Chapter 43 - Cat's Out of the Bag

**Lisa**  

"Hello?" I said. 

"We have a huge problem, Lisa."  

I straightened my posture.  

"Now what?"  

"The location just gave me a call.  There has been some sort of confusion.  We don't have a venue yet.

I almost dropped the phone. "We what?"  

Damon's hands on my shoulders went cold.  "What happened?"

I stood up, walking away from him. “I—okay, I need details. What do you mean we don’t have the space? It’s been booked for weeks.”  

“There was a double booking. Another event is scheduled for the same night, and apparently, they paid first.”  

I ran a hand over my face. “So what, we just cancel everything? Move it to a parking lot? Serve fast food from the trunk of my car?”  I panned.

“Should I inform Mr. Blacknight?”

I already messed up with the catering, if I add this to my list of errors so far, I don't know how Damon will take it, “No. It's fine. I'll find a way around it. Besides, we still have time.”

Or so I thought…

….

The days got busier as the event drew close and then Damon announced the unexpected.

“Lisa, you've been doing a great job so far. I think it's high time we have a physical meeting.”

“What? Why do we need a physical meeting?”

“I need to meet with some investors before the event.” 

“Oh, but why do I need to come?” I asked.

“Because you are the lead project manager for this project.”

“Yeah, right.” I panned stalking over to my room.

I sat in front of my closet and for the first time in forever, I had a problem choosing what to wear because there were too many options to pick from.

I laid my tip five picks on the bed and called out for Damon.

“Why were you screaming my name? I thought it was an emergency.” He asked when he finally strolled into my name.

“Thank God it wasn't, you sure took your time. Anyway, it's an emergency but a different kind. A fashion emergency.” I pointed at the outfits on the bed, “Which one should I wear?” I asked.

“Is that why you called me?”

“Yes. You said I could ask you for help when I need it.”

“I was talking about helping with the project, not helping you play dress up.” He exasperated.

“Sounds like the same thing to me.” I said indifferently.

“Fine.” He said, scanning the different outfits. “Wear that one.” He pointed to a red knee length dress with gold details. “That colour always goes well with your skin.” With that he walked out of the room.

He was correct. Red always made my skin pop. I complimented it with red lipstick of course, holding my hair up in a professional ponytail.

I walked out of my room to see Damon dressed and waiting. 

He didn't take his eyes off me. “What. You're staring. Did I grow out a third eye?”

His eyes roamed over my body as he said, “No, darling. You look so beautiful.” My insides melted, my throat burned.

I nodded and walked ahead to the door. The earlier we got our of here, the better for us both.

…

Sitting at the head of a very long conference table, next to Damon, I had never felt more out of place in my life. Damon placed a palm on my lap under the table in an attempt to calm me but it only made me burn hotter. 

I was seated in the same space, breathing the same air with Paris' most influential socialites and business moguls. People who had literally no idea what it means to be broke and poor and then there was me. 

Damon, on the other hand, didn't fit in. Nan. He stood tall. He greeted everyone and started with a brief on the meeting agenda. I was too anxious. I was supposed to take notes and I watched Damon’s lips move but I couldn't hear any words.

I resorted to recording. I'd listen later.

Whenever Damon allowed the other people on the table to speak, they always took a minute to sing my praises, commending me for doing an excellent job so far. By the time the meeting ended, some people even walked up to me, same old me, to ask for mh business card (but oops I didn't have any), and some people offered me jobs at their corporations.

I had to turn them down which earned me even more praises for my loyalty to Damon.

Finally, we left the conference hall, free of the buzz of happy partners, I sipped a deep breath.

A wave of guilt hit me. All those people, including Damon were looking up to me, expecting me to perform, expecting me to make the gala successful and productive, unfortunately I'd failed. 

The gala was in two days and all my efforts at getting a new venue have been vain. Now all I have is resentment and regret. I should have told Damon when it happened. He would have fixed it. If he finds out now…I don't even want to imagine what would happen.

I need to fix it. I'll make more calls when I get back to the hotel. I'll be more persuasive. I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice that I'd walked into moving traffic. 

A motorbike was approaching at full speed, honking loudly but my legs had forgotten how to move. I glared at the front lights, waiting for the cold breath of death when a hand reached out and yanked me out of the road.

“Earth to, Lisa! What were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

I couldn't make out any words, I just burst into tears and walked over to the car, leaving him there.

“Are you okay, Lisa?” Damon asked, his voice full of worry.

I nodded quietly.

“If you feel overwhelmed by all this I can take it all away. If something is up, you can talk to me.” 

I stayed quiet. When we got into our apartment, I headed for the shelter of my room but Damon booked my path,

“Lisa, something is wrong. I know it. Just talk to me. Tell me what it is. Please.”

“For the umpteenth time, Damon, I'm fine!” I screamed, bolting for my room.

I wiped my eyes clean, washed my face, drank some water and started making calls. Crying isn't going to solve my problems, action will.

After getting multiple rejections again, I sat on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

Damon walked into my room, so quietly, I almost didn't notice. But that wasn't the real problem. His face was red with fury, and his fists clenched.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

“When were you going to tell, Lisa?”

“What? Tell you what?” I asked, puzzled.

“Don't play smart with me. When were you going to tell me that we don't have a venue for the gala!” He shouted.

My face went white with shock.

Game over.