Chapter 10
GRACE
Ishould be living my dream. I'm in a massive penthouse with beautiful views of the city I always dreamed of. I have endless hours every day to do anything I want, with no worries of struggling to find money to pay for the roof over my head or food on my table.
All I need to focus on is writing.
And yet, every time I open my laptop, my stomach churns and my brain spits out all the reasons this will never work. The cycle continues until I shut the computer, and then doing that starts up the internal monologue that tells me what a failure I am.
I'll never be a real writer.
For a brief moment, I think of him.
Richard Caldwell.
It's been over three months, but the wounds he left still feel fresh.
I must have been naive to think he actually wanted to publish my manuscript.
I met him at a publishing mixer for seniors in the creative writing department.
He was older and kind, showing enthusiasm when I talked about my book, four hundred pages of a historical slow burn romance.
Next came the meetings. He was so attentive to every word, giving me advice to get my manuscript in shape for submission.
I thought my dreams were coming true.
And then it all came crashing down.
I try to take a deep breath, but it’s stunted.
It must be the penthouse; the air is too stuffy and suffocating.
Getting to my feet, I shoot a text to Kacey and find Wallace.
It's not like I'm trapped here. Asher said Wallace could drive me wherever I want to go, so I decide to take him up on that offer.
Thirty minutes later, I'm still staring at the same blank page, only now I’m in my favorite coffee shop. Kacey plops into the cushioned seat next to me, and I use the excuse to close my manuscript for the day.
I tried.
A quick glance out the window shows me Wallace is still parked outside, leaning on the side of the Mercedes as he watches the coffee shop like a personal bodyguard.
Asher’s driver has grown on me, even if I do find it weird that he seems to be with me more than with his employer.
I brought him out a coffee while I waited for Kacey and tried to tell him to come inside.
He smiled kindly, but he clearly has different orders.
My best friend takes a sip of her iced coffee, moaning as if she hasn't had that same caramel macchiato hundreds of times.
Her hair is twisted into two thick braided pigtails, and she's wearing a short black skirt over tights with a purple crop top that exposes a sliver of her stomach.
Where I like to hide my body under baggy clothes, Kacey likes to show hers off.
"Soooo…are we just going to continue with small talk, or are you going to tell me how it’s going with Mr. Money Bags. "
Instead of answering, I hold out my left hand, the giant diamond sparkling in the light.
Kacey’s jaw pops open, and for a moment I think I might have silenced my best friend. And then she speaks. “Holy. Fucking. Shitballs.”
The little old lady at the table next to us gives Kacey a dirty look for cursing, not that I think Kacey cares. I, on the other hand, go red and give her a sheepish look as my best friend grabs my hand to inspect the ring.
“This is huge!” she gasps.
“He said the size reflects how much he loves me, or at least that’s what people will think.” I go on to tell her about my spa day, the engagement photos, and the fact that the announcement will run in tomorrow's paper while she listens with wide eyes.
“Have you told your parents yet?”
I drop my head, not wanting to admit that I’ve yet to tell them. I just can’t imagine how that phone call will go. Hi, Mom! I know I never even told you I was dating someone, but I’m engaged now! Yay!
My brothers will flip; their protective instincts are way too strong, and my dad is going to want to interrogate Asher. Honestly, I’m not sure I want to bring my family into this charade, where I’m lying to them for the next year. No, thank you. I’d like to avoid that for as long as possible.
But I also know my mother, and she’ll be heartbroken if she doesn’t hear this from me.
“Grace, you have to fucking tell them!”
With a huff, the little old lady stands up, the chair scratching the tiled floor as she shoots us one last dirty look before stomping off. Kacey rolls her eyes.
“I know, I know,” I tell her. “I just… I haven’t found the right time.”
“I hate to be the one to break this to you, babe, but there’s never going to be a right time.”
I scrub a hand over my face. “Okay. I swear, I’ll tell them, just give me a minute to figure out how to break the news.”
Kacey gives me a sympathetic nod. “Anyway, how’s his family? I was reading about his father, and he seems delightful.” The way she says that makes it clear she’s being sarcastic.
“I haven’t met them yet.”
Her lips purse. “Well, when are you going to?”
I shrug, nervous all over again. “I have no idea.”
A little smile grows on Kacey’s face. “I guess that means we have to cyberstalk them.” She pulls out her phone and begins typing.
“No, stop.” I reach for the device, but she pulls it away. “I’m just going to get to know them the old-fashioned way, by talking to them and asking questions.”
Kacey scoffs. “No one does that anymore. Internet recon is the way to go.” A moment later, something on her phone has her cringing.
“What?”
Tilting her head at me, she asks, “Sure you want to know?”
“Ugh, fine. Just tell me,” I groan.
“Your future mother-in-law might be a cult leader.”
That’s the start of a four-hour deep dive into the Caine family.
Celeste isn’t an actual cult leader, as far as I can tell, but she does have some accusations against her.
And Leonard has had many profiles done on him, the dynamic head of one of the top wellness brands, but everything online shows him in a positive light.
I want to believe they’re good people, but something’s bubbling under the surface, and I can't help but feel like the other shoe will drop eventually.
For the next month, nothing happens. I spend my days at different coffee shops, staring at the blank page, desperately trying to summon more ideas before coming home to eat whatever healthy meal Lisette makes.
And then I scroll mindlessly on my phone with something playing on the TV in the background before I finally fall asleep.
In all that time, I can count on one hand how often I see Asher, and it’s always in passing.
I’ve adjusted my expectations to not see him, and truly, I’m fine with that, even if I am going a little stir crazy.
The idea of another meal that consists of grilled chicken and vegetables is what finally makes me break. I hate the idea of disappointed Lisette, so I wait until her night off and toss the pre-made meal into the trash while I order McDonald’s for delivery.
When Asher walks into the penthouse living room, he finds me sitting crisscrossed on the too-hard gray sofa, wearing pajama shorts and a Morgan Christmas Tree Farm t-shirt, with the bag of greasy food in my lap and my eyes glued to the ten-minute video of someone reviewing their latest read.
“Hi.” I nearly choke on a fry, surprised to see him here.
"We have a table." His voice is stern and deep, and even though I'm insulted by the insinuation that I should eat my fast food at the table instead of on the couch, I still can't help but like the sound of it.
Commanding.
My brain flashes back to the night we met, when his controlled voice told me to breathe after I spilt his drink on him and subsequently ended my short career as a waitress.
I listened easily. There was a bit of freedom in that moment, letting someone else tell me what to do without any overthinking.
And then again during the engagement photos when he told me to remember that I’m in love with him and guided me through all the motions. Each time his praise had made me feeling like I was floating, anchored down only by his voice, his praise, his commands.
"I know." From the corner of my eye, I can see Asher's head tilt as if he's assessing me.
"What are you watching?" he asks curiously.
"TikTok." I hold out the device, the woman still holding the book and talking through her feelings on it.
"Why is she talking about a book?"
"The algorithm knows I like reading." I shrug.
"You watch videos of people talking about books?" His eyebrow quirks, and I'm not sure if he's questioning my sanity or making fun of me.
"Yes..."
He nods, an amused look still lingering on his features. "Are you able to take a break from your videos to prep for meeting my family?"
“I’m meeting your family?” I practically choke. I’m not sure if I’m more surprised by that, or the fact that he’s going to actually spend time with me tonight.
After my research session with Kacey, I feel like I know too much about his family, but at the same time, not nearly enough.
“This Friday, we’ll have dinner with them. So, we need to go over a few things.”
Swallowing roughly, I lock my phone, silencing the video. "Sure."
"I'm going to change, and then we'll start."
I ball up the wrapper from my cheeseburger and pack up my fast-food garbage while Asher changes. Prepping for meeting his family seems like an overwhelming task. There are so many things that could go wrong. So many things that I could mess up that would send our whole deal down the drain.
After I toss out my trash, I grab a peppermint candy from the bowl Lisette keeps on the counter, hoping it’ll soothe my nerves.
When Asher comes back out, he's dressed in a pair of gray joggers and a plain black t-shirt.
The joggers hang low on his hips, exposing a sliver of toned stomach where the hem of his shirt rides up slightly. My eyes trace the sharp V that disappears beneath the waistband before I force myself to look away.
Get it together.
He settles onto the opposite end of the couch, close enough that I catch the scent of cedar and sea salt mixed with something warm.