Chapter 3
“Was it important?”
Charlotte looked at him.
“Yes.”
“Then urgency was a poor judge.”
Across the ballroom, Preston watched Charlotte occupy the full depth of her chair.
For three years, he had taught her to shorten stories, soften opinions and apologize before disagreeing.
Damon Moretti seemed interested in precisely the parts Preston had trained her to remove.
And Preston hated it.
Not because he had suddenly realized he loved Charlotte.
But because the man whose judgment controlled his career considered her worth listening to.
At the end of the hour, Damon stood.
“I’d like to continue this conversation somewhere without twelve people pretending not to hear it.”
Charlotte smiled.
“Are there only twelve?”
“Fourteen.”
That made her laugh.
Damon’s expression softened.
“Coffee Tuesday?”
He asked at an ordinary volume.
Preston heard.
Charlotte felt the old reflex again.
Check his face.
Protect him.
Don’t embarrass him.
She looked directly at Damon.
“Tuesday would be good.”
Preston stared as though she had slapped him.
Charlotte didn’t feel victorious.
Revenge would have kept Preston at the center of her decision.
This wasn’t revenge.
It was simply proof that her life continued beyond a door he expected her to reopen.
Their coffee lasted two hours.
Damon arrived alone and accepted without argument when Charlotte declined the car he offered afterward.
They discussed the painting, then the Grand Meridian Hotel, a decaying 1920s landmark the city wanted converted into a public arts center.
Damon’s foundation was its largest private donor.
Preston’s division was preparing a major design proposal.
Charlotte stiffened when Damon mentioned it.
“If anything happens between us personally,” she said, “I need one thing understood now.”
“Tell me.”
“I don’t want your influence.”
Damon leaned back.
“Meaning?”
“The city is opening a blind competition for the preservation commission. I intend to enter.”
His expression didn’t change.
“You think I would interfere.”
“I think powerful men sometimes call interference help.”
Silence settled between them.
Then Damon nodded.
“What do you want from me?”
“Recuse yourself.”
“Done.”
“And if my design loses, it loses.”
“Done.”
Charlotte studied him.
“You agreed quickly.”
“You made a reasonable request.”
She almost smiled.
May you like
“That shouldn’t feel unusual.”
“No,” Damon said. “It shouldn’t.”
