25. Graham
Chapter twenty-five
Graham
R osay slips out of bed early in the morning to get ready for the wedding with her sisters. Though I miss her warmth beside me, it gives me the opportunity to make some business calls and check up on my dad. The phone rings a few times before he finally answers, quelling the worry in my chest.
“What?” he grumbles.
“That’s one way to answer the phone,” I reply. “Everything okay?”
“I’m fine. Just some indigestion from the spaghetti I ate last night.” Pots bang around in the kitchen, and I know he’s making his morning coffee. “So, when are you bringing home this fiancée you neglected to tell me about?”
I inhale sharply and clench my fists, frustrated I let my tongue get the best of me.
I should’ve waited to tell him about her until I told her about us, but I couldn’t help the excitement, the hope that takes over in me when I think about a future with someone who understands me and doesn’t want me for what I can do for them.
“She’s…” I stop to gather my words and figure out how to explain the situation to him. Lying isn’t an option. He spent too many years listening to my mom’s lies, and he raised me to be honest in my words and dealings. “She’s not my actual fiancée yet, but I very much want to marry this woman.”
That’s as truthful as I can get without embarrassing myself or making him think that Rosay is using me like Bethany did.
When I told him what happened, it hit a little too close to home and he became more protective of me, more involved any time I talked about a woman I was seeing, like he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be used the way my mom used him.
All he’s ever wanted for me was better than he got.
“Tell me about her.” Something taps in the background, his metal spoon most likely swirling the massive amount of creamer he uses into his coffee.
“Don’t grumble at me, but I met her at work.” His knowing sigh makes me smile.
“Go on,” he grunts.
“She’s a VP, our best one, and has worked for the company for about eight years. She’s immensely intelligent, and witty, and in her free time she tutors high schoolers in math.”
“Sounds like a real Mother Theresa.”
I chuckle. “Not quite. Not sure the Vatican accepts pink-haired women to be icons for the Catholic religion.”
“She’s the Xerox machine woman?” His voice raises a tinge, not angry but stunned. “I knew it!”
I scoff. “You knew what?”
“The way your face got all red every time you talked about her, which was a whole hell of a lot—”
“I’m sure I didn’t talk about her that much.”
“Oh really? If I remember correctly, you were just rambling on and on about how she stopped the elevator so she could finish dancing to the song that was playing.”
“But— ”
“And what about when every other boss got a piece of cheesecake for Boss's Day and when she saw no one bought you anything since you were new, how she left work and came back with some kind of pina roll or whatever.”
“She stuck it in a puzzle box that I had to solve to get the treat out.”
He snorts. “You’ve been in love with this woman since the moment you started that job.”
His comment strikes a blow to my core, the words ringing true inside my head.
He’s right. I might’ve pretended like everything Rosay did was an offense to me, and admittedly, I purposefully did things to get a rise out of her, but each moment was chipping away at both of our defenses so that we could come together with no walls between us.
“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure she feels the same way.”
“Son, you’ll never know unless you grow some balls and tell her.”
I choke on my spit, surprised at his candor. “You’re in rare form today, old man.”
“Cancer will do that to you,” he jokes.
“Not funny,” I reply. He groans again, and I hear the squeak of the cushions as he sits in his recliner. I glance at the clock, realizing time is creeping up fast. “I gotta get ready for this wedding, but I’ll call you later.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’m going to go play Mah Jongg at the library anyway. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
I take an exorbitant amount of time in the shower, letting the hot water work out the knots in my shoulders and relax me for the day to come.
After the wedding, I’ll take Rosay aside and finally ask her to make this official.
The event isn’t until the evening, but I’ve been invited to an early morning round of golf with the men and some business associates, so I have ti me to hype myself up.
Once I’m dressed, I shoot off a text to Kieran to let him know I’m on my way to the main house.
Dust kicks up behind me as I walk, taking in the beautiful green hills and the lush vineyards on the property.
Wilmington Winery is thriving. And they trust me with their investment portfolio, which is a point of pride, though the fact that Reign is trusting me with his daughter’s heart means immensely more.
“Morning, Graham,” Kieran says when he opens the door.
“Good morning.” I step inside and see Jordan and a few other men I’ve never met huddled around the kitchen island. “Happy wedding day.”
“Thanks, man.” He clasps my hand and slaps my back. “It’ll be you soon.”
That thought brings a smile to my face. “Hopefully.”
“Waverly is getting married?” One of the men holding an energy drink asks.
Kieran and Jordan share a look I can’t decipher and sweat beads my palms under their scrutiny. It’s Kieran who breaks the silence.
“No. Waverly isn’t getting married.” He doesn’t turn and meet the eye of the man who asked the question. “Rosay is.”
His drink clatters to the island, splashing yellow liquid on the counter.
“Oh.” He blinks a few times then shakes out of whatever stupor he’s in, grabbing a paper towel to clean up his mess. “Good for her.”
The energy in the room has shifted from easygoing to something heavier, but I can’t pinpoint what the problem is until the men start introducing themselves.
I meet Tosser, Marcellus, and Banks, three of Jordan’s coworkers, and when the last man introduces himself, it dawns on me why there’s so much tension in the room.
“Connor Gillespie,” he says, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you...?”
“Graham.” I shake his hand, fighting the smirk on my face. “Miller.”
Rosalina Gillespie just doesn’t have the same ring as Rosalina Miller does.
“Well, this is awkward,” Kieran says, stretching. “Can we go play golf now?”
I release Connor’s hand with a chuckle. “Ready to get your ass handed to you again?”
A chorus of oOo’s comes from the men, and we head off toward the green.
I ride with Jordan and two of his friends while Connor hitches a ride with Kieran.
I could give way to the questions running rampant through my head, but I know it’ll do nothing but hike up my anxiety.
Rosay hasn’t spoken about Connor, but I could ascertain from the conversation where I told her about Bethany that things didn’t end on a good note between them.
She specifically told me not to seek an investment with him, so that’s enough to tell me there’s no love lost between them.
“Sorry about that,” Jordan says after a few minutes. “I didn’t even think to tell you he’d be here.”
I shrug. “No worries.”
Tosser laughs in the back seat. “Maybe not for you, but I’m sure he’s giving Kieran an earful right now.”
The corners of my mouth lift into a smile. Knowing that Connor is uncomfortable with my presence sends a thrill of glee through me.
“I’m sure Kieran can manage,” I say.
We arrive at the golf course, and I try to ignore the heat from Connor’s scrutiny.
Jordan splits us into teams, placing me with Tosser and Marcellus while he teams up with Kieran, Banks, and Connor.
A coin is flipped, and they win the right to tee off first. As we play, my mind floats to Rosay, wondering what she’s doing, if she’s thinking about me the way I can’t stop thinkin g about her.
She’s probably getting her hair done right now, putting on makeup that only accentuates her natural beauty.
“You’re up, Graham.” Tosser nods to the clear green. “It’s a par 4.”
I plunge my tee into the grass and line up my shot.
My muscles stretch as I lift the club over my head and swing it toward the ball.
The loud crack as it careens through the air fills me with elation.
The course is silent, everyone’s gaze locked on the ball as it falls to the ground, bouncing twice before rolling onto the green, fifteen feet from the hole.
“No freaking way,” Banks yells from down the hill in front of us. His mouth pops open, and when I look at Kieran’s clenched fists and Connor’s frown, it makes me want to laugh. “Bet you guys a thousand bucks Graham wipes the floor with us.”
“Two thousand says he chokes on the back half,” Connor chimes in.
I’m no stranger to friendly challenges with other investors and friends but knowing the only reason he’s doing it is to get a rise out of me, his ex-girlfriend’s new fiancé, I refuse to allow him to bait me. Plus, I have more important things to use my money on.
“By all means, you guys can waste your money on a bet. I’m just here to play.”
“Yeah, guys.” Jordan steps forward, propping his nine iron on his shoulder. “The only person’s pockets that are getting lighter today are mine with this wedding, so shut up and play so I can go get married.”
Connor walks away, his posture rigid, club wrapped tightly in his fist. I smirk at his retreating form then refocus on the shot in front of me.
It takes me two strokes to get the ball into the hole, but I’d call that a job well done.
My phone rings with an unknown number, and I let it go to voicemail, so I don’t hear Kieran gripe about taking phone calls on the green since he was yelled at last time we played.
The rest of the morning passes quickly with Jordan beating me by two strokes.
“One la st beer as a single man?” Marcellus says, slapping Jordan on the back.
“I haven’t been single since that woman stumbled into my sophomore year Biology class,” he replies. “But I’ll take a celebratory drink for kicking everyone’s ass.”
“We let you win,” Tosser jeers.
We arrive back at the house and the men grab their beers and head out to the patio while I hang back a moment to check my phone. There are a few texts from Avery letting me know the meeting with Judge Donovan has been set up, and a voicemail from the random phone call earlier while playing golf.
My hackles rise when Connor steps up beside me, propping his forearms on the countertop.
I lay my phone down on the island. Dealing with a jealous ex was not something I planned on during this wedding weekend, but somehow drama seems to follow me like a ghost of Christmas past. I brace for the awkward dick measuring contest.
“So…you and Rosay?” he says, staring out the window.
“Me and Rosay.”
“Listen, I’m not gonna beat around the bush here.” I barely restrain a sigh. “I fucked up with her. She deserved so much more than I was able to give her. She’s a good woman, she’s—”
“Let me stop you right there, Connor. I know exactly who my fiancée is, and I won’t make the same idiotic mistake of not valuing the beautiful, smart, immensely talented person that she is.”
“I don’t want to see her get hurt again or be just another conquest to you.”
Condensation coats my fingers as I grip my beer, letting his words wash over me. He’s worried that my past as ‘Good Time Graham’—the persona I allowed Bethany to cultivate in the media to save her own reputation—is who I really am, that Rosay is just another notch on my bedpost.
My voice strains and veins pulse at my temple. “That woman is everything to me. I don’t care what you’ve seen in the media or what you think you know about me. I know how blessed I am to call her mine, and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that.”
The front door opens and Rosay walks in, speaking over her shoulder to Wendy. She stops when she sees me and Connor at the island, a look of horror overtaking her beautiful features.
“Hey, gorgeous.” I leave my beer and walk over to her, wrapping her in my arms to infuse her with some confidence. “Your hair looks beautiful.”
She pauses a moment like she’s an old computer buffering but then blinks the haze away and looks at me. “Thank you. I just came over to get my dress and jewelry. Winnie wants pictures of everything.”
Her mention of jewelry reminds me of the box her father gave to me, the necklace and earrings I’d love to see on her when she’s standing across the aisle from me. I lean down and plant a soft kiss on her lips, nose, and forehead.
My phone buzzes again in my pocket just as Wendy speeds into the house staring down at her watch. “We’ve gotta get going before Winnie sends the cavalry.”
Rosay quickly steps out of my arms, skitters down the hallway, and returns with a black bag over her arm. “Guess I’ll see you at the altar.”