Chapter Six: A Dangerous Misstep

   Ava adjusted the strap of her dress as she stepped into the upscale restaurant alongside Damien. The dimly lit space was buzzing with conversations and clinking glasses, a stark contrast to the suffocating tension that seemed to follow her and Damien wherever they went.

This was supposed to be a professional dinner—a meeting with an important client. Yet, Damien hadn’t given her much of a briefing, and she had no idea what to expect. She hated how he enjoyed keeping her in the dark, as if testing how well she could adapt to his unpredictable whims.

The maître d' greeted them with a polite nod and escorted them to a private room at the back of the restaurant. The exclusivity of it all only heightened Ava’s nerves. She was still reeling from the heated moments they’d shared earlier in the day, and now here they were, forced into close quarters yet again.

The client, a middle-aged man named Mr. Hayward, was already seated at the table. He stood as they entered, extending a hand to Damien before his gaze shifted to Ava. His eyes lingered a little too long, and the way his lips curved into a smirk made Ava’s skin crawl. She suppressed a grimace and forced a polite smile.

“And who might this lovely lady be?” Mr. Hayward asked, his voice dripping with condescension.

“This is Ava,” Damien said smoothly, placing a hand on her back. The touch was brief, but it sent a jolt through her. “My assistant. She’s been instrumental in preparing for this project.”

Ava was surprised by the compliment, though the possessive tone in his voice didn’t escape her. She wasn’t sure if he was genuinely praising her or staking some sort of claim in front of Mr. Hayward.

“Instrumental, you say?” Hayward’s smirk widened as he took his seat again. “Well, I look forward to seeing what she brings to the table.”

Ava sat down, forcing herself to focus on the conversation that followed. Hayward was a shrewd businessman, and while his ideas were solid, his mannerisms were slimy. He kept addressing her directly, but his tone was patronizing, and his gaze made her feel like an object rather than a professional.

Damien, to her surprise, was unusually quiet. He let Hayward talk, only interjecting when necessary, but Ava noticed the way his jaw tightened every time Hayward’s attention turned to her.

By the time the main course was served, Ava was on edge. She had been biting her tongue for the sake of professionalism, but Hayward’s constant insinuations were wearing her patience thin. She caught Damien’s eye across the table, silently pleading for him to intervene, but he merely raised an eyebrow as if to say, Handle it.

Finally, Hayward leaned back in his chair, swirling the wine in his glass as he looked at Ava with a smug grin. “So, Ava,” he said, his tone dripping with false charm, “how does a young woman like you manage to work under someone as... demanding as Mr. Cross?”

The implication in his words made her bristle. She opened her mouth to respond, but Damien beat her to it.

“She manages just fine,” he said sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. His expression was unreadable, but his tone left no room for argument. “Ava is more capable than most people I’ve worked with.”

Ava blinked, caught off guard by the sudden defense. Hayward chuckled, clearly unbothered, but the tension at the table was palpable.

“Well,” Hayward said, raising his glass in a mock toast, “to capable assistants, then.”

Ava clenched her fists under the table, her nails digging into her palms. She couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, she blurted out, “And to respectful businessmen who know how to keep their eyes on the project instead of their assistant.”

The room went silent. Hayward’s smirk froze, and Damien’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing into a sharp glare. Ava realized her mistake immediately, but it was too late to take the words back.

Hayward’s expression darkened, and he set his glass down with a loud clink. “Well,” he said coldly, “I can see that your assistant has a bit of a temper, Mr. Cross. Perhaps she needs to learn when to hold her tongue.”

Damien’s gaze flicked to Ava, and she could see the warning in his eyes. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding. She had just jeopardized the entire deal.

“My apologies, Mr. Hayward,” Damien said smoothly, his voice dangerously calm. “Ava is passionate about her work, but I assure you, her outburst won’t happen again.”

Ava’s face burned with embarrassment, but she couldn’t bring herself to look at Damien. She had crossed a line, and she knew it.

The rest of the dinner was painfully awkward. Hayward’s mood had soured, and Damien’s usual charm seemed strained. Ava barely touched her food, too consumed by the sinking feeling in her stomach. When the meeting finally ended, she was the first to stand, eager to escape the suffocating atmosphere.

As soon as they stepped outside, Damien rounded on her. His expression was a storm of frustration and disappointment, and Ava braced herself for the inevitable scolding.

“What the hell was that?” he demanded, his voice low but furious. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”

“I..” Ava started, but he cut her off.

“No,” he said sharply, holding up a hand. “Don’t speak. You’ve done enough damage for one night.”

Ava’s chest tightened, and she bit her lip to keep herself from snapping back. She knew she had messed up, but the way he was speaking to her made her feel like a child being reprimanded by a parent.

“I was just standing up for myself,” she said quietly, unable to keep the hurt out of her voice. “He was being inappropriate.”

“And you think lashing out like that was the solution?” Damien shot back. “This isn’t about your pride, Ava. It’s about the company. About the deal. You let your emotions get the better of you, and now we could lose everything.”

His words stung more than she expected, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. She hated how he always managed to make her feel small, even when she was trying to do the right thing.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t mean to ruin anything.”

Damien sighed, running a hand through his hair. For the first time that evening, he looked tired. “We’ll fix it,” he said, his tone softer now. “But this can’t happen again, Ava. You need to learn how to control yourself.”

She nodded, her throat tight with unshed tears. She wanted to defend herself, to explain that she had only been trying to stand up for her dignity, but she knew it wouldn’t matter. Damien was right—she had let her emotions take over, and it had cost them.

As they got into the car, the silence between them was heavy. Ava stared out the window, replaying the events of the evening in her mind and wondering how she could ever make it right.

And for the first time, she found herself questioning whether she could really survive working under Damien Cross.

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To be continued

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