@ofmargot
   board meetings are perhaps the worst thing that have come out of damon’s acquisition of the company and more often than not, he spends them completely zoning out. the more senior members--such as the ones who had been around when his dad was in charge--had given up several years ago trying to scold damon into paying attention, not only because of the fruitlessness of the gesture but because they’ve learned not to provoke his wrath if they can help it. the company is, after all, still afloat seven years later, and though most of them resent the way he does it, none of them have chosen to keep their pride and leave. he’s forty-five minutes into a presentation on the benefits of partnering up with another company damon already knows he wants nothing to do with when his wandering gaze lands upon a very familiar blonde standing just outside the conference room's glass wall. his jaw clenches and for a moment he stays seated, eyes moving to the security guard who’s giving her mistrustful looks and then back to her slight frame. without explanation he finally stands and leaves, ignoring the grumbling and huffs of irritation that are muffled anyway when the door closes behind him. “margot,” he states flatly, pleased by the way his voice is as steady as ever in spite of the squirming sensation of unease in his gut. he gives the guard a single look that has him vacating the area, but it’s still in a low, threatening tone that he continues between clenched teeth, “are you drunk? are you high? i can’t think of another reason for you to be here once again after i’ve made it abundantly clear i don’t want to see you anywhere near this building.”
