Last Summer(8)

“Witnesses report him running multiple stop signs.” Damien tucks an errant cluster of hair behind Ella’s ear and cradles her jaw. He looks at her, finally meeting her eyes for the first time. “It wasn’t your fault, El.”

She nods but finds it hard to believe him. Not because she doesn’t trust he’s telling her the truth. More because she feels guilty. She’s the one who got into the car and drove through the intersection. Why hadn’t she seen that truck coming?

“The police will want a statement from me.”

“They already took it.”

“I guess that’s a good thing, since I forgot what happened.” She isn’t trying to be funny, but the corner of Damien’s mouth lifts. She answers with a weak smile.

Damien retreats, putting space between them. He blinks a few times, then looks toward the window. He presses his fingers into the corners of his eyes.

“What is it?” Ella asks.

“I was just thinking about when the hospital called that night. I got there as fast as I could, but you were already in surgery. Placental abruption, that’s what the doctor told me. You were bleeding and they couldn’t detect Simon’s heartbeat. By the time they let me see you—” He stops abruptly and looks around, unfocused. There’s a tic in his jaw. “I’m going to shower. You should rest. Davie will be here in a few hours. She’s bringing dinner.”

And with that, he leaves. It feels like a dismissal, something she’d never expect from him.

The husband who brought her home from the hospital is not acting like the one she knew last week. Or even the man she met and tumbled into love with during their first night together.

Then again, with so many holes in her head, she isn’t the same woman either.





CHAPTER 4

Four Years Ago

Ella met Damien Russell on a cool February evening in Las Vegas. She’d recognized him immediately when he walked up to Lobby Bar at the ARIA Resort & Casino, where she and her best friend from college, Davie Mayer, were spending a long-overdue girls’ weekend.

There was a magnetic vibe about Damien that summoned attention. She wasn’t the only woman captivated by his striking good looks. Heads turned. Eyes trailed him to the bar. Tall and athletic with dark-walnut hair and stormy eyes, Damien was apotheotic. Quite simply, he wasn’t the type of man Ella would let sleep on her couch. He belonged in her bed, assuming she got the chance to have him there.

Davie, golden-blonde hair shimmering as she turned to see what caught Ella’s attention, groaned suggestively. “Wow. Who’s that?”

“Damien Russell. He’s the CEO and founder of Phantom Defense Networks, a private cybersecurity firm out of San Francisco.”

“Oooh. He’s hot, and he’s local.”

“I read an article in Forbes last year that he’s some sort of master business strategist. His intellect is off the charts.”

“Hot and smart? I call bullshit. Men like him don’t exist, unless they’re already married. Is he?”

Ella shook her head. “Divorced, I think. But listen to this. He used to work for his dad, Clyde Russell. Have you heard of him? He owns CyberSeal.”

“Didn’t they recently go public? I think I read something about that in the Chronicle.”

“Right. Damien was on track to take over the company after his father retired, but he suddenly up and quit five years ago.”

Davie plucked an olive from her martini. “Why?”

“No one knows exactly. But he immediately launched his own cybersecurity company. It’s speculated that he’d been working on plans while still working for his dad and that he intentionally positioned his firm as a direct competitor.”

“Obviously Clyde Russell never retired. Took his company public instead,” Davie finished for her, chewing on the olive. “Talk about family drama.”

“Seriously.”

Damien had graced plenty of magazine covers, his face splashed across the internet since CyberSeal went public, much to Clyde’s consternation, Ella was sure. She could visualize him poring over a pile of magazines with his son’s image, media coverage that should have been reserved for his company.

But where’s the drama in that? Drama sold, and so did Damien’s face. Plus, Damien had been silent, which only made the media more frenzied for answers. What is Damien’s opinion of his father taking the company public? Does he plan to do the same with PDN?

Not a single reporter had yet been able to get his real story. What a coup it would be for Luxe Avenue if she did.

What she wouldn’t give to have one hour alone with him. Tonight.

She and Davie watched Damien settle on to a recently vacated barstool and order a drink.

“I’m going to introduce myself,” Ella announced, setting down her unfinished gin and tonic.

Davie smirked. “As yourself or as a journalist?”

“If I could get his story . . . his real story . . .”

“You’re serious. Now?”

Ella bit into her lower lip and nodded. “Do you mind?”

Davie waved her hand, brushing aside Ella’s question. “Oh, my god, not at all. If I had the chance to talk to a guy like that . . .” She shook her head. “There are days when I envy you. The people you meet. Luxe Avenue will put your byline on the cover with that one.” Davie offhandedly wagged a finger in Damien’s direction.