A Slow-Burning Dance (2 page)

“You’re
inviting me to the concert?”

He
nodded.

“Why?”

Damien
looked confused. “Can’t a guy ask a beautiful girl out on a date?”

The
temptation to toss aside her pride and simply accept was strong, but what would
that make her? “Thank you for the compliment. I mean that, but I don’t want to
become the next front page news in the tabloids with you, Damien.”

Now
he looked wounded, and her heart sank. She wasn’t trying to be a bitch, but
reality was reality. “I won’t let that happen.” His voice was soft, and that
surprised her. It almost sounded apologetic. “Look, I know there are a lot of
stories circulating about me. It comes with the territory, but my intentions
are sincere. I would love to take you to the concert. Santino told me how much
you love their music.”

She
took several deep breaths and tried to collect her thoughts so she could say
this without sounding like a shrew. “I haven’t seen you in six years and now
all of a sudden you’re giving me compliments, offering me a corner suite for
the same rent as an interior one, and asking me out on a date.”

“Sela,
I—”

She
cut him off. “I’m sure my brother tells you everything about me, so you must
know I’m not the kind of woman who dates around the way you do.”

The
change that came over his face floored her. She’d hurt him just now, and she
felt terrible about that.

“I’m
not asking you because I want to make you a conquest.”

“Damien,
I’m sorry. It came out wrong.”
That
was an understatement.

“Look,
I know what the tabloids say, and I’ve done my fair share of dating around, as
you call it, but there’s nothing implied here. You’re Santino’s sister, so I’m
happy to help you get the suite you want. You’re also a beautiful woman, and
wanting to take you to a concert isn’t a crime.”

“We
haven’t spoken in six years. What’s changed?”

“I
met you a long time ago. You were just a kid.”

“I
was a nineteen year old woman.”

“Sela,
I barely remember that day. If I hurt you in some way, I assure you it was
unintentional.”

She
was stunned into silence, and he looked like he’d just stepped in a huge pile
of dog shit. She was being utterly unfair here. She’d been attracted to him the
second she met him, but he didn’t know that. He had done nothing hurtful toward
her then, and he wasn’t doing anything hurtful now. She was the one acting like
a bitch.

The
atmosphere in the building was suddenly oppressive. Sela wanted to leave before
she did or said something foolish.

 
“Thank you.” The response was automatic, but
she had to say something. “I’m really sorry. I never meant to upset you. You’re
right. We met a long time ago, and I’ve made assumptions about your life that
obviously aren’t true.”

“Thank
you for that. I never meant to upset you either. The corner office is yours.
I’ll have the papers sent to your email this afternoon.”

He
turned and walked out of the building before she could think of something else
to say. She followed, desperate to turn this around, but unable to find the
words. She was so damn confused right now, and wished someone would step in and
help her make sense of it. The guilt was horrible. What the hell was wrong with
her?

The
same foreman Damien had been arguing with earlier walked toward them with a
pained look on his face, and Sela knew she’d lose her chance to salvage this
conversation in about two seconds. She opened her mouth to say
something—anything—but it was clear that Damien’s attention was already focused
on the next problem.

“Take
care of yourself, Sela.”

It
took her a second to speak. “Okay. Thanks. Bye.” She stood watching him walk
away, wanting to cry. What the hell had she done?

Chapter
Two

Damien
forced his feet to keep moving toward Ernest Hamilton. He didn’t like the man
at all, and had already tried to persuade Tomás to fire him. Things were
already strained between him and Tomás over this project as it was. They’d
experienced endless delays and hang-ups, most of which had been initiated by
something Ernest didn’t like. Damien and Tomás been friends a long time, and
Damien didn’t want something as inconsequential as a strip mall remodel to ruin
their relationship.

He
barely remembered meeting Sela Chavez, but he’d been such a smug prick back
then that didn’t surprise him. What little he did remember was that she had
looked like she was still in high school. She had one of those faces that
looked younger than her chronological age, which wasn’t a terrible thing.

Unless you’re a nineteen year old
woman who thinks of your brother’s new boss as a player.

Ernest
was talking, but Damien’s focus was on that day six years ago as he struggled
to think of a way to prove to Sela that he was no longer that same man.
Everything had still been in chaos at the time. His attention had been pulled
in a hundred different directions at once. He’d had to move his entire
operation underground, quickly, and not all the employees who had worked for
him above ground had been accounted for at the time. He’d later learned that
most of the people who hadn’t been able to move that quickly had not survived.

Santino
and Sela were the only two of their family to have escaped the flood. The town
they’d lived in, Tecate, had been swallowed up by the Pacific Ocean within a
matter of hours. The only reason Sela and Santino hadn’t died as well was
because they’d been underground at the time, looking for a place large enough
to house their entire family.

“What
do you think?” asked Ernest.

What?
Damien blinked a few times. “Yeah,
yeah, sure. That will work. Do that.”

Ernest
frowned, clearly not fooled by Damien’s less than total attention, but now that
he had an answer, he finally left. Damien turned around, his gaze sweeping the
row of suites where he’d been standing with Sela moments ago, but she was gone,
along with his chance to get to know her. What the fuck was wrong with him?
He’d really blown it.

As
he made his way back toward downtown and the building that housed the offices
of Rivera Construction, his thoughts turned once again to the day he’d first
laid eyes on Sela. She and Santino had rented an apartment after learning about
the flood and realizing they’d lost their entire family. Santino was five years
older than his sister, and had already earned his degree above ground.

Damien
hired him during the interview because he was intelligent, and his story of
survival told Damien the man would work hard and be loyal to the company. His
instincts hadn’t been wrong. A few weeks after he was hired, Damien had gone to
the apartment Santino shared with Sela to work on a project they were both
putting in extra time on to complete.

Sela
had been in college, and Damien
remembered Santino scoffing at her choice of majoring in dance. He had tried to
convince his sister to earn a business degree, but Sela had always gone her own
way, according to Santino.

At
the time, Damien was still learning about former employees who had not survived
the storms on the surface. His entire business was in chaos, and he was
struggling to bring it under control. Santino had been a go-getter from day
one, and he’d found himself relying on the man more than he should have, but
Santino never complained. He’d stepped up and done the work of someone far more
experienced, which was why he became head of IT at Rivera Construction within a
year.

Sela
had come into the room where Santino and Damien had been sitting side-by-side
at their laptops, working on the project. Damien remembered glancing up as
Santino introduced her, thinking she was pretty but far too young for him, and
that was it. He recalled nothing else.

He
shook his head as he entered his office. What a smug prick he’d been. Today
hadn’t been much better. All he’d focused on were Sela’s beautiful face and her
curvy ass moving under that skirt. He’d asked her out without so much as a
glance backward at that day all those years ago, or any concern for what she
now thought of him and his former escapades
..

Santino
talked about her all the time, but Damien only half listened because Santino
talked about a lot of things all the time. He was that kind of a person, which
made him great at his job. He not only had the technical skills necessary to
keep Damien’s systems running smoothly in the background, but he was able to
communicate with every department and each employee in a friendly, helpful
manner.

What
would happen now? Would Sela tell her brother about Damien asking her out? He had
never approached Santino about dating Sela, and he didn’t want this to become a
source of discomfort for them. Even worse, he’d hurt
Sela
today without meaning to. He had to fix this. It was the right thing to do.

Sela
was a business owner, or soon would be, and she’d proven herself to be an
intelligent, resourceful woman this morning. She deserved his respect, not some
hound-dog attempt to get her alone in a box seat at the Music Pavilion.

That
was the old Damien, and he had stopped being that person a long time ago.

****

As
soon as Sela returned to her apartment, she rescheduled her own dance lesson
for the following week because she was in a terrible mood, and she knew it
would take more than a few days to get over it. She still took lessons with one
of the professors at SouthWest University so she kept her skills current, but
she knew her concentration wouldn’t be at peak level for the next couple of days.

She
considered calling Santino to discuss what had happened, but then realized that
would be the worst thing to do. She no longer lived in the same apartment as
her brother, but they talked all the time. Santino never shut up about Damien.
He worshipped the man, and adored working for him.

If
Sela
told Santino that she’d made an ass out of
herself with his boss, merely because he’d asked her out, it would bring down
trouble that Santino didn’t deserve because her brother would feel compelled to
say something to Damien.

The
best thing to do would be to go to the gym and work this out on the machines,
but she wasn’t in the mood for that, either. Instead, she paced her tiny
apartment and wished she could start over again from early this morning. This
time, she’d leave the area as soon as she’d spotted Damien instead of standing
there gawking at him while he spoke with the foreman.

****

By
the following morning, Sela was still sulking over the events of the previous
day. She decided to work on finalizing her schedule of private students for the
next month, as well as send them each email reminders that the studio was
scheduled to open in three months. Work kept her mind occupied and off Damien
Rivera, until an email came through from his company late in the morning.

Santino
sent them so often that she didn’t glance twice at it but instead opened it
right away, thinking it was from her brother. It was from Damien, and it
contained the paperwork he’d promised on the corner unit. He hadn’t mentioned
their conversation from the prior day, or the upcoming concert. The email was
all business. Sela had been hoping to have a chance to speak with him about
yesterday, but now it looked like she’d blown that chance. Instead of brooding
about it all evening, she should have contacted him.

As
Sela looked over the documents, she had an overwhelming urge to cry, and she
hated the sign of weakness. It’s not as if they had any kind of a relationship
and had quarreled. She hadn’t seen him since shortly after settling underground
with Santino.

So
he’d flirted with her yesterday and invited her to see her favorite band in the
entire world … so what? Having him check her out and missing a concert she’d
kill to attend wasn’t what bothered her. It was the way she’d behaved.

He
barely remembered her, and in the end she’d dredged all that up once more for
no reason. Nothing had changed the past, despite all her misery during the past
twenty-four hours. Obviously Damien wasn’t thinking about it, if his email was
anything by which to judge his mental state.

She
forced herself to concentrate on the paperwork he’d sent. The contract for the
corner suite at the same rent she’d have paid for the interior unit was only
for one year. Tomás would likely raise her rent after that. Because they now had
to reconfigure the walls in the corner unit, she also realized her studio
opening would be delayed by another month to six weeks.

She
really should have walked away as soon as she’d spotted Damien in that parking
lot. She would have found another way to have her space behind the mirrors in
the original unit, and she would have avoided all this angst over something Mr.
Damien Rivera did not even remember.

****

Early
that evening, while Sela was drowning her discord in a pint of berry-flavored
ice cream and a really sappy movie, the intercom buzzed. Frowning, she wondered
if it was a late delivery. She often received packages after business hours,
but couldn’t recall anything she had ordered recently.

When
she pushed the button to ask who was downstairs, she was told she had a floral
delivery. Someone had sent her flowers? Who would do such a thing? No one she
knew sent flowers. They were horribly difficult to grow underground and
therefore ridiculously expensive.

She
took the box, waiting until she was back upstairs to open it. Gasping, she
pulled out a large bouquet of wildflowers that she hadn’t seen since living
above ground. She recognized blue sage, California bluebells, desert marigolds,
lacey phacelia, and nasturtiums.

They
had to be from Damien, but where in the hell had he found them? There was a
cream-colored card in the bottom of the box. Sela turned it over and read the
words, written in a surprisingly pretty script.

Sela, I thought these might remind
you of happier times. I know I enjoy having native flowers in my apartment to
cheer me up. I’m sorry I was such an ass yesterday. I hope you’ll reconsider
attending the concert tomorrow night with me.

He’d
written his private Internet phone number at the bottom of the card, with the
words
Call anytime
next to it.

Holy shit
. It wasn’t only the flowers, or
the phone number. It was what he’d written about them. They cheered him up and
reminded him of happier times. The days when they all lived above ground.

Sela
knew what Damien and the other eleven men who called themselves the Weathermen
were trying to do. Santino oversaw not only the entire IT department at Rivera
Construction, but Damien’s two secret teams that she had no business knowing
existed, but that Santino had told her about, regardless.

Each
of the other Weathermen had the same teams, and they all had one common
purpose. To find the bastards responsible for the Tommy Twister virus that had
sent The Madeline Project on a destructive course.

One
team tracked user names across both company message boards, and across places
online where weather geeks and known hackers hung out. The second team took
those user names and tracked IP addresses and machine IDs.

Santino
had even told her recently that Barclay Hampton, one of the Weathermen, had
involved his contacts in Homeland Cyber Security. Once these
cabróns
were found, the government could
deal with them appropriately. That is, if the public didn’t find them and kill
them first.

What
Damien and his friends were doing was noble, and completely uncharacteristic
for the ruthless womanizers they were portrayed as by the media. Although, one
of them was married and three were now engaged, so perhaps the media had it all
wrong?

Ace
Easton and Harper Mathews had married less than two weeks ago. Emmett Radcliffe
and Liane Peyton were getting married in six months, Dominic Greco was marrying
Angela Davidson a year from now, and Kane Bannerman and Julianne Wallis hadn’t
yet set a date, but Kane had proposed to her at Ace’s and Harper’s wedding
reception.

Santino
hadn’t been able to attend Ace’s and Harper’s wedding, but Damien had. He’d
come back and told Santino that while the wedding had been beautiful and
elegant in its simplicity, NorthCentral city was too boring and plain for his
tastes.

Sela
glanced at the bouquet once more, lifting it to her nose to inhale the scents
that took her back to her childhood. She and Damien shared that, even if they
were fifteen years apart in age. They came from the same area and shared the
same heritage. He was a passionate man who loved bright color and exotic
scents, just as she did. He lived his life with a purpose, as did she. Would it
really hurt anyone to go out with him just once?

He
was good-looking, rich, and they shared a love of the same music and flowers.
Not exactly the secret recipe for a lasting relationship, but at least she’d
have a good time. The fact that he’d sought out these flowers and sent them,
along with a sincere apology, told her once more that she’d misjudged him. She
was the one who owed him an apology, not the other way around, which meant he
was a gentleman, as well.