Save Me - Chapter 16: Chapter 17

Dahlia
"I'm concerned now, so I'm coming in." A moment later, Carol burst into the stall. "Well, damn. You're officially the hottest thing I've seen all day, and that's saying something because that husband of yours is pretty hot. Rude, but hot."
I giggled, pride swelling in my chest. But it was only pride in my appearance, of course. Feeling proud over a man who didn't even really belong to me would be ridiculous, right? Right.
"Sit down, I've got an idea." I obeyed, taking a seat on the bench. Through the mirror, I watched Carol pull my hair into a stylishly messy up-do that was far better than anything I could do. With a triumphant "aha," she fished out a tube of lipstick from her jacket pocket and applied a deep red that matched my dress perfectly.
"Now, let's go drive your husband out of his mind. Revenge for calling me a clone. Oh, he's going to be in so much pain. Do me a favor, sweetheart, don't give him any until at least the end of the night."
She might as well have been speaking a different language. "What are you talking about? Why would Damien be in pain?"
"From the hard-on he'll be sporting when he sees you, sweetheart. He was already halfway there when y'all walked in—I could tell. Married and still drooling after you, what's your secret?"
When her meaning finally hit me, my cheeks burned. She couldn't be more wrong. How could Damien be attracted to me? He barely knew me. But still, the champagne must have been getting to me because I found myself liking the idea of Damien drooling over me.
What if I told you that I was naked? Ugh why did I keep replaying those words in my head?
"Okay, fine, keep your sex secrets, Missy. Hold on, I've got the perfect heels for that dress."
"But I've never worn heels before."
"Well, it's about time you start because not only will they make those gorgeous legs look longer, but it'd be a tragedy to wear flats with that dress. Give me ten seconds."
Exactly ten seconds later, she reentered with a pair of red pumps. "As an act of mercy, I got you thick-soled heels. Put them on!" I complied, slipping my feet into the shoes.
"He's going to be a mess when he sees you. Payback is a bitch, ain't it?" she said with a mischievous smirk.
When we stepped out of the dressing room, I secretly hoped Carol was right.
"Well, it's about damn time—" Damien's voice cut off abruptly when he saw me.
"So, what do you think?" I attempted a twirl, hoping to mask my nerves.
Damien was silent for a long moment, his expression intense. His jaw clenched, and his dark brows drew together as his gaze swept over me, making my skin tingle like I'd been touched by fire. Oh, great. I must've chosen something too revealing.
"I thought I'd wear it to dinner, but if you'd prefer something more modest, I can—"
Before I could finish, Damien stood up, closing the distance between us so fast I lost my breath. He was so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. When he gently traced his thumb over my lips, I felt lightheaded, looks like the champagne had gone straight to my head.
"Only you could look divine in a color so sinful," he murmured, his voice hoarse.
No, he didn't seem angry, I realized. "You look hungry, Damien." I frowned, suddenly feeling bad for making him wait so long without a single snack.
"Starving." His voice was strained as he lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to my palm, his smoldering gaze locking onto mine until I had to look away.
"Then we better get going."
Damien paid for all the dresses while I tried not to think about the price tags. The guilt would've been too much. Before we left, I hugged Carol goodbye, and she beamed at me. She said Damien had given her the biggest tip of her entire career. I shot him a grateful smile, thankful he'd done that for her. Carol handed me her business card, insisting I call her for any future fashion emergencies.
The restaurant Damien took me to, Casa De Comida, was the fanciest restaurant I'd ever set foot in. Okay, I hadn't exactly been to many fancy restaurants before—just diners—but even I could tell this was top-of-the-line. We were seated at a corner table with a stunning view of the city at sunset. Massive lighting fixtures hung from the ceilings, casting a warm glow over the elegant space.
"Dahlia, are you okay?" Damien's voice snapped me out of my trance, and I refocused on him across the table.
"I'm good," I squeaked, immediately cringing at how small my voice sounded. "Sorry, I'm just not used to this kind of luxury. Or any kind, really."
"But you are Gilbert Hall's granddaughter, one of the richest men in the city. Surely, he has taken you to places like this before."
The waiter came to take our orders. The menu was entirely in Spanish, and I wasn't familiar with any of the dishes, so I gratefully let Damien order for both of us.
I was surprised Robert hadn't told Damien everything about my mother and me. I had assumed Damien knew my mother's condition when I returned from visiting her, but now it seemed he didn't know much about my past at all. In a way, I was relieved—I wanted to be the one to share my story. It made our strange relationship feel a bit more...normal.
"I only found out I was Gilbert Hall's granddaughter a month ago actually. Before that, I didn't even know he existed."
Damien's brow furrowed, but he nodded, waiting for me to continue.
"I should start from the beginning." I took a deep breath. "I was raised solely by my mom, Juliette Hall—or Elizabeth Saunders, as I know her. She ran away from her family before I was born."
"Before you were born? You did not ask her why?"
I found myself unable to mention my mother's coma, as though saying it out loud to Damien would break my carefully curated dam of optimism and all my worst fears would come flooding out. I needed to stay strong and hopeful for her.
"She wouldn't say. But I'm sure she has a good reason. My mom wouldn't have left her family without one." I had to believe that, just as I had to believe there was a good reason she'd kept such an important part of her life hidden from me.
"Where did you grow up?" he asked, and I was grateful he didn't pry further. I wasn't sure how many half-truths I could tell before breaking down completely.
"Everywhere." I smiled, thinking of all the places we'd lived. I shared stories with him of the cities and towns we'd called home, our time in the mountains, and even our beloved trailer, Patricia. I laughed at his raised eyebrows when I told him my mom had homeschooled me from birth, and I'd never set foot in a classroom. And that if I could choose between my unconventional upbringing and a more 'normal' life, I'd pick the former every time.
"It sounds like you and your mom are close," Damien said, his small smile growing with each story I shared. It was rare to see him smile, and the sight was breathtaking. "It must be hard to be away from her."
"It has been," I admitted quietly. Fortunately, that was when our waiter brought our food, giving me a chance to look away and blink back the tears.
We ate in comfortable silence, the incredible flavors making it hard to think about anything else. Every bite was a revelation. I glanced up mid-meal to find Damien staring at me, his gaze intense.
"What?" I asked, swallowing a mouthful of deliciousness.
"You've got some sauce on your lip."
Mortified, I reached for my napkin, but Damien leaned over first, swiping his thumb across my lips before drawing it into his mouth to suck the sauce off. His eyes never left mine, and I was genuinely worried my heart might be on the verge of a medical emergency.
I took a large sip of wine, trying to steady myself. Today, I'd consumed more alcohol than I ever had before, and Damien Black was entirely to blame.
"So, tell me about your family," I said, desperate for a distraction.
I instantly regretted it when his entire demeanor shifted. His heated gaze grew cold, his expression hardened, and his posture stiffened. It was as if a completely different man had taken Damien's place. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could speak, a man suddenly slammed his hands on our table, glaring at Damien.
"Going to my favorite restaurant without me? You're not cheating on me, are you, Pookie?"