Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
GREYSON
“Omni-Reyes took, ah—a small hit since the closure of Montgomery Media.” Quinn, my long-time assistant, is obviously flustered. But we’ve known this was the likely outcome for months.
It’s nothing new, and it’s pissing me off that she’s bringing it up. Again. Braxton’s adoptive father was a piece of shit and deserved every blow we hit him with.
“But the move, and the ah…scandal is now—”
I’ve already asked her to repeat herself three times since my attention keeps drifting to the floor, where only last night, Savvy and I played the most intense game of Twister known to man, so this time I just tune her out and let her babble.
If you give people enough silence, they’ll speak to fill the uncomfortable void anyway.
The Twister box catches my eye. It’s tucked under the coffee table, and fuck me, I might need to burn that game now too.
I’m still not sure how things spiraled so quickly last night. My intention had just been to distract her enough that she’d eat a full meal.
What we got was that and an orgasm I’ll probably never be able to beat. And I’ve had more than a few spectacular ones with Savvy…always freaking Savvy.
Sex with her breaks every rule I’ve ever set for myself.
Condom. What condom?
No kissing. I can’t get enough of her lips.
No cuddling. I wrap myself around her like a goddamn koala bear every single night.
“Greyson?” Concern bleeds into Quinn’s tone.
Get your shit together, Grey. You’re better than this.
“It’s been long enough since Madi and Braxton took on Montgomery Media and exposed all their secrets,” I say, unable to lift my gaze from the floor.
“No one cares about what they’re up to except when Brax does an over-the-top good deed, which we’re working on controlling.
But I’m also not going to tell him to stop giving back. It’s something he needs to do.”
“No, Grey. Not—” Quinn’s voice drifts away, and irritation works up the back of my neck. If we were on a video call, I’d be able to see what she’s doing. Why the hell is she multitasking right now? Jesus, I’m not only an asshole but a hypocrite to boot.
“Ah, right.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever heard Quinn this flustered, and I sure as hell don’t like it. I pay her to keep her shit together.
“We’ll make up the loss by next quarter. Mostly. I sent some paperwork that needs your signature, and some other…time-sensitive information to Braxton. I’m guessing he hasn’t gotten it to you yet?”
Jesus. Is Quinn only competent when I’m next door micromanaging her?
“No, Quinn, he hasn’t. Things are a mess around here. Anything urgent should be directed to him.” Thankfully, Moose has made a few return trips in his canoe, so at least Savvy and I are able to keep on top of the most important aspects of our respective businesses.
“But you’re the CEO now, Greyson, not him.”
“And he’s my brother, equal partner, and perfectly capable of handling anything in my absence.
” I rarely get this annoyed with Quinn. She wouldn’t have lasted this long if I did, so what’s changed?
Ever since Braxton moved to Happiness, she’s had a stick up her ass about him that doesn’t make any sense to me.
Quinn Holloway has been a fantastic assistant, although I almost didn’t hire her. She met all my criteria—except she was only ten years older than me. I’d wanted someone in their grandmother era, but I was stuck and gave her a trial run. Fortunately for her, she turned out to be too good to let go.
Another way my father fucked me up. No assistant was safe from his harassment, and I always feared I’d end up like him, so the safest thing to do was hire someone I had zero attraction to.
Quinn is probably beautiful in her own way, but luckily, her personality put her strictly in the no-go category for me very early on, and we’ve had a peaceful working relationship ever since.
“Grey, can you throw me my underwear from the laundry room? It should be hanging on the drying rack,” Savvy yells as though she forgot I was in a meeting.
“Who is…so it’s true. You’re not alone.” Quinn says. There’s something teasing in her tone that draws my attention from the forms I’m signing. This shit is so much more efficient when I can do it electronically.
I lift my head just in time to witness Savvy freeze at the bottom of the stairs, wearing only a towel. Water cascades down her skin from her hair. I would have paid good money to see her washing with the gallon jugs I carried up earlier.
Her collarbones protrude with sharp angles that have me staring more intently.
It’s been six days since her confession in my bed.
Less than twenty-four hours since I broke my own rule and made us both lose ourselves to multiple orgasms, yet my mind is no clearer where Savannah Monroe is concerned, and nothing about that sits right with me.
At least she’s back to her flirtatious, confrontational attitude, and secretly I’m relieved. The fragile version of her was…difficult to witness.
But there are still times when I catch her lost in thought that I fear this outspoken version of herself is a mask she wears to hide her vulnerability. We’re together twenty-four hours a day right now, and I haven’t figured out when she removes the mask. When is she allowing herself to just…be?
What worries me the most, though, is her eating habits. It reminds me of my sister and the way she’d grapple for control of anything because my father took away so much of her autonomy. Starving herself had been the first way she regained control, and I was too young to help.
I’m not saying Savvy’s the same, but there are a lot of little signs that have me paying closer attention.
“Well, this is interesting.” Quinn snickers, but it makes Savvy frown, so I mute the call. The power came on this morning, but my Wi-Fi and cell service are still down, so the satellite phone is our only means of communication with the outside world.
“Sorry,” Savvy whispers. “I just need to get my underwear.”
“Savvy.” My voice is raw as she creeps closer. I love how she moves like a dancer but hate how fragile her bones appear.
Will it always be this way with her? This love and hate, push and pull that drives me crazy?
A gasp comes through the speaker, and Savvy’s scowl deepens just before she scurries out of sight.
Fuck. I guess mute doesn’t work on this dinosaur of a phone, but what the hell was Savvy’s reaction about?
I wait to continue my conversation with my assistant until Savvy is safely back upstairs.
“Braxton mentioned you were…not alone. The sex therapist, though. Huh. Never would’ve seen that one coming.”
I don’t like the way she mentions Savvy’s career, but I can’t quite place why.
“Her best friend is now my sister-in-law.” The watered-down version of our relationship feels safer. “The hurricane destroyed everything on this property, and we’re stuck here until someone can clear a path to us.”
“Is that why you’re not in the office?” Quinn asks. It instantly raises my hackles.
“Why else wouldn’t I be in?”
There’s a long pause. Long enough that I confirm the battery on the satellite phone didn’t die.
“Quinn?”
“You don’t have access to…anything out there?”
“No.” I grind my teeth. “We’re completely shut off from the outside world save for the satellite phone, so if you have something to tell me, just say it.”
“This really should have come from Braxton days ago.” She’s obviously annoyed, but I don’t give a shit.
Her recent distaste for Braxton has been a mystery to me, and perhaps I need to start paying attention. Regardless, she should know me well enough to know that she’s walking on thin ice where my family is concerned.
“We’re in the middle of a natural disaster. Braxton is being pulled in a million different directions, and I’ll remind you that he’s also my brother and the rightful heir to Omni-Reyes, so tread very carefully here. What is it you think he should have told me?”
“I didn’t mean anything by that, Greyson. But…”
Irritation picks at the beginnings of a migraine, but she knows I’m right.
Ace was Braxton’s grandfather on his mother’s side, while we share DNA from the morally decrepit Darren Wells.
I’m almost glad we didn’t find out we were related until we were in our thirties though—it saved Braxton from ever getting too close to the monster I once called dad.
“There are some things…” she continues.
“Just spit it out, Quinn.”
“You and your houseguest are currently embroiled in a national scandal, which is reflecting poorly on Omni-Reyes, Sunshine Studios, and…you.” It rushes from her mouth like a tidal wave.
My blood pressure spikes, and tension in my skull blinds me. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Her past is—”
“None of your fucking business.” The protective feelings that have always existed for Sage and Brax roar to the surface now, but they’re for Savvy. It’s new and completely unwelcome.
“I’m your executive assistant, Greyson.” She adopts a haughty tone.
“It’s my job to keep you abreast of things.
This thing happens to have taken on a life of its own while you’ve been playing house, and Braxton not informing you of it has made it worse.
I suggest you distance yourself from the sex therapist the second you get off that godforsaken property. ”
“Grey?” Savvy’s voice sends my pulse skyrocketing.
“Call Braxton,” I bark into the phone, then disconnect the call before facing Savvy.
Her brow is raised, and her arms are crossed. She’s pissed. “Your assistant has a possessive streak.”
I can actually feel the shock registering on my face because that’s not true at all. “Why would you say that?”
She carefully shrugs one delicate shoulder that’s bare—my T-shirt once again dangling precariously from one side.
“Women’s intuition. Why does she want you to distance yourself from me?”