Chapter 10 #2
“Understood,” he replies with the kind of amused grin that tells me it’s no skin off his back if I don’t have sex with him. He’s Grady Brooks, he’s obviously not short on options.
“So, why dinner? We could sit and chat now, and I could have a proposal for you by the end of the day.”
He shrugs. “Everyone’s gotta eat, right? Besides, I’m a good cook. Before I made it big, I was a sous-chef in Manhattan, at Le Bernardin.”
“Impressive,” I say, despite myself.
“See, there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Jenna. I’m aware that the media makes me out to be this complete asshole, but that’s just branding. It’s the image my publicists decided on a decade ago, to differentiate me from your friend, Dex. It’s all Hollywood bullshit.”
I raise a skeptical eyebrow again.
“Give me one chance to make a better first impression than I did in LA,” he says. “Consider this my way of making amends. I’ll make your favorite dinner. And hey, who knows, maybe we’ll end up being friends.”
“You want to be friends with me?” I cross my arms, unconvinced.
He shrugs. “I mean, you’re friends with Dex…so, why not me? I’ll be here awhile, filming a new HBO series, and I barely know anyone in Chicago.”
I nod. “I can sorta relate.”
“Alright, then it’s settled,” Grady says, running a hand through his jet-black hair. “What do you want me to cook for you?”
I bite my lip. Grady’s already a step ahead, while I’m still deciding if I want to take him up on his offer. He assumes he’ll get his way…and I’m sure he does, most of the time. He’s so damn good-looking, and boy does he know it. Ugh.
There’s no such thing as quiet confidence where Grady Brooks is concerned.
But if I judge him by his appearance, I’m no better than the strangers I meet who automatically peg me as an airhead. Just because he oozes charm and swagger from every pore on his perfect, built-like-a-linebacker body doesn’t mean I shouldn’t give him a second chance.
Besides, it doesn’t make a huge difference whether I stay here to work with him now, or come back to ask my questions over dinner later.
Either way, it’s work—not a date. Plus, I do believe he’s changed.
Grady was definitely drunk the night I met him at that party.
But he’s been sober a year, and I don’t want to brush off the progress he’s made.
And a gourmet meal prepared by a former sous-chef at one of the best restaurants in the world? That’s pretty hard to say no to. I went to Le Bernardin once, to celebrate Christy and Kyle’s college graduation. It was one of the best meals of my life.
“I love seafood,” I tell him. “I’ll have whatever your specialty is. Surprise me.”
“Done,” he says with a wink.
I’m feeling pretty good about my decision until I walk through the door to my apartment, and see the photo and note from Charlie sitting on my front hall table.
I’d much rather be having dinner with him tonight. Talk about quiet confidence. The fact that Charlie is as gorgeous as any movie star, but doesn’t flaunt it, makes him infinitely sexier than Grady Brooks.
Maybe I should call Grady and tell him I’ll meet him in the morning.
Damnit. Here I go again.
It’s so incredibly hard for me to trust men. After Alex taking that nude picture of me in grad school, and Scott going back and forth about wanting kids, and nearly every guy I meet only wanting me for one damn thing, I can’t help but question most men’s intentions.
But I need to get out of my own way. Doing design work for Grady could change my entire career.
The buzz I’ve gotten from Lola Piper’s tweet has been great—but I’m squandering a lot of opportunities if I don’t pick up new clients from it.
Especially A-list celebrity clients. I planned to offer my design services to Sunny and Dex as a wedding gift, until I found out Dex’s cousin’s wife is also an interior designer, and she beat me to it.
Now she’s the most sought-after designer in Ohio.
No designer in their right mind would waste an opportunity like this.
If I give up this chance with Grady, I might as well give up my design business.
And as much as I’m questioning my career path these days, I’m still not convinced I want to jump ship just to paint.
It would be a terrible waste of my master’s degree.
Wouldn’t it?
At the very least, I should follow through with this dinner before I make any life-altering career decisions.
It probably wouldn’t hurt to call Dex first and ask what he thinks of Grady, though. Just in case.
Unfortunately, my call goes straight to voicemail, so I leave Dex a message saying I have a question for him. Then I call Sunny, but I get her voicemail, too. They must be traveling. I know Dex has some speaking engagements scheduled these next few months, before the baby’s born.
I go about the rest of my day, running errands around the city. But the hours pass, and I’m back home and getting ready to leave for Grady’s, and I still haven’t heard from either Sunny or Dex. I try Dex’s cell one more time before I go, but no luck.
It’s not until the elevator doors open to Grady’s penthouse, and I’m standing face-to-face with him, that my phone vibrates in my hand.
I glance down at the screen and see Dex’s name, of course.
But I can’t very well answer it now. So I toss the phone into my purse instead.