Chapter 7
Grant’s mind raced in a thousand directions as Julia strode away from him. From the fallout of the party to the mysterious Christopher Metcalfe incident Julia hinted at to their canceled conversation, there were several things he had wanted to clear up and more than one topic he needed to discuss with Julia.
Especially now with the outburst from his daughter. His frustration with Sierra made his muscles tense. She needed to be set straight before she caused more trouble than she already had.
Julia disappeared up the stairs, and Grant stormed into the living room, passing through the dimly lit corridor, the shadows echoing those that loomed large in his mind.
“Finally,” Sierra groaned.
Grant knew his daughter well. This conversation required a delicate touch, but his frustrations boiled over as he recalled the expression on Julia’s face when Sierra had laid into her. “You were way out of line, Sierra.”
Sierra wrinkled her nose, offering him an incredulous glance. “Are you serious?”
Grant clenched his jaw, tightening the muscles along with his fists. “I’m more than serious.”
“You’re taking her side?”
“We are all on the same side here,” he answered.
Sierra offered him an unimpressed stare, a single, flat word escaping her lips. “Wow.”
He tugged his chin back to his chest. “Excuse me?”
“I said wow. As in, I can’t believe this.” Sierra crossed her arms, the stormy look in her eyes contrasting with the room’s comfort. “She’s supposed to make small talk at parties, gaze lovingly into your eyes, and make people think you’re an all-around upstanding guy.”
“And I think she’s done a fabulous job at managing that so far. Especially given what we’ve handed her to work with.”
Sierra clicked her tongue as she poured herself another drink. “Oh, come on. You are an extremely talented CEO, everyone knows that. We just needed to paint you as an all-around stable, family guy, not a man on the hunt for his next ex-wife.”
Grant guffawed. “Sierra, the day after our wedding, I was arrested for murder. Two days after, I had to hold a press conference in which a reporter shoved a microphone into her face and asked her how she could stand beside a murderer.”
Sierra twisted to eye him, lifting a shoulder. “So, she’s had a few…challenges. Big deal. She’s getting paid enough.” Sierra flicked her gaze to her drink before she added, “It’s not like she’s doing it for free.”
“About that…”
“What? Oh, no, you aren’t giving her more money because of the murder thing, are you?”
Grant shook his head as their contract and the rejection of his subsequent gifts flitted through his mind. “No, but please stop bringing that up. She is not hired help.”
“She is.”
Grant heaved a sigh, his frustration not dissipating. “No, Sierra, she is not. She is not paid to be arm candy. If she was, we’d already be losing this battle. Because she’s intelligent enough to put a stop to inquiries from reporters and people like Veronica Lawson, we stand a chance. We picked her for a reason, remember?”
Sierra nodded. “Yeah, because she has that innocent doe-eyed look that screams wholesome. Not because she has a brain.”
Grant scrubbed his face. “Sierra, if she’d only had an innocent doe-eyed look, I’d still be in jail for murder.”
“That’s not true. Mitchell is an excellent attorney. He would have definitely figured something out.”
“Before or after they actually killed Evie?” Grant stalked across the room to pour himself a drink.
Sierra pressed her lips together in a thin line as she accepted defeat on that front. “Fine, okay, she’s smart, too. But she doesn’t need to involve herself in every facet of our lives.”
“She is my wife.”
“In name only, Daddy,” Sierra reminded him.
The words were another punch to his gut. The same as Julia’s line about owing her nothing. Was he the only one with anything invested in this? When he caught her before dinner, she’d been closer to her old self. She’d acted like they were a team again, but then her words didn’t match.
“She’s smart, and she may be good at this role, but that doesn’t mean she’s going to stick around.”
Did Sierra”s words stem from a clearer perception of Julia, or were her views just as biased by her fears born from a mother who left her too early? Was she struggling as much as he was with her emotions over Julia?
He felt a twinge in his chest, a mix of emotions he couldn’t bring himself to admit. The thought of Julia leaving felt distinctly personal rather than contractual.
“Anyway, what did you think of Christopher Metcalfe? I think he’d be fabulous to bring into the company.”
At the mention of his name, Grant’s mind lingered on the unease he felt. He’d sensed something off, too, like Julia had. “I didn’t talk to him enough to get an impression. I was a little busy defending my actions from a hostile board member, remember?”
“Hardly. Julia handled that, like you said. And I know you…you make judgments super quickly. Your skills are honed. Now, what did you think?”
Grant rubbed his forehead. “I think I’d like to hear what Julia had to say about him rifling through the desk in the private library.”
Sierra offered him an unimpressed stare. “You’re kidding me. Again with what Julia says. I want to know what you have to say, Daddy.”
Grant’s nerves broke. “He was fine. If you want help at the publishing company, hire him.”
“I was thinking something more like a position with Harrington Global.”
“Are you seeing him?”
Sierra scoffed. “No.”
“Then why is this so important to you?”
Sierra lifted a shoulder. “I just…think he’s a good addition that we’d have in our pocket. I’m trying to contribute.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Sierra grinned at him as she planted a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, Daddy. I’ll tell him to expect a call from you.”
“No, Sierra–” he called as she flitted out of the room. With a deep sigh, he settled back against the arm of the couch and sipped his scotch.
His mind went over the conversation again, picking out details from Sierra’s dismantling of Julia. His thoughts centered on a moment during her recovery. He’d left her alone to answer a phone call and returned to find her eating ice cream for dinner.
The expression on those delicate features as he walked through the door, mixed with surprise and guilt before they turned playful shot through his mind. After confessing she thought he’d be gone far longer, she raised a shoulder and claimed, “It’s healthy. It’s dairy. And I had Worthington add nuts for protein.”
He smiled at the memory, a chuckle escaping him.
“Celebrating a successful evening, sir?” Worthington asked as he swept into the room and surveyed it.
“More or less,” Grant answered him.
“That sounds…less than preferable by your standards. What went awry?”
Grant stared into the reflective surface of his beverage. “Nothing much, just some pressure from the board.”
“I cannot imagine you could not field it.” Worthington collected several glasses and delivered them to a tray across the room.
“The problem wasn’t my answers, it was that no response I gave could have answered the question.”
Worthington arched an eyebrow as Grant rose to freshen his drink. “Julia handled it beautifully.”
“I would have expected nothing less from Mrs. Harrington. Then the incident earlier today did not affect her?”
“She confounds me,” Grant said with a shake of his head.
“Oh?”
“I told you, she was closed and cold earlier. But when we’re working together, like after the dinner, she was like her old self.”
“Perhaps when she feels useful, sir. Wanted.”
Grant reflected on the last word. “I’m not certain we’re doing a fantastic job of that. Sierra was her usual charming self after the dinner when Julia voiced an opinion she didn’t want to hear about her new business associate.”
“Mrs. Harrington does not approve?”
“She said something about finding him in the private library rifling through the desk drawers.”
Worthington raised his eyebrows. “Did she say anything further?”
“She didn’t have the chance to. Sierra told her that her opinion was neither wanted nor welcomed.” Grant collapsed onto the couch with a sigh. “Has she seemed unusually hostile lately?”
“Ms. Harrington?” Worthington asked, delivering more glasses to the tray. “Perhaps she is still adjusting to the change in the household.”
“Sierra doesn’t do well with change. And I’m starting to suspect the temporary nature of our arrangement with Julia isn’t sitting well with her.”
“A very astute observation,” Worthington answered. “It’s my opinion she is not the only Harrington unhappy with the temporary nature of that arrangement.”
Grant stared at the liquid at the bottom of his tumbler, knowing that his butler referred to him. Indeed, the lines of their relationship had already blurred, just as Julia stated earlier. But was that unwelcome for any of them?
Perhaps he could find some answers sooner than he expected. He finished the last of his drink and rose from the couch. “Do you happen to know if Mrs. Harrington is still awake?”
“I do not, sir.”
Grant passed his glass off to the older man. “I think I’ll check. Maybe I can clear up some of the ambiguities that seem to be bothering everyone so much.”
“Well, I certainly applaud the move. Good luck, sir.”
“Thank you.” Grant undid his tie as he strode to the foyer, allowing it to hang around his neck. He slipped out of his jacket and slung it over his shoulder as he mounted the stairs.
He imagined a long conversation well into the night that cleared up all of the issues facing them. They’d shared interesting conversations during her recovery from her concussion. She had been so easy to talk to.
His heels clicked off the marble floors as he wound through the dimly lit halls, the heavy scent of wood polish filling the air. He imagined despite the difficulty of saying what he was about to say regarding him not owing her anything, she’d make it easy. And the result would be worth it. He wanted their relationship to be based on truth, not a separation of their personal lives.
The light glowed from under her door as he approached. He smiled as he realized she was still awake. As he closed the distance to her door, raising his fist to knock on it, her voice floated into the hall, her words unintelligible at this distance.
What wasn’t indecipherable was the laugh that escaped next. He paused, his heart skipping a beat as his brow furrowed. The laugh sounded genuine and happy. Worlds away from the tense, closed conversation they’d had earlier, or even the intense, yet more open one they’d shared after dinner.
Was she talking to Sierra? Had they made up?
He shuffled a few steps closer, straining to make out the words. He didn’t hear another voice, only Julia’s. She was on the phone, he realized.
A quick glance at his watch confused him more. Who would she be on the phone with in the wee hours of the morning?
Her sister, his mind said, until he heard the next words. “Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”
Her voice sounded teasing. “Definitely not. I’ll meet you at the hotel.”
He swallowed hard at the last word. Who was Julia meeting at a hotel?
“Yes. That’s perfect. I can’t wait to see you.”
His stomach twisted even more as the conversation continued, but the last words she said chilled him.
“I love you, too.”
Grant stood outside her door, stunned, his hand suspended mid-air, ready to knock. Initially, disbelief numbed his senses, a sinking feeling that matched the ornate, yet cold, precise wall surrounding him.
As her words echoed, her voice light and so happy, disbelief twisted into a piercing sense of betrayal. His heart, which had already begun to weave together unbidden silent hopes and unspoken dreams about Julia, clenched.
The halls seemed to close in around him, each portrait blending into a swirl of colors.
“I love you, too.” Her words replayed over and over. Who was on the other end of that line? Who had the power to command such warmth and affection from her–emotions he wanted even if he couldn’t admit it?
His vision blurred and his breathing turned unsteady as the sting of shock and hurt swirled within him. He usually maintained control in the chessboard of his life, but he had been outmaneuvered by a woman who had slipped right through his fingers.