Page 13 of Protégé King

I draw in a deep breath and wait for what is to follow. Waiting is necessary. It’s about letting the fish come to you, when you can reel it in. But in this case, it’s a bit like watching the knife about to stab you in the heart in slow motion, aware you’re about to die, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening.

“Apparently your father doesn’t know when to stop gambling. He lost his ass that day. I bet that’s why he sold the house.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and touch her arm.

She grimaces at me and jerks her arm back. “What you are you sorry for?”

“It didn’t happen that way. I’m just…sorry. You should talk to your dad.” I lower my voice and tilt my chin to keep things on the low for her ears only. “Tell him just to tell you. That you can handle it.”

She pulls back and looks at me. “What are you talking about?”

I lift my hand and wave her off before I turn back to the group and end up in the beam of Damion’s eyes, and there is nowhere to hide from his prying eyes. My lips trembles and my fingers curl into my palms, or they’d tremble as well. The blonde, whoever she is, hurries away. I’ve reversed her snark and re-snarked her. It’s a skill I’ve learned over the years, but I don’t like it. It feels dirty, but sometimes necessary in this crowd.

It’s in that moment that the CEO of a large electronics company joins us. I’m not sure how I endure the greetings, and offer him a smile. Of course, he’s here for Damion, cornering him, trying to engage him over some corporate raid his father just completed. It’s my exit opportunity and I dart away, or I try.

To my shock, Damion is right behind me, catching my arm and turning me to face him, his grip possessive and unforgiving of my desire to depart. He steps out of the walkway and takes me with him. “Do not walk out of here,” he says softly. “You worked too hard to get here and you’re the only one of us here that didn’t get here on our name.”

“You don’t even know me anymore, Damion.”

“I know you better than anyone knows you.”

“And yet you don’t know me at all.”

“All right, Alana. Bottom line. She lashed out because your ability to overcome the obstacle of name recognition scares the shit out of her. You make the rest of us look like tailgaters at best.”

“Was she right? Is something going on with my father that everyone knows but me?”

“I don’t know, but whatever it is or isn’t can’t be changed right here and now. Put it aside. Focus on here and now.”

I can’t, I think. Not with him this close and touching me. “You’re still holding my arm,” I say softly, unable to fully think for the ball of emotion in my chest that seems to be related to that hand.

His eyes narrow and he hesitates before his grip slowly eases. “Stay. For you. Do this for you.”

The CEO of the electronics company is back joining us, and this time he’s not all focused on Damion. He actually addresses me, and from there my escape is thrown out the door. We’re joined by yet another CEO, and another, and Damion and I chat it up with them. Ultimately, these people are all here for Damion, who is clearly on their radar, though I feel they give me a shot, too.

Damion watches me through it all, trying to catch my eye where he can, but through all of these exchanges, one thing is clear to me.

He’s already powerful. He’s already sought after.

He’s no longer the boy next door.

I don’t know him, but he probably does still know me.

That means he knows I’m still the girl next door, and apparently, I’m still living above my means. More so than I ever imagined, if the rumors about my father are true. But I take Damion’s advice and shove aside that thought, at least for now.

It’s an hour and a half later, and Damion and I have been split up along the way, though I am still far too aware of every move he makes, every location where he pauses and chats. I think he’s aware of me, too, and that’s going no place good. He’s Damion West. I’m Alana Blue, and I’m very confused about who that is right now.

As the crowd thins and people disappear, it’s time to leave and not with Damion. I’ve already spied a side exit, and I go there now. I exit to the back of the building and cut left. I’m in a building complex and my goal is to get to the other side, where offices will be closed. Where I will have privacy. I’ll go back inside to depart officially, but I need to have a conversation with my mother that doesn’t include my father.

I find a concrete bench in front of a quiet building that is obviously closed for the night, and dial my mother. “Honey! How is it going? Are you on your way home? Were you the star of the party?”

“Where’s Dad right now? Are you alone?”

There’s a pause in which I imagine her panicking before she says, “He stepped out to meet a client for drinks. Why, honey? Do you need a ride?”

“Tell me what’s going on, Mom.”

“What do you mean?”

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