Chapter 40 – Daisy
L ove is the name of the game.
Hadley greets me as soon as I step off the elevator. “Hello, Mrs. Barclay. Lovely dress. Your husband brought bagels this morning if you want one. He’s in a meeting but he insisted I inform him of your arrival right away.”
I tell her there’s no rush but she hurries down the hall anyway and I take a seat after speaking a word of hello to Dean and Samuel’s assistants. Grace must be in her husband’s office.
I’m not hungry for bagels but I smile at the bakery box all the same. There’s still a cinnamon raisin one. Those were my favorites and, thanks to our flash cards, I know they’re Grant’s favorites, too.
I’ve just gotten settled as I hear a familiar sound, a cleaning cart rattling down the corridor. A young woman with long maroon braids hanging down her back pushes it into view, saying hello to Toby and Myrtle and emptying their trash. I hope she likes it here. With Rusty gone, I imagine things are much more tolerable.
“Hi,” I say when she moves toward me. She glances around for a second as if she’s not sure the well-dressed woman is speaking to her. “I love your braids.”
The corners of her mouth tip upward. “Hey, yourself. And, thanks.”
“There’s some bagels here if you’re hungry.”
“I’m good…”
“Are you sure? It’s nearly lunchtime and no need for them to go to waste.”
I see her peer inside the box, her smile widening. “Thanks,” she says as she plucks out the cinnamon raisin one. “You have a nice day, ma’am.”
“Daisy. I’m Daisy. And, you have a good one, too.” I hope she does.
Just as she’s moved along, Grace steps out of her husband’s office, hurrying over for a hug. “I don’t hurry anywhere these days. I waddle.”
“You waddle beautifully and you’re absolutely glowing,” I assure my very pregnant friend. It’s late March and she’s due in early May.
“I don’t feel like I’m glowing. I feel like an overstuffed burrito about to explode,” Grace grumbles in a decidedly less-than-sunny, not-at-all-like-Grace manner.
“I’m trying to get her to stay home and off her feet,” her husband informs me as he joins us.
“Someone has to keep you in line around here,” she tartly replies, making him chuckle.
“Are you and Grant going to be able to make it to dinner this weekend?” he asks. All the partners and their wives are invited along with Callie and Ezra for one of Anthony’s well-loved, homemade Italian dinners. I’ll feel like a burrito ready to bust myself once we’re finished.
“Wouldn’t miss it as long as we can play Pictionary again.”
“Ooh, yes! We can team up against the men again, Daisy.”
“I think maybe it’s time we retired that game. We could play poker instead,” Anthony argues.
But, his wife’s not deterred and neither am I. I can’t believe I used to race for the door the second this man entered a room.
Speaking of bossy-boss husbands, I hear my own coming down the hall. “Alright, that’s all for now. I have plans away from the office this afternoon so just email me that cost projection.”
The CFO of Golden Gate Security Tech is still a busy man but he does a nice job balancing time in the office with working remotely from home. On the occasions that it’s more convenient for him to be in town overnight, I join him at the penthouse, both of us invading Mimi and Jewel’s happy nest. They don’t mind.
Powerful, serious and seriously gorgeous, Grant Barclay striding my way is a sight I’ll never tire of, whether he’s in one of his bespoke suits like now, dressed for a run or wearing nothing at all. He comes to a stop in front of me, instantly making me crave more than the chaste kiss he gives.
“You look lovely. Are you ready?” he asks, hugging me. His bergamot and birch scent surrounds me.
“Sure am. Brella’s waiting downstairs.”
Since recovering from his cold, Grant has returned to driving himself around. However, he’s hired a new driver for me, one I chose. Once upon a time, Brella had been a delivery driver before hard times had found her. She never guessed sharing her tent on cold nights with a girl in similar circumstances would lead to her becoming the personal driver of a billionaire’s trophy wife and happily living at Barclay Manor.
“You’re not my trophy wife. I’m your trophy husband.”
Yes, he did that, the maniac. He had his entire fortune placed in an account in my name back in February. I kept arguing it wasn’t necessary at all and he still did it.
“Just as long as you remember, I’m the artist, not the financial genius. You are solely responsible for making sure we don’t go bankrupt.”
“Consider me your personal accountant and sex toy, Mrs. Barclay.”
“My very favorite version of the Well Dressed Man,” I say, snickering as we climb into the Rolls.
As Brella drives us toward our first stop of this outing, the shelter, I know I have a confession I should make. “I received a letter today after you left for work.” My tone is enough to gain Grant’s attention away from discreetly running his fingers along my thigh. He raises his eyebrows and I dig out the note Anders sent. “He apologizes for the kiss and his part in things.”
Grant’s expression darkens though he doesn’t bother reading the letter. I can’t blame him. I secretly love his possessive side and the driver did cross far too many lines at New Year’s for a bit of money. I’m not so easily swayed to forgive himself either after the way his actions damaged our marriage for a time. And, no matter how much he claims he truly fell for me in the end, I’m certain he holds his wallet in higher esteem than me.
“He’s still in Kansas?”
I blink, knowing he’s not read a word on the page in front of him. “How did you know-”
“Because I wanted to make sure he stayed away from you. A twenty-six-hour drive will suffice since I can’t justify shooting him. Why are you smiling like that?”
“Because I love it when you’re all protective and growly over me.”
“Good. Don’t expect that to ever end.”
“I’ve told you about the letter so now there’s only one thing left to do with it.”
“What’s that?”
I show him by tearing it into tiny pieces.He likes that.
When we pull to a stop outside the shelter, I take a moment to admire how much nicer Shady Acre Retirement Home is looking since Mimi lived there. Tina is waiting out front for us and we’re sure to say hello to several of the folks waiting for lunch to be served. After all, they’re people, too. People we’d like to help if they’d like some.
“Everything should be in place on our end,” Grant says after a half hour in Tina’s office. “The construction will be completed in late April.”
I didn’t think I could possibly love Grant more until the day he shared with me the something important he wanted to discuss and he blasted his way right through that assumption in a heartbeat.
“This land, these gardens, it’s so much for us and a handful of servants. I don’t want a lonely maze that no one visits, Daisy. I want people to see it, children to enjoy it, and I don’t just mean ours someday. I want us to do some good while we’re here to do it. And, I want to do that with you.”
The Barclay Winery has sat idle for many years but the building was structurally sound. Hours of manpower and more money than I care to guess has been poured into transforming it into a home for young women who’ve been living on the streets and their children if they have them. It isn’t meant to be a permanent home. More of a stopping point along the road, a place to gather themselves in safety and comfort. But, we’re hoping it can change lives for the better.
“The girls are all excited.”
“And Evelyn?” Grant asks.
“Yes, she’s one of them,” Tina promises.
The young woman who followed along to help my husband find my sister months ago will be getting a fresh start at life after running away from home at seventeen. I haven’t said so to Grant but her name being somewhat similar to his mother’s, it seems fitting that she’ll be one of our first guests at the Barclay Winery Inn.
“Didn’t I tell you, you’re forbidden from crying today, Goldilocks?” he gently scolds me as we head back to the waiting car.
“I can’t help it. This will mean so much to so many, Grant. And, it’s not just the inn. All the other money donated-”
He kisses my fingers, cutting off my praise because he never wants it. “Yes, Yes, all the money. Dry those tears. This isn’t all I had planned for us this afternoon.”
∞∞∞
Two hours later, we’re heading home after a trip to the jewelry store and I’m admiring my new engagement ring. The large rock he’d originally purchased was stunning but it simply wasn’t me. “I like that it matches your eyes,” he murmurs, caressing my fingers.
“Sapphires symbolize fidelity among other things.”
He grins, kissing my cheek. “I already know I needn’t worry about that.”
“Grant, do you think I could go ahead and slip it on?”
“We already know it fits.”
“Yes, but… are you sure you’re okay with the ring I chose?”
“It pleases you, it pleases me, Daisy. I have two more surprises today that I hope will please you, too.”
“Two?! What are they?”
Stubbornly, he refuses to tell me even as I spend the entire ride home trying to get it out of him. Which leads to a bit of backseat play. Thankfully, we raised the divider first and Grant’s had a more soundproof one installed.
Once we’re home, he leads me through the house after greeting everyone and out the French doors that lead to the maze. We don’t go there though. We take a turn toward the dilapidated greenhouse I had discovered months ago. I’ve seen the construction workers going in and out of it but imagined it had to do with our project. I was mistaken.
It’s no longer a greenhouse with old planters and dingy, cracked windows at all. It’s a large open space with new floors, a repaired roof and sparkling windows to let in plenty of light. It’s climate controlled and there are an array of art supplies neatly stacked against the walls.
“Is this for me?” I ask, turning around to soak it all in.
“Yes, a studio for you. Of course, you may paint, draw or sketch wherever you please but I wanted to do this for you. It’s close to the house in case of foul weather and, if you look through that window there, I can watch you from my study,” he murmurs against the shell of my ear. “When cost projections and budget management gets too dull, I like the idea of watching my wife create.”
My heart thump-thumps with adoration for him. This place is absolutely perfect, full of light and everything at hand, a quiet place to pursue my passion. And, I love that he encourages me with my art every day.
“I’m afraid to ask what the other surprise is. This is already more than I could’ve hoped for.”
“Yes, well… It’s a rather straightforward matter. I was just waiting for the right ring.”
My breath grows short as he drops to one knee, holding up the box from the jewelry store. The small diamonds surrounding my sapphire sparkle in the sunlight while the center stone blazes with deep blue fire.
“I know we’re already married but I bullied you into an arrangement. I never properly asked for your hand in marriage. And, I had no idea at all what I was getting into that day at City Hall. Daisy… I want us to marry again. I want us to have a real wedding with a dress and cake and friends and family there to celebrate with us. It doesn’t have to be elaborate but it can be something that’s ours.”
“Something that’s ours,” I repeat with tears in my eyes.
“Is that a yes? Will you marry me again, Goldilocks? Not just for what’s left of this first year but for every year of our lives to come?”
Holding out my left hand, I tell him nothing could make me happier as he slips the beautiful engagement ring on to join my wedding band.