Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
S he kept me waiting.
It didn’t surprise me. What did, however, was her response when I finally left my office and stopped by her desk, my umbrella tucked under my arm.
“Dammit, I’m not going home with you.”
My eyebrow raised. I wasn’t offended, merely curious. “That might wound me, had I any intention of inviting you to my house.”
It wasn’t technically a home. I slept there sometimes, and the closet held my clothes, but it wasn’t a home in the truest sense of the word.
Despite being an architect, I had no idea what that word actually meant.
“Oh, of course not. You can fuck me here, but you wouldn’t actually deign to allow me into your rarefied air.” She jerked to her feet, her boat-sized purse in one hand and her keys in the other.
No umbrella, I noticed. No rain slicker. Nothing to shield her from the elements. Any part of her.
I wasn’t thinking about her garters or her purple lace panties. I definitely wasn’t thinking about the nail-me-heels that had left an impression in my ass.
“Where’s your vehicle? You had one the night we—” I cleared my throat. “Where’s your vehicle?” I repeated.
“In the shop.”
That was probably why she hadn’t wanted to buy lunch. If she was more strapped than usual, she’d need to cut back. Hopefully, the stipend would help.
I remembered all too well what it was like to not have more than a few pennies to my name. I didn’t want her to experience what I had. She was the granddaughter of a local scion. She shouldn’t have to struggle for even a moment.
“Is the problem serious?”
Ignoring me, she tugged out her phone, glanced at it, then shoved it back in her bag. “Look, really, this isn’t necessary. It’s a quick walk to the train and?—”
“It’s pouring out.” I inclined my chin toward the wall of windows and the rain slicking down them. “You’ll be drenched in an instant.”
“Not the first time in my life I’ve been wet.” She shot me a look under her lashes, then sighed and hoisted her bag on her shoulder. “Okay. Just a ride to the train.”
I intended to drive her all the way home, but that inevitable fight could wait a few more minutes. Why have all my fun at once?
We walked down to the parking garage in silence. The building was nearly tomb-quiet, but I knew the cameras were still going. Whatever Violet thought about us walking out together, the fact remained that we certainly didn’t appear to have engaged in intimate contact recently.
Grace stayed as far away from me as she possibly could, walking stiffly in those seductive shoes that made her ass sway. I wished I could walk behind her to get the entire effect, but that probably would’ve been a bit obvious.
I led her to my Range Rover, and she got inside, buckling up in silence. I’d begun to think she wouldn’t speak at all until we were miles from the home address she’d listed in Marblehead on her employment form. I knew the area well, since I owned several properties there—including my latest acquisition, which was far more important than all the rest—and the street she’d indicated didn’t ring a bell.
The town proper wasn’t large, but it had a few streets that were zoned strictly for commercial properties. Here and there, there were a few residential buildings scattered among the businesses.
“Stop here,” she said.
I frowned, glancing around. We were a couple of blocks from the address I’d memorized. “We’re not on?—”
“There’s a new all-night coffee shop on the corner where I spend my evenings.” She tugged a small generic-brand tablet out of her bag and waved it, along with a stylus. So, the tablet she’d been toting earlier must’ve been her own. “I’m into those coloring apps.”
“A coloring app? What the hell is that?”
She shook her head as if I was impossibly daft. Perhaps I was. “It’s just what it sounds like. It’s an app where you color onscreen using your stylus or your finger. It’s not quite as satisfying as holding a colored pencil, but it’s still fun.”
“Or eating a crayon,” I mused.
She laughed as I swung to the curb near the coffee place. “What? You eat crayons?”
“Ate. Turquoise tasted the best. Of course, this was back in kindergarten, so they’ve most likely changed all the colors now. They’re probably all girly.”
“Because turquoise is so manly.”
“ Hmph .” I hit the button to unlock the car and looked around at the hushed, water-logged streets, uncomfortable with leaving her there even if her street was close by. But the coffee shop appeared inviting, with low lights and people clustered around tables. “I can join you, wait until you’re ready to go.”
Her safety wasn’t my only consideration. Marblehead wasn’t exactly a dangerous environment. I was also curious about this app she’d mentioned, I had to admit.
And perhaps I was in no hurry at all to return to my own quiet, empty house.
“I’ll be here for hours. Surely you have better things to do with your time than play footsy with me.”
“Play footsy?” That was an intriguing idea. Almost as intriguing as not worrying about being caught on camera. I was known in this town and in much of this area, but still, Marblehead offered me a slice of sanctuary I’d found nowhere else.
Which was why when my dream home had entered the market, I’d snapped it up. Annabelle Stuart’s place was a home, because she’d made it so.
I’d yet to go inside it since her death, because I wasn’t ready to face the reality of that house—of the world—without her in it.
How did Grace, I wondered and nearly asked her until I remembered the lines that divided us weren’t only boss and employee.
She didn’t know who I was, not really. Not like I knew her.
The sound of old swings echoed in my mind, that endless creak. The scuff of sneakers dragging against the ground as she achieved liftoff. Long blond braids, a plaid skirt and white knee socks, and a smile that lit up the universe.
I could hear her voice in my head. Childish then, but still Grace.
“ Higher, Grams. Higher.”
“I’m sure footsy isn’t elite enough for someone like you.” Grace reached for the door handle. “I’m good on my own, but thanks.”
“Tomorrow night,” I said, struggling to keep my tone steady. I wasn’t ready to let her out of my sight yet, but I had no choice. “You’re going to the community awareness gathering?”
“I said I was, didn’t I?”
“Good. I’ll pick you up at the office at six. I need assistance with some materials.”
Even in the darkness of the car, there was no missing how her shoulders stiffened. “You do realize the weekend means I’m off the clock.”
“We’re going to the same place. It makes sense that we travel together. I could pick you up at home if you’d rather,” I said lightly.
For some reason, I knew that was off the table. I wasn’t the most intuitive guy in the world—the term “oblivious” had been used a few times by my exes—but I had a good guess why Grace didn’t want me to drive her home.
It wasn’t because she was concerned I’d demand to see her bedroom.
She must think her place wasn’t up to snuff, which was ridiculous. Marblehead didn’t have anything but nice houses. Even if it did, what did I care? As long as she was safe and she liked her accommodations, I’d never make any bones about her living arrangements. I’d once lived way too close to the gutter myself.
“I’ll meet you at the office,” she muttered, opening the door.
“On the roof.”
She glanced back at me, her hair whipping into her face from the wind. Rain spattered into the car, but I liked the coolness of it on my hot skin too much to wipe it away. “Did you say the roof?”
“I did.” She liked to go higher, so at least I could give her that if I couldn’t offer her anything else. “Take this.” I pushed my umbrella across the seat. “Can’t have you out sick and missing work.”
She shot me a look and grabbed the umbrella, then unfolded it for her run into the building. I watched her close it up and duck inside, then rush up to the counter.
More tea, perhaps? My mouth watered. The taste hadn’t been so bad, especially with sugar.
Once she had a cup of something, she came back to the big picture window and sat down. And saw me still idling at the curb, watching.
She lifted her hand in a wave, full of impatience. I could practically hear her telling me to go.
So, I did.
Once I was home, I took a shower—without touching my dick, a feat of epic proportions—and pulled on a pair of silk pajama bottoms. I picked up my phone and clicked on the app store, then typed in coloring app .
What the hell.
Six hours later, I finally set aside my phone and climbed into bed. My eyes were blurry from staring at pixelated colors for so long on that small screen.
Next time, I would open it on my tablet.
No, I would not. I would delete that stupid app. Coloring was for children. Especially coloring in an app .
“So stupid.” I punched my pillow and closed my sore eyes.
The next morning, I went for my usual five-mile run.
When I returned, my mother’s car was in the drive. She and a stocky blond man were waiting by my front door, broad smiles on their faces.
“There you are,” my mother said, patting her companion’s arm. “That’s my boy.”
“Blake, is it?” The man held out his hand and I shook automatically, though I had no doubt he knew who I was. That he’d known even before he’d hooked up with my mother.
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Yes. Blake. You’re Brant.” I didn’t tack on a question, because I’d recognized him right away.
I’d researched him after my conversation with my mother the other day, and what I’d found matched her usual boyfriend.
Questionable past that included a couple of minor incarcerations, sketchy work history, four failed marriages. I tried not to judge considering my own history, but when it came to my mother, I wasn’t good at giving the benefit of the doubt.
“That I am. We were hoping to sit down with you, maybe have some lunch. If the staff can whip something up on such short notice,” he said with a wink.
“There is no staff.” I unlocked my door and led the way inside, bypassing the fountain to toss my keys on a fussy pedestal table some associate had given me at a housewarming party.
I hadn’t thrown it myself. That had been Jack’s idea, more to piss me off than anything else.
For a former Ranger, Jack thought he was damn entertaining. When I’d hired him, I’d expected a gruff, rough, military-type. He definitely had that side. He was just choosy about showing it.
I had no doubt he’d be showing it to Brant right now. We shared an uncanny sixth sense about people. It helped in business, and in life.
But I had a gruff, rough side of my own.
“No staff?” Brant repeated, clearly shocked. “This place isn’t as big as I figured it would be, what with the bazillions and all, but these are nice digs. Who keeps it up for you?”
“I keep it up for me.” I turned to face the pair of them. My mother was wrapped around him like a vine, her hopeful expression both reminding me of Grace’s last night and stirring my anger. At him , not her. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but I also wouldn’t tread gently if this asshole turned out to be predatory like the rest.
We weren’t off to a great start.
“I have two arms, two legs, two hands and two feet. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of my own affairs.”
“He doesn’t like people,” my mother confided to Brant.
“Oh. Well then, that makes sense. Reclusive billionaire, slumming it in an ordinary neighborhood. Hiding in plain sight.” He gave me a toothy grin and I barely resisted the urge to plant my fist.
Violent tendencies weren’t usually a problem for me. Neither was mind-erasing lust. If this new emotion was also due to my…whatever the hell it was with Grace, I would be sure to express my displeasure in a way that suited us both.
Like fucking the holy hell out of her.
“He’s not hiding. Are you hiding, Blake? All those fancy schmancy females you used to parade around with certainly kept you in the public eye.”
Used to being the operative words. I’d spent some time sampling all the delicacies that came along with being filthy rich.
That time had passed. Now, I just wanted to be left alone to work.
“Mother, I have plans this afternoon.” They consisted of work and more work—work I was behind on, thanks to my obsession with observing Grace in her natural office environment—before we attended the Light Up the Night event. “My schedule is packed right now, but perhaps we could make plans for another day.”
One far in the future.
Hopefully, by then she would’ve broken up with the sod and I wouldn’t have to kick his ass to the curb for her.
“But we’re here now.” I hated seeing that crestfallen expression on her face almost as much as knowing the con artist at her side was most likely casing the joint.
So-called slums or not.
“I don’t have much food. It’s just me,” I added when Brant prepared to launch into his latest diatribe. “I don’t stock a lot because I won’t eat it, so I’m unprepared for guests.”
“We could go out,” Brant suggested. “It’s just a matter of sitting down and bonding, son.” He moved forward to clasp my shoulder and I swear to God, every muscle in my arm tensed in preparation to swing.
I couldn’t do this. Not today. I didn’t know when I’d be able to, but definitely not now. I was already so raw and ragged from Grace, and I had to be ready for Jimmy’s awareness gathering tonight.
“My biological father is dead,” I said coldly. “He never earned the right to call me son, and you damn sure haven’t.”
I glanced at my mother and tried not to be affected by the horror in her eyes. That their hazel color was a mirror of my own made it twice as hard. “I’ll talk to you later.”
I didn’t know whether or not that would be true, or if she’d pick her new man of the moment over me. She’d done it before. I didn’t even blame her for it. She’d been looking for love for a long time, and my father sure hadn’t provided any.
But that didn’t mean I could subject myself to being a pawn in her search. Or worse, a trophy offered to the man who finally pinned her down for good.
Halfway up the stairs, I heard the front door close behind them. They didn’t slam it but closed it as softly as a gunshot muffled by a suppressor.
And silence reigned once again.