Chapter 99: Chapter 98: Damien Is Jealous
ARIA’S POV
The next day, Damien was exactly as he’d warned....cold, distant, harsher than usual.
Every interaction was clipped and professional. Every glance was brief and impersonal. He didn’t acknowledge the coffee she brought at 8 AM beyond a curt nod. Didn’t thank her when she prepared briefing materials perfectly. Didn’t look at her during the morning meeting except when absolutely necessary.
It was like yesterday’s moment in the conference room had never happened. Like that confession....I’ve been trying not to think about it all day.....had been imagined.
By lunch, Aria’s chest ached with the effort of pretending it didn’t hurt.
By 3 PM, she wanted to scream.
By 5 PM, she was exhausted from the emotional whiplash of hope yesterday and ice today.
She was packing up her desk at 6 PM, ready to escape to the sanctuary of her mother’s apartment, when Emma from marketing appeared at her desk.
"Hey, Aria. We’re doing happy hour at Morrison’s Bar tonight. You should come."
Aria shook her head. "I don’t think...."
"Come on. You’ve been here almost a week and you haven’t socialized with anyone except during work hours. You need to decompress. Plus....."
Emma lowered her voice conspiratorially. "The senior staff will be there. Including Mr. Blackwood. It’s good to be seen at these things. Shows you’re a team player."
The mention of Damien made Aria hesitate. Seeing him outside the office, in a social setting, would be torture. But Emma was right.....if she wanted to fully integrate into Blackwood Enterprises, she needed to make an effort.
"Okay. What time?"
"Seven. Morrison’s is two blocks south. Can’t miss it—big glass front, very upscale. See you there!"
Emma bounced off, leaving Aria to wonder if she’d just made a terrible mistake.
********
Morrison’s Bar was exactly as advertised.....upscale, sophisticated, the kind of place where a single cocktail probably cost more than Aria’s entire dinner budget for a week.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the street. Plush leather seating. Ambient lighting that was just dim enough to feel intimate without being dark. A sleek bar with bottles of expensive liquor displayed like art.
Aria arrived at 7:15, deliberately late so she wouldn’t be the first one there. The Blackwood Enterprises group had claimed a large section near the windows.....maybe fifteen people scattered across several high-top tables and the bar itself.
She spotted Emma immediately and headed over.
"You made it!" Sarah handed her a glass of white wine. "Here. You look like you need this."
Aria took it gratefully. "That obvious?"
"You’ve had that same stressed expression all week. Drink. Relax. Try to have fun."
Aria sipped the wine....crisp, expensive, probably something she couldn’t pronounce. It went down smooth and warm, immediately taking the edge off her anxiety.
She was chatting with Emma and a few other junior staff members when the energy in the bar shifted.
She felt it before she saw it. That awareness that prickled along her spine whenever he was near.
Damien had arrived.
He walked in with Julian, both of them in suits with loosened ties....the only concession to the casual atmosphere. Every head in the Blackwood group turned. People straightened up, smiled brighter, laughed louder.
His presence commanded the space even here, even outside the office.
Damien’s eyes swept the bar, cataloging who was present. They landed on Aria for just a moment....a brief, unreadable glance....before moving on.
No acknowledgment. No greeting. Just that impersonal assessment that said I see you, noted, moving on.
Aria’s grip tightened on her wine glass.
"He’s so intimidating," Emma whispered. "Even when he’s supposed to be relaxing, he looks like he’s strategizing world domination."
"That’s because he probably is," one of the male analysts said. "Damien Blackwood doesn’t do anything without a plan."
They all laughed, but Aria couldn’t join in. She was too busy trying not to watch as Damien and Julian claimed spots at the bar, ordered drinks, and fell into what looked like an intense conversation.
She needed to not stare at him. Needed to focus on her own group, her own conversation, her own attempt at normal social interaction.
But it was impossible. Her eyes kept drifting back to him. The strong line of his jaw. The way his fingers wrapped around his glass. The rare smile that appeared when Julian said something amusing.
God, she missed him. Missed being the one who made him smile. Missed being close enough to touch him, to feel the solid warmth of his body, to hear his voice say her name with affection instead of cold professionalism.
"Aria? You okay?" Emms’s voice broke through her thoughts.
"Yeah. Sorry. Just tired."
"Have another drink. It’ll help."
Aria’s glass was empty. She didn’t remember finishing it.
Emma flagged down a server, ordered another round for their group. The second glass of wine appeared almost immediately.
Aria drank it faster than the first. The warmth in her stomach spread, loosening the tight knot of tension she’d been carrying all day.
One glass became two. Two became three.
She wasn’t a heavy drinker. Never had been. But tonight, with Damien twenty feet away pretending she didn’t exist, with her body still aching from yesterday’s brief touch, with the stress of the week piling up....tonight she needed the escape alcohol offered.
By 9 PM, she was well past tipsy and sliding into properly drunk.
The bar had gotten more crowded. The Blackwood group had spread out, mixing and mingling. Aria found herself at one of the high-top tables with people she barely knew, laughing too loud at jokes that weren’t that funny, swaying slightly on her bar stool.
"Whoa, easy there." Emma steadied her. "Maybe you should switch to water?"
"I’m fine," Aria said, though her words were slightly slurred. "Perfectly fine. Having fun. This is fun, right?"
"Yeah, but....."
"I need another drink." Aria stood, immediately regretting it as the room tilted slightly. "Just one more."
She made her way to the bar, careful to keep her balance in her heels, and signaled the bartender.
"Vodka tonic, please."
"Rough day?"
She turned to find Mark standing beside her, smiling sympathetically.
"Rough week," she corrected. "How are you managing to look so put-together?"
"Practice. I’ve been doing this for three years." He gestured to the bartender. "Put her drink on my tab. And make it a single, not a double."
"I can pay for my own drinks," Aria protested.
"I know. But you look like you’re about to fall over, and I’d rather you pace yourself." Marcus studied her with concern. "You’ve been working for Blackwood less than a week and you already look exhausted. Is he driving you that hard?"
"He has high standards."
"That’s one way to put it." Marcus’s drink arrived.....something amber in a rocks glass. "Between you and me? I’ve heard the rumors about why his assistants keep quitting. He’s brilliant but demanding to the point of impossible. Don’t let him break you."
"I won’t."
But even as she said it, Aria knew it was a lie. She was already breaking. Already barely holding on. Already wondering how long she could endure this before she shattered completely.
Her vodka tonic arrived and she took a long drink, the alcohol burning down her throat.
"Easy," Marcus warned. "That’s strong."
"Good."
She was taking another sip when she felt it.....that prickle of awareness. That sensation of being watched.
She turned.
Damien was at the other end of the bar, his eyes locked on her with an intensity that made her breath catch. He wasn’t even pretending to look away. Just staring at her with an expression that was part anger, part something else she couldn’t identify.
Their eyes met across the crowded bar.
Time seemed to slow. The noise around them faded. It was just them—locked in a silent battle of wills.
Then Julian said something and Damien turned away, breaking the connection.
Aria’s hands were shaking as she set down her drink.
"You okay?" Marcus asked.
"Yeah. I just....I need some air."
"Want me to come with you?"
"No. I’ll be fine. Just need a minute."
She made her way toward the bathroom, her balance precarious in her heels and her drunken state. The hallway leading to the restrooms was quieter, dimmer, offering a brief respite from the noise and lights and overwhelming presence of Damien Blackwood.
She leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, and tried to breathe.
This was a mistake. Coming here was a mistake. Drinking was a mistake. Being anywhere near him while feeling this vulnerable was a mistake.
She should call an Uber. Go home. Sleep this off.
She pulled out her phone, squinting at the screen as she tried to open the app.
"Need help with that?"
The voice was deep, familiar, and entirely too close.
Aria’s eyes flew open.
Damien stood three feet away, his expression dark and unreadable in the dim hallway lighting.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her words definitely slurred now.
"I could ask you the same thing. You’re drunk."
"So? I’m off the clock. I can do what I want."
"Can you?" He moved closer, and she could smell his cologne....that familiar, intoxicating scent that made her want things she shouldn’t want.
"Because right now, you’re stumbling around a bar, drunk enough that you can barely stand, with male colleagues offering to buy you drinks. What exactly were you planning to do, Aria?"
The jealousy in his voice was unmistakable.
"Mark was being nice. That’s all."
"Mark was flirting with you. There’s a difference."
"So what if he was? You made it very clear that there’s nothing between us. That we’re just boss and employee. Professional distance, remember?" The alcohol made her brave, made her say things she’d never say sober. "So why do you care if another man flirts with me?"
His jaw clenched. "Because you’re mine."
