Tears And Rides

“I heard she moved in with you. That's new.” Amanda started, her eyes fixed on Damon.

“And?” He asked, his voice a low, icy growl of irritation.

Amanda's lips curved into a disbelieving smirk. “Just months ago, you wouldn't return her calls, and now she's moved in with you. You honestly expect my mother to believe there’s nothing going on?”

“The last time I checked, I didn't make you or your mother a promise. I don’t believe we're close enough for that.”

Amanda let out a short, hollow laugh. “You're right. But I do believe it’s common decency to inform us of new developments.” She added, her smile one Damon had come to hate.

He slammed his foot on the brakes, jerking Amanda forward. Her eyes widened in horror, bracing herself against the dashboard as she glared at him.

“What was that for?!”

“This is as far as I go.” His eyes met hers, stern and unyielding. “Get out of my car.”

“But my driver isn't here! How do you expect me to get home?”

“The same way you came.” He replied simply.

She scoffed. “You're joking, right? There's no way for me to…”

“Do I look like I am?” He asked, eyes narrowed and hands clenched tight around the steering wheel.

Amanda’s jaw tightened. She unbuckled her seatbelt, she stepped out of the car, fist clenched.

“And tell your mother the deal is off. If she has anything to say, she'll have to meet me herself.”

Before Amanda could counter, he was gone, his car speeding past her in an instant. She let out an eerie scream, uncaring of who might be watching. Hands shaking with rage, she fumbled in her purse. He had never glared at her like that before.

Not once! Not even when she’d openly flirted with him!

She snatched up her phone and dialed her driver's number. “Get your sorry ass down here now!”

“Yes, young miss.”

Amanda slid the phone away from her ear, her grip around her purse and phone together as she watched Damon's car disappear up the highway.

“I'm going to make you regret this, Damon! I promise, I'll make you regret this!” she gritted under her breath.

***

Lunch went by in a blur for Naomi; she couldn't stomach anything from the canteen. All she wanted was for the day to be done. As soon as the alarm went off, Naomi was out the door, heading home. If she could get there before he did, she wouldn't have to deal with him. She'd pretend to be asleep.

The elevator doors swung open to the parking lot. Patrick stood waiting.

He sighed and gave Naomi a slight bow. “Mr. Damon said you should join him for his ride home.”

Naomi glanced behind him to see Damon in the passenger's seat, his eyes fixed on his tablet, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Her stomach tightened with a familiar mix of anger and dread. She didn't want to speak to him, nor did she want to be cooped up in a car with him.

“Tell him I’m not interested. I’ll be fine on my own.”

Naomi stepped aside, but Patrick blocked her path, a look of panic in his eyes. “Please, madam.” He pleaded, glancing over his shoulder. “I believe he has something important to tell you.”

Naomi's lips twisted into a humorless smile. He hadn't had the guts to call her for years, and now he was apparently close enough with Amanda to offer her rides? “Of course he does!”

She marched down to the car and settled next to Damon in silence, her body angled away from him, leaning towards the window.

“How well do you know Amanda?”

His question made her turn towards him slowly, brows arched. His attention remained fixed on his screen, as if his question was meant to be casual.

“Excuse me?”

“How well do you know her?” He repeated, earning a sharp scoff from her.

“Woah. Why? You want to know if she's interested in you? I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”

Damon stiffened, his eyes flicking to Naomi, a flicker of confusion.

“What?”

“You offered me a ride to ask about my cousin? This is ridiculous. Patrick, stop this car.”

“Unless you already have a better job offer…” Damon glanced at Patrick through the rear-view mirror. “Keep driving.”

Patrick swallowed, wishing he wasn't caught in the middle. “I’ll slide up the partition window…” He pushed the button, and soon, he could hear neither of them, much to his relief.

“What is this about?” Damon asked, his voice calm.

“Forget it.” She snapped.

“I can’t. Not when you're throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m throwing a tantrum? Seriously? My apologies for irritating you, sir. I’ll be on my best behavior from now on!”

Damon set his tablet aside, his eyes narrowed on her. What the hell was going on in her head?

The car pulled over, and Naomi got out in an instant, storming into the house and ignoring almost all the greetings from the staff. Damon rolled up his sleeves, covering the distance between them in four long strides. His hand clamped around her arm, spinning her towards him.

“What the hell is going on? A simple question shouldn't…”

His heart sank when he saw her face. Her eyes were swollen and red, her cheeks flushed, and her lips quivering. Tears rolled down her chin as she stared into his eyes.

“Just let me go. Please.”

She stammered, desperate to get away from him and everyone else. She felt like crap, letting him see her cry over something so little.

“Naomi…”

Naomi yanked her arm away from him and ran up the stairs, wiping her face with the back of her hand. Damon took a step on the stairs and paused.

“Sir? You should go after her and…” Patrick started, his face lined with worry as he glanced up the stairs and back at Damon.

Damon shook his head. “Maybe it’s better this way.”