Chapter 1
The Last Person I Wanted to See
“Amelia, you look like you want to disappear.”
I turned toward Sarah and forced a smile.
“Do I?”
“Yes.”
She looked me up and down before taking the champagne glass from my hand.
“You’ve been standing here for almost twenty minutes, staring at the same painting.”
“I like it.”
“You hate abstract art.”
“I’ve changed.”
Sarah laughed.
“No, you haven’t.”
I looked across the ballroom.
People were talking, laughing, taking pictures, and pretending they weren’t watching one another. The annual Carter Foundation dinner was always like this. Expensive dresses, expensive suits, and conversations that sounded friendly until someone mentioned business.
My father had organized the event for years.
Tonight, he wasn’t enjoying it.
I could tell from the way he kept checking his phone.
“Have you spoken to your dad?” Sarah asked.
“Not properly.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he keeps telling me everything is fine.”
“And you don’t believe him?”
I looked at her.
“Do you?”
She didn’t answer.
My phone vibrated inside my purse.
I pulled it out.
Dad: Where are you?
I frowned and typed back.
Amelia: I’m at the dinner. Where else would I be?
The reply came almost immediately.
Dad: Come to my office when you can. We need to talk.
I stared at the message.
“What is it?” Sarah asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You look worried.”
“I am worried.”
“About the company?”
I nodded.
Sarah lowered her voice.
“Is it really that bad?”
“I don’t know.”
Before she could say anything else, someone called my name.
“Amelia.”
I turned.
My father’s business partner, Mr. Collins, stood behind me.
“Your father is looking for you.”
“I’ll come in a few minutes.”
He hesitated.
“He asked me to tell you to come now.”
I looked at Sarah.
She gave me a small nod.
“Go.”
I followed Mr. Collins toward the hallway.
Before I could reach my father’s office, I heard voices coming from inside.
My father’s voice.
And another man’s.
I stopped.
“I’m not selling.”
My father’s voice was firm.
The other man answered calmly.
“You don’t have much of a choice.”
I froze.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it in interviews, on television, and in business articles my father had thrown across the dining table more times than I could count.
Damian Blackwood.
I pushed the door open.
Both men looked at me.
My father stood behind his desk.
Damian was sitting opposite him.
For a second, nobody spoke.
Damian looked exactly like the photographs I’d seen.
Dark suit. White shirt. No tie.
Calm.
Too calm.
His eyes moved from my face to the folder on my father’s desk.
Then back to me.
“Amelia,” my father said.
I looked at him.
“What is he doing here?”
Damian leaned back in his chair.
“Nice to see you too.”
I ignored him.
“Dad?”
My father rubbed his forehead.
“Can you give us a minute?”
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Amelia.”
“I heard you.”
I walked farther into the room.
“You said you weren’t selling.”
“We aren’t.”
Damian looked at my father.
“Not yet.”
I turned toward him.
“You really enjoy making yourself comfortable in other people’s offices.”
His mouth lifted slightly.
“And you really enjoy speaking before you understand what’s happening.”
“I understand enough.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me.”
I stared at him.
He waited.
I hated that.
My father stepped between us.
“That’s enough.”
I looked at him.
“Dad, what is going on?”
He was quiet for a moment.
Then he picked up the folder.
“The company has been struggling for several months.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His voice softened.
“We lost two major contracts last quarter.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“How bad?”
He looked down at the papers.
“Bad enough that our bank is reviewing our credit line.”
I swallowed.
“And Damian?”
My father sighed.
“Blackwood Holdings offered to take over our debt.”
I looked at Damian.
“You want to buy us.”
“I want to keep the company from collapsing.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“You don’t have to.”
He stood.
“Your father does.”
My father looked uncomfortable.
I crossed my arms.
“Why would you help us?”
Damian’s expression changed slightly.
“Maybe I don’t want another company destroyed because two old men refuse to settle their differences.”
My father’s face hardened.
“Damian.”
“What?” Damian asked. “It’s true.”
I looked between them.
“What old differences?”
Neither answered.
“Dad?”
“We’ll talk about it at home.”
I looked at Damian again.
“Is there anything else?”
He picked up his jacket.
“No.”
He walked toward the door.
When he reached me, he stopped.
For a moment, we were standing close enough that I could smell his cologne.
He looked at me.
“Try not to make decisions about people before you know them.”
I gave him a cold smile.
“Try not to make offers on companies whose owners haven’t agreed to sell them.”
He smiled.
“Fair enough.”
Then he walked out.
I watched him leave.
“Amelia.”
I turned toward my father.
“What?”
“Don’t get involved with him.”
I frowned.
“I’m not planning to.”
“Good.”
“Why did you say that?”
My father didn’t answer.
“Dad?”
He looked toward the closed door.
“You don’t know the Blackwoods the way I do.”
I waited.
He still said nothing.
“Then tell me.”
“Not tonight.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps saying that tonight.”
He walked around the desk.
“Go home.”
“I want answers.”
“You’ll get them.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
I stared at him.
“You promise?”
He nodded.
I picked up my purse.
“Fine.”
I walked out.
The hallway was almost empty now.
I reached the elevator and pressed the button.
The doors opened.
I stepped inside.
Just before they closed, a hand stopped them.
Damian walked in.
I stared at him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
He pressed the button for the lobby.
“Believe me, I wasn’t planning this either.”
We stood in silence.
Then he glanced at me.
“Your father doesn’t tell you much, does he?”
“No.”
“Mine didn’t either.”
I looked at him.
“That’s supposed to make me feel better?”
“No.”
The elevator stopped.
The doors opened.
Damian stepped out.
Then he turned back.
“Goodnight, Amelia.”
“Goodnight.”
The doors closed.
I stood alone in the elevator.
For some reason, my heart was beating faster than it should have been.
I told myself it was anger.
It had to be.
I had no idea that before the night was over, I would see Damian Blackwood again.
And this time, neither of us would be thinking about business.
