Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
GRAYSON
“Bye, guys.” I give the last people that leave a grin and lean my forehead against the doorframe once it closes.
Fuck, today was exhausting. It was busier than usual, and I can only assume it’s because the weather is getting a bit colder. It’s one of those odd weeks where it feels like fall, but next week it’ll go back to being hot for a while.
Walking back to the main hall, I see that there are still a couple of trays to take to the kitchen.
I pick them up and head toward the back.
As I grow closer, I hear laughter and music behind the closed doors, which is not something that’s happened before.
Not the laughter—I like to think that the people who come here are happy to do so—but the loud music is new.
Carrying trays in both hands, I bump the door open with my back and find something completely unexpected.
“Man! I Feel Like a Woman!” by Shania Twain is playing from a portable speaker in a corner of the kitchen at full volume.
The girls, who make up about half of the people here, are cleaning, dancing, and singing along.
I blink a couple of times to make sure what I’m seeing is real, and it sure fucking is.
The kitchen is big enough for them to do what they’re doing, and they are taking full advantage of it.
Dakota catches my attention by spinning with another girl whose first day is today, and then my eyes widen at the sight of Emma trying to drag Marina to join them.
Her apron is stained with all sorts of things, showing how hard she worked today. When I learned who she was earlier—one of the few younger members of the Brighton family—I feared my perception of her might change, but it didn’t. If anything, it made me respect her more.
She’s kind, generous, and humble. Emma doesn’t name-drop or show off her wealth to get ahead, which is more than I can say for most other rich families I’ve met at the events I’ve attended.
“Come on, Marina! Just one song, please!” Emma squeals loudly enough for me to hear.
The woman who’s basically a second mother to me relents and follows Emma, who is jumping and singing in the middle of the circle she’s probably responsible for. Eventually, they all grow louder, each in their own little world.
The kitchen here has never been this crazy, and it just happens to be on Emma’s first day?
Not a coincidence.
I’m about to shout over the music when my eyes land on her, and she throws her head back laughing the way I haven’t seen in months. The sound and her action make my body relax, and I can’t help but smile.
This is why I invited her today. Not to dance or sing with that great voice of hers, but to see me in a different environment with some of my favorite people.
She twirls Marina, and Marina laughs, looking at her with a gaze she doesn’t give many people.
It’s no surprise that Marina would like her right away.
Emma’s happiness is infectious, and that was one of the reasons she caught my attention so quickly when we met.
It’s rare to meet someone like that—someone whose emotions are so obvious and contagious.
When she looks sad, the people around her tend to feel the same way. From what I’ve seen and felt, anyway. The same goes for her anger and joy.
And the most unbelievable part is how oblivious she is to that…again, from the limited amount of time I’ve spent with her. I could punch myself in the dick for how badly I want to get to know her, spend more time with her, but as long as we’re in the situation we’re in, it’s not going to happen.
I fucked up when we ran into each other at Simone’s and again after my lab. I won’t do it again. Not for me, but for her. She needs this article, and I’m willing to set everything aside—though I don’t really know what that entails—to give her what she needs for it to succeed.
The song ends as the men whistle and cheer the women on. When it finishes, I clear my throat before the next song plays. Everyone turns to me.
I’m not mad, far from it. I’m amused and happy everyone had fun, but I’m exhausted and still need to answer some of Emma’s questions for the paper.
Emma’s friend, Jake, who’s probably as wealthy as Emma, lowers the volume of the music and crosses his arms. He narrows his eyes at me, and I know that he most likely caught me staring at Emma.
I manage to look away, realizing I need to be more careful around that guy if he comes here again.
Emma’s smart and probably didn’t tell him anything, but the guy isn’t dumb.
Either he’s a suspicious and concerned friend or he has a thing for her—something I haven’t been able to figure out yet, and I’m not sure which is worse.
“Why did you stop the music, Jake?” Marina asks, and I raise both eyebrows at her. “Ignore Grayson. He’s not mad, he just wants to get home soon.” She looks in my direction, waiting for me to confirm.
Rolling my eyes and finally setting the trays down by the sink, I lean against the counter. “I don’t want to be a mood killer, but can you guys clean and sing at the same time?”
The women grunt as they move back to their original spots, and I give Jake a quick nod, letting him know he can turn the music back on. He leans over to the speaker and turns the volume up to “I Wanna Dance with Somebody.”
He moves back to where he was cleaning, and he and Dakota almost collide. They look at each other in disgust and head to opposite ends of the kitchen. I make a mental note to keep them apart at all costs. I don’t have the time or patience for that petty college drama here.
Emma’s light voice sounds from where she’s drying dishes that one of my guys is passing to her.
Her hair, tied in a messy bun, moves slightly as she sways in place.
Henri, one of my go-to guys here, keeps moving his eyes to her, constantly checking her out.
Emma is none the wiser, and as I tell that green monster in me to go away, I still feel uncomfortable with the way his eyes roam up and down her body.
Henri isn’t a bad guy, but he isn’t even attempting to hide his attraction to her. He’s acting like a fifteen-year-old boy instead of a twenty-five-year-old adult.
“Ms. Haywood,” I say loudly, and she stops everything she’s doing.
Her face turns toward me, and I see the nerves behind her eyes.
I hate that I do that to her. It’s my fault for being such a dick and giving her mixed signals, as she called me out on.
“Meet me in the dining room for today’s interview once you’re ready. ”
She smiles excitedly. “I’ll be there right after I finish drying these dishes.”
Looking at the stack, I see only a couple of items left and give her a polite nod. Henri looks at me when Emma turns back to her task, and I glare at him. He stiffens and moves two steps away from her.
Better.
When I go to open the door, I catch Marina’s stare, and she shakes her head and smiles.
She’s known me for over twenty years, and she knew my parents for three years before I was born, when they met on a trip to Spain. There’s no way she doesn’t know there’s something between Emma and me.
But…there’s nothing between Emma and me. Nothing except some idiotic flirting and mixed feelings. From my end, that is.
I can tell Emma still feels something, too, and is trying to suppress it. I’m not sure how deep those feelings run. She rejected Leo, yet she also protected him the other day. Then again, I was kind of hard on the guy.
I’ve never been a jealous man, especially when the person isn’t someone I’m dating. Yet, for some reason, I was with her and absolutely despised it. I let out a long sigh and look for a way to distract myself.
Sitting at a clean table, I pull out my phone, and my finger hovers over Wesley’s number. We haven’t spoken in a week because of his busy schedule, and I miss my brother.
Tapping his phone number, I hear the line ring.
By the fourth ring, he picks up. “Hey, Grayson.”
Shit, his tone is the one he uses when he’s distracted. I could’ve sworn he was on his break.
“Hey, Wes. Are you busy?”
“Kind of, but I’m on a break, so I can talk for a bit.” There’s some rustling as if a folder is being closed. “I’m all yours for the next five minutes.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Cut me some slack, G. Flu season just started.” He sighs and yawns.
I lean my forearm on the table. “Let’s make this quick, then. Are you getting enough rest? Is your boss treating you any better? Have you spoken to Lainey lately? Are you still coming for Thanksgiving? And has your social life gotten any better since the last time we spoke?”
“No, no, yes, yes, and no.” He pauses. “Lainey’s having a blast but is also exhausted.”
“Yeah, she texts me every other day with some new and exciting event that happened in whatever country she’s in. She also tells me about the gossip inside the orchestra.” I laugh. “I’m still trying to keep up with who’s dating whom and who cheated on whom.”
“Dude, I know. Did you hear about the violinist who cheated on his girlfriend with his ex?”
I sit up. “No fucking way. She hasn’t mentioned Percy lately. Poor Bessie.”
“Poor Bessie is right. She also told me that when they got to Prague, Bessie was drunk off her ass and yelled at Percy in front of everyone.”
“That sounds like a mess.”
We stay silent for a moment. “Lainey has officially turned us into gossipers.”
Laughing, I nod in agreement with him. “Yeah, but at least she has a good social life,” I point out again at the lack of his.
He sucks in a breath. “And how is yours going, exactly?”
I grunt. “Touché.”
Wes chuckles. “Seriously, though. I’m excited to see you guys on Thanksgiving. It’s been too long since the three of us have been together.”
“Same here.” My brother lets out a long sigh, and I can tell what it means. “You gotta go?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Sorry, G. I’ll shoot you a text later.”
“All right. Let me know if you hear anything new about Percy.”
He snorts. “Will do.”