Chapter 2 Grant
GRANT
Dinner is at seven sharp because I don’t tolerate lateness in business or in my own house.
I’m already in the dining room when they start trickling in. Donovan first, dressed like he just walked out of a board meeting. Dark slacks, crisp button-down, that perpetual look of mild disapproval he inherited from me.
He pours himself scotch without asking. “Logan’s bringing both of them?”
“Apparently.” I swirl whiskey in my glass, watching firelight dance through the amber. “His girlfriend and his assistant.”
“That’s bold.” Donovan settles into his chair. “Or stupid.”
“With Logan, it’s usually stupid.”
Kai strolls in next, platinum hair still damp from a shower. At least he changed into clean clothes. Black jeans, dark henley. He drops into a chair and props his boots on the table.
I don’t tell him to move them. He will once Logan arrives and starts performing.
“So what’s the girlfriend like?” Kai asks, studying his wine glass like it holds answers. “Besides gorgeous.”
“You met her four hours ago.”
“Yeah, but you always see things we miss.” He grins at me. “That’s why you’re the boss.”
“That’s why I’m your father.”
“Same thing in this family.”
Can’t argue with that.
Logan enters with Samantha on his arm, and I take my time looking at her. She’s changed into a burgundy dress that hits just above the knee. Simple, elegant. Dark hair falling in waves past her shoulders. Minimal jewelry. Heels that add a few inches but don’t scream desperation.
She looks nervous but controlled. Interesting combination.
Chelsea follows them in, laughing at whatever Logan just said. Black cocktail dress that’s too tight, too short. Logan’s hand hovers near the small of her back as he pulls out her chair.
He doesn’t pull out Samantha’s.
“Dad.” Logan’s voice has that false brightness he uses when he’s trying too hard.
“Good to see you again.” Samantha’s smile is polite, but her eyes are busy taking in the Christmas garlands wrapped around the chandelier and the formal place settings.
She’s sharper than Logan’s usual type. Those tend to be decorative and vacant.
“Sit.” I gesture to the chair directly across from me.
Logan steers her there, then takes the seat next to Chelsea instead. Samantha’s smile doesn’t slip.
Staff brings out the first course. Butternut squash soup with sage oil. I wait until everyone’s served before picking up my spoon. Old habit from business dinners where the first person to eat loses.
“So, Samantha.” I let her name hang in the air. “Logan tells us you work in marketing.”
“Digital marketing, yes.” Her voice is steady. “Brand development and social media strategy for a firm in Chicago.”
I study her over my glass. “Tell me about your family. Logan’s been vague.”
There. A flash of unease before she smooths it away.
“Not much to tell. My mother passed a few years ago. My stepfather lives in Denver.”
“Sorry about your mother.” I mean it, even though I’m also cataloging information. The background check I ordered yesterday said the same thing. Dead mother. Stepfather named Robert with gambling debts. Samantha lives paycheck to paycheck despite a decent job.
None of it explains why she’s with my disappointing middle son.
“Thank you.” She takes a careful sip of water. “Logan mentioned you run Hale Consolidated Industries. That must keep you busy.”
“It does.” I set down my glass with deliberate calm. “We’re acquiring a tech company in Denver. Due diligence has been eating up most of my time.”
Logan perks up like a dog hearing its name. “About that, Dad, I was thinking we could discuss my role in—”
“After dinner.”
He deflates immediately. Chelsea touches his arm in what’s meant to be comfort. Samantha pretends not to notice, but her fork stills against her plate.
The main course arrives. Herb-crusted lamb with roasted vegetables. Conversation flows around the table. Kai and Chelsea discuss the gala. Donovan asks Samantha about Chicago, like a lawyer deposing a witness.
She answers with enough detail to sound genuine but not enough to reveal anything real.
“How long have you two been together?” I ask when there’s a lull.
“Ten months,” Samantha says.
“Almost a year.” Logan finally looks at her. “Time flies.”
“It does.” Her smile could cut glass. “Especially when you’re busy with work.”
There’s an edge there. Subtle but sharp.
“Logan works very hard,” Chelsea adds, uninvited. “He’s been essential to the Denver acquisition.”
Donovan makes a sound that might be a cough or might be a laugh. I don’t look at him.
“Logan’s contributions have been noted,” I say, which is corporate speak for mostly useless.
Logan’s jaw tightens. He never argues. Never fights back. That’s his problem. He’s been handed everything and learned nothing about earning it.
Dessert is chocolate mousse with raspberry coulis. Samantha barely touches hers. She’s too busy watching the dynamics at this table like she’s trying to crack a code.
I wonder what she’s really looking for.
When dinner ends, I stand. “Logan, Donovan. My office in fifteen minutes. Kai, you’re handling gala details with Chelsea.”
Kai groans. “Why am I stuck with party planning?”
“Because you won’t make the event planner cry,” Donovan says, heading out.
Logan hesitates, looking between Samantha and Chelsea. “Sam, will you be okay? I might be a while.”
“I’ll be fine.” Her voice is bright and hollow. “I’ll just read or something.”
“Chelsea can show you to the library,” Logan offers.
“I’m sure I can find it myself.” There’s steel under the sugar now.
I almost smile.
They scatter, Logan trailing Donovan like a puppy, Chelsea and Kai heading toward the east wing. Samantha stands alone in the dining room with her shoulders straight despite being abandoned on her first night here.
“Samantha.” I stop at the doorway.
She turns, those sharp eyes locking on mine.
“Welcome to the family.” I let the words carry weight.
The meeting in my room starts fifteen minutes later.
I pour myself two fingers of whiskey and settle behind my desk, pulling up the Denver acquisition files on my screen.
“Let’s make this quick,” I say. “We need to finalize the offer before their board meets on Thursday.”
Logan drops into the chair across from me, looking bored. Donovan takes the seat beside him with his tablet open.
“I was thinking,” Logan starts, “we could leverage the Denver acquisition to expand into the tech sector. Maybe look at some startups in Silicon Valley.”
Donovan looks up from his tablet. “We’re acquiring Denver Tech Solutions for their existing client base and infrastructure, not for expansion opportunities. The market analysis you clearly didn’t read shows tech startups are overvalued right now.”
“I read it,” Logan lies. “I just think—”
“You think we should dump capital into a saturated market during a downturn.” Donovan finally looks at him. “Based on what research?”
Logan’s face goes red. “I just meant—”
“You meant you skimmed the executive summary and missed the part where three major venture capital firms pulled out of tech investments last quarter.” Donovan taps his screen. “Page forty-seven. Did you get that far?”
Silence.
“The Denver acquisition is about consolidating our position in existing markets,” I say, saving Logan from further embarrassment. “Not chasing trends. Next topic.”
Logan slumps in his chair, and I can see him mentally checking out of the conversation.
By the time I dismiss them thirty minutes later, Logan practically runs for the door.
“That went well,” Donovan says, closing his tablet.
“He’s pathetic.” I pour two fingers of whiskey. “I don’t know where I went wrong with that one.”
“You were building an empire when he needed attention.” Donovan accepts the glass I offer. “At least Kai turned out interesting.”
“Kai turned out reckless.”
“Fair point. What do you think of the girlfriend?”
“Smart. Observant. Hiding something.” I swirl my drink. “The background check came in decent. Deceased mother and a stepfather she keeps in touch with regularly. But something doesn’t add up.”
“Exactly.” Donovan’s smile is sharp. “She’s not after money. If she was, she’d be pushing marriage already. Logan’s mentioned her three times in ten months. No social media posts together. No pictures in his place.”
“She’s a ghost in his life.”
“Which means she doesn’t want to be in his life.” Donovan finishes his whiskey. “She wants access to something else.”
“Then let’s see what she does with it.”
Donovan leaves around midnight. I work through emails for another hour, then head to my private wing. It’s separate from the guest quarters, connected by a hallway most people don’t know exists.
Music drifts from one of the rooms. Low and rhythmic.
I push open the door without knocking.
Dimly lit. Fire crackling. Kai has a woman pressed against the wall, her red dress bunched around her thighs. Donovan’s behind her, hand tangled in her dark hair, mouth on her neck while she gasps.
They all look up when I enter.
“Started without me,” I say, loosening my tie.
Kai grins, shameless. “Figured you’d show up eventually.”
“I was in my office.”
“Where you live,” Donovan adds.
The woman between them is Veronica. Resort staff. She’s been amenable to our arrangement for over a year now. Beautiful, discreet, interested only in pleasure with no strings attached.
Perfect for nights like this.
“Hi, Grant.” She’s breathless, flushed. “Took you long enough.”
“Had business.” I cross the room, unbuttoning my shirt. “You started without me. That’s rude.”
“We were just warming up,” Kai murmurs against her shoulder.
I reach them, running my hand along her jaw before tilting her face up. Her lips are swollen from kissing my sons. I take my time, slow and deep, feeling her melt into it.
Kai’s hand slips under my open shirt. Donovan’s breath is hot against my neck.
This is familiar territory. Easy. The three of us have shared women for years. Always someone who understands the arrangement and wants nothing beyond what we offer.