Trapped in the boss's embrace (by Katrina A) novel Chapter 111

Chapter 111 Damian's Blind Date

Beatrice was speechless.

Looking forward to what, exactly?

Why the hell should I care about your blind date?

It's not like it's for me!

"I'm happy for you, Mr. Crowley," she finally said, forcing a smile. "Your happiness means a lot to the company. Everyone's really hoping you'll find fulfillment in family life and a wonderful marriage."

She'd cleverly framed it as a collective sentiment, not just her own.

Damian shut his laptop. "Nice speech, Ms. Lawson. Ever thought about working as a host?" He nodded with exaggerated admiration. "Backstabbing the hand that feeds you and hosting events—truly a lady of many hidden talents."

Beatrice felt her chest tighten at his sarcasm.

Whatever, just let it go.

She reminded herself—he did stand up for her this morning.

Thinking of that, his sharp tongue didn't seem all that unbearable anymore.

She just smiled without saying a word.

Damian stood up and headed for the door.

In the elevator, Beatrice stood behind him as they descended.

Suddenly, she heard a low grunt of pain.

Damian's body tilted to the side, like he was about to collapse.

She rushed forward to catch him. "Mr. Crowley, are you okay?" Her voice was filled with genuine concern.

Damian lowered his gaze to her, his expression twisted in pain—like some old injury had flared up.

He leaned into her slightly, his eyes dark and intense. "Did you... poison that pin?"

Beatrice almost burst out laughing.

She was so done with his drama.

"Mr. Crowley, if you're trying to get out of that blind date, don't drag me into it."

Damian frowned. "Ms. Lawson, I see how it is. Your concern for me... was all fake."

Beatrice paused. "I'm not gonna be your scapegoat. If you don't wanna go, tell your mom yourself. As far as I'm concerned, my shift's just about over."

Damian's eyes darkened. He waited until the elevator doors opened before straightening up and walking out with his usual cold, aristocratic demeanor.

She barely caught his long sigh as he muttered, "You're really determined to make me go on this blind date, aren't you?"

Beatrice was speechless.

How many times do I have to say it?

It's your mom who wants you to go, not me!

Why do you keep blaming me?

Being the boss doesn't mean you get to be totally unreasonable!

*****

In the garage, Ethan leaned against the car, waiting for them.

Once they got in, he asked, "Heading to the apartment?"

"No, Mr. Crowley has a blind date today," Beatrice replied, then gave him the restaurant address.

"A blind date?" Ethan widened his eyes. "You're going with him?"

Beatrice just smiled mysteriously and waved her hand. "Just drive."

Ethan looked completely confused, constantly glancing in the rearview mirror as he drove.

Damian had closed his eyes to rest as soon as he got in.

His handsome face seemed to radiate an icy mist—like a fancy escort being forced to take a client he didn't want. He looked miserable but stuck with no way out.

Beatrice was totally helpless about the situation.

She had planned to explain things to Dylan this morning, but Damian acted like it was no big deal. Instead, Dylan reported it to David and Maria, and suddenly, it became a big deal after all.

There was no way Damian could outrank his own parents.

The phone vibrated with an incoming message.

Violet had sent the intercepted conversation—eager as always to share the latest gossip.

Beatrice plugged in her earbuds and hit play.

Madeline's and Jane's voices filled her ears.

Damian was currently ordering their food.

He politely asked about her preferences, every movement exuding effortless grace.

Anastasia Whitmore's eyes sparkled with excitement, though she hid it behind a composed exterior, responding with perfect poise.

Once they had ordered, she initiated the conversation.

Damian chatted along, humble and gentle, every bit the gentleman.

Anastasia felt like she was floating on air.

When her father had arranged this blind date, she'd been reluctant. She'd met plenty of so-called good men from good families, with good character, but after talking to them for just a few minutes, they'd always turned her off.

But Damian was different.

Beyond his flawless looks, he had a noble air about him. His speech was cultured without being pretentious, gentle and gentlemanly, with every single movement as elegant as something out of a dream.

Anastasia was smitten, completely captivated. She was pretty sure she had already fallen for him.

She sneakily snapped a photo, planning to show it off to her besties later.

Beatrice ordered a ton of food. She'd barely touched her lunch, too stressed about David cornering her for a talk.

But now, all that anxiety had burned away, and she could finally eat whatever she wanted.

She took her time, only stealing the occasional glance in Damian's direction. Things seemed to be going pretty well over there.

Her phone buzzed again with another text from Violet.

Apparently, Madeline had shown up at the Belmont Manor and gone on another crazy rant with Desmond.

Violet: [I swear Desmond is being threatened. What if that psycho woman completely loses it and kills him too?]

Beatrice couldn't be bothered to give a real response.

Honestly, whether Desmond was being threatened, held captive, or even slaughtered—she had more sympathy for a stray dog than for him.

She just kept eating, drinking, and half-heartedly responding to texts, completely phoning it in with this "advisor" role that had been thrust upon her.

Damian glanced over at her. She was happily twirling pasta around her fork, her eyes flicking to her phone as she typed one-handed with impressive speed.

Her mouth was busy, her hands were busy, and her eyes were busy—she was too wrapped up in her own world to pay him any attention.

Damian sighed internally.

"Mr. Crowley, there's an art exhibition this Saturday. Are you free? We should go together," Anastasia suggested. She wasn't about to pass up a prime catch like him.