Chapter Four

Present Day

"Are they here? Are they here?"

Elena smiled down at Diana. "I don't know. We'll see."

She and her adorable little bundle of energy were just entering the Mystic Grill, so they could meet Bonnie and Caroline for lunch, as it was Bonnie's last weekend at home before she left to go on a South African safari cruise as part of her work for a travel magazine, and Caroline was likewise due back at her news reporting job in Charlotte on Monday.

Over the years, there might've been updates or a few minor changes here and there, but overall the Mystic Grill had remained a safe and familiar haven throughout her, and Diana's, life, with its long bar of polished wood, various tables and chairs, pair of pool tables, and warm, inviting ambiance.

Elena approached the hostess podium. A girl with short dirty blonde hair who looked high school age greeted her. "Hi, Ms. Gilbert."

"Hey, Becky, we're supposed to be meeting Bonnie and Caroline." Elena scanned the interior of the restaurant. The Grill was mostly empty – it looked like they'd beaten most of the lunch crowd. A few tables were taken up by younger people, local high-schoolers, but she didn't see her friends. "I don't think they're here yet."

Becky looked down at a sheet on her podium, then back up. "Looks like you two are the first ones. I'll go get your table set up. Be right back." She quickly walked away with a handful of menus and table settings.

Elena was more than happy to wait – for her table, for her friends to arrive, for whatever life may throw her way. Aside from a few recent irritations that mostly ran in the vein of Damon Salvatore, life was good at the moment. Diana was doing well in school. Jeremy – well, at the very least, he had a job and something to focus his energy on other than getting into trouble. The date set for her lingerie store's official opening was fast approaching. A new sign had just been successfully installed over the front - The Lace Apothecary in a stylish, classy script. She'd spent hours agonizing over the font options before finally committing to one. She hoped she wasn't the only one who loved it. Caroline and Bonnie said they did, but she was still nervous. She also hoped that people loved the little bit of southern charm she'd decided to include. In the top left corner of the sign, a blue dragonfly with iridescent wings was depicted mid-motion alighting on a white magnolia bloom. It was from a picture Jeremy had drawn and given to her a long time ago.

Diana was not as pleased about standing still and waiting. "Can I please have a quarter, Mommy? Please? Please please please pleasepleaseplease?"

Elena fished out two quarters and gave her daughter a serious look. "Do you promise to stay where I can see you? And that you'll only use one of these on candy?"

"Yes!" Diana flashed her most adorable smile. And with her porcelain-doll blue eyes, long, straight black hair, and missing two front teeth, that was very adorable indeed. Not that Elena was biased or anything.

Happy as a song, Diana snatched the two coins she was handed and ran into the little entry way lined with candy and toy machines that all cost a quarter a turn. "Thank you, Mommy!"

Keeping Diana in her peripheral vision, Elena watched the hostess pause on the way to help some customer that had waved her over. Elena sent a few texts and checked the time on her phone. It looked like Becky was coming back, so she turned to call Diana, and just like that, she smacked - hard - into something.

Er, make that someone. Someone who steadied her by grabbing her upper arms.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she began, because she hadn't heard anyone approach, and it had scared the crap out of her, and now she was mortified for causing a scene, "I didn't mean to - "

She met his gaze and froze, breath catching in her throat. Her heart did a graceless stutter step.

Oh no.

It was him, in a soft gray t-shirt, black pants, black leather wristbands, and all that ink. He was gazing down at her with an amused expression and a pair of blue, blue eyes, bluer than an angel's, though he was anything but. Blue eyes that left her stomach in knots and her skin prickling with awareness.

Pain, yearning, confusion. These blasted through her without any conscious thought.

One corner of his mouth curled up in a teasing half-smile. "Boo."

"Damon!" she snapped, irked by how pleased he seemed with himself. "You – scared me."

Tearing her eyes away from that sensuous mouth, she glanced quickly toward the entryway. Diana was still deciding on which machine she should spend her last quarter. Elena prayed with every fiber of her being that Diana stayed out there until she could figure out how to get away from Damon.

Her fingers curled into knuckle-whitening fists. What was he even doing here? And looking so surreally masculine and gorgeous? God, he made her head spin – and not in a good way.

That's why she'd been clinging adamantly to her strict policy of avoiding him at all costs. If she saw him around town, she immediately went the other way. She only wished she could say she'd been as equally diligent in avoiding any and all thoughts of him.

Suddenly realizing she was still pressed against him, she wrenched herself back, refusing to admit to even her innermost self that she'd enjoyed the feel of his warm, strong body.

He put his hands up in a "whoa" motion. "Sorry." He said this without a trace of genuine contrition. "Thought you heard me."

She drew in a deep breath, held it, let it out, slowly, dramatically, glad the silk and lace midnight-colored bra she'd chosen to wear was padded just enough to hopefully hide the sensitized points her nipples had become.

Grrr. She needed to be stronger than this. She really shouldn't be letting him affect her this much.

She let a look of frosty condemnation drop over her features. "Did you follow me in here just to frighten me?"

"Hmm. Paranoid much?"

Her eyes flashed at him. "What?"

He shook his head. "Of course I'm didn't follow you in here just to frighten you."

She crossed her arms. "So you just jumped on the opportunity when it arose?"

"Actually, I'm here to pick up lunch for everyone back at the shop. Called ahead. Nifty little service they offer here. Almost made Jeremy run in and get it, but now," his gaze leisurely took her in in her entirety, the deep red silken shirt she wore, her matching red lipstick and two inch heels, and the elegant black skirt that fell to mid-thigh, "now I'm extremely glad I didn't."

She rolled her eyes, though her feminine pride was annoyingly appeased by his blatant appreciation. Maybe she was a little bit over dressed for the Grill, but she was pleased she looked as good as she did. She felt much more herself than when he'd returned her mail to her on painting day.

Of course, it went without saying that she'd have preferred to run into Jeremy. And not just because his boss was obnoxious. As of lately, she hadn't hardly seen her brother at all. It wasn't that he was mad at her or avoiding her – at least she certainly hoped not! – but rather that he was always busy, staying out late and going in early, working extra hours at Salvatore Ink, or locked up in his room sketching, or more recently, helping Damon move. Into his family mansion. Where Stefan also lived.

Yeah, ugh to that last. That meant that now when she went to drop Diana off with Stefan or pick her up, there was a chance of running into him. Maybe Stefan would agree to come to her house to get Diana. They could probably work that out somehow.

But anyway, back to Jeremy.

Lightly biting on the swell of a plump lower lip, she asked, "Since you mentioned Jeremy, he's - doing okay?" She paused to consider her next words, then continued in a rush, "It's just, sometimes, he gets into things he shouldn't, like drugs, and if he gets around that stuff – I mean, I- I'm pretty sure he's clean right now, he's been clean for a while, so I'm not saying he would, just that he has, so I'm just worried that if - "

Damon held up a hand, cutting her off. "Stop right there. I already told him if he ever shows up high or drunk, he's out – no second chances. He won't find that shit at my place."

Some of the coldness in her demeanor might've thawed an infinitesimal bit. But that was all. Just a bit. "That's … really good to hear. Thank you. And I'm sorry if it sounded like I was implying … I didn't mean that I thought you were, or would …." She blew out her breath, and a lock of hair in her face flipped up. "You know what I'm trying to say."

"I do. It's not even on the table, so you don't have to worry about it."

Elena nodded again and glanced around for Becky. Girl sure was taking her sweet time.

Damon took a step forward. Elena took a step back. Her breath quickened, rose up in her throat like a small frightened bird trying to flutter free.

But he simply leaned an elbow on the hostess podium and studied her with an intent, soul-reading gaze. Several protracted, tortuous seconds ticked by. He didn't say a word, only pushed some hair from his face. Long, soft looking strands of hair, deep and dark as midnight, that she could just imagine tangling and twisting about her fingers and using to pull his face in close so he could put those oh-so-kissable lips on her –

Nothing. Mental slap. He'd be putting those kissable lips on her nothing.

Gah! Did he have to look so gorgeous and delicious and like he was the ultimate ticket to hardcore, kinky sex town? Sigh. Something was seriously wrong with her.

Averting her gaze, she did her best not to look at him. Or squirm. She wanted to block him out and focus on … well, anything else. But it was impossible.

"Any thoughts?" he inquired.

She looked over at that, even though she knew that this attempt at small talk was a way of baiting her. She really shouldn't respond. Do not engage. Nevertheless, she found herself raising an eyebrow. "I have lots of thoughts. You don't want to know most of them right now."

A small smile. "Let me clarify. Any thoughts on what tattoo you'd like to get? My offer still stands."

She could only shake her head. Was he really serious?

The silver hoop in his eyebrow twinkled in the amber restaurant lights. She had the strangest urge to reach up and touch it. Maybe stand on her tip toes and kiss it. Lick it and wiggle it with her tongue.

A scowl settled on her lips, and she jerked her gaze away. Barely suppressing the impulse to tell him to go screw himself, she said instead, "I already told you I'm not letting you touch me."

"We'll see." His response was so completely infuriating. "Saw your new sign. Very fancy. I like how the blue dragonfly really ties it all together."

"Thanks," she said curtly. She was not pleased that he liked it. She wasn't. Please, like she cared what he thought of anything she did. And there definitely wasn't a double meaning behind his dragonfly comment. There was no way he'd remember. Why would he?

"So, when's the grand opening?"

She smoothed her skirt over her thighs, brushing away some imaginary lint. "Next week."

He followed the movement of her hands. The want in his blue eyes was easy to read. It made her feel intensely desirable – something she hadn't felt in a very long time. He said, "I'll have to stop in. Check the place out."

"Why?" Dark, smokey lashes batted coyly at him. "Need a new nightie?"

He cocked his head. "When you say it like that, I'm thinking maybe I do."

Now she was confused. "When I say it like what?"

"Like you're flirting with me."

She narrowed dark eyes at him. "I was not flirting with you."

Bright blue eyes bored right back into hers. "Sure you weren't."

Under the heat of his gaze, her mouth went dry, and her panties grew damp. Nevertheless, she raised her chin up, signaling pure defiance, determined not to show him any weakness. "I wasn't!"

He straightened. "You were definitely flirting with me." Sly grin. "Admit it."

"No, because that is so not what I was doing. I would never do that. Not with you."

"Ouch."

She tensed as he shifted closer, so close she had no choice but to look up to keep eye contact. Only an inch separated their bodies.

He said in a voice that was deep and whiskey-rough, "Tell me, Elena, are you wearing lace right now?"

A silk and lace black bra that cupped her breasts as tightly as any lover ever had, plumping them perfectly for display, and a matching thong. But she wasn't about to tell him that. "Wouldn't you like to find out?"

His eyes flared, a sure tell that the answer to that question for him was a most definite yes. "See? Definitely flirting."

A blush roared up her cheeks. She should have been infuriated by his insinuation. Why wasn't she infuriated? She tried to summon some fury into her words, so they'd have a little sting. "Oh, shut up."

His lips curved into an easy, sexy grin. "Good comeback."

She huffed her exasperation and turned around, crossing her arms and staring determinedly at the hostess who was walking at a freaking snail's pace, dang it. She freaking hated, hated, how this man could so easily make her turn bright red. Apparently, getting under her skin was a special talent of his.

Speaking of getting under her skin, she was hyper-aware that he was still right behind her, could feel him like a solid wall of heat, could smell his scent, clean and masculine, as it surrounded her. She tried not to surrender to the impulse to inhale him into her lungs as deeply as possible. She failed.

"You know, we still have yet to establish why you're here." His warm breath was a soft whisper on her ear. A shiver passed through her. She knew he saw it, which sparked another short-lived burst of embarrassment.

"I'm meeting my friends for lunch," she said.

"Can I buy you a drink while you wait for your gal pals? I hear the mint juleps here are to die for."

She blinked, completely thrown off-balance by this unexpected question. "How did you know - " that I love mint juleps? She cut herself off. "No, you know what? Never mind. No." And then because that sounded harsh even to her ears, she added lamely, "I'm not much for day drinking."

"Tomorrow night, then," he countered, "I'm meeting up with some old buddies of mine to play pool. Wanna come?"

Her mouth opened – it was her jaw dropping in shock. Wanna come - with him? No. Why would he ask her that? Why would he want that? Why did she want that? Wait … did she want that? Maybe … but for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why. He was the bad guy. Public enemy #1. No. Of course she wasn't going anywhere with him. Because she hated him.

"Come on, it'll be fun." The dark promise in his tone set her blood afire, rushing, pulsing with heat, and made her wetter still. Without a doubt, he sensed the turmoil raging inside, the desire like a yawning, clawing hole opening up inside her. "Give me another chance, Elena. Let me prove to you I'm not the same person I was seven years ago."

Dammit, she was almost charmed. Then, she remembered how he'd left her those seven years ago without a single word, not even a good bye, and how he'd shown back up now without a single apology or acceptable excuse, and she had no idea what his true intentions were. Whatever they were, she didn't think she could ever trust him again. She certainly wasn't giving him another opportunity to hurt her.

After the harsh and insistent voice of past experience had dropped a metaphorical bucket of ice water all over her, ruthlessly extinguishing any flares of idiotically burgeoning desire, she cut her eyes at him with a gaze as sharp as freshly whetted razor blades. "No. Absolutely not."

He didn't seem at all phased by her rejection. Actually, he seemed like it was totally expected. An unconcerned shrug. "Maybe some other time then."

"I don't think so." She had learned her lesson when it came to bad boy Damon Salvatore. He was the last thing she needed in her, or her daughter's, life. "You really can't take a hint, can you?"

He grinned like the proverbial Cheshire Cat. "Nope."

Diana chose that moment to burst through the glass doors and reenter the main part of the restaurant.

"Mom?" Racing to Elena's side and sliding her small hand into hers, Diana stared wide-eyed up at the frightening tatted and pierced man.

Smile vanishing, Damon backed up a step, gaze dropping to better take in the small child that had appeared unexpectedly at her side. "Uh … hey, there."

Diana stayed silent, very unusual for the bubbly child. She was fierce at heart and brave as a tiny lion cub, even at six years old. Elena often wondered how she'd turned out so bold and fearless and frequently found herself wishing that she had a little bit more of that in herself.

Damon looked askance at Elena. "Yours?"

She entwined her fingers ever more tightly with Diana's. "Yes, she's mine." Emphasis on the mine.

To his credit, he was able to mostly hide the surprise that flashed across his face. He channeled it into a broad smile that he aimed at her daughter. "Well, hello. I don't think we've met before."

As Elena watched two pairs of practically identical blue eyes meet and connect for pretty much the first time ever, her chest constricted painfully, and an unexpected and unbearable wave of sadness crashed through her. It was like getting to see a phantom scene of the one thing she'd wanted so badly for so long – the family that could've been, if life had been … different. Kinder. The family her daughter deserved.

"This is Diana," she said when her daughter didn't respond right away. The sadness had receded to a manageable level. Elena's new primary emotion was fear. This was what she'd been seeking to avoid with all her heart and soul. But if she freaked out and dragged Diana away like she was tempted to do, it would only look even more suspicious.

Deep, heartfelt, internal sigh. She smoothed back a lock of Diana's black hair. It was straight as a board. Just like hers. She supposed this moment was doomed to occur the second he came back to town, since she could hardly realistically succeed in keeping Diana, an extroverted, dynamic little spitfire of a child, hidden from sight, but oh, how she'd been hoping to put off this moment for as long as possible.

If she had even an ounce of luck on her side, Damon wouldn't pry too much. Or look at Diana too closely with , you know, his eyeballs or anything. Flaming crap on a stick. He'd have to be blind not to see the resemblance.

He crouched down and smiled. "Diana. That is a very pretty name. I'm Damon."

"Uncle Stefan's brother," Elena added, though even as the words left her mouth, she wasn't sure why she was trying to help his introduction any. Diana absolutely adored her Uncle Stefan, and by linking Damon to him, Elena was ensuring some of that affection would automatically transfer.

"Hey, yeah, that's right." Damon smoothly went with it, but she had seen another, not quite as successfully concealed look of surprise appear when he heard the word uncle. "Uncle Stefan's my brother."

Diana's eyes narrowed. Oh lord, Elena had no idea what this strong-willed child was about to come out with. "Are you a pirate?"

A genuine laugh fell from his lips. "I wish."

"Okay," Elena interceded, "the hostess is coming back." Even though Becky wasn't doing any such thing. But this needed to end.

Reacting to the anxiety in her voice, Damon straightened and gave her a long searching look, trying to riddle it all out. "So, you, uh … you have a daughter. I didn't know that you were - " Married. He didn't say that exactly, but she could fill in the blanks. His eyes darted to her hands, then quickly away. "I just mean, you don't wear a …." Ring.

Glossy red lips pursed. "That's right, I'm not married, so why would I wear a ring?"

"Your boyfriend - " he began slowly.

"I'm not in a relationship," she replied in a tone of pure killing frost.

"Ah."

That single sound was laced with a wealth of meaning, and she couldn't interpret any of it. Her anger started to rise. Was that all he was going to say? Judgmental asshole much? Or maybe she was just hyper sensitive about the issue. But either way -

"My mom says we're not supposed to draw on our skin with sharpies. They're for paper only."

Diana's cute toothless lisp instantly diverted the tension. Damon laughed and squatted down again. "Well, your mom's absolutely right. Luckily, these are tattoos, not markers. You can look if you want. I promise I don't bite." He winked. "Much."

Diana took a step closer to see better, projecting curiosity and wariness. Elena refused to relinquish her hand, but she remained quiet as Damon started pointing to some of his least offensive tattoos, including the black rose on his hand and a stylized car engine higher up his forearm. He conversed easily with her daughter, who seemed fascinated.

Elena definitely understood the fascination. The tattoos on his arms weren't one cohesive sleeve or theme – they were more like a shotgun blast of different, beautiful black and gray tattoos all puzzle pieced together in a way that just worked and looked sexy as hell in contrast with his pale skin. He had more tattoos now than he did seven years ago. She saw a panther prowling up one forearm and a hot rod pin up girl with a devil's horns and tail that were new to her.

Her thoughts instantly rushed to a memory of him with his shirt off, showing her the chiseled cut of his abs and sexy pattern of ink, the sheer artistry of his body on full, breathtaking display. Just as with his arms, she could only imagine that he'd added on to what had been there seven years ago.

Naturally, this triggered wildly inappropriate fantasies of ripping his shirt off and verifying first hand his new ink - with her fingertips and tongue.

Damon's gaze strayed up to meet hers over top of Diana's dark head. She flushed when she realized she'd been staring and he could probably tell she'd been undressing him with her eyes.

Diana stuck out her bottom lip, dragging them both back to the here and now - thank god. "It looks like sharpie."

He nodded. "I guess it kinda does. Maybe someday, if it's alright with your mom, I can show you how tattoos are actually made. It's waaay cooler than a sharpie."

"Will you show me how to make a unicorn tattoo?"

"Oh, of course."

Diana's angelic smile lit up her whole face. Just like that, she decided Uncle Stefan's brother was A-Okay. "I want to make a pirate dinosaur unicorn tattoo."

He nodded very seriously. "Who doesn't?"

"Mom?" her daughter asked hopefully.

"Um, we'll see." It was the first thing that came to her. She was trying to hold her rising panic in check for the sake of her sensitive daughter, but absolutely not. Over her dead body. Never gonna happen. And it had nothing to do with tattoos and everything to do with Damon Salvatore. She wanted to keep Diana as far away from him as she could.

Why did he have to be picking up lunch at the same time and place where she was having lunch?

Diana pouted. We'll see almost always meant no.

Just then, Becky finally returned and said to Elena and Diana, "Okay, you guys can come with me." To Damon, "I'll be right with you, sir."

Oh, thank the sweet lord. Elena felt a hell of a lot like she'd just been saved by the bell. "Come on, Diana."

"Good bye," Diana smiled shyly at Damon. "I like your tattoos."

"Bye, Diana, it was very nice to meet you. You're a very beautiful young lady." Elena didn't like the way he was looking at Diana so intently. "Hey, by the way, real quick, how old are you?"

"She's in first grade." Elena tried to tug Diana away before any more questions were asked or answered. But Diana loved to tell people how old she was.

"I'm six! My birthday is March fourth."

He swallowed, hard. "Six," he repeated, sounding slightly strangled. His brow was slowly creeping into a more and more furrowed position.

"Yep, that's right," Elena said in a forced cheery voice. She wasn't at all pleased by the perceptive, and stunned, look on his face. "Come on, Diana. Becky's waiting for us. Let's go pick out a seat for Aunt Care and Aunt Bon-Bon."

"Yes," Diana shouted excitedly, "I get to pick!"

She immediately ran off, scampering after the hostess. Damon rose from his crouch and started towards Elena, who said a curt bye before pivoting on one stylish red heel and walking away from him as quickly as possible.

"Elena - " she heard him call out behind her.

But she shot him such a fierce look over her shoulder that he halted in his tracks and wisely dropped whatever he'd been about to say. Her head whipped back around, and she marched away after her daughter, refusing to let herself look back again.

The hostess escorted them to a table in one corner, and she sat down woodenly, Diana's excited chatter passing by her in a blur.

She could feel Damon's eyes on them like a physical weight. He didn't once stop looking their way, not when Caroline and Bonnie entered and gave him rude looks in passing, not when other random women entered and smiled flirtatiously at him, hoping he'd notice, not when the hostess was handing him his take out order. Not until he left.

In the wake of his absence, fear completely took over, settling in her limbs like dead weight, almost paralyzing her with terror. She did her best to act normal whilst her best friends and daughter laughed and ordered and ate around her.

But it was hard. Because she felt only dread for what was to come. Because he had to have figured it out, and she had no idea what he was going to do.