Even though Damon had a lot work to get through today, he couldn't focus on anything after the news his parents had dropped on him.
So, he did what every other person in his position would do.
He stalked Elena Gilbert online.
He might have known her back in Harvard—not that he really knew her that well—but he definitely didn't know Elena now.
He didn't know what she had been up to in the last nine years. Or if she was still a massive bitch.
But what did he get for spending his day researching on her?
Not a lot.
Elena Gilbert didn't have a Twitter or Instagram account. She did have a Facebook account—well, if it was hers. Damon could only find one account for an Elena Gilbert in Richmond. But that was locked down tight—just like her legs had been in college—so he figured it had to be her.
After his unsuccessful Elena stalking, Damon sent his friends an SOS text and asked them to meet him at The Grill. It was a pub that was popular with the after-work crowd. He liked it there. The feel was laid-back, and the food was great. Not that he felt like eating. But drinking? He definitely felt like drinking. That showed how stressed he was. He rarely drank during the week.
Damon pushed through the door into The Grill. He saw Alaric was already here, sitting at the bar, sipping on a beer.
Enzo was his best friend even though he was also close to Alaric. Enzo was richer than Damon was because his family owned K-mart the big supermarket chain in the State of Virginia.
Enzo was the heir to K-mart. His great-grandpa started the business way back when, which he passed on to Enzo grandpa. Enzo's mother was the only kid. And all she did was spend his parent's money and get knocked up by Enzo's father. Weird thing was, no one knew who Enzo's father was. His mother had never said. To this day, Enzo still didn't know. His mother was a selfish woman. She was hardly there while Enzo was growing up; she was too busy traveling the world and finding the next man to marry. She had been married eight times.
Enzo's grandpa raised Enzo. Sadly, he died of lung cancer when Enzo was sixteen. Enzo didn't take it well. He took it even worse when he found out that his grandfather had left him everything. He was sixteen and clueless. So, a CEO was brought in to run the company until Enzo was ready to step into his rightful place.
But Enzo never had.
After he graduated college, he just bummed around for a bit. He spent his days sleeping and his nights partying and screwing beautiful woman and getting his name in the gossip columns on a regular basis.
Damon thought Enzo was capable of so much more. No, he knew his friend was capable of more. But he didn't push the issue. Enzo was his best friend, and it was Enzo's decision how he wanted to run his life.
Unlike Damon. Apparently, he had no say in what happened in his life.
"Hey, man." Damon patted Enzo on the back, taking the stool next to him.
"Hey. Your usual?" Enzo asked him.
"Yep."
Enzo signalled to the bartender and ordered a bourbon for Damon.
"So, what's up?" Enzo asked.
Damon sighed. "Everything." He dragged his hands down his face and let out a groan.
"That bad?"
"Worse."
The bartender put the bourbon in front of Damon. He picked it up and down half of the glass before putting it back down.
"Better?" Enzo asked.
"Nope." Damon looked at his friend. "Mum and Dad went behind my back and hired someone to come and work with me. A 'co-CEO.'"
Enzo's eyes widened. "You are kidding."
"Wish I were." Damon sighed. "And it gets worse. The person they have hired to share my job with me is Elena Gilbert."
Enzo's brows drew together in thought. "Elena Gilbert…"
"We went to Harvard with her," Damon said. "She always used to sit in the front row. Wore those baggy-ass sweaters all the time. I used to call her Gilbert the stuck-up bitch."
"Oh, yeah." Enzo clicked his fingers in recognition. "Straight dark brown hair."
"That's the one."
"Damn…she hated your guts in college, man." Enzo laughed as he picked up his beer and took a sip. "Why was that?"
"I guess she thought I was a rich prick."
"You are. But so am I. And she didn't hate me."
"Who didn't hate you?" Alaric dropped into the stool next to Enzo.
"Elena Gilbert," Enzo told Alaric. "You remember her from Harvard?"
"God, yeah. Haven't heard that name in a while though. I used to work shifts with her at Starbucks."
Unlike Damon and Enzo, Alaric's family wasn't rich. He was at Harvard on a scholarship. But he created this dating app after he graduated, and it went big. Really big.
"Did you?" Damon looked at Alaric. "How did I not know that?"
Alaric shrugged. "She was a nice girl. Didn't like you though, if I remember right."
"She hated his guts," Enzo clarified.
"Thanks for the reminder." Damon grimaced at his friend.
"I will have a draft beer," Alaric told the bartender, who just approached. "Why are we talking about Elena Gilbert anyway?" he asked.
"Because Damon's parents had just hired her to be the CEO at his company."
"What?" Alaric's head swivelled to Damon. "I thought you were getting the job."
"I am. They are bringing her in as co-CEO. Apparently, they think I need a woman's perspective to help me run the company, which is just bullshit and a massive insult."
"Feel for you, buddy." Alaric patted Damon's shoulder and then picked up the beer the bartender just put in front of him.
"What are you going to do?" Enzo asked Damon.
"Not much I can do." Damon shrugged. "Elena is coming in tomorrow, and the announcement will be made to the rest of the staff. Then, I have to share my company with her."
God, Damon hated his life right now.
And he knew hate was a very strong word, so he wouldn't use it in reference to his parents, but he would say that he seriously, intensely did not like them right now.
"And that's it?" Alaric said. "You are just going to sit back and accept it."
Enzo laughed. "Come on, this is Damon Salvatore we are talking about. No way will he just roll over and take this. At least, not without a fight."
"Oh, I intend to fight all right." And Damon would fight as dirty as he needed to. But he needed to get his battle plan together, and he couldn't do that until he had met with Elena tomorrow and know what her deal was. "But, right now, I'm going to have a drink with my buddies and maybe shoot some pool later. Who is with me?"
"Always with you, man," Enzo said. "But I think we need something stronger than beer for this." He signalled the bartender. "Three shots of Jägermeister."
"No shots," Damon told Enzo. "I have got work in the morning."
He couldn't be hung over when he met Elena. Especially not when he had to stand there during the big announcement of her new role in the company.
The thought alone made him sick.
"I don't want a shot. I have got an early meeting tomorrow," Alaric told Enzo.
"Oh, come on. Just one shot won't kill you."
"Fine." Damon sighed. "One shot, and that's it."
Enzo grinned. "Sure thing, man."
The bartender poured out their drinks. "Enjoy."
Enzo picked up a glass and held it out to them. "Let's toast."
Damon rolled his eyes. "What the hell do I have to toast about? How I just lost half of my company?"
"You didn't lose half of your company, Damon." Enzo chuckled. "Elena is just taking half of your job."
"Oh, well, that's okay then," Damon deadpan.
"Why don't we toast to Damon finding a way to get rid of Elena and get his job back?" Alaric said.
"He hasn't lost his job though. And wouldn't that be more of a wish?"
"Are you two for real right now?" Damon stared at them both. "No toasts. And no wishes. Let's just drink, so I can try to forget about this shitty day and the even shittier day that I'm going to have tomorrow."
And, with that horrendous thought in mind, Damon picked up his shot and threw it back.
x x x
Jesus Christ.
Damon's head was pounding.
And what the hell was that noise?
Was that drilling outside?
He lived on the twenty-first floor, and his windows didn't open.
How the hell could he hear drilling?
Damon licked his dried lips. His mouth felt dusty.
What time was it?
He had to meet Elena in the morning.
Damn.
He blindly fumbled around for his phone on his nightstand. Only there was an empty space where his nightstand usually was.
He got a sinking feeling right at the same time as he heard a soft groan came from beside him.
Rubbing his eyes before opening them to the muted light in the room, Damon turned his head, and on the pillow next to him was a mass of long blonde hair with a face hidden beneath.
Where the hell was he?
Definitely not a hotel room. There were a selection of bras and panties hanging on the radiator, drying.
Clearly, he got wasted and ended up back at this woman's place.
So much for only one shot. Thanks to Enzo.
He needed to get out of here and get back to his apartment to get ready to face Elena
Damon got out of bed, careful not to wake his bed partner up. He couldn't deal with the morning-after conversation.
He located his clothes and shoes in a heap on the floor. He picked up his pants and felt his wallet and cell in the pocket.
He pulled his cell out and lit up the screen.
It was eight thirty.
Damn.
And he had five missed calls from Rose and three from his mother, which was odd. But then again, he was usually in the office by now, and they were probably wondering where he was. Especially with Elena coming in this morning.
He needed to get in the office ASAP. He didn't have time to go home and change. He would call Rose on the way and ask her to get his clothes ready. He normally kept a few spare shirts and suits at the office.
Damon grabbed his shirt and put it on, not bothering to button it up, and he slipped sockless feet into his shoes. He had no idea where his socks were, but he didn't have time to look for them. He sneaked out of her bedroom, through the apartment, and quietly let himself out into the hall.
He looked up and down the hallway. He had clue where he was. The only recollection he had of last night was doing body shots off a woman—he assuming the one he just left in bed.
Damon swore, he was never going to drink again.
Ignoring the pounding in his skull, he jogged down the hallway and found the stairwell at the end. He was on the third floor. He ran down the stairs, his shirt flapping as he went.
Then, he was in the empty lobby, and he went out onto the street. Stopping on the sidewalk, he looked around.
Where was he? Nothing looked familiar to him right now.
He saw a cab approaching, so he put his hand out to flag it down.
The cab slowed at the curb side, and he climbed in the back.
"Where to, buddy?"
"Stupid question, but where am I?" Damon asked the driver.
The driver chuckled and turned in his seat to look at him. "Rough night?"
"You could say that."
"Well, it must have been a good one if you don't know where you are. You are in Dragonville." The driver tapped a finger on the sign on his dash. It read Dragonville Cabs. "Where do you need to be?"
"I'm in Dragonville? Jesus Christ," Damon groaned.
That was about an hour drive out of Richmond.
How the hell did he get here?
Damon dragged his hand down his face. "Look, man, I really need to be in Richmond—like, about an hour ago."
The driver gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry, buddy, but I don't take fares out of Dragonville."
Damon leaned forward in his seat. "I will pay you a thousand bucks to take me to Richmond and get me there in the fastest time."
"It is rush hour, man. The quickest I could get you to downtown Richmond would be an hour and a half, and that's if we are lucky. You are looking at more like two hours."
Two hours!
Damn. Damn. Damn.
"Fine. You get me there in an hour and thirty, and a thousand bucks is yours."
The drivers eyes lit up with dollar signs. "You have got yourself a deal," he told Damon.
He put the car in drive, doing a U-turn in the road.
Damon called Rose. Tucking his cell between his ear and shoulder, he started buttoning up his shirt.
It rang once before she answered.
"Where are you?" she whisper-hissed.
"I'm in a cab, on the way to the office."
"Please tell me you are five minutes away."
"I wish. More like ninety minutes."
"Ninety minutes!" she screeched.
Damon winced.
"Where in the world are you?"
"Dragonville."
"Dragonville! Jesus, Damon. What are you doing there? Actually, I don't want to know. But your mother is not happy at all. I have been running interference with her. She told me that she called you already, and you didn't answer. Elena arrived ten minutes ago."
Damon groaned. "Damn. She is early."
"Yeah, well, your mother is not happy because she wanted you to meet with her before the staff meeting, which is happening in an hour."
"An hour!" Damon slammed his hand down on the seat beside him. "The meeting was supposed to be at ten."
"It was brought forward. You got an email about it late last night."
Last night—when he was in a bar, getting trashed and doing body shots off a woman.
He was such a prick.
"Damn." Taking his phone in hand, Damon laid his head back on the seat and rubbed his aching forehead. "I will be there as soon as I can. Just try to delay the meeting until I get there."
"I will do my best."
Damon couldn't believe this. He needed to be in Richmond in an hour to make that meeting.
Because, if he didn't, he would never hear the end of it from his mother.
He leaned forward in his seat. "Looks like I need to be in Richmond in an hour. I will add another five hundred to your fare if you get me there."
The driver's eyes met his in his rear-view mirror. "I will do my best."
His foot pressed down on the gas as Damon lied back on the seat and prayed for a traffic miracle.
The cab got him to the office in an hour and twenty. He paid the driver and jumped out of the cab. He raced his way into the building and straight into a waiting elevator.
He jabbed at the button to his floor, impatiently watching the door closed. Then, finally, it started to ascend.
He tucked his shirt into his pants, and staring at his blurred reflection on the shiny metal walls of the elevator, he ran his hands through his hair, trying to straighten it.
The elevator reached his floor. The door opened, and Rose was waiting there with a coffee in hand.
"You look terrible."
"Thanks." Damon took the coffee from her, and they started walking side by side in the direction of his office. "Has the meeting started yet?"
"No. Your parents pushed it back."
"Is my mother pissed?"
Rose slid him a look. "What do you think?"
Damon groaned.
"They are waiting for you in your office with Elena."
"Okay." He took a gulp of coffee.
"And your parents think that a pipe burst at your apartment and that you had to get the plumbers in, so that's why you are late."
"You are the best," Damon told her.
Rose smirked. "Oh, I know."
His stomach growled loudly. He realized he hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. No wonder he got so hammered last night.
"You hungry?"
"Apparently so."
"I think there are some muffins and brownies in the conference room, but I will put an order in for waffles at your usual place."
Damon smiled at her. "Thanks, Rose. Honestly, I don't know what I would do without you."
"You would crash and burn. But, luckily for you, that will never happen because I'm here to stay."
"You are due a pay raise soon, right?"
She grinned. "Yes."
They reached his office door. He took another drink of his coffee and handed it off to Rose.
She gave him an encouraging smile. "You have got this."
Damon took a deep breath and pulled his shoulders back. Then, he pushed open his door and walked in his office.
He heard Rose made a noise behind him, like a gasp, but he ignored her and strode confidently into his office.
"Mum, Dad." He smiled at them. "So sorry I'm late."
Lillian returned smile, but he could see she was pissed. The tightening around her mouth gave it away. He had seen that mouth tightened a lot over the years.
Giuseppe greeted him, coming over to pat his back. "Don't worry, son. It is not your fault you had plumbing problems."
If he had had plumbing problems, then he wouldn't have been so late. Damon swallowed down.
"Damon, you remember Elena." Lillian gestured to the sofa.
For the first time in nine years, Damon's eyes took in Elena Gilbert.
He knew for certain that she had changed.
"Yes, of course." He walked forward to greet her, his eyes fixed on her.
Elena rose to her feet, her lips pressing into a smile. Damon thought it was the first time he had ever seen her smile in his direction. He used to get a sneer, and that was on a good day.
Giuseppe made a strangled noise behind him, but Damon was too busy taking in Elena to pay him any mind.
Elena Gilbert was all grown-up. And he would never forget a face like her.
She had straight, sleek dark brown hair with red streaks close to her face. Brown eyes as large as a doe's. She was pretty in Harvard. But, now, she was a knockout. She was thinner than she used to be, but she was still rocking those curves in all the right places.
She was wearing a grey pencil dress that had a slit up the front, finishing mid-thigh, showing enough of her gorgeous tan legs to tease. The dress hugged her body, showcasing her amazing figure.
She looked the same but different. Still fresh-faced. But, now, she wore a little more makeup than she used to in college. Pouty lips painted pink. Wide brown eyes lined with thick black lashes, staring back at him, not giving anything away, but they looked a hell of a lot warmer than they used to look at me back in college.
Elena Gilbert was stunning.
She looked like she should be modelling their product, not selling it.
"It is great to see you again," Damon said with a smile.
Her smile widened, showing a slip of her white teeth. Then, she parted her lips to speak—when Lillian's voice sliced through the air.
"Damon! What is on the back of your shirt?"
Damon stopped at the shrill tone of Lillian's voice, his eyes jerking in her direction. "What?" he asked, confused.
"Your shirt!" Lillian started to advance on him, clear anger in her eyes.
His shirt? What the hell was she talking about?
Before Lillian could reach, Damon turned to look at himself in the wall mirror on the other side of his office. As I move, he saw Rose's wide eyes, her lips pressed tightly together. He caught sight of his father, and his fist was pressed to his lips. He was clearly fighting laughter.
What the hell was going on?
Then, he heard Elena gasped. He swung his eyes back to hers, and the warmth that was in them had been replaced with barely concealed disgust.
What the hell was happening here right now?
Pulling his eyes from Elena, Damon turned his back to the mirror, looking at it over his shoulder, trying to see what everyone else was seeing, and—
His heart nearly stopped
No. That couldn't be. Surely not.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to take in what he was seeing. He backed up, so he was closer to the mirror, his eyes glued to it, and all too soon, it became clear.
He hissed. "What the hell?"
How did that get there?
Well, he had a pretty good idea how it got there. He just didn't know when it was put there. Or why someone would do that.
How the hell did he not see this when he was getting dressed?
He knew he was bleary-eyed, and the room was semi dark, but it was not like something one could miss it
Because written there, on the back of his light-blue shirt, in clear black ink was…
Last night was incredible! You really are Wild;)
Call me if you want to have sex again.
847-206-7841
xoxo
What the hell.
Thank you so much for the support and kind reviews! I was a bit worried that my readers may not like this Delena story...I bet some of you may not like this Damon, LOL! Well, keep an open mind, maybe you will eventually find this Damon cute and adorable;)
