Tattooed Emotions Part 3

I gave him a peculiar look. "Cale, you were right there with me. Since you know him better than I do, shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"You know what I mean." He chuckled and nonchalantly waved a hand at me. "When you went outside, did he tell you he'd let you take over his accounts?"

"He did-"

"That's great!" Cale clapped loudly.

I dreaded my upcoming conversation with my partner, but I needed to clear the air.

"I declined accepting his account," I exhaled.

Eyes wide, Cale threw his hands up to the sides of his face and ran his fingers through his hair with his mouth hanging open. "You what?" he exclaimed. "He's our top client, Raelyn. Why did you decline?"

"He's your client, Cale," I stated evenly, "and it needs to stay that way."

His head jerked back on his shoulders. "Where is this coming from? What did Damien say to you outside?"

"He didn't say anything to me."

"Then, why did you refuse to work with him?"

"I don't know," I murmured with a shrug of my shoulders, suddenly unsure of myself. Whatever was going on between Damien and Cale had to be about more than Cale's former excuse of trying to secure Bryson Hendricks's account, so I added, "It felt like the two of you had unfinished business, and I didn't want to be caught up in it."

Cale frowned. "Why would you think that?"

"I just did." I crossed my hands in front of myself and fiddled with my fingers. "You both seemed uncomfortable in the conference room."

Cale unleashed a deep breath and stepped forward. "I can a.s.sure you that it's nothing, Raelyn."

"It didn't feel that way," I admitted to my partner and friend.

"Damien is..." Cale trailed off for a moment and looped his thumbs into the front pockets of his slacks, appearing sad. "A complicated man. He was one of my closest friends...until he sided with Sage in our divorce."

"Oh." I wanted to ask why Damien had done that to Cale if they were friends, but it was none of my business, and I wasn't someone who pried. It still didn't make me feel comfortable to take on Damien as a client. In fact, it made me more hesitant.

"You're still not going to represent Damien, are you?" Cale queried, as if reading my mind.

"No." I smiled apologetically. "It doesn't feel like the right thing to do."

He released a long sigh. "Okay. I'll talk to him tomorrow and see if we can work out our differences."

"Thank you," I said, relieved, yet wondering what Cale meant by his and Damien's differences.

Cale acknowledged me with a short nod and walked out of my office. All the while, I didn't feel like I'd gained any closure on the subject at hand.

No, I had a feeling this was just the beginning of Damien Heathman.

By noon, I'd given myself a nasty paper cut, spilled coffee on my blouse, and had an excruciatingly painful headache that refused to budge. It was not my day, to say the least.

On my way back from the break room, I prayed coffee cup number two would help ease the profuse throbbing at my temples as I rounded the corner en route to my office where I nearly collided with Kate.

"Whoa! Careful there." Kate jumped back on a squeal and defensively held her hands in front of herself. "I was just on my way to find you, but I don't want to get burned." She laughed teasingly.

I steadied the mug of hot liquid in my hand. "I'm so sorry, Kate!" I offered sincerely. I lifted my opposing hand to rub my temple from her loud shriek.

Kate set her hand on my arm and a.s.sessed my facial features with a worried expression. "Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Thank you." I smiled. "You were looking for me?"

"Oh, yes!" She handed a yellow stationery note to me. "Mr. Heathman is on hold on line two for you."

I grabbed the paper and released a troubled sigh. Apparently, Damien Heathman was not going to be easy to get rid of, as I'd previously hoped.

"Can you tell him I'm busy and take a message?" I asked as the two of us began a leisurely pace toward my office, pa.s.sing the four cubicles that lined the west wall.

Kate laughed under her breath and gave me a humorous look. "He said you might say that, and he told me to tell you that it's urgent."

With a shake of my head, I rolled my eyes in exasperation. Of course, Damien Heathman would think his phone call was urgent, and he wasn't going to make avoiding him easy on me.

"I promise you, it's not," I told her. "Please take a message and forward it to Cale."

"I sure will, Ms. Jennings. He will be out of the office all afternoon, but I will make sure he sees it first thing in the morning."

"Oh." I thoughtfully raised my brows, having had no idea that Cale was going to be missing this afternoon. I must have s.p.a.ced that detail with being off-kilter today.

"Anything I can get for you before I head out for lunch?" Kate asked kindly. We arrived at my office where Kate leaned against the doorjamb and grinned. "I'm meeting Noah at Jason's Deli for sandwiches."

Noah was her boyfriend of two years. They'd just recently moved in together.

"No, thank you." I mirrored her expression. "But you two have fun."

"Always." She winked. "I'll be back in an hour."

Once Kate was gone, I strolled into my office where I shut the door behind me and went to sit at my desk. Reclining back in my chair, I closed my eyes in hopes that it would give me some sort of relief from the intense pressure in my head. I hadn't had a headache like this since I was sick. A headache and light dizziness were where it had all begun with my tumor. And just the thought of having one now nearly made my body run cold with unimaginable fear.

I tried to remind myself that normal healthy people had headaches all the time, and that was all this was. I was fine. There was no need to freak out over a simple headache that was challenging my workday.

Rolling on the wheels of my chair, I scooted to the side of my desk to grab my lunch tote where I pulled out my ham sandwich and removed it from the clear Ziploc bag. It wasn't the healthiest of meals, but I'd included an apple, banana, and water in hopes that my other three choices would make up for the processed meat and cheese.

My phone vibrated and rattled against my oak desk as I took a bite of my sandwich. I retrieved it and saw I had a new text message.

Damien: You can't ignore me forever.

I wanted to laugh, but my head hurt too badly, and I was irritated that he'd programmed his name and number into my cell. I couldn't resist the urge to text him back while chewing my food.

Me: Oh, yes, I can.

Maybe my comeback was a bit harsh, but my headache was clearly ruling me today. Plus, I wouldn't tolerate his persistence.

His incoming response was quick.

Damien: I'll let you ignore me for another eight hours, and that's only because I'm busy with meetings all afternoon. Then, you're all mine.

Oh, he is definitely crazy...and delusional.

When I felt better, I had every intention of giving this man a piece of my mind. For now, I'd have to put him straight with just a text.

Me: I belong to NO ONE, and I never will.

There. I told him. I grinned to myself as I swapped what was left of my sandwich for the apple.

Damien: We'll see.

I practically choked on my food. This man was out of his mind. I glared at my screen as my fingers rapidly moved across it.

Me: Trust me. You won't. I have a ma.s.sive headache from h.e.l.l, so please go away. Call Cale, so you guys can work things out.

Damien: Never underestimate my determination. Migraine?

Oh, the man is going to make me crazy.

Me: Yes. PLEASE CALL CALE. Good-bye, Damien.

I honestly hadn't intended on being so rude toward him, but I was that desperate for him to leave me alone. I liked to believe I lived my life in a small bubble, one where no one could hurt me again-not even a powerful, s.e.xy CEO.

After lunch, I dived into the first file on my desk and started a.n.a.lyzing numbers with a fresh spreadsheet on my computer screen. It was a large account with a new client, Asher Montana. He was the owner of a new food chain, and he planned to open his sixth location by fall. It was my job to a.s.sess his a.s.sets and determine if his franchise was ready for another expansion.

Asher's profit margins were impeccable. His costs were low, and he gave his costumers a great product for their buck.

My headache was making it difficult to work, but I refused to be deterred from my task at hand as I double-checked the totals of each food chain.

A knock sounded at my door, grabbing my attention. I lifted my head and said, "Come in."

Kate strolled into the room with her heels lightly tapping against the hardwood floors. A cheery expression beamed across her slightly round face.

My eyes quickly settled on the large bouquet of white calla lilies in the cream-colored vase in her hands as she informed me, "I have a delivery for you."

"Uh..." I trailed off, stunned into silence.

Kate came to set the arrangement down in between the stacks of files on my desk.

"They're beautiful," Kate said in awe. Her eyes sparkled as she appeared to be gauging me.

I had no words.

"Aren't you going to open the card?"

I let my eyes sweep over the flowers again, noting a small white envelope clipped on a clear plastic stick in the center. My eyes widened slightly at seeing my name neatly printed in what could only be a man's handwriting. A nervous breath escaped my lungs as I instinctively knew whom it was from.

With shaky fingers, I reached forward for the envelope and slowly opened it. The crinkling noise of a package caught me by surprise. It was a single dosage of Excedrin Migraine. I set it down on my desk before retrieving the note card.

I HOPE THIS MAKES YOUR DAY BETTER.

LOOKING FORWARD TO TONIGHT.

DAMIEN.

I grinned like an idiot and read the card a second and then a third time, completely touched by his gesture. No one had ever bought me flowers before-not even Nick, my ex-fiance.

"So," Kate said in a delighted purr, breaking into my daydream, "are you going to tell me the story here with the s.e.xy Mr. Heathman, or should I just make up my own?"

I smiled softly at the card once more before realizing that Damien's gesture didn't make a difference in my beliefs. There would be no dating in my future. Sometimes, the truth hurt, but I had no interest in subjecting myself to another inevitable heartbreak. I'd learned my lesson in the hardest of ways by being left alone in the most trying time of my life. It was almost more painful than the chemo itself, and I had no desire to ever feel such agonizing heartache again.

"There's no story," I murmured, staring at Damien's signature one last time before neatly tucking the note back into the envelope.

Kate snorted, "Uh-huh. That's what every girl says right before a man comes in and sweeps her off her feet."

Maybe that sentiment was true for some women, but it wasn't the case for the rest of us. Apprehending Kate was happily head over heels in love, I kept that tidbit to myself and lightly quipped, "You watch too many romantic movies, Kate."

"Nah, I'm not much for movies," she drawled and then grinned. "I have it bad for books."

"I can see that." I laughed.

"Well, if you ever need to talk about hot men and them sending you flowers, know that I'm always here." Kate smiled down at me.

"Thank you."

"Anytime." Kate winked. With a wave of her hand, she spun on her heels and headed for the door. "See you later."

It wasn't until after Kate had left that it dawned on me that I had been methodically rubbing my thumb back and forth over the white envelope still in my hand. Scooting my chair over to the garbage can near my desk, I bit my lip in deliberation as I contemplated throwing away Damien's card. To keep it felt like I would be letting Damien in, and the mere thought made me uncomfortable and vulnerable, so I tossed the paper in the trash, as if it were on fire.

I slid my chair to its former position and took in the package of Excedrin where I was reminded of my tenacious headache. Desperate for any kind of relief, I ripped open the plastic wrapper, grabbed my water bottle, and downed the two pills.

Guilt tore at my consciousness.

I'd never been on the receiving end of such a selfless, considerate gesture from a man before, and it was wreaking havoc on my mind. I glanced to my left, catching the corner rim of the trash. It taunted me for being so dismissive of Damien's sentiment. I didn't want to feel anything, but d.a.m.n it, I did.

I quickly wheeled myself to the garbage bin and pulled the envelope out. Opening the second drawer of my desk, I tossed the card inside before slamming it shut.

There. I let out a deep breath. Out of sight, out of mind.

To distract myself from a certain steamy CEO that was a hazard to my armor, I emailed Asher Montana to schedule our next conference meeting to go over my findings.

Over the next several hours, I debated on whether or not to send Damien a thank-you text for relieving me of my migraine, and I also made a mental note to stock up on some pain reliever on the way home just in case. I was supposed to notify my oncologist right away if I had any headaches. This was the first one I'd had since I'd been in remission, so I chalked it up to stress from my heavy workload.

It was a quarter after six by the time I finished the urgent stack of files on my desk. The remaining three accounts that needed my attention were going home with me tonight for a work date, so I clutched each of them against my chest where I was quickly reminded that I had yet to replace my broken briefcase. Then, I grabbed my purse before heading out.

I was surprised to see Kate still at the front desk. The office had closed at five.