*Isabella's POV*
"You were crystal clear that you don't like my presence, Isabella, so go back to your friend," he said coldly.
"But... I still owe you lunch," I responded nervously.
He took a deep breath and sighed. "Do as you please. My car is right outside," he said and walked away.
I mustered all the courage I had and followed him to his car—a black Lamborghini—took a seat in the passenger side, and he started the car and sped off.
I sat there silently, nervously fiddling with my skirt as I watched him drive. "Nice... car," I said, trying to break the silence.
"Thanks," he simply replied. I got so flustered that I asked, "Are you always driving it?"
"Yeah, like a normal person," he replied. "Why? Does my lazy, stuck-up brother still not drive?" he said, breaking into laughter.
"He doesn't," I replied, and the car became silent again.
"Where are we going?"
"To an Italian place. I googled it; 5 stars. I hope it's worth it," he replied.
"Is it expensive?" I asked.
"Well, yeah," he replied.
"But I—" I nervously bit the inside of my cheek, trying to remember what my credit card limit is.
"Wait! You'd think—" he paused and burst into laughter.
"What's so funny, Mr. Lancaster?" I spat out, annoyed.
"That you actually thought I'd let you pay for lunch," he replied.
"But you said I owed you lunch?"
"As in, accompanying me to lunch. I could never let a lady pay. Don't get me wrong, I was just raised that way," he retorted.
We got to the restaurant and sat down as he grabbed the menu. "This place looks amazing," I said, eyeing the restaurant. "Hope I can eat something decent. Like a New York pizza," he said while looking at the menu.
"A New York pizza here? And isn't pizza originally from Italy?" I asked, making him roll his eyes.
"But on this continent, it's from New York," he countered.
"But that's a commoner's dish. Are you too precious for a plain, old, boring pizza?" I retaliated.
"I think you're confusing me for someone else. You said it yourself: I am not my brother," he said and went back to reading the menu.
"Pizza is still overrated," I said, picking up my menu.
"What will you be having?" Jacob asked.
"Seafood pasta," I replied excitedly.
"Good choice. And a bottle of the finest wine, I'd say white," he said.
"But I can't, Jacob. We still have to get back to work afterward," I countered.
"Nonsense. Italian food without wine is just an abomination. We'll just have a glass, of course," he retorted confidently.
"Deal," I replied, and we both burst into a fit of laughter. We called for a waiter, ordered, and twenty minutes later, we were eating.
I couldn't comprehend how easy-going things were with him. A hot, cocky billionaire, owner of a worldwide corporation. He was like a breath of fresh air, a calming presence I didn't know I needed in my life until he appeared. Once he dropped the ladies' man attitude, he was cheerful and lively, someone you just couldn't get enough of.
Once we were done, with tears in my eyes from so much laughing, we strolled to his car. Leading me to the car, he placed his hand on my back, making me jump a little.
"NO!" I exclaimed. "No touching, Jacob, please. If we're going to continue to work and act civil, there can be no touching," I added.
Jacob raised his hands, exaggerating the surrender gesture. "Okay, I promise. No touching," he said and crossed his fingers over his heart. If I'm being honest, his hand on my back did things to my body. But once we hopped into the car and he started the engine, the trembling in my knees stopped and my breath steadied a little.
"Do you like it fast, Isabella?" Jacob suddenly said, breaking me away from my thoughts. Only when he flashed me his smirk did I realize what he meant.
"Jacob!" I shrieked in excitement. The thrill of being in his speeding car took over my body and senses. And although I let myself go at that moment, Damien was still there, in the back of my mind...
When we got back to the office, "I am so full I feel like my stomach is about to burst," Jacob said, and we both burst into laughter. I laughed not only because of his silly joke but because I looked at the guy. His muscles were showing underneath his expensive shirt, pure muscle and toned abs. This man did no justice to the word sexy.
My daydream was interrupted by someone clearing their throat. 'Sh**,' I thought as I turned around to see my boss standing in my office, tapping his foot on the floor, looking agitated. "Ms. Williams," he said coldly. "My office. Now," he added and started to walk away.
"Brother, wait! In her defense, I was the one who—" Jacob was talking fast, throwing excuses, but Damien's authoritative voice stopped him in an instant.
"I'm sorry, are you Ms. Williams?" he countered angrily. He didn't let it show in his tone, but one look at his face told me he was livid. He left for his office, meaning I was expected to follow. 'I'm in deep sh** now,' I thought to myself as I mentally prepared myself to go to his office.
"You're not going in there alone," Jacob said.
"I'll be okay," I said reassuringly, but truth be told, I was trying to convince myself. Jacob suddenly held my hand as if I were about to go to war. "Jacob, let go. Don't overreact; you're making this harder than it should be. I know the man. He's been my boss for two years now. I got this," I said, pulling away and confidently walking into Damien's office. All the confidence left when I closed the door.
I've never been a coward before, but right now, seeing my boss fuming and throwing me these death stares, my stomach twisted into knots. "Isabella," he said, expecting acknowledgement.
"Sir," I replied, and there I saw it in his eyes: a hint of pain, sadness, as if it would have made him happy if I had said 'Damien' instead. But in the blink of an eye, it was gone, making me wonder if it was ever there at all. He left his desk and walked straight up to me.
The anticipation was killing me. I've seen Mr. Lancaster angry before, but not with me.
"Is my brother bothering you?" he asked, confusing the hell out of me. It took me three seconds to process the question.
"I know how much of a pain in the a** he can be, but please don't let him get to you. Don't feel like you owe him something because he is your superior," he continued, sounding defeated rather than angry.
"You only report to me. Do you understand, Isabella?" Damien Lancaster, acting like an alpha male, was enough to make my knees feel weak. Every time I heard that guttural voice of his, reassuring me of his dominance, I wanted to get on my knees and please him.
"I understand, sir. I am at your service and your service alone," I replied. 'Damn, why does it sound so weird?' I thought.
"Good."