Read Damien Page 12


  “Thanks,” Morgan said and sat down across from me. “And for the record, havin’ a little webbiness is cool. You’d outswim me if we were ever in a situation where a shark was chasin’ us and we needed to swim away. He’d get me first, and that’d be an advantage for you.”

  I stared at Morgan for a couple of seconds, then burst into laughter.

  “Oh, my God,” I tittered and covered my mouth with my hand. “You’re weirder than I am!”

  “Hey!” He gasped, feigning offence. “I was tryin’ to make you feel better about starin’ at me and droolin’.”

  “I didn’t drool!”

  I wiped at my chin just to make sure, and Morgan grinned. “Gotcha.”

  I tried not to smile as I glared at him. “You do realise I have the power not to give you this job, right?”

  “Yeah, but then you’d have to settle for someone with regular coloured eyes, and where would be the fun in that?”

  Oh, he was good.

  “I suppose,” I mused. “Eye colour is everythin’ when workin’ in design.”

  “You’d best snap me up quickly then ’cause I heard a bunch of other designers are hirin’ nowadays.”

  I snorted.

  “This is gettin’ worse and worse for you,” Morgan said with a shake of his head. “You stare, you drool, you once had webbed toes, and now you snort when you laugh? The list is never endin’ with you, huh?”

  I picked up my napkin and threw it at him. He caught it before it could hit him in the face, and he had a killer grin in place as he did so. It wasn’t until that moment that I realised he was flirting with me, and I was flirting back. I didn’t mean to, but his easy-going aura relaxed me. I cleared my throat, straightened up, and tapped on my papers.

  “Interview time.”

  He sat up straight. “I’m ready.”

  “What made you apply for me assistant job?

  “Easy,” Morgan said. “I’m a huge fan of your work, and I’ve been followin’ you, or it, for a long time. When I saw that you were lookin’ for an assistant, I jumped at the chance to apply. I can draw, too, and selfishly, I was hopin’ to learn from you as well as work with you.”

  My lips parted. “You want to learn from me?”

  “Definitely. Your work is inspirin’.”

  I felt my cheeks stain with heat.

  “Thank you,” I murmured before looking back down at the questions I had prepared for him. “You’re aware of what your job will entail?”

  When I looked back up, I found him nodding.

  “Overall business management.”

  “And you think you can handle that?” I quizzed. “The number of job offers I’ve received in the past year has tripled, and I can barely read through them enough to organise and prioritise projects that interest me.”

  “We can devise a system,” Morgan said. “Once I know what kind of projects you are drawn too, I can categorise which jobs to prioritise and which ones not to.”

  I nodded and looked back down to my questions.

  “You said you had experience, and I’ve read what you’ve previously done, but what do you think you can bring to my business?”

  “A strong work ethic that will achieve efficiency for your company,” Morgan answered. “I will do everythin’ that keeps you from sketchin’ right now, and I’ll make it better.”

  I looked up and grinned at his confidence.

  “Make it better how?”

  “Your work is outstandin’, but as of right now, you don’t market that very well.”

  “Job offers have tripled for me in the past year,” I repeated. “That seems like marketin’ is doin’ just fine.”

  “But that is through word of mouth and referrals, correct?”

  I hesitated. “I guess.”

  Morgan nodded. “That is fantastic, but I can market you on a higher level and reach people who don’t know you from Adam. Advertisement is the key to success in graphic design. We need your work pushed into potential clients’ faces. You need to be picky and aim for projects that will be successful on their platforms. I’ve seen your designs on book covers, but only one of those has become relatively successful.”

  “So, you think I should work on projects where they will be successful in their own market to draw attention to my designs?”

  “Exactly.” He nodded. “I’m not sayin’ you shouldn’t work on other projects because success can come from anywhere, but right now, you need to get your name known.”

  I nodded, finding myself agreeing with him.

  “That’s another thing,” he said tentatively. “Your business name.”

  I frowned. “What’s wrong with Go-to Designs?”

  “It’s quirky, but not somethin’ that reflects your talent at first glance. You need a business name that will make people take the time to click on your website or social media pages. The name will draw ’em in, and your designs will keep ’em interested. You aren’t a typical graphic designer. You don’t use someone else’s images to create a design; you sketch and make somethin’ completely original. Your images don’t look sketched unless it’s a client’s preference. Your designs look like photos before you scan them to a computer, and we need to market that talent.”

  I felt my ears burn at the praise.

  I lifted my cup of tea and took a sip. “I’m assumin’ you have some names in mind?”

  Morgan’s lips twitched. “A few.”

  “Let’s hear ’em then.”

  “By a few, I really mean one.”

  I laughed. “Go on.”

  “Enigma Creations.”

  I blinked. “I ... I actually really like that.”

  “Brilliant.” Morgan smiled. “Your designs are a mystery to me sometimes because when you draw somethin’, it looks so lifelike, I have to remind meself that you hand drew it.”

  I bit the insides of my cheeks.

  “Thanks, I think Enigma Creations is perfect.”

  “Glad you think so.”

  I went through a few more questions with Morgan, and the more he spoke, the more I wanted to stop him from talking and offer him the job completely. By the time I had asked him the last question, I was grinning like a fool. He smiled back at me.

  “Does that smile mean I got the job?”

  “It most definitely does.”

  Morgan beamed. “Deadly.”

  “I’m goin’ to convert me spare bedroom into an office, so eventually, I’ll have a place for you to come and work. I originally intended just to have you as an online manager of things, but I think havin’ a work space will be much better. Does that suit you?”

  “You have no idea how much.”

  We worked out an hourly wage and work schedule, and then we chatted a little bit. I learned Morgan was twenty-one, and he was originally from Finglas but moved to Tallaght with his parents when he was a kid. Like me, he attended the Dublin Institute of Design and had just graduated with his BA in graphic design. He was an only child and wasn’t very close to his parents. After I finished another cup of tea and Morgan drank a coffee, we stood to leave the café.

  “I’ll email you tomorrow, and we can go over everythin’ and make the changes we discussed today.”

  “Sounds good, we’ve finished just in time for me to meet up with me girlfriend.” Morgan said, fixing his bag’s straps over his shoulders. “I’ll speak to you tomorrow, Miss Ryan.”

  “Please, call me Alannah.”

  “Alannah,” Morgan smiled and bowed his head. “Thank you for givin’ me a chance, I won’t let you down.”

  I was going to offer him a lift but decided against it. I didn’t want to jump straight into a friendship with Morgan; my business came first, and he was now my employee, so I had to keep boundaries. When we parted, I watched him walk away, and I noticed that a group of girls and women stopped and focused on him as he fit his earbuds into his ears. I smiled and shook my head, wondering if he knew just how good looking he was.

  As I walked to the
multi-storey car park to retrieve my car, my phone rang.

  “Heya, Ma,” I said upon answering. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m just callin’ to say me and Da are goin’ shoppin’, so I won’t be home if you stop by.”

  I frowned. “Okay, will you be home tomorrow?”

  “Yep.”

  “I’ll pop around then,” I said. “I’ll call you tonight before you go to sleep. What time do you think that’ll be?”

  “You don’t have to phone me, love.”

  I got into my car. “I want to.”

  Ma chuckled. “I’m usually asleep by half nine.”

  “I’ll call at quarter to.”

  “Okay,” she said. “How was your interview with that lad?”

  “Brilliant.” I beamed. “I hired ’im, and I’m so pleased about it. I’m excited because he has some great ideas for the business.”

  “I’m chuffed for you, love.”

  “Thanks, Ma.”

  “I’ll speak to you later.”

  “Okay, bye. I love you.”

  “I love you too, bear.”

  After we hung up, I drove back to Tallaght and headed straight for Bronagh’s house. I was pleased to see no cars in the garden apart from Nico’s because it meant no one else was in the house with them. I loved our group, but it had grown so much over the years that it was rare for Bronagh and me to hang out one on one. After I parked my car in the driveway, I headed towards the front door. I was about to knock but decided to test the handle first and was pleased to find it gave way and opened.

  I didn’t think to announce myself. The sitting room was empty, so the next obvious place for me to check was the kitchen.

  “Hey, Bee,” I said, pushing the door open. “Wait till I tell you about—OHMYGOD!”

  I screamed, Bronagh screamed, and Nico laughed.

  Currently, my best friend was bent over the kitchen table with her jeans and knickers around her ankles. Nico’s tight bare arse was on display for all, or just me, to see, and his jeans were pushed down to his mid thighs. I had no doubt from the position he was in behind Bronagh and the grip he had on her bare hips where the rest of his body was.

  “Oh, Jesus Christ!” I paled. “I’m so sorry.”

  I need to bleach my eyes.

  That thought ran wild in my head as I pulled the kitchen door shut with a firm slam, turned and ran down the hallway, only to crash into a body of muscle when I opened the front door. I yelped and instantly fell backwards, only to be grabbed mid-air, swung around, and pressed against a hard body as I hit the ground. Or as the body I landed on hit the ground. The impact knocked the breath out of me, so when I gasped, the person under me struggled to sit us up.

  “Alannah, are you okay?”

  Damien.

  Once I took a few breaths, I managed to get to my feet with Damien helping me as he got to his.

  “I’m fine,” I rasped then looked down at my skirt. “Shite, did I rip it?”

  I turned around so Damien could see if I ruined my skirt, and when he didn’t answer, I said, “Damien, did I ruin it?”

  He cleared his throat. “It’s perfect.”

  I blew out a relieved breath. “Thank God, this is the only suit I have.”

  His eyes raised to my face, and he paused. “What’s with all the make up?”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  He squinted. “I can’t see your freckles.”

  “So?”

  “So, I like being able to see them. They’re pretty, you’re pretty without all … that.”

  Hearing him call me pretty caused butterflies to flutter around my stomach.

  “Does that mean make up makes me ugly?”

  “No!” Damien balked. “You look good. I guess I’m just used to you not wearing it. You look perfect either way, but … I like being able to see your freckles.”

  Those damn freckles.

  “I only wore it for me interview to look put together.”

  I turned toward the kitchen when I could have sworn I heard a climatic moan, and my cheeks burned with heat. At the reminder of what I was running away from and caused me to crash into Damien in the first place, I cringed.

  “I need to go,” I said and tried to push by Damien, but he wouldn’t let me.

  “No,” he said firmly. “Tell me what’s wrong first.”

  I huffed. “What’s wrong is I just saw me best friend takin’ it like a champ, and to top it off, I saw your brother’s bare arse!”

  Damien stared down at me for a moment, then he laughed. Hard.

  “You walked in on Dominic and Bronagh having sex?” he asked, his shoulders shaking.

  I placed my hands on my burning cheeks.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “And I can never look either of them in the eye again.”

  He continued to laugh, and it was only then I realised how close we were standing to one another. I took a step back, hoping I wasn’t being obvious that I wanted space, but from the clench of Damien’s jaw, he noticed my intentions.

  “How did your interview go?” he asked, shoving his hands into his jean pockets.

  I perked up.

  “It went brilliantly. Morgan is just what I need.”

  At Damien’s raised brow, I added, “He’ll help me massively with the business. It’ll really take a load off me.”

  “I’m glad,” he then said. “Anything to put less weight on your shoulders is good.”

  I nodded in agreement but froze when the kitchen door opened.

  “Is she still here?”

  I closed my eyes. “Stay where you are, tight arse.”

  The twins laughed.

  “I’m shoutin’ when I enter this house in the future so this never happens again,” I said, opening my eyes. “That is a visual I can never erase.”

  “Alannah, c’mere.”

  I moved around Damien and shielded my eyes with my hands as I walked by Nico, which the twins found hilarious. When I was inside the kitchen, I closed the door behind me, and exhaled a deep breath.

  “I really should’ve rang the doorbell.”

  Bronagh chuckled. “Sorry about that.”

  I looked at her and grinned. “Yeah, you look real sorry.”

  She looked completely relaxed and satisfied with her hair a mess. She swatted my way for grinning at her then she fixed her hair, tying it up into a bun on the top of her head. I sat at the table, making a big deal of not sitting near the spot she was recently bent over, and it cracked her up.

  “You look unreal,” Bronagh commented, her eyes roaming over my outfit. “You pull that suit off perfectly.”

  I smiled. “Thanks, where’s Georgie?”

  “With Alec and Keela. They have ’er on and off most of the day. Keela is feelin’ very maternal lately and wants to take the kids a lot. Alec is chill about it ’cause he says they need the practice for when their baby is born.”

  “That’s cute.”

  Bronagh nodded in agreement.

  “How was the meetin’?”

  “Brilliant,” I chirped. “I’m really pleased with Morgan and so excited to start workin’ with ’im.”

  Bronagh raised a brow. “Is he good lookin’?”

  “Why?”

  “Just askin’.”

  “Well, yeah, he is.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Twenty-one.”

  “Where is he from?”

  “Finglas but moved to Tallaght when he was a kid.”

  “Does he have a bird?”

  I laughed.

  “I didn’t ask ’im that, nosy hole, but yeah, he does. He brought it up in conversation.”

  Bronagh’s lips twitched. “Okay, on to better conversation.”

  “’Ere we go.”

  Bronagh made us tea as she said, “Tell me everythin’ and leave nothin’ out.”

  “Bronagh, nothin’—”

  “Don’t even,” she cut me off then lowered her voice. “You said Damien kissed you y
esterday.”

  I flushed at the memory.

  “He did.”

  “What was it like?”

  I thought about that for a minute, and then I sighed. “Toe-curlin’.”

  Bronagh squealed. “Those are the best types of kisses.”

  “It was so unexpected. I didn’t realise what was happenin’, then all of a sudden, his lips and hands were on me, and I was kissin’ ’im like a woman starved.”

  “That’s so hot.”

  I licked my lips. “If he hadn’t broken the kiss, I wouldn’t have stopped.”

  “Holy shite.”

  She came over to the table, carrying our cups of tea. I played with the handle of mine when she placed it in front of me, before sitting across from me. I couldn’t look at her while we talked about this because I was too embarrassed. Usually, our conversations about sex or kissing were primarily when Bronagh spoke and I listened.

  “I lose all rational thought when he is close to me,” I admitted. “It’s like me mind just forgets the drama between us.”

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  I grunted. “Even more confused.”

  “You like ’im.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes,” I admitted on a whisper. “But that doesn’t mean anythin’ because I can’t let go of the past.”

  Bronagh said nothing.

  “It gets worse,” I said.

  “How?”

  “He said ... he said he’d wait for me to decide whether I wanna be with ’im.”

  “Oh, Lana.”

  I felt my eyes well up.

  “I know,” I said, rubbing my eyes to stop any silly tears from falling. “I want to believe ’im, and I want to believe things would be different than when we were kids, but I’m just too scared. And I know you all probably think it’s high time I get over it, and I agree, but it’s like me heart just ... can’t.”

  I looked up at my friend when she reached over, covered my hands with hers, and gave them a squeeze. My eyes stung, and when a few droplets splashed onto my cheeks, I quickly wiped them away. I willed no more to fall because I knew if either of the twins saw that I was crying, I wouldn’t be able to leave the house without telling them why.

  “I think you should try,” Bronagh said softly.

  “Try what?” I snivelled.

  “I think you should try to see what happens between you and Damien.”