Chapter 9

Amelia

The squeak of the doctor's chair brings me out of my thoughts. Dr. Bell smiles at me warmly and lets me put my shirt back down again as she wipes the gel off the wand.

"Everything's looking fine, Amelia," she says. "Your tests have come back normal. You're four months pregnant, perfectly healthy."

"Sorry," I whisper. "When I saw blood this morning, I got worried."

"I'm sure you would. But baby is looking healthy, you're looking healthy… everything's okay. Any heavier spotting and you should book an appointment right away. Any bad pains, any dizziness, don't put it off, okay?"

"I won't."

"And I would definitely suggest you rest more. If you're on your feet too much, it could cause pre-eclampsia." She gives me a comforting smile. "I wouldn't say you're high-risk, but when it gets further along in your pregnancy, just as you didn't know you were pregnant for so long, I'll want you to start thinking about an extended maternity leave. We want to avoid forced bed rest, okay?"

I give her a stiff smile. There's no way I can afford to take even the small amount of leave MVM offers. No one will let me hear the end of it, and Damian will win well and truly.

I think about the last time with Damian at his house as Edgar drives me back towards the office. I'd had Robyn tell everyone I was in a meeting offsite, but I'm sure it won't be long before I can't keep it a secret.

Damian will know soon. I'm already struggling to fit in some of my clothes. Damian had explored every inch of my skin in his luxurious bed, his movements slow and gentle, as if he was loving me. And I'd let him.

I've already decided I'll stop things with him long before he finds out about the baby. I'll have no choice.

I can't have Jackson Garrett's baby while dating Damian Garrett. I can't even be dating Damian Garrett. Eleanor's going to have a heart attack if she finds out. She'll say I've been lured in by the devil. To be fair, I'm not sure I haven't.

When I arrive at the office, Damian is sitting in my desk chair casually, his eyes shut and his hands resting on his stomach. Such a nice stomach. Nice hands. God, those fingers. They can do things Jackson never even attempted. My sex life with Jackson hadn't been lacking. It had been dependent on his moods, but it had occurred often enough. More than average. He was always focused on making sure I orgasmed first, then he would follow. It was missionary usually, or the occasional cowgirl, and always in bed with the lights off before going to sleep. But that hadn't been bad. It was nice to be so dependable.

But the fire that has consumed me at Damian's attention is enough to throw dependable out the window. I don't know if it's Damian or the pregnancy hormones, but I want more and more and more until I'm burning from the inside out. I lie awake at night aching for his touch. I have dreams that I've never had about Jackson.

Something always starts simmering away inside me the second I see Damian, and it starts now as Damian blinks his eyes open. He jumps a mile when he sees me standing there and nearly falls off the chair.

"Christ," he breathes, putting a hand on his heart. "I'd like to buck the family trend of dying prematurely, thanks."

"Then get out of my chair," I growl.

"You weren't using it!" He gets up and moves over to the sofa, dropping onto it lazily. He lies down again and kicks his feet up against the armrest, closing his eyes. "Wake me in twenty minutes."

"Get out of my office, Damian. You have a house to nap in with a very expensive bed and sofa, as you like to claim." I sit in my chair and try to get my head into work mode.

"Nah," he hums. "You have a meeting with the tribal chief, and I'd like to be here for it." He cracks an eye open. "As someone with fifty percent ownership of the company."

I'd been afraid of that. "You actually only have forty-five percent. Your other five percent is split between stakeholders. I own fifty percent."

Damian doesn't open his eyes. "As someone with forty-five percent ownership and five percent fuck you, I'm staying for this meeting."

"My hero," I mutter. I glance over at him as he rests. "Why are you tired anyway? What party was it this time?"

"No party," he mumbles. "I'm just old."

"You know, Alicia Grant is saying you gave her chlamydia. Anything I should know?"

"Mm." He rolls onto his side but doesn't open his eyes. "It's revenge. I slept with her mother. Well… she says I did." He relaxes further into my sofa. "You shouldn't read tabloids unless you want to get mad at me for something I've never done. But, my Mila, you can always get mad at me for something I have done, so don't waste your time with tabloids."

I lean back in my chair. "Is that what happened with Rachel?"

"Something like that. Also, if I had an STI, I would tell you to your face, sweetheart. Think better of me than that, at least." He rolls away from me, and I know the conversation is done.

I twist my chair to look out the window of the office and try to ignore the unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Damian?" I murmur. "Will you come with me to my house?"

"Of course, doll." His answer is immediate. "As I said before, whenever you want."

I'm interrupted from responding by Robyn knocking on the door.

"Hotah Enapay is here to see you, ma'am."

Damian sits up and stretches out his shoulders before studying me. "Ready?"

"Are you going to move from that spot?"

"No, ma'am." He smirks as he says it.

I turn to look at Robyn and nod. "Send him in." I shoot Damian a warning look and stand up as Robyn disappears.

She's back with a warm smile, gesturing the chief in, and I'm suddenly struck with the realization that I absolutely have to stop the hotel. Hotah shakes my hand firmly and gives a polite smile. "Mrs. Garrett."

"Mr. Enapay. I'm glad you could make it on short notice." I gesture to Damian. "This is my associate, Damian Blake."

Damian's eyes twinkle in amusement, and he stands up to shake Hotah's hand. Hotah's attention is immediately locked on Damian. Instead of sitting opposite me at my desk, he moves to sit on the chair closest to Damian.

"Coffee? Tea? Water?" Damian says smoothly, standing up and heading to the door. "I'll leave you to chat to Mrs. Garrett, and I'll be right back."

"Uh… no, thank you. I'm okay."

Damian glances at me. "I'll go get you a cup of coffee."

I nearly dry heave in my mouth.

Damian's eyes flash with worry for half a second before smiling. "I'll make that water."

"Thanks," I mumble. I gesture to Hotah to sit across from me instead. "Mr. Enapay."

He watches Damian walk out of the office before studying me in confusion. "Apologies, Mrs. Garrett. I assumed your husband was leading this meeting."

"That's not my husband," I say firmly. "I am the one in charge. And, just like the bodies that were found underneath the site of my hotel, my husband is dead. I understand the pain and historical grief that comes with reburying someone that has much value to a particular community or individual, but I'm also aware that no one knew it was a burial site until one member of the—"

He holds up his hands. "Look, Mrs. Garrett, I understand what you're trying to do. You want the hotel. You want the land. You want the money. But if there were members of your ancestors buried in unmarked sites for generations, only to be rediscovered by an excavator, how would you feel? I imagine you know exactly where they are buried. Where your husband is buried. I'm sorry for your loss, by the way."

I wring my hands tightly on my desk and gather myself. "The reservation starts four miles to the north. How much would it cost to have them reburied on the reservation? Full ceremony."

Hotah doesn't look impressed. "Are you asking how much it's going to cost to rid land that was once ours of everything that makes us? You want to diminish our presence in this country that was ours to a small dot on a map so that you can build a resort?"

Damian comes back into the room and places an electrolyte drink next to me, which must have come from Robyn. I can barely meet his gaze, but it's appreciated.

I clear my throat as Damian sits in his original position on the sofa. "We have ownership of the land. We bought it eight years ago."

Now that Damian's back, Hotah has lost all interest in getting through to me. He twists on his seat to talk to Damian. "Are you a part of this too?"

"Co-president of the company, yes."

"So you agree with the plan to rebury the remains of our ancestors on the reservation?"

Damian leans back and crosses his leg over his knee casually. "This earth is covered with human remains. We build over cemeteries, churches, forests… why should this be different? We've offered to relocate the bones and pay for a full ceremony. Haven't we?" He glances at me and I hope my responding look agrees with him.

"No one is going to stay at a hotel that has this much bad press to start with."

The chief isn't even pretending to talk to me. I lift my chin and force a smile. "That's our problem. All you need to do is organize the excavation and reburial."

Hotah leans back in his chair and barely glances at me before looking at Damian. Damian holds his hands up and leans back in his chair. "This isn't mine."

"It should be," Hotah growls. "I think you'll have more sense than this li—"

"Watch it," Damian says sharply. "We've given you our offer. I suggest you think about it and come back to Mrs. Garrett with a result. A good one. We'll work out the next steps when you return."

Damian stands up, indicating the meeting is over. Hotah stares at him for a moment, grunting as he stands up. "Fine." He buttons his jacket and gives me a bland smile. "I'll take MVM to court the second anything happens with that land until we both have contracts about what is to be done."

"Suit yourself," Damian says calmly. "You have our word."

The second the door shuts behind Hotah, Damian turns to me, his hands raised.

"I know. I know. I came to your rescue ag—"

"Thank you," I say softly.

Damian blinks at me slowly. "What?"

"I said thank you. He wasn't going to listen to a word that came out of my mouth anyway." I slump back in my chair and spin it so that I'm looking out the window. Damian's footsteps sound on the carpet, and he slowly moves to lean against my desk, looking out the window with me.

"You know, I don't think anyone really gave a fuck what Victor said either."

I clear my throat and spin back to my computer. "Well, things are going to change around here," I say firmly. "Trust me on that."