Chapter 29
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Chase
The steakhouse is a chill spot. Big, wooden barrels line the walls, and upside-down mason jars repurposed as light fixtures hang from above, offering a warm light.
It’s the kind of place my mom would have picked on a family night out, if only a little more expensive than she would have been willing to pay for.
Of course, Grant secured the best seat in the house, a table separated from all the others, up close and personal in the center curve of the large window.
Outside it is a massive garden lit up by soft lanterns, creating what I would consider a more romantic backdrop, but looking around, I’m seeing more business-style dinner parties than date nights, so what the hell do I know?
Paige laughs from her seat beside me, and my eyes are drawn her way.
She’s telling him the story she shared with me last night, about the Christmas performance she helped coordinate this past week after the parents who signed up bailed at the last minute.
“I almost slipped during a turn, but I caught myself. The whole routine went off perfectly after that, though.” Her smile is easy, her laughter light as she recounts the moment.
Her grandfather chuckles, leaning back in his chair, his voice deep and steady. “Well, that’s a good save. But you have to admit, that’s the kind of thing you make look easy, Paige.”
I smile at them both, watching Paige. “I saw the video. You were the cutest Nutcracker on that stage. If only you were the tallest,” I tease.
“Hey!” She bats my arms, and I catch her by the wrist, kissing her knuckles briefly.
“Smooth, Mr. Harper.” She narrows her eyes, but there’s a playful spark in there.
“But also, who knew third graders could be so tall?” She laughs, picking up the last piece of bread on the platter just as our meals arrive.
We continue chatting, Grant sharing some stories about Paige’s mom when she was little, and judging by the softness that falls over her expression, it’s the first she’s heard them.
Discreetly, I reach under the table and give her thigh a little squeeze.
Her hand promptly covers mine, repeating the sentiment.
We’ve just declined dessert when Paige excuses herself to the restroom, and Grant turns to look at me.
“You’re a hard man to get ahold of.”
“I didn’t know you were trying, sir.” I chuckle.
“Chase,” he says, his voice low but clear, “we need to talk.”
I blink, caught off guard by the abrupt change in tone. “Okay. Let’s talk.”
His gaze doesn’t leave mine as he shifts in his seat, his body now angled toward my own. “I know about your situation.”
My stomach tightens, and I take a breath, trying not to let the sudden shift rattle me. “My situation?”
He doesn’t immediately respond, just watches me, waiting.
For a split moment, I wonder if Paige told him about my diagnosis, but the thought disappears as fast as it comes.
She would never.
But there’s something in his expression, something that now that I’m staring at it, trying to decipher, I wonder if I’ve seen it before—careful calculation.
It’s like he’s weighing every word. I don’t know why, but my pulse picks up, a subtle tension settling in the back of my neck and it has nothing to do with aftereffects of my injury.
Those have passed now.
“The position that you’re in,” he finally says, his voice softening just a little.
I shift in my seat, my body stiffening despite myself. “It’s not exactly something I could keep secret. It was televised, after all.” I go the easy route.
Everyone knows I didn’t finish the season out strong.
He looks at me for a long moment, then sighs, almost like he’s acknowledging something unspoken. “Ah, yes. The game. Sorry about that, son. Truly.”
I’m not sure if he means the apology or if he’s just acknowledging the mess of my life as something that can’t be easily fixed. I don’t respond right away. I don’t know how to, and honestly, I’m pretty fucking confused right now.
But he presses on, lowering his voice more. “I wasn’t talking about your football career. I was talking about the fact that my granddaughter is planning your last semester of college, and yet…” He holds my gaze. “You’re not even registered.”
I stiffen, the lie rolling off my tongue too quickly: “I’m just late deciding what to take.” My voice is guarded, but it doesn’t quite cover the tightness in my chest. I feel the weight of his words like a slow pressure on my ribs.
He can’t possibly know…
He watches me closely, his gaze sharp. “I know what your mother did to you, the tough spot she put you in.”
I can feel the anger rising in my throat. “Are you looking into my finances?” My eyes snap in the direction Paige disappeared and back.
Grant’s lips curl up into a firm smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re close to Paige. I’m afraid it comes with the territory.”
I clench my jaw. I don’t like this conversation, and something tells me I should cut it off here, but there is a look in this man’s eyes—a challenge—that I’m not understanding, that keeps me in my seat.
He leans back in his chair. “I have an offer for you.”
“I didn’t come here for an offer.”
“You will be leaving with one.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small envelope, placing it on the table between us.
My eyes flick from the envelope to him, unsure of what to make of it, so I wait, my pulse hammering in my neck.
“I know you’ve been struggling,” he continues, voice steady. “And I’m here to offer my help.”
“I don’t need your help. I’m handling things—”
“Selling your truck isn’t going to get you far,” he says, cutting me off, and my brows jump.
“Are you following me?” I hiss, leaning over the table. “How could you possibly know that? No one knows that!”
“In this envelope is your way out.” He speaks as if I hadn’t said a word. “Your chance to finish school and leave this town with something after years of dedication. It’s a future for yourself, son. Right here.” He taps the envelope, pushing it even closer.
I tear my arms from the table, shoving them in my lap. “What’s all this about? What am I missing here? Because you didn’t invite your granddaughter’s boyfriend to dinner to solve his problems.”
“Unfortunately, you’re correct.” He nods once. “There is a catch.” His eyes hold mine, and for a moment, I wonder if I see a flash of concern within them. I must be mistaken though as with his next breath, his face goes blank.
“Inside this envelope is a check. It is the exact dollar amount, right down to the penny, to cover your final semester of school. Tuition, room and board, books, and a meal card. It’s made out to them and everything.
All you have to do is take it by the admissions office and drop it off, and it’s done.
But the moment that money leaves my account, the relationship you have with Paige ends too. ”
All the air leaves my lungs, and I shove my chair back, staring wide-eyed at the man. “Are you out of your fucking mind?” I hiss, then fly to my feet.
“Sit down, son.”
“Sit down,” I deadpan. “Sit down?!” I nearly shout. “You’re trying to buy your granddaughter from me. That is so beyond fucked up I don’t even know what to say to you right now.”
“Say nothing.” He watches me closely. “Take the money, Chase. Do this for yourself.”
“Jesus.” I shake my head, a humorless laugh leaving me.
I narrow my eyes on this… I can’t even call him a man right now.
Men don’t do this. Not to the ones they love.
But the longer I stare, the more I realize…
“You really think I’m going to go for this, don’t you?
You think I’d take what you’re offering and just walk away from the woman who has my entire fucking heart?
Well, let me be the one to tell you, you don’t know me, you delusional old man, and that girl, my girl, she’s not for fucking sale.
Not even for everything you’ve got, so with all due respect, sir, go fuck yourself.
” I tear away from the table, my entire being vibrating as—
“She’ll lose her studio for good if you walk away!”
My foot freezes midair, my head turning in what feels like slow motion. “What did you say?”
He holds my gaze, motioning to my chair.
I glare from him to the back, to where the bathrooms are. Where Paige has been for quite a long time now.
“She’s fine,” he assures me, and I don’t even think to ask how he would know.
I fucking sit, shaking with anger. I feel like the ground is shifting beneath me, the weight of his words sinking in. I don’t know how to process this, how to respond. My mind is racing.
“What do you mean, she’ll lose her studio? Why would that happen?”
True confusion crosses his features, and his head tips. “You didn’t know?”
“Know what?”
“I assumed you did,” he says, almost more to himself. “The repairs, Chase. After the flood, she’s had no choice but to let it sit.”
“But she goes there all the time…”
“She couldn’t afford insurance, so she goes to fix what she can, but it takes money to truly fix problems, doesn’t it?”
My face falls, my thoughts spinning, nausea working its way up my throat.
Why didn’t she tell me?
The same reason you didn’t tell her.
My head snaps up, eyes narrowing. “You’re rich. You can help her. Why haven’t you helped her? Why leave that stress, that…that pain on her? Do you even know what that place means to her? Do you even fucking care?!”
His features tighten, and he looks away, but only for a beat, He comes back just as calm and unbothered as before. “I will help her, Chase. I have planned to all along. She knows this, but first I need her to sign a contract.”
“What contract?” What the hell is he holding over her?