Page 108 of Damaged

Being in the country was good for my confidence. I was dressed in nothing but clothes from the local Target for the whole stay, and James still couldn’t keep his hands off me.

But I’m looking forward to dressing up seriously for our first official night in the city together.

We’re having a home-cooked dinner at his place. This time we’re going fancier than gnocchi.

Coq au vin. His recipe. Followed presumably by an hour of incredible sex. After an appropriate amount of time to digest, of course. I pack all my bags, and then when I’m done, I kick off the comfy clothes and put on the gorgeous split-leg dress James bought me.

It’s hard to overdress with him. In fact, it’s practically impossible since the man is almost always in a tailored suit.

I do my makeup and sit back on the couch next to Steve, waiting for James. I killed plenty of time, but apparently it wasn’t enough. I sigh and turn the TV. Still no word.

It’s another twenty before I get a text.

James:Work bullshit. I’m going to be late.

I’m a little frustrated at his lack of detail. Maybe he’s so swamped he can hardly text. But still, I’d appreciate an ETA.

Me:Should I just eat? What time do you think you’ll be back?

James:Two hours. And if you’re hungry, go ahead. The code to the stairwell door is 54612. Don’t wait up for me.

I don’t respond. I’m a little annoyed that he doesn’t offer an apology. When you say you’re going to be somewhere at a certain time and then reschedule, you say you’re sorry.

I feel like he’s conditioning me to make this something he shouldn’t have to feel bad about. He’s always going to be pulled away by business, isn’t he?

I take my suitcase of toiletries and other essentials and go with Steve to the hall.

I lock my door, walk down to the stairwell door, and wait there for Steve to catch up to me. It would be very uncool of him to be excited or interested in this little outing, so he walks at a glacial pace, sniffing the walls every now and then.

I hold the door open for him, and he strolls out and waits on the landing.

“We’re going up,” I say and round the stairs.

Steve glares at me.

“It’s one floor, buddy.” I don’t wait up for him. I know he’ll follow. I put my suitcase down and punch in the code. I enter the little buffer room and then enter in the same code.

I set my suitcase down in James’s hallway and sigh. I feel a soft tickle on both my legs as Steve winds his way through them and sits.

“Very smooth,” I say aloud.

I didn’t need a red carpet, but I was expecting a little more ceremony for this first night here. I needed James. His smile.A kiss. We could watch a crappy movie and eat microwaved popcorn for all I care.

But this… God, this giant penthouse is lonely. I don’t know how James is able to live here. Sure, half his time he spends at the office. Another quarter is spent traveling, and the last quarter that he’s here, he’s probably asleep.

The place still smells somewhat of construction. A faint odor of sawdust and paint. Funny that not even the rich can get rid of that new-build smell instantly. “Well…should we cook dinner?”

Steve looks left and then right. He’s purring, apparently happy to be back in the penthouse.

“We’re here for good this time. Play your cards right, and you can be the villain cat you always wanted. You can sit in James’s lap when he fires people.”

I unpack a few of my things but keep most of my stuff in my suitcase. I want to do as good of a job as I can of not invading his space.

I still don’t think it’s the best idea for me to live here so soon, but I think I’m beginning to understand why James wants me to.

Even when sharing the same apartment, we might not be seeing that much of each other.

Steve disappears, and I go to the kitchen. There’s no sound but the refrigerator hum. James’s recipe for coq au vin is set out on the white granite island.

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