Chapter 18 Lunch with Raymond
Jasmine blinked at him, momentarily unsure whether to roll her eyes or smile.
“What’s not to love?” she asked, twirling slightly in her office chair, arms spread as if she were an airplane about to take flight.
Raymond chuckled, moving toward her desk. “Come on, let’s have lunch.”
Her heart gave a tiny flutter.
Lunch with Raymond was one of the rare moments she could breathe without the weight of Damien’s expectations pressing down on her.
Their conversations flowed effortlessly—he was a talker, and she was a listener, but more importantly, he shared insights into Damien’s preferences, from his favorite restaurants to how he liked her coffee.
“Lunch… by 4:33pm?” Jasmine asked, raising one perfectly arched eyebrow.
“Well, it is the second time we’re eating today, so…” Raymond let the words trail off, pursing his lips in a way that made her want to roll her eyes and grin at the same time.
“I can’t, Ray,” she said, checking her watch mid-sentence. “I have to get Damien to his dinner appointment in… twelve minutes.” She blinked innocently, batting her eyelashes without meaning to. The gesture was subtle, but she knew he noticed.
Raymond leaned forward, propping his hands on her desk as he looked down at her. “Come on… you can at least spare me twelve minutes. It’s not like he’ll be on time to the restaurant anyway.”
Jasmine huffed, standing and preparing to argue, but before she could finish, Raymond reached across, gripping her hands lightly but firmly.
The gesture pulled her up and out of her chair in one smooth motion. Her protests died in her throat as he guided her through the office with surprising ease, his grip steadying her even as her heart began to race
As they walked down the hallway, Jasmine allowed herself a moment to look around. The office space was breathtaking in ways she hadn’t noticed before—the ceiling lights glimmered against the pristine marble floors, the walls lined with white and gold panels gleaming softly under the ambient light.
The entire area had a feeling of luxury tempered by functionality, something Damien clearly valued.
Her mind, however, was only partially on her surroundings.
The other part was consumed with Raymond’s proximity. He moved with the kind of confidence that made her toes curl slightly in her flats. Every step he took, every subtle motion—like the way his hand brushed her arm as he guided her forward—made her acutely aware of the space between them.
They approached the elevator, and Raymond held it open for her. “After you,” he said, his voice low, teasing. Jasmine stepped in, feeling the slight shiver of anticipation as the doors closed.
The ride was silent, but the air between them was thick. Jasmine’s fingers fidgeted with the strap of her handbag, her mind racing over all the things she still had to do. Damien’s dinner appointment, the shareholder meeting notes she needed to prepare for, the endless stream of emails that would arrive as soon as she returned… it was overwhelming, but somehow having Raymond there made it feel slightly more manageable.
When the doors opened, they were greeted by the smell of freshly brewed coffee and pastries from the company canteen. Jasmine paused, taking in the warm aroma, her stomach rumbling slightly. Raymond caught the glance and smirked.
“Smells good, doesn’t it?” he said.
“Yes… irresistible,” she replied softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.
He led her to a quieter corner of the canteen, far enough from the bustling crowd that they could talk without interruption. “Alright, lunch,” he said, tilting his head playfully. “Let’s make this quick. What’s on your plate?”
Jasmine groaned inwardly but smiled nonetheless. “On my plate? Literally and figuratively?”
Raymond laughed lightly. “Both. You need to eat, yes, but I mean… how’s the first week going? Is Damien giving you trouble yet?”
She felt heat rise to her cheeks. “Not yet,” she admitted. “But I’ve only just started. And trust me, just being in the same building is… intimidating.”
Raymond leaned back slightly, eyes glinting with amusement. “Ah, I see. So the great Damien Black is keeping you on edge already. I’d say that’s a good sign—you’ve got him noticing you. That’s half the battle.”
Jasmine rolled her eyes, trying to suppress the blush creeping up her neck. “Not sure that’s something I want, Ray.”
“Oh, come on,” he teased, leaning forward slightly, voice lowered conspiratorially. “You know you’re going to have to keep him entertained at all times. That’s just part of the fun of being his assistant.”
She huffed, shaking her head, though she couldn’t stop the tiny grin forming on her lips. “Fun, he says… you’ve clearly never worked for him.”
Raymond chuckled, eyes warm. “Maybe not, but I’ve seen enough to know. You’ll do fine. Just… don’t let him intimidate you too much. And remember—he notices everything.”
Jasmine nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’ll try not to get eaten alive.”
Raymond laughed at that, the sound rich and comforting. “Good. That’s the spirit. Now, let’s grab our food. You’re on Damien’s schedule, but you’re still allowed to breathe, remember? You need fuel for that brilliant brain of yours.”
She finally allowed herself to relax slightly, grateful for his presence. As they moved toward the serving area, Jasmine thought about the whirlwind of her day so far—bookings, meetings, Damien’s intimidating presence, and now Raymond’s light-hearted company.
Somehow, she felt ready to take on anything.
Even Damien.
~
“You really need to relax and take a breather,” Raymond said, leaning back slightly in his chair, his gaze fixed on me with that effortless calm that always unnerved me a little.
I rolled my eyes, bringing my cup of coffee to my parted lips, letting the hot liquid slide down my dry throat.
The sweetness lingered, teasing the back of my tongue, and the cardamom hit just right—a warm, fragrant punch that made me forget, for a split second, how tense I’d been all day.
“I don’t overwork myself,” I murmured, more to my own thoughts than to him, “at least not as much as Damien does.”
Raymond’s eyebrows lifted just slightly, a small smile tugging at his lips, though he said nothing.
I let my mind wander.
Damien hardly ever left his office. Always the same two points—the office to the conference room, meetings, calls, and then back. Rarely, if ever, did he take a proper break. It was exhausting just to think about keeping up with him.
Which was why I was surprised he’d agreed to come to a restaurant for dinner. He usually had everything delivered, untouched, straight to his office.
Raymond’s voice pulled me back to reality. “You’re actually right, though…” He took a slow sip of his latte, his eyes never leaving mine, the amber liquid catching the light just enough to make the small pause between words feel deliberate.
“He needs to loosen up a bit,” he continued, voice measured, almost teasing. “I don’t think he would even go for the party.”
I froze mid-sip, the heat from the coffee suddenly sharp in my chest. Party?
“What party?”