The second Isabella left, Damien's fingers were already flying across his keyboard, his face a mask of cold fury. He didn't bother with the intercom; he dialled her direct line.
"Ms. Chambers," he said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble when she answered. "My office. Now."
He hung up. He didn't have to wait long. Laura Chambers swept in less than two minutes later, her face a carefully constructed mask of professional calm, but he could see the flicker of anxiety in her eyes. She closed the door softly behind her, the click a final, damning sound.
"Sir?" she asked, her posture rigid.
"I've had a report," Damien began, steepling his fingers, his gaze pinning her in place. "A rather detailed report. About you and Mr. Cole Estrada. In the archive room."
The colour drained from her face. Her composure, usually so unshakable, fractured for a second before she managed to pull it back together, but the damage was done. She looked down at her perfectly manicured hands.
"It's true, sir," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "Everything is true. I'm supposed to lead by example, and I've failed miserably. I understand if you have to terminate my employment."
Damien leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Ms. Chambers, I don't know how you're going to feel about this, but I have to ask." He let the silence hang for a moment. "What do you think about New York?"
Laura's head snapped up, her eyes wide with shock. That was not what she had been expecting. Not at all.
"Sir? I... I don't understand," she stammered.
"I can't keep you in the HR manager position here, but you'd still be in HR there" he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "But I understand if you have obligations here in Raleigh and can't just relocate..."
"Wait, really, sir?" she interrupted him, her voice suddenly filled with a desperate, almost frantic hope. "It's perfect... I mean, I need a fresh start. Thank you." The words tumbled out of her, a messy, grateful rush.
A flicker of something—satisfaction, maybe—crossed Damien's face. The fucking irony of it all. He was solving her problem by exiling her, just as he was struggling with his own complicated mess.
"It's settled then," he said, his voice cold and final.
Laura nodded, a wave of relief so potent it was almost visible washing over her. "Of course, sir. Thank you again." She turned and walked out, her back straight, her step a little lighter than when she'd come in.
Damien was left alone in the quiet of his office, the problem of Cole and Laura solved with cold, brutal efficiency. If only his own fucking life could be tied up so neatly.
__________________________________________________________________________________
*Isabella's POV*
That evening, I sat in bed after a long, hot shower, feeling clean but still restless. The house was too quiet without Jacob's chaotic energy bouncing off the walls. An idea, a sudden, selfish impulse, struck me. I turned on my bedside lamp, pulling my laptop onto my knees and opening FaceTime. I wanted to give him a full view, a little reminder of what he was missing.
His face popped up on my screen, a wide, instant smile that made my chest ache. "Hi, Jacob," I greeted, my voice softer than I intended.
"Sweetheart, you called," he said, his smile widening.
"I missed you," I admitted, scratching my neck, a nervous habit I couldn't seem to shake.
"You did?" he asked, his head tilting, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
"Yes, of course I did," I replied, a little too quickly.
"Wow," he said, a slow, teasing grin spreading across his face. "You call me and tell me you missed me first. Did something happen?"
"No, silly, I just missed you," I said softly.
"Really?" he asked, and I could see he was genuinely pleased.
I rolled my eyes, a fond smile tugging at my lips. "Why is that so difficult to believe? I miss your energy, you always hyped me up. I miss your contagious laugh, and I miss your dumb face when you pout like you're doing right now," I said with a soft giggle.
"Damn," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I hate that I'm not there, I'd kiss the shit outta you." The words, spoken with such genuine affection, made me laugh.
"I'm almost done with the finals," I stated, changing the subject slightly.
"That means you can come visit soon?" he asked, his eyes lighting up with hope, and I nodded.
"Jacob, your birthday is next month, right?" I asked, and he nodded. "I've been thinking and looking, and a history book will be kinda lame, I know you like cars but, well, I'm clearly broke. I have no idea what to get you," I confessed with a sigh.
He burst out laughing at my words, a deep, hearty laugh that was so fucking Jacob. "Really? Am I that hard to read?" he said, catching his breath. "I don't want any present money can buy. It's simple. You fly here, get inside my apartment, take off your clothes, and put on a giant ribbon." He bit his finger, his eyes dancing with mischief.
"I can't wait to unwrap you," he added, his voice dropping to a low, suggestive purr.
"Well, that's easy," I said, my own voice dropping to match his.
"I can only imagine... your curves," he said, his gaze heating up through the screen.
"Oh, Jacob," I laughed, shaking my head. He was an idiot. My idiot. And I fucking missed him like crazy.
After my call with Jacob, a weird mix of happiness and longing still buzzing under my skin, I went downstairs. The house was too quiet, too big without his chaotic energy filling up all the empty spaces. I found Damien in the living room, slumped on one of his ridiculously expensive couches, scrolling mindlessly on his phone while some reality show droned on from the giant TV he wasn't even watching.
"Damien, I need to talk to you," I said, my voice a little too tight, a little too nervous as I approached him.
He didn't look up at first, just kept swiping at his screen. "Is it about the HR thing? Because I really don't feel in talking about this, not at this hour," he sighed, his voice flat, already putting up a wall.
"No, it's not that," I said, taking a deep breath and gathering my courage. "Although, I don't believe you actually don't want to talk about work, you always do. In fact, I couldn't help but notice this pattern about you." I finally had his full attention, his dark eyes locking onto mine. "You either have sex with me or you're working. Haven't seen you watching TV anymore, you don't have hobbies. I've never seen you taking a vacation in two years. You don't have any friends, you don't go out, you don't do anything," I added, the words rushing out in a torrent of concern I'd been bottling up for weeks.
He scoffed, a defensive, harsh sound. "Don't pretend you're any different. You don't have any friends or go out either."
"I used to go out all the time, with my old roommates, but I got too busy," I shot back, my own defences rising. "Trust me, I like dancing and having fun. But school is killing me. But you, on the other hand..." I paused, my voice softening. "I'm sorry, Damien. I don't think it's healthy."
A heavy silence settled between us. "That's why I... uhm... I wanted to do something nice for you, since you... you know... took me to the Grand Canyon," I added, feeling suddenly awkward.
"I didn't take you there for you to owe me a favour," he retorted, his voice cold, like he was turning my gesture into a transaction.
"I don't mean it like that, Damien. You sure know how to make it sting," I countered, my frustration mounting. I reached into my pocket, "I got you an early birthday present."