“A lot of reasons.” He cleared a space on the edge of the cherry desk and we sat there, side by side.
“Tell me some.” I tipped my head onto his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t become surly and retreat now. Not yet. Not with me.
“My parents’ work didn’t involve me, so I don’t know why my every move had to be photographed. As a teenager, I had my first date chronicled in Teenplus Magazine. Right down to where I dropped the girl’s ice cream cone.”
“Ugh.” I could only imagine.
“Yeah, right. A laugh-fest to the rest of the world, but it was definitely not funny to a fifteen-year-old. Then, the girls started a competition to be my prom date. Not because they cared about being with me. They just wanted the magazine spread that came with being a Fraser son’s date.”
His muscles tensed, his jaw tightening. No matter how lightly he related the story, it was obvious the incident had bothered him. Deeply.
“It must be difficult not knowing if someone wants to be with you for your own sake or because of who you know.”
Damien snapped his fingers. “That’s it. In a nutshell. Tinsel Town B.S. You never knew who your real friends were.”
My chest squeezed tight for him. No wonder he’d thrived here with the farm owner, someone who’d helped him realize his potential. Plus the horses...
“That’s why you like the farm.” I nodded. “Animals are unbiased. They don’t judge. And I think they make much better decisions about who to trust than we do.”
I remembered how much time I’d spent in the barns as a kid. The dogs, the horses and the chickens all preferred me over Nina. Actually, the cows would have, too, but Nina never got close enough to let the bovine population make that distinction.
“I never thought about it like that, but...I guess.” His body language remained tense. “Maybe that is a bonus.”
His phone chimed. He picked it up with a speed that told me how ready he was to get out of this conversation. Turning on the screen, he read a message.
“Scotty’s pulling up in a minute. We need to be set to run, okay?” He pushed off the desk and moved to the window, carefully lifting the wooden blind enough to see outside. “Are you ready?”
I’d never be ready.
Because leaving this office put me one step closer to leaving Fraser Farm. And Damien.
“We’re going through that window.” He pointed toward one on the opposite wall from the door. “Run dead ahead and don’t look back. There will be a pickup truck with the lights off.”
“You’re coming with me, right?” I felt nervous as he double-checked his phone and peered carefully out the slit between the blinds again.
“I’m going to run interference.” He looked so stern. This was his surly side, the one I’d met that first day. “I’ll join Scotty out front to make sure these people need to know they’re treading on shaky ground being here. As the property owner, I can stall them longer than Scotty can.”
“I’m on my own.” I swallowed hard, hating the idea of running across the cold, dark grounds on my own. Knowing that this was goodbye.
“Don’t be ridiculous. The driver will take you back to the house. He has instructions to stick with you every second. Just wait for me there and we’ll figure out what to do next.”
I nodded, but I didn’t meet his gaze.
“Don’t leave until I get there.” He took me by the shoulders, probably guessing my plan. “You have to wait until we can talk about this.”
“We have talked about it.” I spoke softly now that we had the window open. I didn’t want any paparazzi to overhear us. “I’m not going to throw you back into the spotlight. I won’t do that to you, and I won’t do that to your business.”
I wanted Fraser Farm to be a success, and I knew you didn’t build a Thoroughbred dynasty with a reality TV actress as the face of your brand. My tacky, scandal-ridden image would be a blight on all his hard work.
His hands fell away from me and I felt the chill all the way to my toes.
“You can’t run every time things get tough.” His voice sounded cool, remote.
I felt my defenses rising fast, shielding me from the hurt I knew was coming, a hurt that no physical boundaries or distance were going to fix.
“This isn’t about me, Damien, and this isn’t about things getting difficult for me.” I’d lived through bad times. Fought through them. Emerged stronger.
I thought about my hard-won self-esteem, and the book I was writing, and all the ways I’d worked to heal myself.
“Then if you’re doing this for me, I’m telling you flat out—I don’t want you to go.”