Chapter 16 - Daisy
N othing like new friends and some peppermint schnapps…
“What is it, Daisy?”
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I realize Anders has been watching me while I’ve been having a little pity party for myself during the drive into the city. “You’ve never been married, have you?”
“No,” he says, chuckling. “Is he as difficult a husband as he is a boss?”
That catches my attention. “I didn’t realize he was a difficult boss.”
“Never mind. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No! No, it’s alright. You’re entitled to your feelings.” I didn’t mean to shut Anders down. He’s been very kind to me. “I’m sorry he’s a difficult boss sometimes. And, I promise not to say anything if you don’t want me to.”
“Yeah, that would be best.” He winks in the rearview and I give a hesitant nod. “So, what’s eating Daisy today?”
“He’s just from a very different background than me, you know? I mean, I guess it’s obvious I didn’t grow up like him.”
“No, you’re not like them. Mr. Barclay and his family are polar opposites from you and me.”
“I didn’t realize you knew any of his family. You said your brother used to drive for-”
“No, I don’t know any of them except what he told me.” But, his eyes cut away from the mirror to pay attention to the road and he doesn’t elaborate about the other Barclays any further.
“Are you sorry he’s spending more time around the estate?” he asks next.
My palms are growing sweaty. Why did I start this conversation with Anders? “That’s not it. I actually like it when he’s home but he’s not home most of the time and I’m… I guess I’m lonely.”
Lonely when Grant isn’t there. That was the last thing I intended to happen after my humiliation on our wedding night but I’ve come to crave the time spent with him. What’s the matter with me?
When I look up again, Anders is giving me the strangest look. “A lovely girl like you never has to be lonely if she doesn’t want to be. I’m here with a strong shoulder to lean on if you need it.”
Welp, this is awkward. I know he means to be friendly but that almost sounded like a pass being made. Luckily, we’ve arrived at our destination before it’s necessary to make things even more awkward by addressing that.
I’m early for Efrem, my style expert whose spa is conveniently next door to the boutique where I’m to meet Callie and Tabitha. I hope this doesn’t take long but, the second I set foot inside the spa, I know that’s a faint hope. Everywhere I turn, people are getting primped and preened to look like they’ve just stepped out of a magazine’s pages. If only magic wands were real.
I’ve never met anyone named Efrem nor have I met anyone quite like Efrem. Tall and skinny as a rail with deep olive skin and intricately braided white hair, he’s dressed for the Paris runway of one of the more eccentric designers. I love his use of color and patterns. I’m just not sure I could ever pull anything like it off.
“Don’t be ridiculous, darling. If I can pull this off, so can you. That hair, those lips. Gorgeous. Rapunzel, Rapunzel…”
“Goldilocks,” I correct but he’s too busy looking me up and down to listen.
“The overalls are a bold choice, a wild bohemian but there’s so much potential.” Lots of potential for him to spend a good deal of my husband’s money, I think. I wonder if Grant will be going back over these expenses with me, item by item.
Thirty minutes later, Efrem is giving my hair an emergency hot oil treatment when my shopping companions find me. “So, this is where you are. Who’s this?” Callie asks.
“Callie, this is-”
“The man who’s wondering how much you paid for those cheekbones. They are to die for.”
“Grant hired a stylist.”
“Efrem Lorraine, fashion consultant and beauty guru,” he adds, handing Callie his card.
“Uh-huh,” she says, unimpressed. “Well, these cheekbones came from my mama and the natural beauty in your chair is supposed to be shopping with us next door.”
“Give me fifteen minutes to blow her and she’s all yours.”
“Excuse me?”
“Her hair, darling. Can’t let Rapunzel go like this, can I?”
Not Rapunzel. Goldilocks, I think but I’m too busy giggling over Callie’s frown to say it.
∞∞∞
Several hours later, clothes have been purchased – so many expensive, designer clothes I can’t keep track – along with two beautiful ball gowns. Efrem is satisfied that he’s done all he can for a woman who wears overalls to the fanciest boutique around with dried paint under her chipped nails. He’s already arranged a full spa experience for me on the morning of the ball, too.
Finally free, I sit down to a lunch so late it’s practically dinner with my two new friends. Both of them work in tech and they’ve never slept in tents in city parks but we’re getting along fabulously all the same.
Beautiful and brilliant, Callie has smiling hazel eyes and flawless brown skin. She’s a real genius from everything I’ve heard and the mother of a sweet little boy. She’s also recently fallen for the brother of her son’s biological father. (Hey, love can be complicated.) There’s already talk that she’ll be marrying the hockey team owner before too long and he’s asking to adopt her son as well.
Tabitha has lovely tanned skin, dark red hair, an endless love of good muffins and a mischievous sense of humor. She’s married to Dean Culver, one of the billionaire partners of the company. He’s part of one of the oldest and wealthiest families in the Bay Area and Tabitha’s most humble and devoted servant. “He is not.”
“He is, too,” Callie counters, goodnaturedly.
“As if Ezra’s not been head over heels in love with you for how many years now?”
Callie laughs and I try to laugh along. To be loved like that by a man… I’m not sure it’s in the cards for us Potter ladies. I’ve never sought that because I never wanted to be disappointed in love like my family. Grant’s well-intentioned kindness and respect of boundaries is the best treatment I’ve ever known so I won’t complain.
We’ve shared some laughter over Grant’s Well-Dressed Man confusion since it seems Hadley and the CEO’s wife, Grace, told the tale. I managed to pass the purchase off as a joke gift to make my husband crazy with jealousy when he’s inconveniently out of town. They don’t have to know he doesn’t care enough to do anything about his jealousy when he’s back home again.
“Ooh, what’s a Jingle Jam Mudslide? It’s got peppermint schnapps in it,” I say, my eyes dancing over the seasonal menu of specialty dessert beverages.
Tabitha smiles and orders one for each of us. “My treat.”
I bite down on my lip before I can grow sad over the memory of us Potter ladies enjoying our pumpkin spice lattes together. It’s been a long time since I spent more time making friends than simply surviving.
Tabitha talks about an upcoming surfing adventure to Fiji they’re planning and I think my eyes boggle. I’ve only dreamt of visiting places like that. “I promise I didn’t grow up like Dean did,” Tabitha explains when she catches my stare. “Not remotely.”
“Ezra and I didn’t either,” Callie chimes in. “Dean’s always been down to earth but the Culvers are… Well, they’re the Culvers just like Grant’s family. Though I guess you know more about them than I do.”
You’d guess wrong.
“Did you know Grant and Dean attended boarding school together, Daisy?”
We still have much to learn about each other but I nod, pleased we’d worked around to that topic during one of our morning walks. “Yes, Grant says his second cousin went there as well.”
“Right. Dean mentioned him,” Tabitha says with a small frown. “So… tell us more about you and Grant, Daisy.” There’s something about a woman’s tone of voice when she’s fishing for intel that’s delightfully amusing.
“What do you want to know?”
“What Tabitha means is, what the hell, girl? How’d that happen? He acted like he’d never met you before the day I found him covered in coffee on the elevator and then he tells us he’s married you. Of course, we’re very happy for you… if you’re happy.” Callie is not one for beating around the bush and I admire that. I’ll bet she wouldn’t have smiled blithely at the attic-like art studio with dungeon lighting.
“He… well, he…”
He wanted a maid, then decided he needed a wife more.
But, I can’t say that.
“After that coffee encounter, we met out on the sidewalk and I sort of lost my temper with him and tried to knee him in the balls.” Tabitha chokes on her drink as Callie whacks her back. Both of them are laughing as I carry on. “Anyway, we worked through that and then we saw more of each other and here we are.”
It’s so vague and I regret not being more open yet they don’t seem to mind. They’re smiling at me and curious about other aspects of Grant. “So, what’s he like when he lets his guard down? Is he ever silly?”
“Yeah, does he ever smile when he’s at home?”
“Is he romantic?Passionate?”
“Is he as buttoned-up in bed as he is at the office or is there a wild man under that oxford shirt?”
Grant, silly? I can’t picture it at all. But, I have caught him smiling more than I thought possible this past week and I can sense the passion in him. ‘ Please go upstairs before I forget everything I ever knew about being a gentleman.’ If only he wasn’t so intent on being gentlemanly with me.
“He… surprises me. I like that about him,” I admit, surprising myself because I mean it. I may not love all of Grant’s surprises but I love that he’ll try. And, I’d definitely love to convince him to change one aspect of our arrangement.
“Oh, I think there might be a wild man under that oxford shirt and I think our newlywed is ready to go home to her husband, Callie,” Tabitha says with a knowing smile.
Blushing, I nod and admit that I am.
∞∞∞
It was a silent ride back to the estate. Anders was mad at me for ducking out on him to visit Mimi after my meal but my grandmother needs me. Plus, I felt drowsy from the Jingle Jam Mudslides and decided to nap.
I need to talk to Grant about Mimi, maybe on our next walk. Despite his tight-fisted reputation, he’s shown himself to be far more generous than expected. Maybe he wouldn’t object to helping me find a more suitable retirement home for her without me having to lie about some silly shopping spree.
Mrs. Keating tells me he’s home much sooner than expected, and I go looking for him in his study… which is when I run into Old Vinegar Fish rooting around the drawers of the desk. “Are you looking for something, Mr. Radcliffe?”
He shoots up to his full height and levels me with a look of intense dislike before his resting sour-puss face returns. “I am looking for the key to the silver cabinet, ma’am.”
“Oh, I wasn’t aware there was a silver cabinet.”
“Yes,” he says slowly in a tone that suggests he believes that’s for the best. “But, here it is,” he says, pocketing a key he was already holding before giving me a crisp bow and leaving the room.
I fear I’ve offended him somehow. He certainly seems offended by my presence every time we interact.
Walking around the desk, I find the bottom drawer still standing wide open. I start to close it when something catches my eye, a sealed envelope with carefully scrawled letters that form Grant’s name. Picking it up, I wander upstairs in search of my husband. I’m surprised to find him in my bedroom searching through the huge walk-in closet for something. He’s still dressed in his business suit.
“I found this in your study.” He scowls and I realize how that sounded, as if I was purposely snooping. “Sorry, Radcliffe was in there looking for a key and I spotted it. I thought it might be your grandfather’s handwriting.”
He takes the envelope from me, a mixture of grief and frustration in his eyes as he studies it. “Yes, it is. Thank you. Did you enjoy shopping?” he asks, distractedly. “Was the stylist polite?”
“Yes, Efrem was… thorough. And, I thoroughly enjoyed Tabitha and Callie’s company.” I stifle a hiccup and one of Grant’s dark eyebrows raises in query. “We had some drinks with our meal. Do you wish to see what I bought?”
“Perhaps another time. Are you tipsy?” I shake my head and then start giggling for some reason. He scowls again. “I need to return to the city tonight.”
“But… you came all the way home and now you’re going back?”
“Yes, I don’t know what I was thinking. I have an early meeting tomorrow and you’ve already eaten dinner.”
Did he come home early to have dinner with me? “I could eat again.”
“It’s already getting late.”
With a lingering glance but no further explanation, he turns on his heel with the letter clutched in his hand. What has gotten into him? I suppose if I was suddenly handed a letter from Mom I’d be beside myself with emotions. And, why was he in here apparently hunting for something?
I follow him downstairs and outside where Anders waits. “I’ll drive myself in the Aston Martin again. You’re dismissed for the day,” he clips. Is he going to dismiss me as coldly?
“Grant…”
He stops just before climbing into the sporty car, tucking the envelope into his coat pocket. A smile, half-amused and half-exasperated, appears. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, Goldilocks. Drink some water and eat a bite to soak up the alcohol.”
“I’m not drunk.”
“Then, paint me a picture of Daffy or make us some new flash cards to fill out together until then, alright?”
His instructions as he softly strokes my braid again has my heart fluttering wildly so I give him a nod, echoing his words. “Tomorrow night.”
I watch the car disappear down the long drive with that same achy feeling as earlier, knowing he’d never dream of looking back at me as he goes.
I’ve just returned inside when I hear Anders speaking to Mr. Radcliffe. “Look, he asked and I answered. I didn’t know he was going to leave again. He doesn’t clear his schedule with me, no more than he does with you.”
“Well, this is all very unusual.”
“The only thing that’s unusual is the man sleeping in a spare bed when he’s got his pretty wife warming his… unless he’s got a side piece in the city already.”
Mr. Radcliffe’s fussy outrage over Anders’ indelicate suggestion covers my gasp of shock before the driver walks off. I can’t believe Anders would say that and I’m a bit mortified they’re aware we’re not sharing a bed.
But worst of all is the excruciating thought of Grant doing what the driver suggests.
Still hiding in the entryway, I wait until I hear Mr. Radcliffe’s slower strides carrying him away before I race up the stairs, closing the door with a bang.
He told me no men, said faithfulness was the one condition he would insist upon, even made a thing over the damn vibrator, but he never explicitly promised me fidelity in return. Feeling thoroughly sick with jealousy, I pour a glass of amber liquor from the well-stocked bar and sit down on the edge of the bed he refuses to share with me, dreaming up plots to make him sorry if what Anders suggested is true.