Chapter Thirteen #2
And if first impressions meant anything, he had to agree with the boys. The guy seemed like a total ass.
But for Amelie’s sake, he would play nice, though he was going to make it clear that Amelie was his.
Releasing his hand, Grant stepped closer to Amelie and slid his arm around her waist, his hand resting on her hip.
The gesture was partly instinct, and partly intentional.
He also didn’t miss Marty glancing down at his hand before looking back up.
Grant smiled to himself. That’s right, asshole, she’s mine.
The attorney recovered quickly enough, but Grant had spent too many years reading people not to recognize a reaction when he saw one.
“You are the twins’ father?” Marty asked. The question was intended for Grant, but he was looking at Amelie.
Amelie smiled. “Yes, Grant is Tyler and Trevor’s dad.”
“But I thought their dad wasn’t in the picture.”
Amelie sighed, “I never said that. You just assumed. Plus, it’s a long story, and one my attorney doesn’t need to be part of. And I told you before I left that I wanted this trip to be non-business.”
Grant felt the words land like a small victory, her dismissal wrapped in professional politeness. The boundary was clear, the door firmly closed.
He felt Amelie press closer into his side, her body language speaking volumes she didn’t need to voice.
He watched Marty’s expression, the practiced composure cracking for just a moment, something sharp and disappointed flickering behind the professional mask.
The attorney recovered quickly, years of courtroom training smoothing his expression into something neutral and pleasant, but Grant saw it, the tightening around the eyes.
There was a slight flush climbing up his neck.
The way his gaze dropped to Grant’s hand at Amelie’s waist before snapping back up.
“Of course,” Marty said, his voice even, controlled. “Well, I guess I flew here for no reason then. He gave Amelie a tight smile. “I’ll have my assistant email the final proposal documents, so you’ll have those on your return and can sign.”
Grant felt the shift in Amelie’s posture, the subtle straightening of her spine that he had come to recognize as her settling into a decision.
“Thank you, Marty, but after thinking through things, I’ve made my decision not to accept the offer. I’m keeping full control of my company.”
He’d had a feeling she would reach this conclusion from the way she had talked that morning. But hearing her say it aloud, watching her choose herself and her family over a lucrative deal, sent something warm and fierce through his chest.
Marty’s professional mask slipped, genuine surprise breaking through. “Amelie, you can’t be serious. We’re talking about generational wealth here. Security for the boys, for your future—”
“I am serious,” she said, her voice calm, almost gentle. “And I appreciate your advice, I truly do. But I’ve thought it through.”
“With respect,” Marty pressed, stepping closer, his voice dropping to something more intimate, more urgent. “This is a lot of money to walk away from. You should take more time. Consult with other advisors. I know what companies like yours are worth.”
“I already have billions, Marty,” Amelie interrupted, her tone still pleasant but with steel beneath.
“It’s not really about the money. The only reason I was even considering it was because I consider you a friend.
But this company is something I created.
I want to leave it for the boys one day, if they want it.
Giving that away for more money I don’t need...
” She shook her head. “It’s not worth it. ”
Marty’s jaw tightened, his eyes flicking to Grant and back to Amelie. “I hope you’re not making this decision based on—”
“Based on what?” Amelie asked, her eyebrows lifting.
“On temporary circumstances,” Marty finished, his voice edged with something Grant recognized. Frustration. Entitlement. The bitterness of a man who had thought he had more time, more leverage, more of a claim than he actually did.
“Amelie,” Marty tried again, but she cut him off.
“I’ve made my decision,” she repeated.
Grant had watched enough. He stepped forward, placing himself slightly between Amelie and Marty, his voice dropping to that tone that had ended negotiations in boardrooms and sent fear through his enemies on the battlefield.
“Marty. She’s told you no. Twice, now. Amelie’s made her choice, and she’s made it clear. You need to accept that and respect her decision.”
There was no mistaking the warning underneath. The back off that didn’t need to be spoken aloud.
Marty’s eyes narrowed, something ugly flashing there before he smoothed it away. He looked at Amelie, then back at Grant, and Grant saw him calculating the cost of pushing further, the scene he might make in a public market, the professional reputation he had to protect.
“Fine,” Marty said finally, his voice tight. He straightened his coat, gathering his composure like armor. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Amelie. Some opportunities don’t come twice.”
Without another word, he turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd.
Grant watched him go, then felt Amelie’s hand find his, her fingers threading through his with deliberate warmth.
“Well,” she said, her voice light but with a tremor underneath. “That was awkward.”
Grant squeezed her hand, lifting it to his lips for a brief kiss.
Then he bent his head to Amelie’s ear. “That was well done,” he murmured, his arm tightening around her. “Poor bastard flew all this way.”
“He’s a good attorney,” Amelie said quietly. “Just... confused about the boundaries.”
“Mm.” Grant pressed a kiss to her temple. “Consider them clarified.”
He felt her laugh, felt its vibration against his chest. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Immensely.” He pulled back enough to look at her, at the boys watching them with barely contained curiosity. “I’ve got nearly thirteen years of jealousy to work through, Amelie. Let me have this one.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling, her hand finding his at her waist and squeezing. “Come on. The boys are starving.”
“Those two are always hungry,” she teased.
Grant led her and the boys toward the Pub.
His claim was staked and acknowledged, the attorney already fading into a story they would laugh about later.