His Needs:Billionaire(11)

A large portfolio lay open with some of the most beautiful paintings  spread out before her. Everything from the mountains to the beach at  sunset to a woman dancing in a bright red dress with long black hair and  eyes that begged the man she watched to make love to her.

"Wow," Bethany breathed out and moved closer to hover over the top of the bed. "Matt... these are incredible."

She glanced up to find him nibbling on his thumb by the doorway.

"Thanks. I taught myself to paint years ago. It's always been a passion  of mine." He shrugged. "I did one off a picture of Damon about three  years ago, but I've never shown him."

"Can I see?" She moved back, not wanting to touch the paintings in case  she messed anything up. The weekend was a big deal to Matt, which meant  it should be to her and Damon too. Supporting him needed to come first  in their list of things to get done in Seattle.

"Sure." He moved up beside her and shuffled things around until the  painting of a handsome teenage boy around fifteen or sixteen stared up  at her. His eyes were locked on the camera taking the photo from what  she could tell, his expression soft, and lips almost turned down. The  sadness in his eyes was heart-wrenching. It was almost as if Matt had  caught Damon at the moment of someone's death.         

     



 

"When is this from?" She reached out and let her fingers hover above his cheek. "He's beautiful."

"It was the day after he caught mom with Barney, her work partner." He  shrugged. "Fucking school pictures were the next day. He brought his  home a few weeks later and I gave him massive amounts of shit over this  picture."

Bethany moved back as a hot lump of regret filled her chest. He wasn't  an easy man to get through to, and she'd been treating him as if he  were. She needed to do more than was expected of her to reach him.  Waiting for him to reach out wasn't going to happen. It would do nothing  but put large divots in the future they wanted together.

"Wow." She shook her head and turned her attention to Matt. "You didn't know."

"No, I didn't know for a long time." He shrugged. "I found the picture  about three years ago and painted it with accents on his cheeks and eyes  to show the pain I know he felt. It's not something he'd want to see,  but it was my way of apologizing for not being there for him. I was dumb  and high on the latest wave of reefer."

"You guys got through it though, and we're going to get through this  weekend together. It's going to be great." She walked over and pulled  him into a hug. "You're going to be great."

"You think so?" He smiled down at her, his blue eyes filled with the kind of hope that most people could only dream of.

"I know so."





Chapter 9

Damon





Fury burned through him at the fact that she'd ignored his request for  her to join him at the house at ten the night before. Not only had he  closed down shop early and left a ton of shit for the next day while  they were traveling, but he'd skipped out on drinks with some old  friends who just happened to be in town.

What was she trying to prove? That she was in control? That the promise  of a future wasn't worth shit if it couldn't be instantly built before  her eyes?

He pushed the door open to the tiny hole-in-the-wall breakfast joint on  the east side of Dallas that he loved to haunt during his college days.  It was quick, cheap and delicious. He pulled out his phone after  glancing around and seeing that Charles wasn't there yet.

Having been a great mentor to him in college at UT, Damon tried to stay  in contact with the old guy as much as he could. The last minute  breakfast was the perfect excuse to save him from having to fly to  Seattle sandwiched in between Beth and Matt. He loved them both, but  wasn't in the mood for Matt's positive attitude or Beth's questions over  his devotion to her. He'd been a dick lately, but she had too...  period.

After shooting off a quick text to both of them, he sat down at a booth  and glanced over the menu that was all too familiar to him.

"Well, well... look what the cat dragged in." An older woman with a  bright smile and platinum-colored hair stopped by the table. "Mr.  Bryant. It's been at least three years since I've seen you in here."

Damon tilted his head to the side as a genuine smile spread across his mouth. "Heather, right?"

"That's right!" She let out a soft giggle. "You're not in college any more from what we all gathered around here."

"Nope. I've been out six years now, but I'm meeting Charles-"

"Charlie, boy. How many times I gotta tell you to call me Charlie like  the rest of the world?" The portly mentor pulled out the chair across  from Damon and smiled up at Heather. "Nice to see you again, Pumpkin.  Grab me a coffee, black, and a glass of fresh squeezed tomato juice."

Damon turned his nose up. "You guys squeeze your own tomato juice?"

"We do for Mr. Darek. He's been keeping this place open by having  breakfast here every morning for the last fifteen years." She laughed,  patted Charles' back and walked off.

"Well, tell me why we haven't gotten together for a quick meal in the  better part of a year. You so busy that you can't spare an old man a few  minutes?" Charles lifted his eyebrow and leaned back.

"Never. I guess our paths just stopped crossing so often, but that's my  fault. Obviously with me locking myself in my office at M&B for  sixteen hours a day, every day, my social interactions have almost  ceased to exist." Damon pulled his napkin into his lap and pressed his  forearms to the table, preparing himself for the lecture that was sure  to come.

"And whose fault is that?"

"Mine, of course. How have you been, Mr. Darek? Still teaching with as  much vigor as you did six years ago when I almost failed your finance  class?"

He chuckled deep in his chest, the action causing his belly to dance  around. "Of course I am, and I do. I love my job. They're going to have  to kick my old ass out of there, and I have tenure, so good-damn luck to  'em!"         

     



 

Damon smiled and let his anger go. It wasn't well founded, and only  served to fuck up his day with the promise that him and Beth would have  another explosive fight over nothing more than her being the strong  woman that he wanted her to be. Funny when you got what you wanted, you  weren't quite sure if that's what you were after in the first place.

"I'm heading out to Seattle after this."

"Oh yeah?" The old man reached up and took his juice from Heather as she  put a few drinks on the table. "I'll have three eggs, over easy,  sweetheart. Bacon and sausage, well done on both accounts. Grits made  with milk and loads of butter. I wanna die young and beautiful."

Damon smirked. "Me too. I'll take the exact same thing."

Charles shook his head and rubbed his belly. "I think you might actually  have a chance at it. You only seem to be getting better looking as  you're getting older. Good thing too, seeing that I remember you being  an ass and a half with the ladies back at UT."

"Me? An ass? No..."

"Right. Why are you headed to Seattle? Got a lady friend up there, or is  your father still holding on to his tax practice in that area?"

"Both, but the trip is to work on an audit up there. We have some people not doing their jobs. Go figure?"

"Kids nowadays. Entitlement. That's what it's all about."

Damon smiled and kept his thoughts to himself. "It's a quick turnaround and I'm hoping for positive results."

"And this lady friend. Tell me about her. You have to be nearing thirty  by now. Most people are having kids at your age. As crazy as it feels to  say it, you're behind the curve, old boy."

Damon chuckled. "I'm thirty-one, and I'm right where I want to be."

"That so?" Charles lifted his eyebrow and leaned back in his chair. "You ever had grits with milk and butter in them?"

"I'm happy. I guess I could be a little more content, but happy will  work for now. She's a graduate from UT herself. She's studying to be an  accountant and just recently started her master's, and yes, my mother  used to make grits just the way you've described. They're shit any other  way."

Charles slapped the table and sat up. "Finally. I swear! All these  northerners with their watery grits and scones. Why in the world would  you want to mess up a perfectly good biscuit?"

"No clue." Damon moved back as the food was delivered.

"Tell me more about the girl. How long have you been together?"

"Three weeks, but she's the one. I have no doubt." He said a quick  prayer over his food and worked to cut his eggs as the image of Bethany  on her knees in the living room washed over him.

So beautiful and compliant. So right for him. His pulse spiked just  thinking about having her again. Her rejecting him was more of a message  than the loss of interest. Now he needed to figure out what the message  was.