EMMA DAMIAN 3

--Emma--

I was furious.

It was meant to be a magical evening. Charity events like this were my dream - far more so than the bar mitzvahs and sweet sixteens that kept the bills paid. The best part was that I had prepared it specifically for my dearest friend and her wonderful spouse.

But he had to turn up after that.

"What in the world is he doing here?" I inquired as I stormed into the event space's rear hallways, Hannah keeping up with her typical step-step-step. "I had no idea he lived in Manila!" Last I heard, he was having some sort of surgery in Cebu."

Hannah took out her clipboard and scribbled something on it without saying anything.

"Can you tell me what you just wrote?" I inquired.

"Nothing," she stated flatly.

I gave her my typical annoyed expression, which I reserved for anyone who tried to deceive me with their bullsh*t, to be precise.

"Um," she murmured, a bashful tone in her voice. "I'm just trying to figure out which one I want to bid on," she says.

I cocked my head around to the auction table, then whipped back toward Hannah, my forehead furrowed in bewilderment. "Wait, you're not going to tell me which of those people you want to bid on?"

"Well, sort of. Would that be such a bad idea? Just have a look at them."

I spun around once again to take in the men's presence. They were all studs, and their unforms were almost absurdly attractive. Damian, of course, was the most attractive of the group. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue doctor's scrubs, which appeared to be a little too small. His jeans were so tight that I could nearly see the outline of his you-know-what because the fabric clung to his muscles.

"Would you choose one over the other?" she inquired, a mischievous grin on her lips.

"Um..." I was stumped by the question. After all, the hottest guy there was the one I'd sworn I'd never see again in my life.

"I'd pick the fireman," she said, her impatience to talk inadvertently saving me from embarrassment. "God, is there anything sexier than a fireman? Like, get a load of those arms. Imagine him carrying you out of a burning building with those bad boys, his chest all sweaty and..." She waved the clipboard in front of her face, fanning herself.

"Alright, easy over there."

I glanced over her shoulder, taking a few moments to watch some of the guests file in. That was the nice thing about charity events, other than the fact that I actually felt good about the work – the types who went to them were a hell of a lot more manageable than teenagers.

"Are you serious about bidding at the auction?" " I inquired, returning my gaze to her.

She grinned and shrugged. "I'm not sure. I mean, I doubt I'll be able to afford the big trip to Boracay or something, but I can't think of many worse things to spend a few hundred dollars on than a dinner and, oh, dessert." She smirked at me, aware of the auction's limitations but joking nonetheless. "It's also for a good cause."

I burst out laughing. "In the kitchen, there's an industrial-strength hose attachment. I'll have Chef Joseph out here to spray you off if you don't tone down your horniness."

"All right, all right, But, hey, a girl has to have a good time, right? You could even stand to go out on a date once in a while."

With a shake of my head, I said, "Please. Dating is the last thing on my mind. And work is enough for me." I knew the words weren't totally true as soon as I said them, but discussing my dating life on the most crucial night of my career so far was the last thing I wanted to do.

Hannah gave me a friendly shove and added, "Anyway. It's just for a good time. Nonetheless, I wouldn't blame you if you made a bid."

"Not going to happen," I stated emphatically. "Never in a million-"I glanced at the table in the middle of my statement, noting Damian wasn't there.

"Are you fooling me?" I muttered beneath my breath and shook my head.

"What?"

"We've got ten minutes before dinner starts and Dr. McDreamy's Missing In Action."

Hannah shifted her gaze to the table. "You're correct - he's a dreamy guy."

"He's a jerk, that's all he is."

Hannah shifted her gaze to me, a puzzled expression on her face. "Is he a jerk? How did you figure that out? "

The last thing I wanted to do at that moment was go over my entire history with Damian. I didn't want to lie, but I couldn't. "He was a classmate of mine in high school. He was a conceited jerk who believed he was superior than everyone."

"I can't really blame him for being smug when he looks like he does."

Before the auction started, I needed to find him and make sure he was in his seat. As the last few guests arrived, the serving team prepared to plate and serve the first meal. It wasn't the right time for one of our auction items to run away like a toy store toddler.

Before I could even begin looking for Damian, I came face to face with the man himself. He was behind the bar, and I got a good look at him from behind. His scrubs were so tight that the cloth clung to his round a$$ that I couldn't help but feel a rush of blood rush to my head...and other places.

Then he spun around, holding a glass of whiskey in one hand and a pair of champagne flutes in the other. He locked his gaze on me, a cunning smirk on his face indicating that he was up to something. It took all of my willpower not to look down and see how beautifully the fabric matched his front.

Hannah exclaimed, "Wow. Those scrubs don't offer a lot of room for imagination. That is not to say that I am complaining."

I wasn't in the mood for chit-chat, as much as I was relieved to discover he hadn't gone far. But he appeared to be thinking about something, and he was heading straight for me.

"I hope you're taking it easy," I murmured, my gaze falling on his whiskey. "The last thing we need is for you to get wasted and cause a scene by dancing around shirtless on a table."

"Are you sure about that?" he inquired, unfazed in the least by my remark. "I believe that will, ah, assist in the movement of merchandise."

I cautioned, "Don't get any strange notions. I'm running this thing like a well-oiled machine."

Hannah spoke forward and said, "Right. Emma doesn't like improv," she said calmly, but I could tell Damian's presence, tall and towering and attractive, was causing her some anxiety.

"I got you ladies some drinks," he continued, handing Hannah one glass and me the other.

"Oh my God," Hannah exclaimed as she excitedly took the glass. "You have no clue how badly I've wanted this." Thank you very much, Doctor..."

"Damian," he began, flashing her his signature winning smile, the kind that made his perfectly formed cheekbones dimple with little dimples. "A doctor isn't required."

Hannah remarked, "But it has such a wonderful ring to it. Doctor Damian," She laughed softly before a short snort, "Not to mention you truly know just what prescription this patient needs."

I'd known Hannah long enough to recognize a snort as the sound of her becoming agitated in the presence of a guy she felt was totally hot. I'd also known Damian long enough to realize that all of his charm and smiles were only the beginning of a route that would lead to a broken heart. And he'd left a lot of them behind.

That includes my own.

He smiled as he said, "Glad to hear it. And, as much as I hate to be impolite, would you mind if I spoke with your boss for a moment?" "

"Actually, I've got a million things to do right now," I pointed out, "and chatting to a man in a shrink-wrapped set of scrubs isn't one of them."

Damian looked down at his chest, still clutching my and his drinks. "I suppose they're a little snug around the pecs." I was under the impression that Carlos and I were the same size."

Hannah intervened, "Well, I'll leave you guys chat." "I'll be helping the stragglers locate their seats if you need me."

"No," I said as she walked away, raising my hand to her. "You're not-"

But she twirled and headed to the front doors, winking over her shoulder. I let out a sigh as I realized there was no way out of this talk.

Damian remarked, "She's sweet."

I warned him, pointing to his chest, not to get any thoughts in his head. "She's sweet - sweet enough that I don't want her to get drawn into Planet Damian's orbit."

"Planet Damian," he murmured, grinning, his eyes blazing. "I like the way that sounds."

"It fits – I'd describe your ego as planet-sized."

He pretended to be hurt with an exaggerated face. He pleaded, "Come on now. This is the first time we've seen each other in years, and you act like this? I've got to confess, I'm hurt."

I let out a sigh. Probably, I was being a little too severe. "I'm just a little worked up right now," I said, gesturing about us to indicate the situation.

He nodded and said, "I got it." "That's why, without taking up too much of your time, I wanted to chat to you about something."

I accepted the drink that he offered to me. Even though I still wanted to throw the champagne over his head, I was curious as to what had brought him over to me.

"Can you tell me what that is?"

His usual unflustered confidence disappeared for a moment, and he appeared genuinely concerned. But it was only for a split second. Whatever he desired, he was serious about it. "It's...kind of a sticky situation," he added after clearing his throat.

"Fortunately for you, I excel in sticky situations. It's part of the job."

"Then you're the one who can get me out of this bind."

"Are you in a jam? This is something I have to hear," I said, trying hard not to smile at his embarrassment.

"My...ex-wife has arrived."

Before narrowing, my eyes enlarged. "Marian? " I surveyed the crowd, catching a glimpse of her massive golden locks from afar. She wasn't on the guest list, so she had to be a plus-one, which irritated me.

"It's true, Marian. Despite the fact that she had remarried-"

"Remarried? " I snorted and asked. "What is this, number seven?"

He smiled. "Actually, she told me it's only number four," he explained. "In any case, they appear to be in the early stages of a divorce. And she's attempting to reintroduce her hooks into me."

"Excuse me, but what?" I noticed Carlos and Zea approaching the side stage, preparing to perform. I twirled my palm in a circle in the talk faster gesture as I looked at Damian once again.

"To cut a long tale short, she's interested in bidding on me."

"It appears to be a problem with you."

"Oh, this is clearly a me issue. However, I require your assistance."

"How can I assist?"

"Place a bid on me."

"What " I shrieked, my eyes rolling.

"Place a bid on me. I don't care how much money you need to spend; I'll pay for anything."

"You're joking, right? I'm sorry, but I can't just...bid on you."

"Why not?" Damian asked.

"Because I'm in charge of the event. I'm meant to be working in the background and not participating in the festivities. Do you realize how embarrassing it would be if I got into a bidding battle with a guest? "

"You'd appear to be invested in the cause, as though this isn't just a one-time event for you. So what if you do end up in a bidding war? For Carlos and Zea's organization, this would mean more money. Plus, you don't have to do anything other than raise your paddle and keep an eye on Marian to make sure she doesn't outbid you. Simple."

I was uncomfortable with this for a variety of reasons, the most important of which being that I didn't want to win a date with this man. "Damian, I'm not sure..."

"It's ideal." And I'll owe you a lot." He moved in and kissed my cheek, taking my response as assent. "Thank you in advance, Emmie," he added, referring to me by the nickname he'd given me when we were friends. He then turned and walked away, giving me one more smile as he did so.

As enraged as I was, as furious as I was that he'd put me in such a precarious position, there was something I couldn't ignore.

His kiss had fvcked me up like a maniac.