Don't Lie (To Me)

Chapter 7

TW: Swearing, angina (I tried to write it the best I could, sorry if I portrayed it wrong)

Damien got to the building earlier than usual, anxiety already rising in his chest as he walked to his office. He pulled out his phone and sighed, realizing he still didn't have Remy's number. Great. He hadn't asked for it to try to avoid doing something stupid that he'd later regret... like he had wanted to do a few times in the past two weeks. He walked in, leaving the door open and went to his chair, starting his laptop and preparing all the papers he needed.

He checked the time again, for the fifth time since he'd left home. 7:57 am. Thirty-three minutes until the meeting. The dreaded meeting was finally here. He hoped Remy would make it on time to help him out. He hadn't been late since his first day, but he was still worried about that. Every single detail seemed too much to handle at that point.

He looked up as he heard the elevator door open. 7:59 am. Perfect timing.

Remy walked straight to Damien's office, making the older male smile lightly before looking away to hide the light blush he felt dusting his cheeks. Remy wore a white button-up and his usual black leather jacket along with a pair of jeans and black combat boots. His sunglasses were on his head, letting his beautiful grey eyes show. His brown hair was combed to the side and he had covered his freckle with some makeup as he sometimes did.

He smiled. "Mr. Sanders," he said. "Ready for the meeting?" he asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. Damien glanced at him without saying anything. "You seem nervous," he pointed out. "Don't worry, you'll do great," he reassured, getting a small, sheepish smile from Damien, who was focused on his laptop again. "How bad can it be?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Damien looked up at him. "You don't want to know..." he sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "Can you bring me the document I gave you yesterday? I can't find the original," he said. Remy smiled and gave him a salute before leaving for his own office.

The phone on Damien's table rang and he bit his lip before answering. "He's here," Patton said on the other side of the line. "Should I tell him to go or...?"

"Yes. Tell him to come..." he trailed off before hanging up. He frowned. Right on- actually, early. Always early. "Mr. Starlight," he called. "I am going to need your help." He checked the papers one more time and looked up as Remy showed up at the door with the document Damien had asked for. "Take a seat beside me." Remy did as told and took a chair, placing it beside Damien's just as the elevator doors opened. "Follow my lead and don't let him drag you into anything," he warned.

Remy nodded and sat down, looking up at Damien as he stood up.

A man in his mid-forties walked inside the office. He was... intimidating, to say the least. He had black hair and menacing dark brown eyes, nearly black. Remy noticed how Damien seemed to tense up slightly when he shook the man's hand. He wore a suit. His build was that of an athletic man, no more, no less. He was taller than Damien, but not much. Maybe a couple of inches.

"Mr. Steele," Damien started. "Before we begin, would you like some coffee?" he asked. The man, Mr. Steele, shook his head. "Alright. Also, before you ask. I am not going to sell my business." The already threatening aura around Mr. Steele darkened even more as he sat down, glaring at Damien as he did the same.

"And him?" he asked, looking at Remy. "Do you need help to put up with the hard work, Mr. Sanders?" he asked in a mocking tone that made Remy's blood boil, but Damien remained cold and almost emotionless.

Damien glanced at Remy. "Oh? This is a secretary... I should've figured you wouldn't know what it is... only important people in relevant businesses have them," he said. "My apologies. I overestimated your business, Mr. Steele." The tiniest smirk formed on his lips as the man in front of him nearly bared his teeth. Mr. Steele pulled a checkbook out of his suit's inside pocket, writing a number. Damien watched him and scoffed before the man could show them the number. "Please. You can do so much better, Mr. Steele~" he said. "2000 is what I pay Mr. Starlight per week." He glanced at Remy for a second before looking at Mr. Steele again. "You'll have to think harder... that is... if you can," he taunted.