Chapter 24
Chandler
I tapped my foot impatiently as I waited by the valet booth of the mile-long driveway leading to the sprawling country club behind me. The sun was beating down on me, and I muttered to myself about how it was ridiculous how anyone would hold a charity golf
tournament in the summer. I tugged at the white collar of my shirt and checked the time, my brows furrowing to see another five minutes had passed since I had been waiting out here.
Cars trickled in, and I kept an eye out for Mother’s silver sedan.
I had offered to send a car for both her and Greg to bring them today, but of course, was denied.
I knew Greg was behind it. He never accepted any favors from me, except when it came to paying for Nathan’s school of course.
Finally, I saw it round the corner and join the line-up to the valet booth.
There was only one way into this place and one way out, so it would still be a few minutes, but at least they were here.
I started second-guessing myself as their car inched closer.
I had invited them on a whim, thinking this would be the perfect event to see how Harold Enterprises gave back, but most of all for Greg to see me in charge.
Plus, he liked golf, or so he told my mother when she mentioned the event.
I figured he would have a hard time turning me down, even though I’m sure he wanted to think of every excuse in the book.
My mother probably called me ten times last night, double-checking details and telling me what outfits she had in mind.
I knew it was a big deal to her, so I entertained her, even though I was drowning in last minute details.
This was one of the biggest charity events that Harold Enterprises put on.
I could hear Gabriella’s voice approaching from behind me as she greeted guests. I ignored the feeling in my chest at the sound, and continued watching the line of cars. Her pleasantries stopped when she came to me, though.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked without so much as a greeting.
I didn’t know why I was expecting anything else.
The entire week she had iced me out, and I gave up on asking questions as to why.
I had even let go of how she ditched work after making a spectacle of me in the office.
It wasn’t worth my effort anymore. Something had changed, though I didn’t know what.
When I started wondering too much about it, I reminded myself that I was Chandler White.
Women and the problems that came with them didn’t matter to me.
I turned to face Gabriella, who had her hands on her hips and was looking at me sharply.
I sucked in a small breath as my eyes quickly took in the white, linen dress she wore.
It tied at the neck and hugged her curves until it flowed out at her knees.
The color brought out her summer tan. Damn her for looking so good when I was trying to get over whatever it was we had.
“I’m waiting for my mother,” I said, turning back toward the driveway.
I could hear her footsteps behind me as she came to stand next to me. I breathed in her familiar perfume and pushed down the longing I had to touch her. It was unfair how she had snatched away our sex life just like that.
“You invited your family?” she asked curiously.
“Is that a problem?” I asked sharply, turning to her and raising a brow.
“No, I’m just surprised.” She shrugged.
I bristled slightly, hating that I had told her some of the more intimate details of my life, including my forced relationship with Greg.
“Yeah, well I invited my mother. Greg is just a part of the package deal,” I muttered.
Just then, Greg pulled up to the valet, letting himself out of the car and rushing to open my mother’s door.
He ignored the attendant as he did so, proving that he could do something so mundane himself.
I rolled my eyes and watched as he reluctantly handed over the keys to the attendant, who stood there awkwardly.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, giving a little wave. “Greg.” I gave him a firm nod.
They approached hand in hand, my mother’s gaze lifting to the estate behind me.
It was a sprawling white mansion with tall pillars and large paned windows.
The place was surrounded by trees and cobblestone walkways that weaved around the property.
A stark contrast to the city we had escaped from, though you could see the Manhattan skyline from here.
“This place is amazing,” she said, her eyes wide as I offered her my hand up the cobblestone steps.
“It’s a country club,” said Greg gruffly, as if he’d seen it all before.
“Hello,” said Gabriella, stepping in gracefully. “I’m Gabriella Harold.”
My mother looked at her in surprise and then a look entered her eyes. I realized she probably thought Gabriella was my date to this event.
“We work together,” I said quickly as my mother shook her hand, followed by Greg. “Gabriella has been showing me the ropes of her father’s company, since I took the reins.”
“Oh,” said my mother, unable to hide the disappointment in her voice, but then she smiled warmly. “I’m Sandy. And this is my fiancé, Greg.”
“Ahh, I heard the news. Congratulations,” gushed Gabriella. “Can I see the ring?”
My mom lifted her hand and showed off the simple diamond proudly. My stomach was hit with a wave of nausea as Greg looked on smugly.
“Wow, you did a great job, Greg. It’s stunning,” said Gabriella.
He smiled at her with so much pride. Part of me wanted to smack the expression straight off his face. I glowered at Gabriella, unsure of why she was being so overly nice to two people she had just met.
“Shall we?” I asked, motioning toward the large entryway.
I let my parents lead the way, stewing in my pissed off thoughts as Gabriella and I followed behind.
We entered into the sprawling lobby that had been transformed for today’s event.
A small red carpet was to the left and an open bar was to the right, with a large table of items to be auctioned off in the center.
“Mr. White! Mr. White! Please! A photo!” a photographer said loudly when he saw me, waving me over. I knew this would piss off Greg, even though this was my charity event.
“Duty calls,” I said with an arrogant shrug, looking directly at him before heading toward the red carpet.
“Ms. Harold! You too, please,” the photographer called.
I heard her apologize to my mother and Greg, telling them to help themselves to the bar or peruse the auction items. It was something I should have done as host, but was too irritated to. It had been a mistake to invite them, and they had only just arrived.
I took a few photos on my own, my eyes adjusting to the flashes of light as the loud clicks of the camera sounded. The photographers asked Gabriella to join me, and I could see how much she wanted to say no, but she put on a dazzling smile and made her way toward me.
“Ahh, the future and the past together,” said the photographer. “Smile.”
I felt Gabriella bristle as she stood beside me. I was sure that comment just pissed her the hell off. The tension between us was thick as we avoided brushing against each other.
“Okay, now, Ms. Harold, just you.”
I walked off the carpet, letting out the breath I had been holding and joined Greg and my mother at the bar.
“Enjoying yourselves?” I asked, glancing toward my mother’s glass of white wine and Greg’s beer.
“This is so wonderful, honey,” my mother gushed. “You’ve put on an amazing event, and I haven’t even been outside yet.”
Greg took a sip of his beer, staying quiet. I smiled in quiet satisfaction that the compliment ate away at him.
“Now that that’s over,” said Gabriella with a smile as she approached, unaware of how many eyes were drawn toward her, including mine.
Greg chuckled. “It’s all a little much, isn’t it?”
“You could say that again.”
I pressed my lips into a thin line as I watched the two of them interact.
I hated how friendly she was being, even though I knew it was how she was with every single person, no matter who they were.
It could be the valet guy, the President of the United States, or the man I resented, she would always show warmth.
I just didn’t want it to be with Greg, who was clearly making fun of this type of thing, when I had been so apt to show it off.
“So, what is it that you do, Greg?” asked Gabriella, before politely ordering a club soda and lime from the bar.
I followed up her order with a double shot of whiskey, which had my mother raising a brow probably over how it was not even 10 a.m. yet and I was going for the hard stuff.
Why have an open bar if you’re not going to use it?
“I’m a contractor,” said Greg proudly.
“Ahh, a man who likes to keep his hands busy,” said Gabriella with an impressed nod.
“Exactly. People forget the value of hard work these days,” he said, tilting his chin up slightly. I thought his head might explode from his growing ego that Gabriella was feeding.
“I agree,” she said. “What was your latest project?”
“I fixed up an old townhome in the center of Manhattan. Kept its charm, but added some modern touches to keep up with the times. The bones were good, but it was a hell of a project,” said Greg.
“I wanted to move in,” gushed my mother.
“It sounds amazing. Do you have any pictures?” asked Gabriella eagerly.
“You know, I just might.”
I knew he probably had an album ready to go on his phone, jumping at the chance to show anyone his “hard work.” I watched as he scrolled through his phone, Gabriella standing close and pointing at different photos.
Her “oohs” and “ahhs” were genuine, but I hated the sound of them when they were pertaining to Greg, who was eating it up. I couldn’t take it anymore.
“Gabriella, I need you for something,” I said, interrupting their little bonding moment.
She looked up from Greg’s phone and raised a questioning eyebrow. I simply nodded toward the outside terrace behind me. She excused herself, leaving Greg shooting me a sharp look and my mother obliviously sipping her wine.
“What is so pressing?” asked Gabriella, trying to keep up with me as I stepped outside in the warm summer air.
The whizz of golf clubs swinging sounded behind me as the tournament was set to begin.
I watched as the golfers warmed up, ignoring her question.
The jealousy I was feeling toward Greg pulsed through me. She had never been that nice to me.
“Is this because of your stepdad?”
“He is not my stepdad. Yet,” I snapped.
“You’re way too hard on him,” she said with a shake of her head. “He’s nice.”
“You don’t know anything,” I muttered, my anger starting to boil over.
I had shared the smallest details of my private life, and she seemed to think she knew it better than I did.
The worst part was I knew she wasn’t saying it to get under my skin.
She genuinely meant it, which just pissed me off more.
“Chandler…” she started.
“You know what? Why don’t you go shmooze Greg some more? I have some board members to talk to. You know…people who matter.” I turned on my heel and walked down the steps where spectators had gathered, leaving Gabriella alone on the terrace.