*Isabella's POV*
Our ride home was awkward, to say the least.
"You skipped dinner," he suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. "Do you maybe want to... grab something to eat?"
I looked back at him in terror. Of course he was being nice, but to actually invite me out? That was just unexpected...
"I said I was fine, sir. I should be home soon; my boyfriend is waiting for me." I said after being quiet for quite some time. And then it hit me... I did have a boyfriend, and he was waiting for me at home. Damn, we had dinner plans, and I only now realized I hadn't checked my phone in hours. I had put it on silent to keep me focused.
I took out my phone, and as soon as I turned it on, I was shocked to see 11 missed calls and some texts from Harry, my boyfriend. The texts read: "I'm waiting." "Still waiting." "Screw this, I'm opening the bottle."
"I didn't know you had a gentleman awaiting your arrival back home," Damien said, drawing my attention from my phone to him.
'Yeah, a gentleman,' I thought, rolling my eyes slightly. "I hope everything is okay."
"Of course it is," I replied. "That's the house. Tony, please stop the car."
"Have a good night, Isabella," Damien said in a soft but firm voice.
"You too, sir," I said, stepping out of the car and walking into the house.
"Harry!" I shouted as I walked into the house. The lights were off. "This place is a mess," I said to myself. I stomped into the bedroom, and as I entered, a strong smell hit me. The room reeked of alcohol.
I looked towards the bed only to see Harry passed out with beer bottles on the floor around him. The motherfucker got wasted and crashed on the bed with his clothes on. And he knows damn well I hate this... not only the alcohol, but being dressed in bed. I can practically see the germs from the street dancing inside my sheets, and he is drooling.
Just another day added to my sexual frustration, and here I was hoping to relieve myself after all those hours with Damien. After all those long hours, I changed into my pajamas and climbed into bed next to Harry. As if I want to sleep next to this pathetic drunk.
*The next day*
I got up, took a shower, and wore a white, long-sleeved shirt with a short, red pleated skirt, a yin-yang necklace, and 3-inch heels to match. I did my makeup, and I was ready to head out for work.
"Morning," I heard Harry's hungover ass say.
"Morning to you too," I responded nonchalantly.
"Oh wait, where were you last night?" he said.
"Working."
"You said you'd be home for dinner. I waited like a fool for hours," Harry said, sounding rather annoyed.
"I'm sorry, were you worried?"
"Of course I was," he responded.
"And in the midst of your worry, you came to the conclusion, 'let me drink; I'll find her tomorrow.'"
He rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I'm meeting the guys tonight."
"OK, whatever, bye," I replied and left the house.
*08:00 am*
I was typing away on my computer, busy filing spreadsheets, when Damien walked in. "You're here early," he said in a relaxed tone.
"Damien," I greeted enthusiastically. I realized my mistake when I saw him smiling. "I mean—"
"You finally succeeded! You called me Damien," he said with a smirk. "Kudos to you," he said and chuckled.
"I'm actually reviewing what we did last night. It was late; we could have made mistakes," I said, changing the subject. "That's what I'm here for. Come to my office," he said. I nodded and followed him in. "I was thinking."
"Yes, sir."
"You know this presentation inside and out. You know the numbers by heart, and you could surely persuade stakeholders with that confidence. So, you are coming with me to the Country Head Meeting."
"But sir... that's all the way in New York," I responded, feeling rather uneasy.
He sighed. "Look, Isabella, I've been losing focus lately. I've been really tired, and I need you there," he said, sounding fatigued.
"Okay, sir, I accept, but can you please tell me how long we will be out of town?"
"One week."
"One week... But sir, it's exam season and—" I was saying when he cut my sentence short.
"You can retake those exams. I said I need you there," he said calmly, but for some reason, it made me feel giddy.
"I will be there, Mr. Lancaster," I replied sweetly.
"Did you print those out?" he said, going back to his professional tone.
"Yes, let me go see if they're ready," I replied as I stood up. As I was walking out, I bumped into someone. "What the hell.... Mr. Lancaster."