Damien's POV:

I took my frustration out on the punching bag my trainer was holding for me. Phoebe still was not talking to me and left for work early this morning before I even woke up. I wanted to have lunch with her, but she had dodged me all day at the office too. She was being immature and pissing me off, something she was great at doing.

"Fiancée troubles?" he held the bag as still as he could.

"You could say that," I continued to pretend that the bag was Blaine's face.

Phoebe would never forgive if I really fought Blaine, so the punching bag would have to do.

At work, my first stop was my father's office. It was his fault this was all happening and he deserved to be in as much trouble as I was.

"You need to fix this," I stormed into my father's office.

He glared up at me from his phone, "I'll call you back. Hello son, what was so goddamn important that you had to barge into my office like a madman?"

"You're plan of blackmailing Blaine's boss is interfering with my relationship with Phoebe."

"What do I have to do with your relationship? Why can't you fix it yourself?"

My father was never good with relationships, hence why he was married four times. I don't think his current wife even likes him, she just likes what he can give her. They rarely saw each other and slept in different rooms in the house, yet somehow managed to look like a happy couple for the photographers. I was not close with Stepmother Number Four and rarely saw her myself besides for company events.

"I can't lie to my fiancée, we don't have that type of relationship."

"So tell her," my father shrugged.

"She'll leave me!"

My father sighed, "Then don't tell her, I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not a therapist whatever you do in your relationship is your business."

Oliver stuck his head into my father's office, "Mr. Mancuso is on line two."

"Sometimes I wish he was my son," my father said, "He doesn't cause me as much grief as you do with your constant complaining."

Being my father's only child, I was forever hearing how he wished that he had another child. Growing up, hearing my father say that used to hurt me, not anymore. It grew old real fast, especially since I always wished that I had another father. I was the product of Wife Number Two and my father. My mother had her own personal wealth and did not rely on my father for anything. I loved my mother and could never understand what she saw in my father. She didn't either.

"The feelings' mutual," I slammed his office door shut.

Oliver looked up from his computer and shook his head. He had grown used to hearing and seeing my father argue; it was part of his job.

"Have you seen Phoebe today?" I asked him.

Oliver and Phoebe's friendship became useful to me at times like these. I knew that Oliver was one of Phoebe's best friends and I would sometimes use him as Intel on her.

"No way," Oliver's eyebrows rose, "I'm not getting in the middle of this argument."

"I know that you know Oliver, just tell me what she knows."

"You know that I can't do that."

I leaned over his desk and gave him my most charming smile, "Come on Ollie."

"Phoebe said that you would try to use your charm on me, now I owe her twenty bucks."

"So you've seen her today," I tried to get him to talk, "Where is she?"

"Haven't seen her since lunch," Oliver lied.

I knew the two of them saw each other a lot more than that, "I'm your boss."

"You're really using the boss card?"

"If I have to."

Oliver was more like a younger brother to me, who happened to like checking out my butt whenever I walked by, but still a younger brother. Even before he became Phoebe's best friend, he was at all of our family parties. My father cared for Oliver, especially since he did not have a family of his own.

"Your father needs copies," he stood up, "Good luck on your relationship."

Great, now Oliver was mad at me.

Phoebe's POV:

I ignored another call from Damien and turned my attention back to Blithe. All day, my phone was flooded with apologetic text messages. Damien had sent flowers to my office, I gave them to my assistant. Blithe and I were having dinner and waiting for our meals to come.

"Are you coming to my mom's grand opening tomorrow night?" Blithe picked up a piece of bread from the bowl.

I had forgotten that I promised Abby that I would be there, "Of course."

"You totally forgot," Blithe grinned, "That's alright, just bring that hot fiancé of yours and you'll be forgiven."

"He won't be coming."

"Uh oh, trouble in paradise?"

I did not care that Blithe was Blaine's sister, I still confided in her as if nothing changed. She was unbiased and never tried to push me back with Blaine, unlike Meredith and Abby. I knew that Abby was just looking out for Blaine, it just made it hard to talk about anything Damien related with her.

"Damien is just being stupid and insecure."

I did not want to talk about business with Blithe, especially if I did not have any proof of what Damien was doing.

"The two of you will work whatever it is out and then go back to being totally in love. Where the fuck is our food?" Blithe looked around, "I'm about to eat all of my weight in this bread."

Blithe of course was exaggerating. She looked absolutely flawless in her work attire and many of the men in the room kept stealing glances at her. Blithe liked to act like they were looking at me. Our waiter finally brought our food over. I listened to Blithe tell me about her dating life and felt relieved that I did not have to deal with that anymore. By the end of the night, we were full and a little drunk.

"I love eating with you, I always get free things," Blithe hugged me as O'Keefe held the door open for her.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

As O'Keefe drove me back to my apartment, I told him to take the long way. I was doing a good job avoiding Damien and I wanted it to last. Darcy's picture lit up my phone, causing me to smile.

"I'm baaaaaack!" Darcy sang into the phone.

I missed talking to her, "How was the honeymoon?"

"You mean fantastic sex day and night?" Darcy giggled, "It was perfect. I can't wait until you get married."

"If I get married."

"I've been gone for two weeks and you've already ended your engagement?"

"Don't start Darce," I was too tired to get into an argument with her over Damien, "How did Charlie react to the news?"

She snorted, "Why do you think we had the best sex of our lives? He was over the moon. All he could talk about were baby names and signing up for pre-schools. I couldn't even tune him out by drinking."

I wished that Damien had the same reaction when I told him that I wanted a baby. I was jealous of my best friend and I hated myself for it.

"I'm happy for you guys," I tried my best to sound convincing.

"All we need is for the two of you to get your shit together and have a baby so that our kids can grow up together and be best friends."

"That would only happen if the two of you move to New York."

Darcy was silent for the first time in her life.

"YOU'RE MOVING TO NEW YORK?"

She erupted into laughter, "We decided after the wedding."

It felt like it had been forever since Darcy and I lived on the same coast. I wish that we were in the same room so that I could hug her. I missed having easy access to my best friend.

"When?" I became excited, "Omigod, where are you guys going to live?"

"We're trying to sell the apartment before looking at places. We've been looking at apartments in Queens and Brooklyn, nothing is set yet. Charlie obviously wants everything done before the baby comes and my father is helping us out."

"Whatever you need me to do, I'm in. I can go look at apartments for you whenever you want. I'll take tons of pictures and send them to you."

"Calm down," Darcy said, "One step at a time. We haven't even sold the apartment yet."

She was right, it did not mean that I could not be happy though. We talked the rest of the way home, planning what else needed to be done. When O'Keefe pulled up to the apartment, I groaned. He was not dumb, he knew that I was avoiding going back. I had called him early this morning to pick me a lot earlier than I usually did. I told him that I wanted to workout before work and had other errands to run. O'Keefe had been around long enough to know whenever Damien and I were arguing.

I tried to be as quiet as possible entering the apartment, but Batman and Robin gave me away. They waited for me every day by the door to get back from wherever I was coming from. I could hear Damien in his office talking on the phone then pause once he heard the dogs barking. He did not come to the door so I walked upstairs to our bedroom. I began stripping myself of my work clothes so that I could get in the shower and go to bed.

"Jesus," I jumped as Damien stood in the doorway.

"Sorry."

I continued taking off my jewelry and clothes, pointedly ignoring Damien's presence even though I could feel his eyes follow my movements.

"Where've you been?" Damien questioned.

"I had dinner with Blithe. I didn't think you would be home."

"I left the office early so that we could talk."

"I'm too drunk to talk," I lied.

"Good, then you'll listen," Damien sat down on the bed, "There are some things that I can't tell you when it comes to the business. I know you think that I'm doing this because of Blaine, but I signed confidentiality agreements."

"And these agreements just happen to be with Blaine's boss? I'm not stupid Damien."

"I never said that you were, it doesn't mean that I can tell you though. I know Blaine has been a sore topic in the past between us and I'm trying to not let him get to me anymore. I hate having to work with him, but I can't change it. My father and Blaine's boss already signed the contracts which means that I'm going to have to see him a lot more than I want to. I don't want to spend the rest of our lives arguing with you every time it comes to him. I'm trying here Pheebs, I really am."

I looked Damien in the eye and he seemed genuine, "Okay."

"Okay as in I get to sleep in the bed tonight or okay is in you're getting ready to tell me to fuck off?"

"Okay as in you get to sleep in Batman's spot tonight."

"I love you," Damien pulled me to him, "I don't want our relationship jeopardized over this."

"It won't be," I promised, "I don't want to have this same argument with you again."

"We won't."