by Nina Lindsey
“Manage isn’t the right word.” Grant crossed the room to pull his mother into his arms. “I would like that. If you want, I can even cook every now and then.”
His mother smiled and hugged him. “I also promise to try and rein in your father, although he’s only had good things to say about Bliss Cove. Grudging, but good. Speaking of him, can you please go outside and tell him lunch will be ready in an hour? He’s trimming the hedges.”
“Sure.” Grant started toward the French doors leading to the backyard. A monthly dinner with his parents wouldn’t heal all wounds, but maybe it was a start.
He found his father around the side of the house, with garden tools scattered nearby and a wheelbarrow half-full of clippings. After greeting him, Grant relayed the message about lunch and picked up a pair of shears.
“Is Rory here, too?” Edward glanced toward the house.
“No.”
“You talked her right out of taking my job offer, didn’t you?” Edward sheared off another branch and straightened. “You’d never want your girlfriend to work for Intellix.”
“That’s not true.” Grant moved to another hedge and began trimming. “I’ve never hated Intellix. It’s phenomenal company. I just wasn’t cut out for IT work. And Intellix became this…I don’t know, symbol for everything that was wrong. But it was never about the company.”
His father frowned. “Intellix was the reason you had so many privileges and the life that you did.”
“I had a lot because of Intellix, but it didn’t give me all my privileges. I earned many of those.”
Edward yanked a fistful of weeds from the dirt. “What about your trust fund?”
“It’s still there.”
“All of it?”
“Yeah. More of it now, with the interest.”
Edward wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “You didn’t use any of the money to buy that tavern?”
“No.” Grant picked up a few clippings and tossed them into the wheelbarrow. “I’d been saving for my own restaurant since I first started bussing tables. I was working at a restaurant up in Portland when I heard that the Mousehole was for sale. I’d been there a few times when I was traveling, so I made an offer. When the owners accepted it the next day, I knew it was the right fit. I moved to Bliss Cove the following week.”
With a muttered, “Huh,” Edward returned to the trimming. So did Grant.
“What are you going to do next?” Edward asked. “Open a Mousehole in Santa Cruz or Los Angeles?”
“No. I might invest in a place for another chef one day, but I’m not moving. I have everything I need and want in Bliss Cove.”
Almost.
“What about Rory?” Edward bent to pick up a stack of branches from the ground. “I assume she’s not going to stay at Digicore, and she’s not coming over to Intellix. You want her to move back to Bliss Cove and work in a bakery again? Waste her talent?”
“I want her to be happy.” A sudden tightness constricted his chest. “You know what it’s like to want your girl to be happy, right? Rory has never had the chance to prove what she’s really capable of, not even to herself. She’s tried, but she’s hit too many roadblocks. If you do what you’re good at, what you want to do, how is that a waste of talent? Would you rather I was working at Intellix doing a shitty job because I don’t know the difference between a bit and a byte?”
His father lifted an eyebrow. “A bit is part of a byte.”
“A small bite is an appetizer that can be eaten all at once.”
Edward slanted him a narrow glance. Amusement—faint, but there—glimmered in his expression. “That artichoke soup was something else. I’ll give you that.”
“Ancient secret recipe.”
They finished cleaning up the branches and started back to the house.
“Your mother has mentioned wanting to visit Bliss Cove again.” Edward’s voice was gruff. “I wouldn’t mind another bowl of that soup. Good fishing, too.”
“I’ll be there whenever you want to come back.”
“Maybe after the new year.” His father pulled open the door. “I’m taking your mother to Indonesia next spring for another second honeymoon. Which I guess makes it the third. Just the two of us this time. And believe it or not…no cell phones.”
“Don’t worry.” Amused, Grant followed his father into the house. “I won’t tell anyone.”
Chapter 26
As much as Rory wanted to see Grant during the holiday weekend, she returned to San Jose without stopping at the Mousehole.
Throughout her life, she’d always had her parents and sisters, but she’d been the one with the independent, renegade streak. The one who didn’t need anyone to take care of her. However, being with Grant was a whole other level of care, and she’d already told him that she was going to find her own way through this.
Just like he had.
She spent the rest of the weekend at her computer—testing and studying the various urban planning and architecture programs she’d sent to Hunter. She tracked down the designers and bombarded them with questions.
She contacted the chief of the architecture program at the National Center for Preservation Technology, the head of a forensic consulting and technology firm, and five historical preservationists. She scheduled meetings with the architects of the design firm and the engineers of the construction company Hunter had hired for the Mariposa Street expansion.
By the time she went to work on Monday morning, her mind was buzzing with ideas and her blood was zinging with excited energy. She didn’t even mind walking into The Hive, and she didn’t care what anyone was thinking when they looked at her.
“How was your weekend?” Douglas turned to her, scratching his goatee.
“Fine.” Rory sat down and signed into her computer. “Yours?”
“Er…fine.” Wariness flashed in his eyes, as if he didn’t know what to make of her cordial response.
“Good.” She pulled up the latest review files.
She worked until six, then left her Digicore code behind and went home to tackle more of her new project. She texted Grant a photo of her dinner—take-out chicken Pomodoro and a salad—and, in return, he texted her a photo of a fried onion blossom.
RORY: I want that.
GRANT: You’ll have to come and get it this time.
Oh, she would. Soon.
Turning to her computer, she pulled all of her more questionable skills to the forefront and tracked down information on the five men who had been keeping score on her. She compiled her findings into separate folders and began printing things out—photos, emails, screenshots of various accounts, social media pages.
The next day, she did it all over again.
And again.
And again.
A week later, she scheduled a meeting with the Digicore CEO.
“What can I do for you?” Faintly impatient, Brad looked up at her from behind his desk.
“I quit.” Rory put her resignation letter on his desk, narrowing her eyes on him. “Effective immediately. I won’t work for a company that refuses to take action against or even acknowledge sexual harassment.”
He opened and closed his mouth, his eyes widening. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb.” Planting her hands on the desk, Rory looked him in the eye. “I know you discourage complaints to HR, not that HR would do anything about them, anyway, and that all of your policies and tactics contribute to a toxic atmosphere of pervasive discrimination and harassment. It will be interesting to see how your partnership with Intellix works out if they ever learn of Digicore’s tolerance for reprehensible behavior. Starting with the CEO.”
“Who the fuck are you to talk to me like that, you little bitch?” Brad bolted to his feet, his face flushing with anger.
“I’m a distraction, remember?” Rory pushed away from the desk and folded her arms. “Oh, did I mention I discovered your own record for groping and propositioning women, especially d
uring interviews? You’re lucky you didn’t do that with me, or I’d have kicked you in the balls. Maybe I still will. Metaphorically, at least.”
“What the—”
“Just a little warning, Brad.” Rory swiveled on the heel of her boot and walked to the door. “But don’t let my threats distract you from your work.”
Her spine straight, she strode out of the office. As she walked back to The Hive, her supervisor Brenda approached from the breakroom.
“Rory, we have a project meeting scheduled at three.”
“I won’t be there. I just quit.”
Brenda’s eyes widened. “You quit?”
“You were right about what you said to me.” Rory looked the other woman in the eye. “Reporting harassment can destroy a woman’s career in this industry. But it doesn’t have to be like that. If you ever decide you’re sick of playing their game, l know you can find a better place for yourself. I hear that Intellix has a much better environment. They could likely use a smart, experienced woman like you. Maybe you’ll even learn that having a thick skin doesn’t mean you need to compromise your integrity.”
She brushed past Brenda and returned her workstation. She’d already cleared out her desk of a few personal items, and she grabbed the box and walked outside.
The second she stepped into the bright California sun, a combination of relief and fear flooded every part of her. Resigning and leaving The Hive didn’t mean she was done with her former coworkers.
Not yet.
Chapter 27
“Man, it was the craziest thing.” Nathan grabbed the beer Grant set in front of him at the Mousehole bar. “Like one of those…what do you call it…domino effects. I’ve never seen legal and publicity departments move so fast to denounce discrimination and harassment. I swear, there must have been tweets from every company in the fucking Silicon Valley announcing that they were planning to review their hiring policies, and how they’re so committed to inclusivity and diversity.”
He took a swallow of beer and shook his head with a laugh. “With all the tech executives shaking in fear, the Bay Area almost had an earthquake.”
“Good.” Grant began wiping down the counter. “It’s about time they took a serious hit.”
How they’d taken the hit, he didn’t know. Though Rory hadn’t been mentioned in any of the reports over the past week, he knew she’d had something to do with the explosive news that Digicore had fired five male employees due to allegations of harassment.
Shortly afterward, Edward Taylor had issued a statement announcing that Intellix was cutting ties with Digicore on a developing partnership deal. The two stories had sent shockwaves through the tech industry, prompting a panicked slew of statements from all the major companies about their own policies.
It was an earthquake, in a sense. The execs were now scared that backlashes and allegations could fuck up their business deals.
Grant hoped they would, if that was what it took to instigate real change.
“Dad is sitting pretty because everyone’s looking to Intellix as a model of an inclusive, respectful work environment.” Nathan hitched himself off the barstool and picked up his beer. “Mom is bursting with pride, of course.”
He started back to the booth, where Alice was sitting with her mother and sister. Then he stopped and looked at Grant again.
“So, Rory’s not working at Digicore anymore, huh?”
Grant shook his head. “She quit last week, I think. I haven’t seen her since before Thanksgiving. She’s still in San Jose.”
“Because I know she…well, Mom said there were some…” Nathan stopped and shrugged. “Anyway, whatever went down, it sounds like she can do much better.”
“She can.”
His brother hesitated for a second longer before walking back to the booth to rejoin his wife. Grant finished wiping down the counter and tossed the dishrag aside. He mixed an old-fashioned for a customer, refilled the peanut bowls, and set clean glasses on the shelf.
After checking on a few other customers, he indicated for his manager to take over the bar and went back to the kitchen. As he seared steaks, made burgers, and roasted potatoes, he tried to ignore the unease that had been simmering under his skin for the past two weeks.
The feeling had been subsumed by elation over all the news reports and the knowledge that Rory had somehow taken down the men who’d messed with her. No question she was a force.
But there was still another question. What happens next?
After the Mousehole closed for the night, he and the crew cleaned up. He unlocked the front door, and his employees headed out to their cars.
When everyone was gone, he went into the back and cashed out the registers. Taking his order forms, he returned to the dining room to inventory the liquor.
His heart almost stopped. Rory sat at the bar, her long hair loose around her shoulders and her pale skin glowing in the dim lights.
“Fried onion, please.” She smiled at him, though uncertainty filled her eyes. “With a side of cheese curds.”
For a second, he couldn’t move. Then his pulse bumped into life again. He fought the urge to leap over the bar and haul her into his arms.
“Kitchen’s closed.” He took a package of gummy worms from a box underneath the bar and set it in front of her. “I’ve got these, though.”
“My favorite.” She tore open the bag and chewed on one of the rubbery things.
“What are you…” He paused and cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, you told me I had to come and get the fried onion this time.” She shrugged, her blue eyes as bright as stars. “But what I really came to get is you.”
He reached across the bar and grabbed the front of her T-shirt, pulling her closer until their faces were inches apart. His chest knotted.
“You have no idea what it cost me to back off and wait for you.” He fisted his hand in her shirt, his blood heating as her cherry-scented breath brushed against his lips. “To leave you alone. It’s like there was a part of me missing. And that pissed me off because my life was supposed to be complete. I didn’t want anyone around, remember?”
“I remember.” She lowered her gaze to his mouth and then back up to his eyes. “But you always thought I could be the one to change your mind.”
“Changing my mind is one thing.” He dragged her even closer. “Carving a piece out of my heart is something else entirely.”
“Good thing you have plenty of heart to spare.” She slipped her warm hand around the back of his neck and rested her forehead against his. “I love you, Grant. I might have loved you from the minute you brought me tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich just because you wanted to make me feel better. I know I’ve loved you for much longer than I even realize. And, yes, that statement would start Destiny off on a lecture about fates, stars, and the Milky Way, but this time, I would actually believe her.”
With one more tug, he crushed his mouth against hers. Heat exploded through him. Rory tightened her hand on the back of his neck and parted her lips. He drove his other hand into her hair, deepening the kiss, his greed for her intensifying with every second. A moan escaped her and spilled into him. A thousand feelings surged through his body—love, lust, need.
She broke the kiss first, her eyes darkening. “Can we continue this somewhere else? The edge of the bar is squishing my waist.”
Less than a minute later, they were back at his house and tumbling onto the bed together, lips locked hot and deep. He climbed on top of her, fisting his hands in her hair, unable to get enough of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, arching to rub herself against the growing hardness in his trousers.
All the desire he’d kept pent-up over the past two weeks bolted through him, setting his blood on fire. He devoured her mouth and trailed his lips over her cheek to the soft warmth of her neck. He bit down gently on her collarbone while tugging impatiently at her T-shirt.
With a laugh, Rory hitched the shirt ov
er her head and took off her bra. The sight of her bare breasts sent his lust into a tailspin. He was already so hard it hurt.
“Your turn.” Rory yanked at the zipper on his trousers and pushed them off, her breath catching as she curved her hand around his erection.
Grant managed to get the rest of their clothes off, throwing everything to the floor before descending on her again. Any lingering unease dissolved into the sweet, hot crush of her body against his and the little murmurs emerging from her throat. He slid his lips over her breasts and down her torso, pausing to dip his tongue into her bellybutton. She let out a husky laugh and swept her hand through his hair.
The scent of her filled his head. He urged her thighs apart and continued the downward trek until he found her core.
“Grant.” A gasp stuck in her throat.
Steadying her with his hands on her hips, he pleasured her with his mouth and tongue until she was writhing and moaning beneath him. Using every ounce of self-restraint not to move upward and plunge into her welcoming heat, he kept going until her body began to tense with need.
“Oh my god.” She tightened her hand in his hair and bucked up against him. “Grant.”
“Come on, sweetie.”
One more stroke, and a high, keening cry broke from her. He planted his hands on her belly and soothed her with his tongue as she crested the wave and began to descend. He rose, clambering up her sweat-slick body to kiss her. She reached down to guide him inside her, and he sank into her with a groan of pleasure that shook him to his bones.
Pure desire and instinct took over. He thrust deep at the same instant that she arched up to meet him, their bodies falling into a push-and-pull rhythm that drenched the air with urgency and heat. He never wanted it to end, could have stayed buried inside her forever, but the drive for release took over, and he started moving faster.