7. Grady
CHAPTER 7
GRADY
My blood is still boiling from my conversation with Jodi when Spencer sidles up to the bar and plops herself on the last open bar stool. The heat burning my face from anger and the heat from Spencer’s eyes on me are almost impossible to differentiate. She observes me for a moment, not saying a word as I tilt a chilled glass against the beer tap and pull the long handle back. A perfect half inch of foam forms on the top, and I set it down on the tray that Finn is waiting to take out to some customers.
“Your drink is at your table,” I inform her, in case that’s the reason she’s sitting here. She wasn’t there when I dropped them off, and it caused an unexpected pang of disappointment, thinking maybe she had left. But here she is, blinking her green eyes at me in the dim light of the bar, chewing on her bottom lip as if contemplating her next words.
“What did you make me?” she asks.
“Something spicy. You strike me as someone who enjoys a little heat,” I answer, nodding towards the spicy margarita sitting on the table in front of her empty seat. Something spicy, and a little sweet. Just like her.
“Accurate assessment. But that’s not why I came over,” she says as I pick up the next bill to start working on the order. “I have a proposition for you.”
Her words are enough to make me halt what I’m doing and raise my eyebrows at her across the counter while I lift another glass to the beer tap.
“Breaking our rules already,” I tease. “Rebel. I like it.”
“No, not that kind of proposition, perv. Those rules are very much still in effect.” She waves her hand in front of her face, dismissing the notion of us ever hooking up again. It wasn’t that ridiculous to assume, and I feel a twinge in my chest that sucks my breath out for a moment, not unlike a mild punch to the gut. “It’s a business opportunity. Well, business for me. I’m still unclear as to what’s in it for you, but based on the conversation I overheard in the restroom, I’m assuming that this will benefit both of us. A symbiotic relationship if you will.”
I flash her a quizzical expression. Recognizing my confusion, she elaborates.
“You know, symbiosis. I’ll be the little barnacle that eats up all the gross bacteria off your back, and you’ll be the whale that takes me where I want to go.”
“I’m not sure that’s entirely accurate.” I cock my head at her. “And do I have to be a bacteria-ridden whale in this scenario? Is there no other option I can choose from?”
“Yes. And no. That’s how the symbiotic relationship works, I’m positive. Didn’t you ever learn that in elementary school?” She smacks her hands down on the bar, before announcing what it is she came to propose. “I know for a fact that you need help improving your reputation so you can take down the ‘corporate elite’ or whatever.” She says the last part of that sentence with finger quotes. “I think we can help each other. Let me be your personal PR guru.”
“I don’t know, Spence,” I hesitate. I want nothing more than to spend all my time with Spencer, but working together sounds an awful lot like not keeping our distance from one another. The fact of the matter is, I no longer trust myself to be around her. Spending more time with her is dangerous territory where my heart is concerned. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to work together. I mean, you said it yourself. The only way for our one-night stand to work is for us to stay away from each other.”
“We have the rules for a reason. They’ll keep us in line,” she counters. “As long as we follow them, we’ll be in the safe zone. No feelings, no attachment. Just two friends helping each other out. You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.” That’s what I’m afraid of. The ‘just friends’ aspect of our agreement. I don’t know if I can be just friends with Spencer, not without getting hurt.
“Let me think on it, okay?” I’ve been wading through my feelings about our hook-up the other night, and I haven’t come to any solid conclusion about what having Spencer in my life will mean for me being able to keep this relationship casual. My gut is telling me it’s not going to help.
“Fine. Okay. You can think on it,” she agrees. “Just don’t take too long. I don’t have all day, you know. I’m hungry for your bacteria, Grady.” The reference causes a few people to give her odd stares from down the bar.
Before Spencer has the chance to hop off the barstool and make her way back to her friends, Carter Bouchard has blocked her in and is leaning casually against the counter.
“You must be new in town because I swear if I had seen you before, I’d remember,” he says, a slimy smile creeping across his face. To an outsider, Carter might seem charming, but I know better.
“Just in town for a couple more weeks,” Spencer says, her voice clipped. She’s getting a read on him, and I see her wall go up. The same one she erected with me that has all of her rules carved into it.
“Carter Bouchard.” He shoves his hand towards her, his Rolex watch glinting as it catches the light.
Spencer takes his hand and shakes it, and my face is heating with rage all over again. I haven’t had the chance to warn her about Carter, and here he is, trying to make a move on her. Her eyes flick briefly over to me, where I’m pretending to focus on the order I’m working on. If Carter makes one wrong move …
“Nice to meet you, Carter.” Her tone is friendly, cordial, and it’s too nice for him. I know I don’t have a right to be jealous of Spencer talking to other guys. I have no claim on her, as much as it might pain me to say so. But I can’t help the sticky, burning feeling that is bubbling up the back of my throat. I could kick Carter out of the bar if I wanted, right? I’m the fucking owner, I can do whatever I want. Ban him. Plaster his photo all over the windows outside so everyone in town knows he’s no longer welcome here.
“What are you drinking? Let me get the next one.” I glance up long enough to see how Carter’s eyes have landed on Spencer’s breasts, and I swear I see a glint of drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. Fucking pig.
“I should get back to my friends.” Spencer gestures over to where Ally and Poppy are sitting, sipping their drinks and watching the situation unfold. I feel half tempted to go and make them some popcorn the way they’re looking over here.
“Just one drink. Your friends can wait.” Man, Carter is insistent when he wants to be. I see Spencer weigh over her options in her head. “I’ll let you in on a secret.”
Spencer’s eyebrow quirks up with curiosity.
“My friends over there”—he points to the table of equally arrogant guys sitting around one of the larger booths—“bet me that I couldn’t convince you to have a drink with me. And I never lose,” he says, a pointed phrase that earns me a glance in my direction. Prick. “So, what’s it going to take?”
“Uh, how about a rain check?” she finally offers. A rain check. Meaning, no drink with Carter tonight, but she’s essentially agreed to go out with him, and he won’t forget that. Bile rises in the back of my throat, and I fight the red-hot rage burning behind my eyes. I think if I stare at Carter for too long, he might combust. “Technically I haven’t said no.” Spencer reaches across the bar and plucks the pen out of my shirt pocket before picking up Carter’s hand and scrawling what I can only assume is her phone number on his palm.
“I’m gonna hold you to that, Red.” Red. Like he couldn’t think of anything better to call her. Red. It’s so obvious it’s infuriating. He winks at her before finally retreating back to his friends and leaving her alone.
I disliked Carter before, but now I realize that I hate him, loathe the very existence of him on this earth. For the sole fact that he has the guts to make a move on Spencer, and the audacity to present himself like someone who is charming and worth her time of day. The arrogance that allows him to just go after what he wants and get it.
“Well, nice chatting with you, Grady. I’m going to go back to Ally and Pops. Let me know if you change your mind about my proposal,”Spencer says, as if the interaction meant absolutely nothing to her. It meant everything to me. It just ruined my fucking day.
She turns on her heel to walk away from the bar and throws a little backward wave towards me over her shoulder. Suddenly, the rage that was bubbling up within me turns into something palpable—motivation.
“I changed my mind,” I blurt, and Spencer stops in her tracks.
“Don’t you need more time to think about it?” she says, whirling around on her heel, her brows pinched together in question.
“I’ve thought about it. I want your help. Let’s work together. Let’s do this.”She’s still squinting at me skeptically, as if she’s trying to make sense of my sudden change of heart. She must decide that she doesn’t particularly care why I’ve changed my mind, because she strides back over to me, reaching her hand over the bar to shake mine.
I extend my arm out towards her, but I pull back the moment before we make contact.
“Just promise me one thing,” I start, hesitating before making my request. Spencer blinks back at me, her green eyes wide. She’s clearly not used to me making demands. “Don’t go out with Carter. He’s …” I struggle to find a way to warn her about Carter without coming across like a jealous asshole. “He’s not a good guy.” I hope that Spencer doesn’t read too much into what I’ve just asked of her. It’s the truth. I would tell anyone to stay away from Carter.
Spencer’s mouth works as she mulls over my request before she shrugs and grips my outstretched hand. I release a long exhale through my nose.
“I wasn’t actually thinking of going out with him, Grady,” she says dropping her hand at her side. Something in her tone is sincere, reassuring. “Boyfriend ban, remember?” Right. That. The double-edged sword. One side keeps her away from the likes of Carter Bouchard, but the other keeps her away from me. “Besides, he’s too clean-cut for my taste. I like my dates to have a bit of an edge.”I don’t miss the fact that when she says the word edge, her eyes momentarily dance over the sleeves of tattoos covering my arms.
“So, what are you going to tell him when he calls to cash in that rain check?” I cock my head, a satisfied grin forming on my lips at the thought of Spencer turning Carter down.
“He won’t call. Or maybe he will, but I won’t get it.” Spencer shrugs. “Women learn at a young age to never give a stranger their real phone number.”
“Oh, so you’re a ruthless little rebel.” My smirk twists even more. She just stares back at me, those green eyes aglow.
“It’s not ruthless, Landry. It’s survival.” Spencer glances back over her shoulder and nods towards Ally and Poppy. “I better get back. It’ll be a pleasure doing business with you.”
I flex my neck in either direction, coming to grips with what I’ve decided to do. The deal I’m about to strike up with the little devil sitting on my shoulder. The muscles in my jaw twitch as I grind my molars together.
Somehow, I doubt it will feel like a pleasure for me. Only a straining, ripping pain at the fact that she’s right there within reach, and I can’t have her.