“I wasn't,” I deny. “Okay fine, I was a little. But you don't have to tell me anything. I don’t mean to put you in an awkward situation.”
He chuckles. “Damien's a big boy who can take care of himself. You want to know what his deal is? Here's what you need to know about Damien Cardenas. He's a compulsive workaholic who doesn’t know how to take a break. Saturday night, after the fundraiser, he had a two a.m. conference call. It didn’t even strike Damien that it’s not normal.”
Ha. I knew Damien was lying about his idle rich comment. “Why?”
“Why is he a workaholic? Because underneath that flippant, devil-may-care exterior, he has a very strong sense of duty. He is the oldest child. It was always expected that he would take over the family company. Everything he's done in his life has been in keeping with that goal. He went to business school. He joined a management consulting company to round out his experience. After a six-year stint there, he went to work for the Cardenas Group and made his way up the ranks.”
I think about the phone that will not stop ringing. “And that includes two a.m. calls?”
“It wasn’t always this bad,” Julian replies. “His father died, and his mother remarried. She’s the majority shareholder. She made her husband Tomas the CEO. Maybe she thought it would make Damien's life easier? I don’t know. But Tomas Valera doesn't know a damn thing about running a conglomerate. Damien runs around, covering for him. Fixing his mistakes.”
“Why doesn’t he just tell his mother?”
“He’ll tell you that’s a waste of time. His mother has a stubborn streak, and she’s going to do what she’s going to do. But the real reason is that he likes Tomas and doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.”
Damn it. It's easy for me to hate the version of Damien Cardenas that got me fired. It’s easy to hate the man who buys a house in Highfield without batting an eye. Who keeps a brand new SUV in a town where he doesn’t even live because renting would be too much hassle.
But that's not the whole picture. The Damien that Julian knows is a lot more nuanced.
I don't like it.
It would be significantly more convenient for me to keep hating Damien. Significantly easier if I didn’t feel connected to Julian. It would be much better for my peace of mind if I wasn't turned on at the sight of Julian sitting in front of me, biting into his sandwich with obvious relish. Much healthier if I wasn’t still attracted to Damien.
Donna stopsme when I get back from lunch. “Who was that?” she asks, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“A friend,” I say curtly.
She doesn’t take the hint. “Back-to-back lunches with two hot guys. Some people have all the luck. Which one do you fancy, Sophia?”
“Seriously?”
She takes a look at my annoyed expression and raises her hand. “No need to get offended. It's just a joke.”
“Do I look like I'm laughing?” I don't care if I'm being a bitch. People gossiped about me once before, and I lost my job. I am never going to let that happen again.
But Donna’s question lingers in my mind all afternoon.
Which one of them do I fancy?
The answer has always been both.
And that's the real problem.
Just as I’m leaving for the day, my phone rings. It’s not Damien. Not that I was waiting for his call or anything.
It’s a number I don’t recognize. I answer, and a woman asks, “Hello, is this Sophia Thorsen?”
“Yes, it is.”
“This is Laura from the Collins Fertility Clinic,” she says. “I'm just calling to confirm your appointment with Dr. Hernandez at one o'clock tomorrow.”
The reminder is the cold bucket of water my libido needs. I’m not twenty-five any longer. I’m a grown woman who is getting older every day. Already, I’m considered to be of advanced maternal age. Every year I delay, it becomes harder for me to get pregnant. The risk of pregnancy loss increases. The odds of fetal chromosome abnormalities are higher.
I don’t have time for Julian and Damien. I have goals for my life.
And those goals don't involve getting swept up in their net again.
“Yes,” I reply. “I'll be there.”