sky. Damien tugged his bowtie loose and undid his collar. The cold felt good, and the deep breaths he took. He could let this go. He could put the past behind him.

He did it every day, after all.

He’d been there perhaps a minute when a small warm hand slid into his and curled over it.

“It’s cold out here,” Mia said, though she still wore her coat.

He saw Jake had followed him out as well. He stood a few steps from Mia, watching them silently—watching over her maybe.

You don’t need to be watched over,
Damien told himself.

Mia’s thumb rubbed his hand. He gazed down at her, viscerally aware that the rope of diamonds around her neck pleased his inner control freak. In truth, everything about her pleased him. He wondered at that. How had her particular arrangement of quirks and features become so damn appealing?

“What is it like?” he asked.

She blinked, the slow descent and rise of her lashes mesmerizing him. “What is what like?”

“To feel safe because certain people are around you. Infants must know, when their parents hold them. Maybe lovers. I’m not sure I’ve ever had the sensation someone would be there if I really needed them.”