CHAPTER ONE #2
“Okay. Well, thank you.” What the hell? I didn’t even know this man.
Now I was going to be staying at his house, eating with his family at some sort of party, and wearing his son’s tuxedo to a ballet?
What was happening? If I didn’t want his account so badly, I’d have been out of here.
But he represented a large percentage of growing gourmet grocery chains in the Southeast and up the coast. If I landed this account, I might have an inside track with others.
And it could mean a well-deserved raise for all my employees.
I already paid them well, but they could always stand to benefit even more from the success of Ashton Orchards.
So, I guessed I was staying with the Hart family for a couple of days.
How bad could it be? I reasoned with myself.
The rest of the time on our ride to the hotel, Garrison excused himself to make business calls. I tried not to listen, but it was impossible not to with the close quarters and his booming voice. Finally, we pulled up to the Renaissance.
Harvey hurried around to open first Garrison’s door and then mine. That’s when I realized Garrison was coming in with me. This was bizarre. Did he know I was twenty-five and had been managing my family business since I was eighteen? I didn’t need his help to check out of a hotel.
“You go get your things. I’ll handle the front desk. And Harvey will make sure your car gets to the estate.”
Handle the front desk? What did he mean? “Mr. Hart, I can check out on my own.”
He waved a hand in the air. “It’ll go faster if I do it.”
Faster? Did he not know there were apps for that?
He was looking at me expectantly, and it took me a minute to realize he wanted my car key.
“Oh, okay.” I fumbled with my key ring in my hand, trying to get the key off and describe my car to Harvey.
“Just give him the whole damn set of keys, Ashton. What do you think he’s gonna do? Make a copy of all your keys, drive to Georgia, and break into your house?”
“Er… no, sir.” I dropped the key ring in Harvey’s outstretched hand.
“Quit calling me ‘sir’. I hate it. Call me Garrison. Go on now, get your things.” He motioned me towards the elevator.
It felt like he was treating me as if I was one of his kids.
It was strange, but not altogether terrible.
My own dad had never treated me like this.
Really, my dad had barely noticed me. The most interested in me he’d ever been was when I stood up to him and said I was going to live in Charleston with Cara instead of going to Vanderbilt for college.
But I didn’t like to think about that.
I went up to my room, only to find everything had already been packed for me. Three maids were working hard on it as I entered. My mouth dropped open. “How did y’all know…”
“Oh, Mr. Hart made sure we’d get it all done for you, sir. He’s such a good man.” They were all smiles. I tried to hand them a tip, but they wouldn’t take it. “Mr. Hart already covered that.”
I reached for one of my bags, and a maid pulled it away from me. “We’ll have your bags brought down to Mr. Hart’s car.”
“Oh… kay.” This was unreal. I was wealthy. I’d been born into it and was comfortable with it. But this was a whole new level.
Soon, we were back in Garrison’s luxury vehicle, apparently headed to the Harts’ home. He’d said it was on a huge plot of land outside the city. “Thank you again for your hospitality.”
I realized I was being semi-kidnapped, but I didn’t feel like I was in any kind of danger.
I’d just had visions of treating him to a late lunch before doubling back through City Market, picking up some candy from one of those fabulous stores I’d seen earlier, and watching a baseball game alone in my hotel room while munching on chocolate-covered pretzels or peanut brittle.
But plans had changed. Drastically.
He made a face as if it was nothing. Hell, maybe this was how he treated all his prospective vendors.
“So, tonight is the debut of the ballet season here in Charleston. The fall season, anyway. I know it’s only August, but that’s what they call it.
They just had a break of a couple of weeks after a brief summer season.
My daughter is one of the soloists in the company.
We’re all attending tonight and then having a huge party back at the house.
Or ‘soiree,’ as my wife says.” He rolled his eyes but smiled.
“That’s why you need a tux. It’ll be a nice night. ”
“It sounds… wonderful,” I lied. If you didn’t count performances at Cara’s school, I’d been to a formal ballet once in my life.
That was when I’d gone to see Cara dance in the chorus of The Nutcracker at the Fox Theater in Atlanta.
That was back when I was still in high school.
I’d loved it, but that was because of Cara.
All I’d done was watch her the whole time.
I didn’t know how I felt about sitting through one now when I didn’t know any of the dancers.
Then a thought occurred to me. What if I did know one of the dancers?
I was getting an uneasy feeling about this.
Cara had gone to school in Charleston. I tried to remember the name of the dance company she had joined while she was in college.
Charleston was a decent-sized city, but I didn’t know enough about dance to know if it was big enough for more than one ballet company.
“Um… what’s the name of the dance company?”
“The Moonlight. You know it?”
Shit. I thought that was the one Cara had joined. I knew it was Moon-something. But surely she wouldn’t still be in Charleston? That had been a long time ago, after all.
My fingers itched to text my friend Lufton and ask where Cara was these days.
But I didn’t want to be rude and pull out my phone during what was, essentially, still a business meeting.
Even if it was a strange one. Garrison Hart definitely seemed like the type to call me out on being rude for texting.
“I know what you’re thinking about so hard, my boy,” Garrison laughed.
I doubted very much that he did.
He leaned in as if sharing a secret. “I don’t much care for sitting still and watching cultural things like ballet or opera, either.
But when your kids are involved? You go.
Besides, all the ballerinas…” he stopped himself and grimaced.
“My daughter, Nora, keeps reminding me that people don’t really call them that anymore.
The ‘ballet dancers’ are attending the party tonight, so you might find yourself hooked up with a pretty lady.
” He winked at me. Then his face turned deadly serious. “In fact, Nora is single.”
Oh my God. Was this a fix-up? Was that why he was taking me to his house? Looking at his swarthy complexion and massive, muscular body, I couldn’t picture him producing an elegant dancer as his offspring.
I smiled weakly. “Good to know.” I wondered how I was going to get out of this without offending anyone.
I wasn’t looking for a girlfriend or a wife.
I had a couple of women in town who I’d call every now and then.
They were on the same page as me—not looking for anything more than a hookup without strings—so it was a decent arrangement.
Even if I got lonely sometimes.
“But don’t even think about her best friend,” Garrison continued. “I’ve had that girl picked out for my Monty for years now.”
I nodded, wondering how Monty felt about that as we pulled through a massive set of wrought-iron gates and onto a long, tree-lined road.
I had grown up in a mansion and still lived in the large guest house behind it, but this was much more elaborate than I was used to.
It was truly an estate. After a couple of miles of winding around the grounds, the house finally came into view.
It was a massive, brick antebellum-style residence with large, white columns and wide stairways with intricate wrought-iron railings.
I could see other homes in the distance, but still on the property.
They were connected by more tree-lined roads and were smaller but built in the same style as the main house.
Garrison saw me looking at them. “Those are my kids’ houses. I have six.”
I gaped at him. “Kids? They all live here?”
“Absolutely. Wouldn’t have it any other way. The youngest two, Monty and Nora, still live in the main house, but their homes are waiting for them whenever they decide to settle down.” He leaned towards me and raised an eyebrow. “And that’ll be soon, I hope. I want more grandbabies.”
Jesus. I wondered if his children thought he was controlling.
Well, there was no doubt he was controlling, actually.
He’d known me for all of a half hour and strong-armed me into doing whatever he wanted.
I just wondered if it bothered them. It already made me mildly uncomfortable, so I couldn’t imagine a lifetime of it. But then again, he wasn’t my father.
Thank goodness. I was starting to see that an extremely over-involved father might be just as bad as a disinterested one.
“Come on in and meet Missy.”
I tried not to stare at the enormous fountain in the center of the circular driveway as we got out of the car. My mother would say it bordered on being tacky. She wouldn’t be wrong, either.