Chapter 42 - Emails, deadlines, and a dash of romance—Lisa’s got her hands full

**Lisa**

The next day was even busier. I woke up early to meet with another client, I was able to get a positive response and close the meeting on a good note.  I pulled out my iPad and opened my work mail to see if I had any unattended mail from the previous day but to my utmost shock. My inbox was filled with new messages. 

I sucked in a calming breath and went to the fridge to find a pacifying tub of ice cream. I rewarded myself with a spoon of ice-cream for every email and by late morning, I was able to finish up.

Damon finally woke up, “When you told me about this role, you forgot to add that I would be drowning in emails and spreadsheets half the time.” I said accusatory.

“Wow, a pleasant morning to you too, Princess.”

“It's late morning ‘sir’, I've been awake for hours. I spent literal hours decluttering my mailbox. How did I get so many emails overnight? Doesn't anyone sleep these days?” I groaned.

“How the tables have turned, welcome to my life, Lisa ” Damon taunted.

I rolled my eyes, “It’s harder than I thought.”

“You really thought I'd be easy?” He asked.

“Yes, I did. I thought I'd just give orders and go to sleep and have everyone move at my neck. But I have to repeat basic things over and over. Why can't people do what they are told?”

“If you want me to step in for you I can make a few calls to shake everyone up.”

“Thanks. But I'd rather figure it out on my own.”

“Okay. But let me give you a tip. Always give timelines for every task and make it arrive earlier that you actually need it.”

“I'll do that.”I continued working and I didn't realize how much time had passed until Damon walked in, “Baby, it's time to eat.”

I followed him out and sat on the table.

‘“You cooked?” That's something I didn't expect at all 

“Yeah.”

“Whoa,the tables have really turned.” I joked.

…

“I'm finding it hard to finalize the catering shortlist. At this rate, all guests would be served fast food at the gala,” I told Damon.

“Don't worry. I'll help you with that.”

“Thank you.” I squealed.

“Told you already. If you need anything, just ask.”

I tapped my fingers lightly on the table, deep in thought.

“A penny for your thoughts.” He asked, dropping a penny in front of me.

Where does he even get these pennies? I sighed deeply. "All right, so tell me what I should want from a caterer because I'm not sure what to expect.

"You’ll need professionalism, delicious meals, and—" 

"An endless list of desserts?" 

"No.”

“Fame?”

“No.” 

“Jsif told me already.

“Reliability. Trust me, you don't want a caterer that would bail on you at the last minute or change plans without telling you.”

“So it doesn't matter if they are famous or not. They just need to cook well and be full of integrity?

He nodded.

“All right."  With a dramatic sigh, "But I'm going to blame you if I receive even one complaint about the dessert."  

He grinned.  "That's reasonable."  My phone was buzzing just as I was ready to go back to my notes.  I got a mail.  Scratch that. Ten mail. I groaned, already sensing the beginning of a migraine.  Damon bent forward, peeping into my screen.  "Another apocalypse in the inbox?”

"Why do people send emails rather than simply thinking about their needs and expecting answers to appear out of nowhere?" I asked.

Damon chuckled, "Because, regrettably, telepathy is not a prerequisite for employment."  I threw my hands up in frustration. "It should be!"  

Smiling, Damon took my phone.  “Let's play a game, Princess.  For every three emails you respond to, I'll give you a back rub.” 

I narrowed my eyes.  

“This seems suspiciously similar to bribery.  

"And?"  

"I agree."  My shoulders were sore from sitting in front of my laptop screen for days, but the prospect of a back rub made it all worthwhile. I pushed through the mail as if my life depended on it.  

"I'm done."  

I put my phone down and stretched.  

“Three?" He asked.

“No, everything.”

“That was fast.”

“Less talk, more actions. Where is my reward?"  

Come here, he said, giving his lap a pat.  

I squinted, eyeing him suspiciously.

“You better come now, while I'm asking nicely.”

It took me precisely two seconds to give in.  I let out a loud sigh as I eased into his lap.  “I’ll sue you for damages if you try anything outside the terms of our contract.”

With a laugh, he put his hands on my shoulders and began to softly knead.  I melted like butter in the sun the moment his fingers dug into the tense knots of my muscles.

"Oh God," I moaned. “That's the spot.” “Yes.”

“Uh, I think we would both benefit from your silence during this procedure.” Damon said in a professional voice. 

"It's imperative that you quit being a pain in the ass while this procedure lasts,” I countered.

He had firm, warm hands, and to be honest, he might have wrecked my future massages.  

“Feeling better?” he muttered, leaning in after a time.  I opened one eye.  "Yes, but I don't want you to stop."  

That came out wrong. Thankfully my phone interrupted.

"I *swear*—" if that's another email.  Before I could, Damon grabbed my phone, looked at the screen, “It's not an email.”

“What is it?” I ask, sitting up. 

The catering company that ditched me earlier this week has sent a message.

“We might be able to fit you in after all. When would you be available to schedule a call?” I replied hurriedly and turned to Damon.

“It was you. You called them.”

But He shrugged it off casually, “I might have gently convinced them to change their minds."

“Gently? That doesn't sound like you at all.” 

“The means don't matter. You'll get your elegant dinner and an endless sea of dessert. That's what really matters."  

I squealed and put my arms over his neck.  “You were my favorite person on the planet right now!

"I better be." He said.

“How did you do it?”

“I have a guy for everything.”

“Oh, Damon, will you marry me?”

“If you're open to tolerating for the rest of your life, I would be honoured to marry you.”

I let out a dramatic gasp.  "Are you flirting with me, Damon?   

His voice was low and serious as he leaned in.  "What if I am?"  

I blinked.  I lost my train of thought.  I was about to say something, anything at all, when my phone chimed once more.  

I picked the phone,

“Hello?”

“Yes, that's me?”

“Can you say that again?” I asked quietly.

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain a neutral appearance.  

"Everything all right?" Damon asked languidly.  

I forced the most believable smile I could muster.  

“Yes!  Perfectly alright!”  

His eyebrows went up, sharply,  "Are you sure?  You look—”

I feigned a yawn loudly, interrupting him.  “Just,a little worn out!  A lot of preparation, you know?”  

Damon didn't seem persuaded, but he didn't press.  

“You need to rest, Lisa."  

"I will."  I gave an emphatic nod.  "In approximately five minutes."  

With a shrug, he reclined on the couch.  "Suit yourself."  

The pounding of my heart refocused my focus back on my phone.  

We had a problem, a big one.

I hadn't figured out how bad it was and I had absolutely no idea how to fix it.