Page 6 of Securing His Obsession

She spied the door to the stairs, tempted to escape down them so that she wouldn’t have to travel in the elevator with him. Doing that, though, would seem petty, so she waited for him to stop beside her before pressing the down button.

Fortunately for her, it arrived immediately, and she got in. As the doors slithered shut, she tried not to think about all those movies and TV shows she watched, not to mention the novels she read, where there was always an awkward encounter in an elevator. Or a steamy one when the hero pushed the heroine against the side of the cart, overcome with passion, and they shared a steamy kiss.

Heat suffused her cheeks, and she turned her head to the side so that Damon couldn’t see her body’s reaction.

Why the hell would she think about something like that while the object of her crush was standing right beside her?

The second the doors opened, she strode out as if it was on fire and flames were licking the soles of her shoes.

She reached her compact SUV and unlocked it before turning to face Damon, who was behind her. “Right, well I’m here safely. Thanks for seeing me to my car. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She plastered a smile on her face, which had her cheeks protesting at the wideness of her grin.

Still Damon didn’t say anything, he continued watching her.

God, the man frustrated her. If she hadn’t seen the way he’d been earlier in the day, nor the way he’d been so gentle with her when she’d been having her meltdown, she would believe he was made of stone and experienced no emotions.

“Do you want to get a drink?”

Margot stilled. Had she heard him correctly? She whirled around. “Did you just as⁠—”

“Yes.”

“Why?” The word burst out of her, because Damon asking her out was the last thing she ever expected to happen.

What was going on? Had she somehow entered an alternate reality? If that was the case, then she’d rather not have been shot and kidnapped in this new reality, but as those memories were still very clear in her mind, that wasn’t the case.

Nothing explained why Damon Pallin, the man who hardly ever said more than ten words to her a day, would ask her out for a drink.

Chapter

Four

Damon had no idea what he was doing. All he knew was he didn’t want to go home to the quiet of his house. Something that had never bothered him before, but tonight did.

He could’ve left the office any time he wanted. Their hours were flexible and had become even more so as all his friends had coupled up.

If Margot had been paying attention, she would’ve seen him lurking around, waiting for her to leave. He’d watched as she’d tidied her desk, something he noticed she always did. Watched as she seemed lost in her thoughts as she did it, a soft smile playing across her tempting mouth, as if the memory was pleasant.

He wanted to know what she had been thinking about as she’d done it. He found he wanted to know everything she was thinking.

Had that been what pushed him to seek her out when he saw her sitting in her car in the parking garage this morning looking as if she was trying to psych herself up into getting out.

“Are you going to answer me?” she asked, her hand gripping the side of her door, as if it was keeping her anchored to the present.

It took a second for him to work out what she was talking about—the reason he’d asked her for a drink. His plan had been to walk her to her car and then get into his own. But when she’d gone to leave, it hit him that he didn’t want to say goodbye.

“I didn’t want to go home to an empty house.” The truth burst out of him, like it had in the break room when she asked if he was okay.

Her eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting him to be so truthful with her. “Right. Um sure. Do you want to go to The Como?”

It was a hotel, not far from the office, and had decent food. It was likely not busy being a Monday, but then again, no place was going to be super busy. He also wasn’t going to think anything of her immediate acceptance of his invitation. She’d said yes, and that’s all that mattered. “That works. Do you want to go together or separately?”

What was wrong with him? Now he was suggesting they sit together in the confines of a car. He was more off balance than he thought.

“Separately. I’d rather have my car there.” In case I need to leave quickly.

The words were unspoken, but they hung in the air. He should be offended by the implication of them, but he wasn’t. He got it. He understood it. And he didn’t blame her.

“Okay. I’ll meet you there, then?” At her nod, he relaxed a fraction. It was probably a good idea she made her own way. He could use the five minute drive to try and get his head on straight.