DIANE

A loud ringing snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Excuse me, I have to take this," Damon said, excusing himself as he left the room.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding while rocking against my heels with my arms folded across my chest.

Dad looked at me with a wide smile spread across his lips as he leaned against the edge of the desk.

"So Paris huh?" He leaned forward, his eyes twinkling. "Four years in the city of love and you come back single? What happened? Did you forget how to flirt, or were French men just not cutting it?"

"Dad!" I felt my face heat up.

"What? I'm just saying, I was expecting at least one heartbroken Frenchman following you home, dramatically declaring his love in broken English," he said with a little chuckle at the end.

I couldn't help the laughter that escaped my lips. I pulled out one of the chairs in front of the desk and sat down. "That's not how real life works, you know?"

"An old man can only dream," he said laughing.

I cleared my throat. "But seriously, Dad, about this whole assistant thing..."

"Why? You don't want to do it?" He raised his brow.

"No no... I mean yes. Yes, I do. I was just wondering if it was a good idea."

"Of course it is. That man built an empire before he was in his mid-twenties. He's in the best place to teach you all you know about running a company," he reassured, a wide smile on his lips.

But that was the least of my burdens. If it were a different person, I wouldn't have a problem working as their assistant for the time being. But when it came to Damon Pierce, this was all shades of wrong.

I nodded, not wanting to dwell on the matter any longer. I had to do what needed to be done and hopefully I'd be able to get through this unscathed.

Dad smiled at me again, clearly satisfied that I'd agreed. "You'll do fine sweetheart. Damon's tough but he's fair. You'll learn faster than you think."

"Yeah," I muttered, trying to sound convinced.

He checked his watch and sighed. "It's getting late. You should get some rest. The event planners will be here in the morning to get started on the decorations."

"Alright, Dad," I said with a little yawn. "Good night, Dad."

I stood up and hugged him before leaving his home office and shutting the door quietly.

The place was so dim that I had to squint my eyes to be able to see where I was going when...

Thud!

I collided headfirst with a hard surface, causing me to stumble backwards while holding my forehead.

"Shit," I murmured as the pain surged through me.

"Are you okay?" a deep voice resonated right in front of me.

Scratch that. That wasn't any wall, that was a hard chest. Damon Pierce's.

He held on to my arm as I stumbled, catching me just before I hit the ground. His hands were warm against my skin.

"Yes...I'm–I'm fine...," I managed to get out amidst the dizziness.

He didn't let go immediately. His grip was firm and his arm snaked around my waist to steady me, his fingers brushing against the bare skin at my back where my top had ridden up.

The touch sent a hot shiver right through me.

"You should be more careful," he said, his warm breath fanning my face.

My knees buckled at the sensation of him this close to me with his arms around me.

Just one touch from Damon Pierce had reminded me exactly why leaving New York hadn't been enough to forget him.

This was bad. So so bad.

I stepped back from his hold, trying to put some reasonable distance between us.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't see properly." My voice was barely above a whisper, still clearly affected by the effect his touch had on me.

" I-I should go. Good night, Uncle Damon," I rushed out and headed towards the staircase, trying to get away from him as fast as I possibly could.

"Diane." I didn't get too far when I heard him call out my name.

I halted in my steps, hearing the soft echo of his footsteps against the tiles as he approached me.

I slowly turned to face him, my mind doing a whole marathon.

He closed the distance between us. For a second, I thought he was going to say something else, but instead, he pulled his phone from his pocket and held it out to me.

"Put your number in," he said, his tone was calm and casual. "For work," he added.

I hesitated for a second before taking it. The tips of my fingers brushed against his, just slightly, but it was enough to make my stomach flip.

God, why did he always have that effect on me?

I looked down, pretending to focus on the screen while typing in my number. My hands felt a little shaky. I hit save and handed the phone back, careful not to meet his eyes.

He took the phone and tucked it away into his suit jacket.

"Good night, Diane," he said, his voice quiet but deep.

"Good night," I murmured, forcing a small smile before turning toward the stairs.

I could feel his gaze on me as I walked away. The moment I got to my room, I shut the door and sat down on my bed, trying to slow down my breathing.

After a couple of minutes, I heard the low hum of his car before he drove away.

If I was going to survive working with him then I desperately needed to get my emotions in check.

DIANE

I woke up gasping his name.

Not again.

This time the dream had been different. We were not in a room but rather, an office. His office. With the doors locked and the blinds drawn.

He had me on his desk, his hands sliding up my thighs, pushing the fabric of my dress higher while I moaned shamelessly beneath him, enjoying the things he did to me.

"Oh God," I groaned and threw off the covers, coming to reality.

The dreams were always so intense and they felt so real every time.

A part of me never wanted them to fade, but another part, the more rational part, knew that no matter how real the dreams felt, it was never meant to happen.

I ignored the slight ache in my chest and headed into the bathroom to freshen up. By the time I was done, I got dressed in some casual fits and went downstairs.

The workers were already here, setting up the decorations and putting things in order.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee hit my nose, and at that moment, my stomach decided to growl, and loudly, if I may add.

"Thank goodness, there you are, kiddo," Dad called from the living room where he was with two other ladies dressed in their caterer uniforms. He motioned me over and with a little smile, I approached him.

"Hi, Dad," I greeted, giving him a kiss on both cheeks while he sat.

"Ooh," he exclaimed, surprised. "That's very French of you," he joked.

Trust Dad to make everything a joke.

I smiled and sat down beside him. Two caterers stood nearby, each holding sample plates.

"Alright, Di, I need your expert opinion." Dad gestured to the women. "They're trying to kill me with choices."

"We just need a final decision on dessert, Mr. Ashford," one of them said patiently.

"Final decision," Dad repeated. "As if choosing between two perfect desserts isn't the hardest decision a man can make."

I laughed. "Dad, it's cake."

"It's not just cake, kiddo. It's my fiftieth birthday cake." He pointed to the first plate. "Classic chocolate ganache with raspberry filling."

The caterer held it out. It looked incredible.

"And option two?" I asked.

"Lemon lavender with vanilla cream."

I studied both plates for a second longer. "Have you tasted them?"

"Three times each. Still can't decide. You're the tiebreaker."

I looked at both again. The chocolate was safe, classic. The lemon lavender was different but elegant.

"Lemon lavender," I said finally.

"Really? Why?"

"Because you're not a 'play it safe' kind of person." I met his eyes. "And because Mom always said lavender was sophisticated."

Something flickered across his face then a smile graced his lips.

He turned to the caterers. "Lemon lavender it is. The lady has spoken."

Once they left, Dad put his arm around my shoulders.

"Thank you, kiddo."

"For helping you choose a cake?" I laughed.

"Yes. But not just that. For being here," I accepted his warm embrace knowing I was the luckiest to have him as my dad.

~~

The next few days passed by in a blur. The birthday preparations continued in earnest, and soon the long-awaited day was finally here.

I sat at my vanity doing my makeup the best I could. I was never a make up person but I knew a few things from watching make up tutorials.

I went for a minimal look, just some mascara to add weight to my already long lashes, and then I used eyeliners and finished with some nude lipstick.

I didn't want my hair to be of any discomfort to me tonight so I put it into a sleek bun on top of my head, letting my bangs fall loosely across my face.

Now it was time for the hard part. It was almost six in the evening and I was yet to fully decide on what to wear. Eight different dresses lay on my bed but I couldn't make a choice.

It was either too formal, or too casual, or just not enough.

Just when I was still going back and forth between what to wear, a knock sounded at my door. A second later, the door creaked open and my dad stood at the entrance fully dressed in a blue Armani suit.

"Dad...wow...you look...," I was at a loss for words.

"Old?" He cocked his brow at me.

"No. Not at all. You look amazing. Really good. I'm sure you really had all the girls chasing after you in your prime huh?" He stepped in and I helped him fix his tie but the bag in his hand didn't go unnoticed.

"I sure did," he chuckled. "But there was only ever one girl for me, though. Your mother." He touched my cheeks gently. "And she gave me you. So I'd say I did pretty well."

My throat tightened. "Dad..." my voice trembled as I tried to speak.

"No. None of that. No crying tonight, it's a party," he cleared his throat and I knew he was holding his back.

I nodded and my gaze went back to what he was holding.

"Here," he said, handing me the bag. "I knew you'd have a hard time selecting a dress so I picked one out for you."

"Oh dad," I threw myself at him, not being able to contain my excitement. "You're the best."

"You should get dressed. The guests will be arriving shortly," he said after I pulled away.

I nodded and he pecked my forehead before leaving the room.

I opened the bag only to be graced with a royal blue floor length and backless dress with a high slit by the right thigh.

Oh my God.

Heat crept up to my cheeks at the sight of the dress. This was it. Exactly what I needed.

I stripped out of my robe and put on the dress, loving the way it hugged my body in the right places and accentuated my curves.

This dress screamed temptation and for a second, I imagined what Damon's reaction would be like if he saw me in this dress.

I finished up with minimal jewelry because this dress was giving everything it should and more.

By the time I was done and stepped out from my room, soft piano music was playing downstairs.

I held on to the dress to avoid slipping as I took the stairs down.

Guests chattered and laughed with each other downstairs. I felt a pair of eyes on me and when I turned, I saw Damon standing with my dad and some other men and a lady on his arm. Her back was turned to me so I couldn't get a glimpse of her face.

His eyes raised to meet mine and for a second, I saw something flash in them before they darkened. He kept staring at me as I took the stairs down.

With shaky legs, I maintained my balance, not wanting to trip and disgrace myself in front of him nor the entire guests in this room.

I finally got to the last stair and let out a breath of relief before my dad finally saw me.

I smiled and walked over to them, muttering a small greeting to the men.

Damon nodded and shifted uncomfortably.

"This is my daughter, Diane," my dad introduced me to the men.

I greeted once more and some shook my hand while one lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it, giving me a sly smile. I felt irritation crawl up my skin at his act but I did my best to mask my emotions.

"Diane, these are Mr. Benson, Marcus and Jonathan," Dad introduced and I gave a little wave.

"And of course Damon's daughter, Kara," Dad added.

"What?" The word came flying out of my mouth before I could stop it.