Chapter 9
Grant’s footsteps echoed through the empty halls as he made his way to his bedroom. His jacket landed in a heap on the bed after he tossed it, the sound muffled in the spacious room. He yanked the tie from his neck, the fabric slipping through his fingers, and tossed it aside. With a brisk stride, he crossed to the drink cart, the clink of glass echoing his mounting frustration.
His hands, shaking with a rare unsteadiness, grasped the crystal decanter, disturbing the amber liquid inside. He poured and downed a scotch in one swift, burning gulp, the heat of the alcohol a stark contrast to his chilling thoughts.
What he’d overheard had struck straight at his heart. The words echoed again in his head. “I’ll meet you at the hotel. I can’t wait to see you. I love you, too.”
He took another sip as he struggled to rein in his emotions. His jaw tensed as he analyzed her voice. Light, happy, genuine.
Who was she talking to?
He grabbed his phone and scrolled to the head of his security team, Max. His thumb hovered over the call icon, considering calling him and asking him to dig into his wife’s cell phone records to determine who she was talking to.
With a hard swallow, he forced the phone down with a clatter, the sound resonating like a gavel in the quiet room.
He didn’t have the right to do that. Or maybe he did.
“Did you find Mrs. Harrington?” Worthington’s voice cut through the silence as he gathered the discarded tie and jacket.
Grant set his glass down with a controlled clatter. “No, and I don’t intend to.” His voice betrayed both strain and restraint.
Worthington paused, his expression pensive. “And yet, it seems to weigh on you, sir.”
“Does it?” Grant tugged open his cufflinks and tossed them down.
“It sounds as though you disagree.”
Grant stared into space for a moment. “It doesn’t matter what I think. I was a fool to do this.”
“Now that, I do disagree with. I think the experience has not only done what it was intended to but provided some…fringe benefits.”
Grant poked a finger at him. “That’s where you’re wrong, Worthington.”
The fringe benefits Worthington suggested weren’t legitimate. And he had no right to hold her to anything. The sad realization melted some of the anger, leaving behind only remorse.
A pang of something else he couldn’t quite name twisted in his chest. He had no right, no claim to her heart. Yet, the thought of her with someone else twisted a knife in a wound he hadn’t known he possessed. Their agreement was clear and emotionless, so why did this feel like a betrayal?
“Am I?” Worthington asked as he delivered Grant’s sleepwear to him.
“Yes, definitely.”
“That remains to be seen, sir.”
Grant wanted to prove Worthington wrong at that moment. But he felt like he would choke on the words as they came out. Could he actually admit Julia had told someone else she loved them?
“Is there anything else, sir?”
“No, that’s it for the night. Thank you, Worthington.”
The man nodded and strode to the door. “Good night, Mr. Harrington. Try to remember that things are not always as they seem. Mrs. Clarke’s miraculous resurrection should have made that clear.”
Grant slid his eyes closed at the cheery statement. He’d rather hurl his glass across the room than take solace in deluding himself. Those glimmers of Julia he’d seen, the ones that had set his heart on fire in a way he’d never expected, weren’t his.
They’d never be his.
That stung more than anything. He understood why she’d pulled away earlier, why she’d said he owed her nothing. She wanted nothing from him.
He changed his clothes, his thoughts hollow before he slipped into bed. In the darkness, the cavernous space shadowed the turmoil in his mind. Memories of his previous marriages haunted him. Each one provided a stark contrast to what he felt for Julia.
In the end, each marriage had been revealed to be more of a transaction than a relationship, cold exchanges devoid of warmth. His previous wives had wanted something from him. Wealth and status, mainly, but Julia wanted nothing material from him. Her indifference strayed from his previous wives’ calculated affections. Her behavior was foreign to him, enigmatic, making her possibly unattainable. What could he offer her?
When he rose the next morning, he felt little relief. Why did this feel so different from any other relationship? Perhaps it was because, despite having a contract, he had less control over her than any of his other wives.
He scoffed at the statement as he rose for a shower. What control did he have over them? All four had left him.
His mind remained unclear as he pulled on his suit jacket. “Is everything all right, Mr. Harrington?” Worthington asked as he brushed any stray lint from the shoulders.
“I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Very good, sir.” Worthington took his leave, understanding Grant had no desire to talk. He stared at himself in the mirror, adjusting his tie. His mind flitted to last night.
Julia had straightened his bow tie. It had felt so natural. And then she’d gone upstairs to tell another man she loved him.
His reflection blurred as the words from the conversation he’d overheard echoed in his mind. His fingers tightened around the silky fabric of the tie as turmoil churned inside of him. It wasn’t just the words, but the lightness in her voice that pierced him, a contrast to the heavy silence that now filled his room.
He stared into his own icy blue eyes. What had happened to him? Why did she affect him so deeply?
He tore his eyes away, forcing himself to move downstairs for breakfast. As his heels clicked off the cold marble floor he was reminded how empty his house had felt before Julia lived here. As if on cue, her voice floated in the air with a single word. “Yes.”
“I’ll have James bring your car around,” Worthington answered.
She was going out. But James would know where she went. Good.
“No need, I’ll head down there for the keys.”
“Are you quite certain? And no breakfast?”
“Not today,” she answered. “And, yes, I’m certain. It’s no trouble at all, and the truth is I’m running a little late.”
Her voice sounded chipper, excited. It soured his stomach even more than what he heard last night. He hurried down the stairs. “Julia? You’re leaving?”
She glanced up at him before she avoided his gaze. Were her cheeks flushing? “Uh, yes. I have an appointment this morning.”
Appointment? Was that what they were calling it these days?
“Is James driving you?” Grant kept his voice casual, but his eyes searched hers intently.
She smiled, not her normal smile. “No. I was going to drive. Now that you bought me that new car, I figured I’d use it.”
Grant studied her, trying to glean any details from her. “Right. I’m glad you like it.”
There was that fake smile again that betrayed her nerves. “Bye!” she called in a voice one octave too high.
She darted out the door. It slammed behind her with a resounding boom that made his heart clench.
Before Worthington could say anything, Grant stormed to his office, his hand clenched into a fist. His thoughts circled to the unknown man Julia was about to meet. A phantom rival. He couldn’t shake the need to understand what he offered Julia. Was it emotional connection, shared interests, or simple compatibility?
The questions gnawed at him, fueling a desire to unravel this mystery. It was this need that drove him to snatch the phone from the base and call his security team head, Max. He needed to know where he stood, and where he fell short.
“Mr. Harrington,” Worthington said as he followed him, “would you prefer your breakfast here?”
“I’m not hungry,” he answered as the line trilled.
Worthington stood quietly, awaiting orders as Max picked up on the opposite end. “It’s me,” Grant snapped. “Julia went out. Find out where, what she’s doing, who she’s meeting. Report back as soon as you know.”
Grant’s hand hovered in the air, still holding the receiver, his thoughts a whirlwind of conflict. He needed to understand what he was up against. A compelling urge to size up the unseen competition had driven him to make that call despite the sense of intrusion. With a heavy sigh, he replaced the receiver more gently than he intended as his mind raced.
“Is that wise, sir?” Worthington asked.
Grant stared into space as he shrugged. “Julia received a threatening note, and we still haven’t tracked down the source. She’s out alone. We shouldn’t take chances.”
“Yet, you did not ask Mr. Maxwell to ensure her safety, you asked him to report on her activities.”
“She is my wife, Worthington.”
Worthington arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
“Don’t give me that look. I think I’ll work from home today. Would you bring me a cup of coffee?”
“Of course, sir.” Worthington disappeared from the room as Grant sank into his chair.
He stared at the phone for a moment, willing it to ring with information, but it remained stoically silent. He pushed himself to focus on work, swiveling to face his monitor.
Everything seemed to be against him today. As he waited for the display to glow to life, he caught sight of the wedding photo. The display mocked him.
Her loving smile, her sparkling eyes. What was behind them? Had she been thinking of the other man when they’d taken that picture?
The thought turned his stomach.
Worthington returned with his coffee, setting it on the desk. “Are you certain you would not like breakfast?”
Worthington’s question lingered in the air, along with a dozen unsaid implications hanging between them.
“Yes,” Grant said as the door opened and slammed shut. He glanced through the open door, hoping to find Julia returning, her cheeks flushed and her lips parted as she rushed into his office and told him she couldn’t meet another man while married to him.
Instead, the signature stamping of high heels announced Sierra’s arrival.
He arched an eyebrow at her as she stomped her way inside. “You’re up early.”
She snapped a shocked glance his way.
“Out already?”
“Yeah, early morning meeting.” She slicked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Why? What have you heard?”
He stared at her for a moment. Why was everyone acting so strangely today?
“Nothing. Did you happen to see Julia on your way in?”
“What? No! Why would I have seen Julia?” Her rushed speech made him think she was lying. Had Sierra caught her with her beau? He dismissed the idea immediately. If she had, she would have reported it immediately.
“She was on her way out, I thought maybe you passed each other.”
“Nope. Well, I’ve gotta run, Daddy. I’m super busy with publishing things. Bye!” She darted up the stairs before he could respond.
His face scrunched as he tried to understand the behavior of the two most important females in his life.
“I’m starting to believe I’m going insane, Worthington.”
Worthington chuckled. “I doubt that, sir.”
“It’s not me, is it? Julia was acting strange this morning, and now Sierra.”
“Ms. Harrington’s behavior is always an enigma to me.”
“And the current Mrs. Harrington’s behavior?” Grant leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together as he awaited the man’s response.
“She seemed…eager to get to her appointment.”
“Eager,” Grant repeated, hating the sound of the word.
“If I may, sir, is there some reason this particular appointment is of concern to you?”
Grant tugged his briefcase onto the desk and snapped it open, shuffling through files. “Should there be?”
Worthington flicked his eyebrows up. “I don’t know, but you seem…agitated by it.”
“She doesn’t usually leave the house, does she?”
“No, she spends much of her time working on her writing.”
He wasn’t sure if that brought him comfort or made it worse. He weighed the words before he selected a file and closed the briefcase. “She’s seeing someone else.”
The surprise on Worthington’s face was unmistakable. “Mrs. Harrington is…seeing another man?”
“I’m fairly certain, yes.”
Worthington’s brows knitted as he weighed the words.
“I have to know who he is. What she sees in him.”
Worthington lifted his chin. “I understand, sir. I hope you get the answers you seek, but…”
Grant snapped his gaze up from the folder he browsed. “But?”
“I only hope this does not cause unnecessary strife where none is needed,” Worthington said, his words carefully measured.
With a sigh, Grant bobbed his head up and down. “You and me both, Worthington.”
“I will leave you to your business, sir.” Worthington strode from the room and closed the doors behind him, leaving Grant alone with his tortured thoughts.
He forced himself to concentrate on the contract he reviewed, but his mind constantly drifted back to Julia, filling in the gaps. Was she with him now?
He swiped the phone from the receiver, intending to call Max for an update when he shook his head. He needed to concentrate on his work. He couldn’t lose focus now. The company would end up being the only thing he had left.
A knock interrupted his rumination. “Yeah?”
Worthington strode into the room, a large envelope in his hands. “This just arrived for you, sir.”
“Thank you, Worthington,” Grant said with a nod as he accepted the envelope. Perhaps the contents held the key to diverting his attention.
He grabbed the silver letter opener from the pencil cup and sliced it open, sliding out the contents. His heart stopped as his gaze locked onto Julia’s image–her sparkling eyes, that slight smile. He recognized the dress she wore to the Crescent City Charity Gala. The picture shook in his hands, each tremor distorting the image.
Why had this been sent to him?
Heavy silence thickened the air around him until his ringing phone shattered the stillness in a jarring, insistent sound that echoed endlessly before he reached for the receiver. His heart raced as he lifted the receiver to his ear, a chill of foreboding making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“Yeah?”
A robotic voice cut through the line, sending a shiver down his spine. “Mr. Harrington, did you get our special delivery?”
“Who is this?”
“Someone you owe. Big. And unless you want something to happen to that pretty new wife, you’ll pay. Instructions coming soon.”
The line clicked. He stared at the receiver as he pulled it away from his ear. His heart pounded, and he glanced at Worthington. Someone had just threatened Julia. And he had no idea who.