Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
SAVVY
“This is bullshit,” Madi seethes. She rarely swears, so when she does, it’s noteworthy.
“This is part of the process.” Kristen Richardson is a beautiful woman with a plastic smile and eyes that remind me of deep, bottomless pits.
She’s also my own personal devil today. Standing on the golf course with her hands on her hips, wearing a navy Alexander McQueen pantsuit and pale-pink wedge heels, it makes the chasm between us feel that much wider.
I roll my eyes hard when I peer down at the golf dress I’m wearing that’s half an inch away from being obscene—thanks for that, Greyson.
“They do appear to be more aggressive with them than they are with the men.” Quinn has been mostly silent today, but I flash a sliver of gratitude her way when she finally speaks up.
“This is a man’s world, Quinn.” Kristen manages to sound aloof even when tossing barbs as though they’re compliments. “If Savannah can’t stand up to them, what chance does she have of tricking the world into thinking that she and Grey are getting married?”
“We are getting married,” I say for the third time today.
“Right. I forgot. It’s just that it’s so…sudden.” Kristen’s eyes never change, but there’s something off about her body language that I can’t get a read on.
“They’ve been together almost as long as me and Brax,” Madi says with double her normal amount of sass. “They simply kept it quiet while they figured out where things were going.”
“Hmm.” Freaking Kristen. I can appreciate that she’s good at her job, but I also think she might be a shit human—it’s probably what makes her so good at her job. She has no respect for human emotions.
“I did hear they were together at Christmas,” Quinn offers, which is strange to me since she was so against us that day in Grey’s office.
I can’t trust either of these women.
“It’s neither here nor there,” Kristen says flippantly. “Savannah has a role to play, just as Greyson does. If she can’t answer the questions, she really doesn’t stand a chance at Greyson’s side.”
“My question is…” Madi sucks in a breath as though she’s actively trying to make herself appear bigger.
My poor friend is vertically challenged on a good day.
“Why hasn’t Savvy been prepped for today?
After Braxton and I got together, I went through extensive PR training.
You’re a crisis PR guru, according to Brax, so why haven’t you prepared your client for the onslaught of negative questioning? ”
Kristen clicks her tongue, and finally, a spark of…something flickers to life in her dead eyes.
“I was hired to get Omni-Reyes out of a situation they never should have been dragged into—they are my client. My expertise does not extend to…significant others.” The way she says significant tells me she believes I’m anything but.
“Then your expertise is no longer required.” Greyson’s voice is a deadly storm touching down from the open cooler we’re currently refilling. I hadn’t even seen him or the stranger at his side approach.
The second he steps into our small circle, it’s as though he’s siphoned all the air from the entire golf course.
“Don’t be rash.” Kristen’s tone is so condescending, I’m curious to see how Grey will respond.
“Don’t be rash,” he repeats. His voice is silvery smooth, but his muscles are tightly corded and ready to snap. “Don’t be…rash. Hmm.”
“I simply mean, I’m the best at what I do, and you’re too smart to let something as immature as emotions cloud your judgment. My job is to protect Omni-Reyes and its holdings. I can only do so much when you flat-out refuse to do half of what I’m suggesting.”
“I hate to break it to you Ms. Richardson, but I am Omni-Reyes and its holdings, which means I make the decisions, you simply supply options. And as such, I’d like to know why nearly all the paparazzi chasing after my fiancée are people we let go when we dismantled Montgomery Media.”
When Grey and Braxton shut down the business Brax’s adoptive father had built, a lot of shitty people lost their jobs, but they went out of their way to keep the good ones. Unfortunately for me, none of the good ones seem to be here today.
“What?” Madi is downright feral, but I stay composed, opting to watch Kristen’s curious demeanor instead. “After what those leeches did to me, you allowed them back into our lives to go after Savvy?”
“No, I’m sure that’s not correct.” Quinn quickly flips through documents on her phone.
“I assure you, every person on this property was vetted and invited for a particular purpose.” Nothing seems to ruffle Kristen. If I were in any other situation right now, I’d probably even admire her for it.
“Your guest list requires curating.” The Drill Bit is out in full form today. “Roman, could you please drive Madi to meet Braxton on the tenth hole? I’ll be finishing out the day with my beautiful fiancée while Kristen corrects her mistake before I blacklist her from anyone worth knowing.”
The woman actually scoffs. “You could try, Mr. Reyes, but it would never work.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re able to fix this shit, because otherwise you’ll learn very quickly just what I’m capable of.” Grey’s a walking, talking dark promise, but she’s just as turbulent, and it makes the unease grow in my already spinning mind.
“Madi, I’m Roman Harrington. It’s nice to meet you.” The man offers my best friend a hand. She looks at me as though she’s asking permission.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, waving her off. “Maybe check on Elle and Clover though. I know Cian is probably close by, but I’m not sure Clover can handle this kind of pressure.”
Roman frowns, and his long, confident gait missteps. “We’ll check on Clover first.”
“Elle too,” I call out, but he’s already guiding Madi toward a golf cart.
“That’s…strange.”
Kristen snaps her fingers mere inches from my face, and I almost lash out to bite her. Who the hell does she think she is?
“Focus, Ms. Monroe. You have a job to do. People are counting on you.” There’s so much vitriol in her words, it takes me by surprise. “You don’t want to let anyone down now, do you?”
“Quinn,” Grey barks before I can say anything. “Get her away from me before I do something we’ll all regret.”
Great. Of course Grey would take her side. I’ve only been out here all day listening to these slimy assholes, but whatever. I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry, Grey. I’d rather check on Clover myself anyway.”
He moves like my own personal shadow, and his arm sneaks around my waist before I’ve gotten two steps away. “Not. You. You’re mine, and we’re about to give those snakes a show.”
Confused, I search for Quinn, who’s already leading Kristen toward the course.
“What kind of show? I think my body has been on display enough recently, don’t you?”
The man’s entire chest vibrates. It actually makes noise, a growl that reverberates through his muscles until it finally escapes the back of his throat.
I like it.
“Who the hell picked out these dresses, by the way? It’s like you ordered them all from Hussies-R-Us. Newsflash, I need everything in tall, or my ass hangs out.”
“I noticed. And I didn’t approve them. This was all done by Kristen and Quinn.”
“She’s a bitch.” It slips from my mouth, and I instantly regret it. Tearing other women down is not who I want to be. It just proves again how out of sorts I am.
“Which one?” He chuckles.
Both. But Quinn, oddly, did stick up for me just now. “Mostly Kristen.” Jesus. I sound like I’ve been sucking on lemons all day.
“Agreed. Now, tell me what we need to do.”
“Well, first you need to get your Grinch out of my ass and release me.”
He does so slowly, lifting one finger at a time, before stepping back.
“Thank you. We’re almost done restocking. I was just about to add the last case of High Noon when Kristen showed up.”
Grey walks to the shed door and pulls out a pallet of High Noons, then places them in the beverage cooler.
“Ready to head to the next hole?” he asks, slipping into the driver’s seat.
“Hey, I’m driving.”
“No.”
“What are you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be playing golf?”
“Change of plans.” His gaze falls to my bare thighs when I sit next to him. The ‘Omni-Reyes Happiness’ dress is obscene when I’m standing. Sitting is like being in a bathing suit. “The logo looks good.”
“Again, could’ve fooled me that you didn’t order the damn things.” A giant smiling sunshine spreads across my breasts, with Omni-Reyes above and Happiness below.
“I’m not someone who shares, sweetheart. So, the very last thing I would have put you in is a cocktease of an outfit. That”—he meets my stare with so much heat I’ll feel the burn for days—“is for my eyes only. But here we are.”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “So, what’s the plan?”
His real smile knocks the air from my lungs. Not the one he uses professionally. Not the one that scares people away, but the one that makes him appear younger and not so jaded and eases the tension in his face.
“The plan? We’re going to sell some beer, answer some questions, and make damn sure the world falls in love with us—the real us—not the version people think they know.”
Sarcasm is my default, and my ensuing laugh is its soundtrack. “Grey, we couldn’t even fool our best friends into believing we were friends for one day while they got married. You sincerely think we can trick the world into believing we’re in love?”
His hand falls to my upper thigh, and my lungs rattle in my ribcage.
“I know we can.”
“What exactly is your plan here?”
“To show them who the fuck we are.”
“And you’re so confident that who we are is what they want to see?”
“No, I don’t care about what they want to see. I only care that we give them the truth.”
“What truth?”
There’s that damn sun-blinding smile again.