Striding down the sidewalk, I take another sip of my iced coffee in my hand as horns honk in the background through the streets of downtown L.A. As much as I can, I try to walk to and from lunch to offset the calories I take in each day, and having lunch outside of my office is important to me so that I get to soak in the California sunshine. I learned early on in my job from other senior executives that if I didn’t take time for myself each day, I would end up resenting my job, and that’s the last thing I want to do.
I love my job.
Working for a woman’s magazine has allowed me to give a voice to the everyday issues women deal with—from society, from ourselves, and from men. We celebrate women who are making waves in business, following their dreams, and living in each and every phase of their lives. Furthermore, we provide a place to present fact over fiction and hard-hitting topics of discussion that are hot in the market right now.
My job has made me feel more confident in who I am and what I want, but I wish that my lack of a man in my life didn’t make me question that. It’s funny how as a woman, you can feel like you have everything together in one aspect of your life, and yet still feel that you’re failing in another. And then there’s days where you feel like nothing you’re doing is good enough, despite everything you’ve been able to accomplish so far. That feeling—it’s the one hold my mother has over me, and now because of Damien, I’m intent on taking it back. The only person that should have the power to make me feel inferior is myself, even though I have nothing to feel inferior about. Being a woman is really tough sometimes because of that voice in our heads that never shuts up. Sometimes she’s our biggest cheerleader, and other times she’s our worst enemy.
And I know it sounds hypocritical that I’m using Damien and lying to my mom to deal with this problem, but sometimes people need a little smoke and mirrors so they can leave you alone. My mother wants to believe what she sees, so I’m giving her something to appease her while appeasing myself in the process. Sounds like a win-win to me.
As I walk down the sidewalk, I take a turn I normally wouldn’t because I’m headed somewhere I’ve never been before. I see the sign for Goldstein Advertising up on my left, the tall building stretching up into the sky with glassy windows reflecting the sunlight. Now that I know that Damien works here, my mind is conjuring up many ideas about who he is compared to the version of him that I knew.
If the man was willing to lie for his job, he must be feeling some sort of pressure. Apparently, he’s not coming in first place around here all the time as well, and deep down, I love that—because at that moment Friday night where he admitted to making up a fake girlfriend to get ahead—he seemed human to me for the first time. Not just this guy that I hated with every fiber of my being years ago, but a person who struggles just like everyone else with inferiority.
Knowing that the dinner with his boss is this Friday, he sent me a text Sunday afternoon, asking if I would be willing to stop by his office sometime this week to make an impromptu visit and show my face, laying the foundation of our relationship.
When I was in high school, I played the lead role in every play I could. I know that understanding the other characters in the show is just as important as knowing my own role. So with the intent to do a little research and hold up my end of this deal, I open the door to the lobby of Damien’s building and take the elevator to the level where I know the show must begin.
Stepping out onto the tile floor, I see the Goldstein logo hanging proudly on the wall to my left and a receptionist desk directly in front of me, very similar to how Revision looks when you arrive on our floor. White floors and black décor give the place a classy look without looking too gaudy. It’s stylish and a good first impression to potential clients.
With purpose, I walk to the main receptionist and wait for her to acknowledge me since I can see she’s on the phone.
“Hi, there. How can I help you?”
“I’m here to see Damien Shaw.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but I’m his girlfriend and I’m here to surprise him.” Good job, Charlotte. You were able to say those words without the threat of puking.
“Damien has a girlfriend?” she asked, clearly astonished, further supporting his claims about his boss not believing him to be the dating type because apparently others feel the same way.
“Yeah, I locked him down a few months ago. It wasn’t easy, but it’s always rewarding when you can be the one to tame a guy, am I right?”
Public service announcement, ladies: Don’t ever go after a guy with the intent to be the exception for him. You are not the one that gets to decide that. He is. And if you keep pursuing him and he doesn’t want to commit, you’re the only person who looks like an idiot in that situation for going after a man that clearly doesn’t want to be the guy you need him to be.
“Ugh, yes. I hate when they can’t figure out that you are the answer to all of their problems, you know?” she asks, smacking her gum. The girl has to be twenty-two, fresh out of college. Ah, to be young and completely naïve about men still.
No thank you.
“Well, Damien and I actually knew each other as kids. He’s definitely grown up a bit since then because believe me, he never would have had a chance with me back then.” I wink at her, but deep down, I wonder if anything I’ve said about Damien is true. From what I’ve seen so far, Damien still seems to be the boy with something to prove. But honestly, don’t we all have something to prove to someone?
“Gah! I love that. Childhood sweethearts.” She clasps her hands against her chest.
“Something like that. So can you tell me where to go? I’ve never actually been here, but I just couldn’t go another minute without seeing him.” Oh, wait…there’s the bile I was waiting for earlier.
“Of course.” She pushes back in her chair and then stands. “Go straight ahead until you hit the second hall on your left. Turn down that one and then he’s the third door on the right.”
“Thank you so much.” I grab my coffee and the coffee I grabbed for Damien and head in the direction she said. As I walk through the floor, I can feel eyes all over me, curiosity filtering out into the air. It may also be because I wore my Calvin Klein dark gray dress that I always feel like a million bucks in. The confidence a certain article of clothing does for a woman is something you can’t put a price on, especially when you’re walking into a nerve-wracking situation.
Taking in a shaky breath, I arrive at Damien’s office and knock on the door, listening to a muffled conversation on the other side. But when he answers the door, the view of him standing there in his dark gray suit with the L.A. skyline behind him has saliva pooling in my mouth in an instant.
Every time I see him, my body reacts stronger than the last time. There is something about a man in a suit that makes my vagina wake up and summon every hormone in my body. Although, given how long it’s been since I’ve been with a man, it has to be purely coincidental that Damien is making that happen—right?
“Hi,” I say a little more breathlessly than I intended.
“Charlotte.” The smile on his face is bigger than I’ve ever seen it, which makes me wonder if it’s genuine or not. But then my eyes shift behind him where I see two other men rise from their spots on the couch and begin to approach me. “What a surprise, babe. What are you doing here?” Damien asks enthusiastically, signaling with his voice that this is a time to get into character.
“Well, I was in the neighborhood and stopped at that coffee shop we love, so I decided to bring you a little afternoon pick-me-up.”
“Aw, thanks, sweet pea.” He winks as he takes the coffee from me and then leans into my ear.
“I should have slipped something in your drink,” I whisper as I wrap an arm around his neck at the same time his hand falls to my waist.
“How do I know that you didn’t?” he mumbles back in a low whisper.
“Guess you’ll have to take a sip and find out.”
When Damien releases me, I smile sweetly up at him before directing my attention to his associates. “I’m so sorry. I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”
“We were actually just about done, but I’m glad that we were running a little behind so I had the chance to meet you.” The shortest of the three of them moves toward me with his hand outstretched. “I’m Dave, Damien’s boss.”
“Oh, hello. I’ve heard so much about you,” I lie.
“All good things, I hope,” he teases as he casts a glance at Damien and then back to me. “Although I can’t say the same about you. Seems Damien has been keeping you a secret.”
“Oh, well, that was my idea actually. We sort of have a history and I was adamant about figuring out where this was going before telling people.” I reach up and pinch his cheek. “Good to know he followed directions.”
“Believe me, the last thing I want to do is piss you off, sweet pea.”
I clench my teeth at him while Dave laughs at us from the side. “Sounds about right. If your woman is happy, everything else will fall into place, Damien. Don’t ever forget that.”
“I’m learning that fact very quickly.”
“I wish I had more time to chat, but duty calls. Charlotte, it was lovely to meet you,” Dave says, reaching for my hand once more. “I look forward to Friday when I can introduce you to my wife, and you can tell me more about how Damien locked down a beautiful woman such as you.”
“Oh, he was very analytical in his pursuit of me, I assure you.”
Dave chuckles. “When a man sees something he wants, he’ll always go after it. Nice work today, gentleman. I’ll see you later.”
The three of us watch Dave leave and the other man who hasn’t introduced himself yet shuts the door behind him, blowing out a breath as he leans his back against it. “Holy shit. I was holding my breath the entire time.”
“Relax, Jeffrey. I told you Charlotte wouldn’t let us down,” Damien replies, setting the coffee down on his desk after he walks away from me.
“Jeffrey? I had a massage therapist named Jeffrey last week. You don’t happen to moonlight as one in your spare time, do you?”
Jeffrey’s eyes grow big as he slides his gaze over to Damien and then back to me. “Nope. Never rubbed anyone down in my life.”
Damien clears his throat. “No, Jeffrey here is my right-hand man and the other half of my team up for the promotion that we want,” he says while shuffling papers around his desk. “He also knows about our arrangement, Charlotte, so no need to put on a show anymore.”