Chapter 2
Damien
earlier today
''Finn, do you really think this is a good idea?'' I ask him, taking a sip of my beer. We've been sitting together for about an hour, going over the details for tonight.
I still can't believe how this happened. I've never really considered sharing my paintings with the public, but here I am, planning my first gallery opening.
I met Finn two years ago when I opened my third club in New York. He handled the PR and happened to see one of my paintings in my office. One thing led to another, and now he's determined to convince me that selling my paintings is a great idea. Truth be told, I never painted them with the intention of making money someday. It was more of a way to de-stress after long hours at the club, a way to escape and find solace.
In all the time I've known Finn, he's told me numerous stories about his best friend Noelle. Yet, I've never had the chance to meet her. That's about to change tonight.
However, I have reservations about this meeting. Not because I don't think I'll like her. It's quite the opposite, actually. I've never heard someone speak so highly of another person. He loves her, there's no doubt about it.
I believe him when he says she's amazing. And to top it all off, she's stunningly attractive. I mean, really, really attractive. She's the kind of person you have wet dreams about. Finn once showed me some pictures of her on his phone, and let's just say it took a great deal of self-control not to reveal what I truly thought when I saw her in a barely-there bikini at the beach.
To put it simply, I found myself developing a small crush on her just from Finn's stories.
I don't understand why I always seem to attract shallow individuals who lack substance. I can't complain about the attention they give me without me even saying a word, but their vapid conversations, their constant attempts to flirt whenever they see me, their lack of self-respect as they throw themselves at me—it all becomes tiresome and unfulfilling.
It's become monotonous.
A quick fuck here and there may temporarily satisfy a man's desires, but anything more than that? Not with any woman I've encountered so far.
Honestly, I don't know what scares me more—finding out that Noelle is actually the incredible woman Finn has painted in my mind, or discovering that she's just like all the others.
Either way, it would ruin the friendship Finn and I have built over the years.
''Stop being such a coward. You're 25 years old—grow a backbone. Tonight's the night. I'm going to tell her half an hour before we have to leave that I can't make it, but she still has to go because she's already dressed up. So she'll go alone, and then you'll show up, all artsy and well-mannered, and you'll fall in love and live happily ever after. I'm a genius, and you can thank me later. Maybe name your firstborn after me or something.'' He grins at me mischievously.
Yep, he's completely lost it. I bet she won't even show up, or if she does, she'll be so angry that she won't talk to anyone.
''You're insane, you know that, right? Why would you even think we're a good match? You know me, you know her? This won't work. Besides, what do you think will happen if she finds out we know each other? What if she discovers you planned all of this?''
He pauses for a moment, then bursts into laughter.
''From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you two were destined to be together.'' Yes, he's definitely gone off the deep end.
I give him a perplexed look, and he continues.
''You'll see. I just know it, and now is the perfect time. And she won't find out because we're not going to tell her.''
Arguing with crazy people is pointless, so I continue drinking my beer, wishing this day would be over already.
I'm a wreck, and I wish it were simply due to nerves from seeing all these people gathered around my paintings, but I hate to admit it: it's because of her.
I just received a text from Finn saying he spoke to her and she's on her way here.
Maybe I'll just tell him I didn't see her?
As I press the button for the top floor, the elevator doors are about to close when a woman's hand slips in between to prevent them from shutting completely.
The doors begin to reopen, revealing the woman standing there.
Legs.
Long pale naked legs.
That's the first thing I see.
She's not facing me. Her delicate, unpolished fingers are busy pulling down her short black dress. Her long brown hair cascades over one of her shoulders, concealing her face.
She's stunning. No, she's absolutely breathtaking. Damn.
I need to see her face.
So I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
''Are you getting in or did you just stop the elevator to give me a little show?'' I mentally kick myself.
Why did I say that?
She freezes for a moment, still in her half-motion. I press my lips together to stifle a laugh.
Then she straightens up and steps inside without glancing at me.
And I still can't get a proper look at her face.
Damn it.
One thing is certain—she has an incredible body. Tall and slender, her leather jacket adds a touch of toughness to her undeniable sex appeal.
I bet that dress accentuates her fantastic ass.
She's about to press the button for the top floor when she hesitates.
Yes, you're going to ride all the way up with me.
As if she can sense my inner turmoil, she turns around.
Finally, she's facing me.
There goes my plan to ignore her tonight.
It's her.
Well, shit.
I wish I could say I haven't fantasized about her at all, but that would be a lie. She looks even more incredible in person. It's as if those pictures I saw of her couldn't capture her true beauty.
They failed to do her justice. Not even close.
She is breathtaking, but I feel like even those words fall short.
Her features are otherworldly. Her perfectly shaped, red plum lips and sharp cheekbones are a sight to behold. Her petite, flawless nose complements her eyes...
If eyes could speak, hers would tell a million stories.
Where did this come from?
What am I? A poet?
I press my lips tightly together to prevent myself from saying anything foolish.
Her eyes are a mesmerizing emerald green, framed by the longest, undoubtedly natural eyelashes.
Okay, that didn't sound particularly manly either... But damn it, they're perfect. She's fucking perfect.
And her body!
Oh, dear Lord, have mercy.
Her breasts are a handful, and that's saying something—I have large hands.
With her entire body facing me, I have a better view of what lies beneath her thick jacket. She has a slender waist, and the dress hugs every curve perfectly. It accentuates her hips, the swell of her breasts, and her flat stomach.
I have to resist the urge to bang my head against the elevator door.
Get it together, she's just a woman for Christ's sake.
As I look at her again, I realize I'm not the only one affected by the other's presence.
She's checking me out. Her eyes fixated on my body, slowly tracing every inch of my form. Her cheeks turn pink.
She shifts uncomfortably and crosses her thighs.
Oh, hell, now she's biting her lip.
Does she even realize what she's doing to me?
I need to put an end to this before we both lose control.
''Enjoying the view?'' I'm such an asshole, but I had to say something.
Her eyes snap back up, locking with mine. Her entire demeanor shifts in a nanosecond.
"Excuse me? You were the one staring at me."
I didn't expect that. Not at all.
I thought she would blush even more and start fumbling around. Maybe start playing with her hair a bit.
Flirt, make a move, or just something. But not this.
"Oh, is that so?" I stupidly ask.
And then, way too soon, the doors begin to open.
Shit, we're here.
"Yes, next time try to be a little less obvious." Did she really just say that? Absolutely incredible.
I need her to say more. I need more time.
But before I can even begin to think of anything else to say, she turns around and storms off.
Wow.
That was one hell of an intense ride up.
I throw my head back and laugh. I'm going insane.
I like her.
Before the doors close again, I remember I need to get out of here too, so I take a step outside, preparing myself for what's about to unfold.
My team did a great job here. There are loads of people—politicians, musicians, other artists, and just generally the kind of people you'd want at an event like this.
I exchange greetings and express gratitude, taking in everything around me.
I wish I could fully focus on the actual event because it's amazing. I'm thrilled that everything seems to be going smoothly, but I just can't seem to concentrate.
Where is she?
The longing I feel for her... The magnetic pull towards her... It's driving me insane.
I turn the corner and spot her at the bar, and I can't help but smile.
She's effortlessly beautiful, to the point where it hurts my heart.
I see beautiful women every day, models, singers, actresses... and I've slept with dozens of them, but I can't recall any of them making me feel like this just by looking at them.
The way she moves. The way she carries herself—strong, confident, and sexy. And that sassy mouth of hers.
The way she smiles.
Wait, she looks far from smiling right now. She appears rather pissed off.
I move closer to eavesdrop on her conversation with the waiter.
"You want to think about that again? I live nearby. We could go there after I finish working. How about moving the afterparty to my place? What do you think, Baby?"
I clench my hands into fists. I'm tempted to break that guy's face.
I glance at her to check if she's okay, but all I see is pure arrogance mixed with anger.
"Oh, believe me, I'm very sure! So, will you get me my drink or should I have a little chat with your boss? I wonder what he thinks about his employees harassing female guests."
That woman is unbelievable. I'm speechless, impressed, and so turned on that I need a minute to process it all.
She didn't need me to come to her rescue.
Maybe she's too kind to complain to his boss about him, but I certainly am not.
I swiftly pull out my phone and text Michael, the owner of the catering service for tonight, demanding that this guy be fired.
He doesn't even ask why because he knows I have my reasons. And he knows he'd lose his biggest client if he didn't comply.
Noelle takes her drink without even looking at the guy and heads towards the paintings.
I stare at her, ready to follow, when someone touches my shoulder.
"Hey, Mister Big and Important. How's your night? Looks like everyone loves it."
I roll my eyes at her attempt to sound seductive. I don't understand why some girls think talking like a child is sexy.
Speaking of dimwits.
"Nora, please get off me. I told you we're done. Why are you even here?"
I sound like an asshole, but that woman is worse than herpes. You just can't get rid of her.
Maybe it's my fault for continuing to sleep with her.
But she was fun, for a while at least. Three weeks ago, I finally had enough after catching her flushing her birth control pill down the toilet. God only knows what her plans were.
She pouts and strokes my arm, pressing her chest against me. Not one bit affected by my cruel words.
"Baby! I know you want me."
I cringe. Hell, no.
I shake off her hand, completely ignoring her, and walk away, trying to find Noelle.
But I can't take two steps without someone else stopping me. I talk to what feels like 200 more people, some mentioning Noelle. It bothers me more than it should.
Having a 50-year-old bald dude ask me if I've seen that hot chick Noelle Grimes fills me with rage.
That damn woman.
I need to find her.