For the next couple of days, Elena's new life was racing straight ahead and she was forced to run just to keep up. There was a lot of work still to be done to prepare for the opening of the gala and she was working at a disadvantage, since she was coming in at the tail end. She had to catch up with Christopher's plans, and with the marketing scheme he had devised and already had in motion.
Working with Christopher was more fun than she had expected it to be. She knew about PR. How to market a product so that a customer would be not only slavering to have it, but instantly convinced to buy it. Working the ins and outs of a gala as big and splashy as the Gilbert Ridge affair was, at its heart, no different. There were posters to see to, artistic signs, menus for some of the out-of-town vendors and professionally shot photos, showing impossibly perfect people at play.
Gilbert Ridge was about to become the centre of the food and wine industry for several weeks and Elena was right in the thick of it.
She couldn't remember being happier.
Her office on the ground floor of the Ridge was bigger than her old one in Richmond and bright with sunlight pouring in through a bank of windows. There were fresh flowers in the room, and a top-of-the-line computer and printer. She had all the assistance she needed from the employees at the business centre and she had Christopher to bounce ideas off of and to argue with occasionally, as well.
What she didn't have, she thought now, was Damon.
He had made himself scarce the last couple of days. She had barely caught a glimpse of him. Elena stood up from behind her desk and looked out her window at the English-style garden beyond the glass. She had missed Damon.
Her office door opened behind her and she whirled to face of the man she had missed so much. "Damon," she said. "Hi."
"Elena." His voice was cool, polite.
She nearly caught a chill from across the room and she couldn't stop herself from frowning. Why did he act so distant as if she was a stranger?
"Can I help you?" Her words were as polite as his.
"I have come to introduce you to—"
"Me," another man said as he walked into the office and looked at her. "I'm Mason Lockwood, Samantha's fiancé. I'm also one of the board directors of the Ridge."
"It is nice to meet you," she said, maintaining the professional manner she had begun with. Elena saw no warm welcome in his eyes, so she wasn't going to act as though they were friends greeting each other.
Mason studied her and could see what Samantha had already mentioned to him. Elena did have the look of the Gilberts about her, so there was clearly no mistake made. He could see it in the defiant tilt of her chin. In the flash of her eyes. Hell, she probably had more of Grayson in her than the others Gilbert did.
But that didn't mean that he would welcome her into the Ridge or the family. Or that she deserved a share of the estate. Being blood didn't mean jack if you didn't earn your place, he told himself. Everyone else might be willing to give her a chance, but he wasn't so easily taken in. She would have to prove herself to him.
Not that he had anything against her personally. And judging from what Christopher and John had had to say on the subject, he would probably like her. Eventually. But for right now, she was the intruder.
"Getting along all right, I see," he said, giving her office a quick scan.
"Everyone has been very helpful," Elena told him, then came around her desk and took a few steps closer. "Look, I know how hard this is for all of us. And I'm not expecting us to be one big happy family anytime soon."
He folded his arms across his chest and nodded.
"I do, however, expect you to give me a fair chance," she said.
"You do."
Elena looked directly at him and refused to be cowed by his steely stare. She had already been warned that Mason would be the hardest nut to crack, so to speak. That this one of the board of directors would be the least welcoming because of his relationship with Samantha. So she would stand her ground and if she needed to show him that she meant to make this place her home, then that was what she had do.
Besides, Damon was standing right there, watching her, and she wasn't about to look weak or pitiful in front of him.
"That is right. Just as you would any new employee," Elena said. "I think that is fair."
Mason thought about it for a long moment before he nodded and walked forward, offering his hand. "It is fair. Okay, a chance it is."
"Thanks." Elena shook his hand and stepped back.
"Now, I have got to go find John and talk to him about some business. If you two will excuse me…"
Mason left, shutting the door behind him and suddenly Elena and Damon were alone. Silence dragged out for what seemed like forever. Finally, though, Damon said, "You handled him well."
She forced a smile. "Thanks."
"Mason has been with the company for several years. His father was a good friend of your grandfather. He and Samantha put together some major deals in their time. They are still making money on all of them."
"I see," Elena said.
She had an insight into the probable cause of Samantha's overt hostility. It was quite possible Samantha was afraid that, both Mason and she would lose their power at the Ridge when Elena reclaimed her lost heritage.
"Are you okay?" Damon asked.
Elena sighed. "If my…Grayson was still here running the Ridge, none of us would be in this mess."
Damon hesitated. When it came to business, he relied on his innate sense of timing. But with this woman he was wary of trusting his instincts. They were giving him dumb instructions. For example, right now he wanted to sink his fingers into her hair to see if her hair actually felt smooth like silk. Logic told him it would be an extremely bad move. But everything that was male in him was urging him forward to disaster.
There was too much going on beneath the surface of his own reactions. Stuff he did not yet understand. A potential firestorm. An accident waiting to happen.
For a heartbeat, instinct warred with common sense. Instinct won. Which only went to prove that modern man was not nearly as evolutionarily advanced as he liked to think, Damon decided.
Still, some small portion of his brain was working well enough to search for safe camouflage.
"I have got a meeting in ten minutes. I'm sure you have a busy schedule today, too. I better leave you to your work."
With that he turned and walked towards the door. She hesitated, trying to resist the impulse that had just struck her. She failed.
"Damon, wait a second."
He turned back to look at her. "Yes?"
"Why don't we have dinner tonight?"
He blinked a couple of times, as if she had just suggested that they take the next shuttle to the moon.
"Huh?"
Not the most flattering of responses, Elena admitted. But for some reason it gave her hope. Maybe he was as unsure and cautious about what was going on between them as she was. Maybe he wanted to tread warily.
Then again, maybe he was totally unaware of the silent thunder and invisible lightning that she saw snapping in the air between them.
At least it was not an outright rejection, Elena told herself. She had sensed that she had better move quickly.
She smiled at him. "It crossed my mind that I owe you something for the considerable amount of inconvenience I caused you since I came here." She paused for a second. "I was thinking that maybe I could repay you with dinner this evening."
That was the last thing he had been expecting.
"You don't have to do that."
"I want to," she insisted. "How about dinner at my place?"
"Your place?"
"I'm going to work a little late tonight," she said very quickly. "I didn't really want to go out. Since you have been so kind to me, I will cook salmon for two."
"I can bring takeout with me tonight if you are busy."
"Forget the takeout," she said. "I will cook. See you at seven?"
"Okay," he said. "I will see you at seven."
He left her office and closed the door quietly but very firmly.
Dinner with Elena Sommers.
For an instant, he couldn't figure out how to climb back out of the hole he had just dug for himself.
She was just being nice, he reminded himself. She was being grateful for what he had done for her. That was it.
Just like a business dinner.
Okay, he could handle that. He knew how to do a business dinner with a woman. On a good night, he could even do a social dinner with a woman, although he did not do a great many of those these days.
Damon gave himself a small, mental shake. Snap out of it. We are talking a simple dinner here, not a date as we know it.
