Chapter Thirteen
Grant
I entered the firm’s lobby and found Daisy speaking to Governor Hopeful Thaddeus Branson Jr.
“So… you’re not lesbians?” Thaddeus asked. I could hear the gears turn in his head as he tried to make heads or tails of Daisy’s explanation of her and her fiancée’s sexuality.
“We don’t like to think of ourselves as lesbians. We’re not attracted to other women—just each other.”
“What about men?” he asked.
“Hmph… I never really thought about it. I’ve only ever been interested in Nori.”
“You’re a Nori-sexual.”
Daisy laughed and slapped Thaddeus’s shoulder repeatedly. “Nori-sexual, that’s a good one, Governor.”
He smiled affably. “I’m not governor yet, but that is the goal. Ultimately, it’s up to the people.”
“Jesus, you look like you want to rip the man’s face off,” Kieran whispered, sidling beside me.
“This is how my face always looks,” I countered.
“Wait,” he said, eyeing me up and down. “Big Bro… are you wearing… sweats? I wasn’t aware that you owned sweats.”
“It’s too early for you to be this annoying,” I sighed.
I admit I didn’t dress to impress, and perhaps I should’ve dedicated more time to grooming myself instead of raking my fingers through my hair and chewing two sticks of gum to cover up whatever morning breath I might have.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. “You’re burning up, Grant.”
I shoved his hand away. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine to me.”
“Where’s Kiyah’s phone?”
“I have it,” he admitted, reaching into his suit jacket for it. “I planned on giving it to her when I saw her next, but she hasn’t been home since Monday evening.” I attempted to power on the phone, but the battery was dead. “Aren’t the flowers beautiful? I think Kiyah will like them.”
“She hates pink roses,” I said through clenched teeth as my eyes bore holes through the wife-stealer and the “charming bouquet” displayed at the receptionist’s desk.
Lies. Kiyah fucking loves pink roses. She jokes that they’re the only pink besides my dick that she’ll allow in her life.
“Grant, what are you doing here?” Daisy asked, finally noticing me. “And why do you look like you’ve been on a week-long bender?”
I cleared my throat and ran a hand through my hair for the final time.
This is a bad fucking idea, but as Kiyah says, I always let my emotions get the better of me.
“Good morning, Daisy. I hope you closed out those cases we discussed,” I said with practiced measure—my way of telling her to get the hell back to work. Her eyes widened, and I prepared myself for the excuses.
“I’m… I’m working on th—”
“You must be Grant,” Thaddeus interrupted, outstretching his hand towards me for a polite handshake.
I glanced down at it and used the last shred of my self-control to not curl my lips up in disgust. I returned his gaze and noted the amusement that he attempted to hide behind his easygoing politician smile.
If his smug smirking wasn’t enough to piss me off, then it was our slight resemblance—blonde hair similarly styled, a strong, punchable jawline, and a suit I swore I had in my closet.
He’s the knock-off version of me.
“Mr. Baker,” I responded, accepting his hand. I shook it before dropping it coldly.
“Oh, my God. I can’t watch this,” Kieran mumbled. I glared over my shoulder at my brother, and he quickly made himself scarce, signaling for Daisy to do the same.
“I apologize for addressing you so casually, Mr. Baker. Your siblings were so welcoming, and the atmosphere appeared… relaxed,” he said, alluding to my attire in that passive-aggressive undertone snobby people sometimes use. Mom called it “nice-nasty.”
“No harm done, Mr. Branson.”
He smiled slyly. “You recognize me?”
“Anyone who keeps up with Texas current events would. Your face is plastered everywhere.”
“My campaign manager says that exposure is everything.”
“Good exposure is everything,” I corrected.
“I can’t argue with you there.”
“Thank you for returning Kiyah’s cell phone. How did it come into your possession?”
“Long story.”
Make it quick, asshole.
“I was visiting Emerald Hills, also known as The Bellagio per Kiyah, and I couldn’t find my wife’s room.
I was struggling with my son and trying to navigate the halls when she came across us and offered to be our tour guide.
I had finished my visit and was about to leave when I heard buzzing from my son’s backpack.
I found the phone and realized her phone may have gotten mixed in with our belongings when I dropped the bag, and she helped me. ”
“Yes… Kiyah can be careless like that.”
He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes at me.
“I didn’t get that vibe from her, but you’re her brother. It’s only natural you know her better than I do.”
“How did you end up at our firm?”
His face brightened. “I recalled Kiyah discussing visiting her grandmother in the Ladies’ Lounge and went to look for her there.”
“Did you have trouble finding the lounge? Or did you manage to find it without assistance?”
He went rigid and glared at me. I matched his heated stare and waited for him to back down.
This man is… off, and I don’t like that Kiyah caught his attention.
“The Ladies’ Lounge was a little less challenging to find.”
“All those arrows and signs can really turn you around, huh?” I said sarcastically, poking at the bear.
“It gets a little challenging when you’re distracted by a child. Do you have children?”
“That’s none of your business.”
He threw his hands up in silent surrender. “I see that’s a touchy subject. I apologize if I overstepped.”
Asshole, you overstepped as soon as you stepped into a florist shop.
“I located the Ladies’ Lounge and met your grandmother. I tried to give her the phone for safekeeping, but she insisted I swing by the office and drop it off.”
“Did she insist you buy flowers, too?”
“No, that’s something I decided to do on my own. It was a pleasure meeting Kiyah, and I wanted to show her my appreciation.”
“Do you make it a habit of buying flowers for every woman who is kind to you?”
A smile slowly crept across his face, a warning that he was about to say something that would tempt me to throw him out on his ass.
“Only the special ones,” he answered casually.
“I bet that’s reassuring to your wife.”
He cleared his throat and fussed with the watch on his wrist. Granddad always said you could learn a lot about a man from his watch.
Never trust a man who fiddles with his watch. That’s a nervous man who’s about to tell you a lie.
“Due to an unfortunate accident, my wife is incapacitated and will remain that way for the remainder of her life.”
“I am sorry to hear that,” I said empathetically, even though he appeared not to give a damn. According to the news, Mrs. Branson was involved in a hit-and-run. There were no witnesses or video footage. Whoever did it got away with the perfect crime.
He’s not sorrowful enough for me. If something were to ever happen to Kiyah… I… I don’t know if I’ll be able to live with myself. I certainly wouldn’t be buying another woman flowers.
“Thank you. A few days ago, Anna was discharged from the hospital to Emerald Hill’s for skilled nursing. Still, I’d rather have her home where she can have more personalized care.”
“Just in time for the election, huh? A young man who becomes a single parent and caregiver for his incapacitated wife is the epitome of family values. You’d be a shoo-in.”
His posture stiffened for a brief moment before relaxing again.
“In sickness and in health, Mr. Baker. I must get going. Please see that Kiyah receives the flowers and tell her that Pistol Pete says hello. Have a good day, Mr. Baker.”
I watched the politician creep out of the firm to his Porsche Panamera and prayed it’d be the last time we heard from Thaddeus Branson Jr.
Kiyah
I melted against the leather booth when Grant’s lips graced mine, and his hand squeezed my thigh underneath the table. I responded, pressing myself closer to him in our tiny booth as our tongues entwined. I retreated after he attempted to pull me into his lap.
“Grant, you’re doing too much. We’re in public,” I reminded him softly, wiping my burgundy lipstick from his lips.
“We should skip the rehearsal dinner,” he whispered seductively.
I smiled broadly. It’d felt like forever since I’d been this happy.
The past two days have been nothing but pure bliss since Grant returned home on Tuesday with the most beautiful bouquet of pink roses for me.
We had picked up the habit of buying each other flowers from our parents.
Growing up, I used to melt when Mom gave Dad flowers on a random weekday.
The look of pure joy on the man’s face was enough to hit you in the chest and make you wish for a love like theirs.
I had a love like theirs… have a love like theirs. I don’t know what the fuck I have, but I want to hold onto it forever and spend the rest of my days doing penance not only for Grant but for our family. I need them—all of them—from the craziest to the most frugal and everyone in between.
“We can’t skip the rehearsal dinner,” I insisted.
“Why not?” he asked, continuing his discreet under-the-table squeezing.
“Because we’re in the wedding party.”
“All we have to do is walk down the aisle. How hard is that?” he asked, nuzzling my neck. Lips smoothed across my skin, inching and inching closer to that spot that would make my eyes cross.
“You know there’s a lot more that goes into it than that,” I answered, pushing him away gently.
“I wouldn’t know. The only wedding I’ve attended was my own, and it was efficient.”
I snorted. Efficient was one way of wording it.
“We can’t skip. Questions would be raised.”