DAMON

And Now

What the fuck?!

Heaving, I whip my suit jacket across the foyer of my penthouse, garnering a startled gasp from Josephine. She left! She just left? Who does she think she is? I am Damon fucking Cavanaugh, and I have never in my thirty-three years of living on this God-forsaken planet had a woman disregard me. Say no to me. Fucking dismiss me!

I'm out of practice. That must be the problem. That's the only logical explanation for whatever the hell it was that unfolded at Lux. Something's are not for sale. Hah. What a joke. She's a comedian. An alluring, tantalizing, intoxicating fucking comedian. She spoke to me like I was beneath her like I was just another greasy, groveling, generational-wealth simp. I should forget about her. Her sultry voice. Her lascivious lips. Her deep, secretive stare. And I should definitely forget about the fleeting moment in which our eyes locked, and I felt alive, for the first time in years.

"Damon, what is wrong?" Josephine skitters into the living room and picks up my jacket, her forehead creased with worry. "Did the meeting go bad? They won't sign?"

"Of course, they'll sign! Do I look like an idiot to you?" I bark, storming into the kitchen and grabbing a bottle of Perrier out of the fridge. I twist the cap and chug half the bottle before whipping my fuming head at Josie. "Well? Do I? Do I look like an idiot, Josephine?"

She blinks, fiddling with her rosary. "I—"

"Because she sure as hell treated me as one," I continue, pushing past Josie as I streamline toward the sectional and collapse down. "Worried you'll lose?" I mimic the vixen's stupidly seductive tone. "The audacity to speak to me like that! The client relations at that establishment have clearly taken a detrimental turn. I'm surprised Georgina isn't bankrupt by now."

"Ah..." Josephine hums, a wide grin stretching across her aging face. "Por fin."

I give her a deadpan glare. "You're smiling? I am clearly in distress and you are smiling?"

"Yes, mi ceilo, I am smiling—" Josephine sucks in a breath of relief as she waddles to the foot of the couch. She places her hand on my shoulder. "It has been many moons since you've shown this type of emotion."

"You are pleased that I am angry?" I ask, huffing like a fucking child. "How inappropriate."

Josie shrugs. "Yes, I am." She bends down, kissing my cheek. "It is better for you to be angry than to be void of all feelings. Plus—" She pats my head. "I sense a woman is at the root of your current attitude, which—" She grins even wider. "Is very pleasing indeed."

I swat her hand away. "She is not a woman." Sulking further into the couch, I mumble out, "She is the devil."

"Ay, ay, ay," Josie clicks her tongue, sighing. "The devil? Por qué? She did not want to go home with you? That now makes women devils?"

"I am not discussing this with you anymore," I grunt. "Don't you have laundry to wash or something?"

"Little shit." Josephine smacks me upside the head. "It's 2 a.m., I am going to sleep now. The only reason I stayed awake was to make sure you got home safe." She mumbles a couple of curses at me in Spanish as she walks to her room. "Dios ayúdame..."

"Fuck!" I swallow my pride and call out after the woman who raised me alongside my parents, "Lo siento, Josephine. I didn't mean—"

She whips around, fists planted on her hips. "I make your food, Damon. It would be wise to keep me happy, otherwise—" She shrugs. "Who knows what could happen?"

I blink at her. "Are you threatening to poison me?"

"Yes."

"Fair enough," I sigh. "I probably deserve it."

"Fear not." Her voice perks up to a warmer tone. "I forgive you, so you live to see another day."

I shoot her an animated thumbs-up. "Thanks!"

"Go to sleep, Damon," Josephine says as she walks away. "I think tonight you may finally be able to rest."

"Uh-huh," I hum, pulling out my cell phone and dialing Javier's number. He answers in a groggy voice. "I need something."

"How did the meeting go?" he asks, yawning. "I was not expecting an update until the morning."

"It was fine," I say. "They'll sign the contracts on Monday. Listen, I need—"

"They will?!" he squeals.

I roll my eyes. "Of course, they fucking will. I am deeply offended by your lack of faith in my ability to do my job."

"Damon, I—"

"Stop talking and listen." I close my eyes, taking a stabilizing breath. Everyone is out to piss me off today. "I need you to find someone for me. It is a top priority. Do you understand?"

"Find someone? Uh — Alright. Give me a second." Shuffling cracks through the phone. "What is their name?"

My jaw tightens. "That's what I need you to find."

"You don't know their name?" he asks warily.

"Javier."

"Right, umm... okay. Well, what do you know?"

"She's a dancer at Lux," I state, attempting to keep my tone level and not give Javier any more ammunition. "She goes by the name Luna Lush."

"A stripper? You want me to find you a stripper?" The suggestive undertones in his voice drum up a foreign burst of disdain in my chest. "Why didn't you ask Georgina? I'm sure she'd—"

"I tried," I grunt, reliving the embarrassment she bestowed on me upon my departure. Sorry, hun, I can't give you my girls' personal information. We've got rules here. "Just find her."

He chuckles. "Must have been some nice piece of ass if—"

"That's enough," I growl. "I don't need commentary. I need a name and an address."

"Fine," he says. "I'll get to it in the morning."

"First thing," I state, knee bouncing with anticipation for the truth. "Got it?"

"Mhmm," he mutters at my unusual request and hangs up.

He'll find her. He has to find her. If he doesn't... I freeze, listening to my own twisted thoughts. What is wrong with me? What the fuck am I doing? Why am I searching for a woman I don't even know?! Maybe it's sleep deprivation. Or the symptoms of self-isolation. Or maybe I've finally lost my fucking mind. I've lost everything else. Maybe it's the last thing He's trying to take from me.

Deafening silence surrounds me as I stare off into the black box of my television, my gaze floating to the framed photographs on the surrounding shelves. My throat dries as I stare at the last family portrait we took before that fated day. My father stands proudly in the center, with me on the right. My mother sits in front of us, her knees touching my sister's. Our family never smiled with our lips, we smiled with our eyes. Father said all men wear masks, but those masks seldom conceal one's eyes. That's where the truth lies. No matter the mask, the essence of a person is always present. All you need to do is look. To allow yourself to see behind the illusion.

A set of mystifying green eyes appears before me. Like a tattoo in my memory. I stare into those eyes, willing the illusion to shatter so I can seek out the truth. Damon. I don't blink. I don't look away. I can't look away. They're so familiar. So comforting. Like home. Damon. Who are you? Tell me! Fucking tell me! I keep staring, searching, hunting for something that I know is lost within them. Whatever is hidden, it gives me a sense of hope, a sense of wonder. I will find it. It's right there—

"Damon!"

Javier's voice calls my mind back into my body, and I snap my head toward him. Rays of soft light stream through the window, the blinds casting diagonal rows of shadows on the living room floor.

"What time is it?" I ask, disoriented, as I sit up straight on the couch.

"You didn't sleep." It's not a question. It hasn't been a question for a long time. Javier shakes his head and walks to the windows, opening the curtains and letting in the sunshine. "You need to shower now. The Li brothers requested a meeting. They want to go over the contract with you."

"We already—" Exhaustion washes over me as I stand up and lose my balance. Javier tries to stabilize me but I push him away. "I'm fine! I just need—"

"Josie made a fresh pot," Javier says, straggling behind me as I trudge toward the kitchen. "You need to shower."

"No, I need coffee," I grumble, pouring myself a cup until the rich brown liquid reaches the rim. Leaning against the island, I close my eyes. "Did you find what I asked for?"

"Yes," Javier says, hesitant. "But—"

Energy burst through me and I suddenly don't feel tired anymore. "Who is she?"

Javier gives me a conniving smile. "I have done my job, Damon. You must now do yours." He checks the time on his Rolex. "First the meeting."

My lip twitches from his insubordination. "I think it's time we have a talk, Javier," I say, pushing myself off the island. Stalking toward him, I keep my voice firm and my body restrained. "I understand that I've given you a lot of leeway recently and that you've taken on responsibilities outside the scope of what you were hired decades ago to do, which, if I remember correctly, was to assist my father in whatever it is he needed." Javier's brows narrow as he puffs out his chest in vain. Stupid old man. "The key word here is assist, Javier. As in, you're an assistant. My assistant." I cock my head. "So, no, Javier, you have not done your job quite yet. I asked you for a name..." Towering over him, I curl my hand around his collar and hiss, "What is her name?"

Javier swallows. "Emery Jones. She's a Private Equity Associate at CJ Piers."

"What?" Taken aback, my hand drops. Javier adjusts his tie as I rack my head around her daytime profession. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." He clears his throat, reaching for something in his breast pocket. He pulls out a sheet of paper and hands it to me. "It's all the information I could find." I frown at the limited details. "She uh— She doesn't have any social media presence. But that's her address." He points to the third line. "She lives in Connecticut."

I knew there was something strange about her. Something that didn't quite add up. It's still not adding up. How does a twenty-eight-year-old woman with a degree in economics become one of Georgina's most popular girls? And more importantly...why? It's always the why that creates chaos. It's the why that causes sleepless nights. When the why is revealed, so is the who. Her name means nothing. The who is not the answer. And I need an answer.

"Push the meeting," I state, grabbing a set of car keys from the table. "I'll be back in a few hours."

"Damon!" Javier calls out after me. "Where are you going?" I ignore him, grabbing a sports jacket from the closet and flinging it over my shoulder before calling the elevator. I slide on a pair of sunglasses, impatiently pressing the call button repeatedly. "Can't this wait?!" The doors open and I step inside. "Damon!"

"Isn't this what you wanted?" I ask as the elevator doors close. "For me to leave these four walls?"

Javier doesn't get another word in before I'm gone.