Chapter 17
seventeen
Even with a cup of coffee in my hand, I feel every minute of the previous night’s sleep deprivation. After a huge fight with Abuelita about her hiding my father’s request for money from me, I proceeded to eat a bagel for dinner and work until two a.m. finishing Dominic’s assignments.
My cousin looks at me askance as we barrel into the darkness of the Queens tunnel. “You okay?”
Great, I look as shitty as I feel .
I already know that, though. My emerald blouse and black skirt are as basic as my limp ponytail. At least I remembered to put some earrings and makeup on.
“I’m fine,” I grouse, taking two big gulps from my coffee. “Just a bad week.”
Marco keeps his expression blank. “Saw you on Mr. Stryker’s schedule yesterday. How did that go?”
Ironically, my dreaded meeting with the CEO turned out to be the one boon in my otherwise bleak day. He asked me to draft a prenuptial document for Ella—one that will guarantee, under any or all circumstances, that she stands to inherit every penny of the Stryker estate upon his demise.
He also wants the arrangement to dictate entirely equal terms in the event of a divorce, virtually handing over half of his net worth to his fiancée upon the end of their marriage.
It was hard to endure the meeting without gawking at him.
What he requested is highly unusual. Bordering on crazy. And a definite “fuck you” to Dominic’s suggestion that our CEO draft a prenup to protect his wealth.
Normally, spouses who separate only split whatever they acquired during the marriage. But he wants her to have half of everything he owns if she ever leaves him.
He even used those exact words— if she ever leaves me . Because he cannot fathom any scenario where he would leave her.
It was about as romantic as a contract meeting could get.
The thought of Graham’s mouth on mine drifts through my brain.
Well, almost as romantic as a contract meeting can get .
“Attorney-client privilege,” I mumble.
Marco shoots me a grin. “So, he’s putting you to work, then? I’m glad. That Dominic guy is a prick.”
I bite my lower lip to stifle a giggle. I didn’t have the balls to ask my boss why he wanted me to do his prenup instead of the head of my department, but I got the sense he doesn’t like Dominic any more than I do.
Marco’s phone rings as we speed out of the tunnel. He answers with his last name. “Amir.”
“Yes, sir,” Marco says a moment later, glancing at me. “The only thing is—Grayson, I have Juliet in the car with me. Yes. Are you certain? Okay, twenty-five minutes.”
He hangs up with an apologetic look. “Looks like you’ll be late. Grayson needs me to swing up to the East Side and get him right away. He told me to tell you to text Dominic and let him know you’ll be in by nine-thirty, per his orders.”
My stomach knots at the thought. “Just drop me off. I’ll take a cab the rest of the way.”
Marco rolls his eyes. “And have it look like you’re avoiding Grayson?”
Maldición . He’s right. I send the damn text and hide my phone in my bag so I won’t have to read Dominic’s reply.
He’ll hit the roof. I’ll be lucky if there isn’t a huge stack of folders on my desk when I get in.
I recognize the address for Stryker’s building from the closing contracts I reviewed. The place is, of course, even grander in person. I only have a moment to take in the ultra-modern architecture before a small blonde bounces toward the car.
Ella .
She appears at my window and I roll it down, already smiling at the glee on her face. “Jules!” she chirps. “Gray told me you were in the car, so I popped down with him.”
Behind her, Ella’s fiancé offers her an indulgent smile. “She’s supposed to be getting dressed,” he tells me, then turns back to her. “You know Marco is just dropping me off and coming right back for you?”
Ella pulls a face. “I know, I know,” she grumbles. Then, to me, “Grayson is forcing me to go shopping. I suspect Marco is coming to make sure I actually meet the personal shopper and not for security purposes.”
Mr. Stryker glowers at her, but speaks to me the same way she did. “It’s her birthday in February, and I’m taking her to Aruba for a week. She needs swimsuits and resort wear, but every time I try to take her to a store, you’d think I was torturing her.” He shakes his head, exasperated. “I’m bringing in professionals.”
Ella casts me a knowing look. “He has trouble being firm with me,” she translates, “so he’s making Marco do it.”
Grayson seems like a different man around her. His posture loosens, and his smiles come easier. I’m surprised when he wraps his arm around Ella’s waist and pulls her into his side, bending to drop a kiss on her neck without even a twinge of hesitation. He whispers something in her ear and then steps away, flashing a smile that makes me blush.
That poor girl never stood a chance.
Dominic doesn’t storm out of his office to berate me for being late. He doesn’t hover over my shoulder and not so subtly stare down my shirt. I drop my finished research and notes off in his inbox and leave his office without earning so much as a glance.
He wants to ignore me? Sounds like a vacation .
And it is. I work in peace all morning, plodding through Graham’s revisions and beginning my final review of Mr. Stryker’s new townhome purchase.
He asked for the prenup before the end of the month. Now, I suspect he wants it behind them before their vacation. The thought brings a small smile to my lips as I save the finalized real estate agreement to our portal.
“Huh,” a deep, rich voice intones behind me. “That might be the first time I’ve ever seen you smile without it being at my expense.”
Graham .
When did I stop thinking of him as Mr. Everett?
Probably somewhere around his hand up my skirt.
He appears beside my desk, wearing his boyish grin… and the most ludicrous suit ever conceived.
“ Dios mío, pinchao ,” I startle. “Is that velvet ?”
Graham’s smile heats. He leans closer. “You shouldn’t speak Spanish to me here, Miss Rivera. ” The rumble in his tone raises goosebumps on my skin. “It distracts me.”
I refuse to give him the satisfaction of sounding as breathless as I feel. “A velvet suit,” I continue, ignoring his flirt. “In red .”
Graham inspects his arms, tugging at the black shirtsleeves underneath. The slim-fit jacket has wide, slanted lapels trimmed with matching onyx piping. His silk vest mixes the black and claret colors into a swirling paisley pattern, blending seamlessly with his tie.
“It’s more of a burgundy, actually,” he comments, then points to the square in his jacket pocket. “Aside from this, of course.”
The red handkerchief .
I see his point. Bright crimson doesn’t match his outfit at all, but, then, it hasn’t matched any of the others, either. Clearly, Graham Everett makes his own rules.
As evidenced by his black velvet footwear.
I laugh before I can help it. “Oh no, the shoes !”
Graham’s eyes flit over my features while I giggle. Finally, he drops his gaze to his feet and gives one of his signature shrugs. “How else is a guy supposed to get away with slippers at work?”
The fine layer of stubble around his sculpted mouth outlines the bright white flash of his teeth. He truly is handsome, especially when he smiles.
I shake my head and gather my meeting materials. “Honestly, what possesses a person to go to their closet and decide on a burgundy velvet suit ?”
Graham steps back as I stand. A slight wince mars his brow. “Sometimes, you choose a confident outfit because you feel confident; sometimes, you choose one because you need to feel confident.”
I might smirk at him if he didn’t sound so sincere. Part of me wants to ask why he needs extra confidence, but the larger part can’t admit that I care. Instead, I hold up my lunchbox and wave it like a taunt.
“You’ll be begging me for lunch today, pinchao . Abuelita made it.”
Graham slips his hands into his pockets while we walk toward the meeting pods. “Your grandmother again?”
I nod, holding my head high. “I live with her in Queens. She’s a fantastic cook on a good day, but even better when she’s angry. We had a fight last night and this lunch is her passive-aggressive way of making me feel bad. So it’s bound to be amazing .”
He snorts, amusement lighting his midnight eyes. “Your grandmother revenge-cooks?”
I don’t like the intent, teasing way he regards me. My stomach does a silly somersault. “That amuses you?”
Graham holds the door to Pod A open for me. “Only because it seems like something you would do.”
“Me?” I narrow my gaze at him as I round the table and take a seat facing the glass wall and door. So I’ll be reminded that we aren’t alone every time I look across the table.
“Yes.” He gracefully slouches into his seat. “Convincing someone they were wrong by blowing them away with your talent seems exactly like something you would do, bijou .” He holds up the final draft of our contract. “Exhibit A.”
I sniff as regally as I can. “Well, thank God for me, then. At least now we can finalize the arrangement, and we won’t have to keep meeting like this.”
Graham doesn’t buy my ice-queen act for a second. “That bad, am I?” he drawls. “Weird. I could’ve sworn I felt you press those gorgeous thighs together under the table just now.”
His dark gaze sharpens on mine. “No reason to pretend, remember, bijou ? Just like I won’t pretend I haven’t been hard since you laughed a few minutes ago.”
How does he turn me on so quickly ? Just a few words, a slight curl of his lips. I have to force myself not to shift in my seat.
I glare at him instead. “Focus, pinchao . We have to finish this today.”
He straightens his shoulders, snapping back to business. Dark eyes drift over my shoulder to the spectacular view of Midtown. “Agreed. I’ve suddenly found myself with a lot more on my plate than I had previously. I can’t keep running up here every afternoon. Let’s get this over with.”
He doesn’t mean it as an insult, but it still stings me. Very deliberately, I fold my hands over the papers and make no move to read them. When I open my mouth, black fire crackles in his eyes.
“ Do not say ‘make me,’” he warns. “Or I will fuck you on this table in full view of the entire office and actually get both of us fired.”