by SJ McCoy
Grant blew out a big sigh. “Yes. I didn’t know who she was. She didn’t know who I was.”
“Obviously,” said Cameron with a smirk.
“When?” asked Antonio. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Last weekend. After you left here.”
Antonio laughed. “You mean, I walked out, and my cousin walked in and you and her, you …?”
“Yep.” Grant was getting more uncomfortable by the minute, though the others seemed to find it amusing. He supposed that was better than them not being amused at all.
“How could you not know who she was?” asked Antonio. He looked genuinely puzzled.
Grant squirmed in his seat. Was he really supposed to admit in front of Cameron that since they were just hooking up, they thought it better to leave last names and personal details out of it?
To Grant’s surprise, Cameron came to his rescue. “Come on, Antonio. You left here before Chelsea arrived last week. I’m guessing you didn’t leave alone?”
Antonio grinned. “No.”
“What was her name?” Cameron turned and winked at Grant.
“Err.” Antonio rubbed his chin. “Umm. Carrie?”
“And her last name?” asked Cameron.
Antonio shrugged. “I don’t know! I … Oh.”
Grant nodded. He wanted to explain to Cameron that he wasn’t like Antonio. He didn’t go home with a different woman every weekend and not even want to know their names. He wanted to explain, but he knew anything he said would only make it sound worse.
Antonio gave him a dark look. “She’s my little cousin.”
Cameron laughed out loud. “And she’s a strong independent woman who can go home with a guy if she so chooses. I’m not playing the big brother card because she’d hate it, and you know it.”
Antonio nodded grudgingly. “Sorry,” he muttered, but he still wasn’t happy about it.
“It wasn’t just a hook-up situation. I liked her, she liked me. We agreed on no names and no details because neither of us was …” Hmm, how could he finish that sentence? They’d agreed because neither of them was looking for more than one night, so it really was just a hook-up, but it was more than that, even then.
Cameron gave him a sympathetic look. “You don’t need to explain a damned thing. He does it all the time. I used to.”
“But I don’t,” insisted Grant. “Well, not much.”
Cameron laughed. “This wasn’t supposed to be an inquisition about how the two of you met; it was more curiosity about where you go from here.”
Grant eyed him warily. “Nowhere. We’re working together. That’s it.”
“That’s all you want it to be?”
“That’s all it can be. We’re working together, and she just wants to pretend like it never happened.”
“Thank God!” said Antonio.
Cameron held Grant’s gaze for a moment. It seemed he was a little more perceptive than Antonio, but to Grant’s relief, he didn’t push it.
He was grateful when the waiter arrived to take their order. By the time he’d gone, the subject of Chelsea had been left behind. Not completely, the conversation turned to what he was doing at Zosca, but at least the matter of what he’d done with Chelsea had been shelved.
“Are you going to be able to turn it around?” asked Antonio.
“That’ll depend on whether she wants it turning,” said Grant with a smile.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean she’s running it very well; it’s just that she’s heading in a different direction.”
Antonio nodded thoughtfully. “If she were running a little boutique style winery, I’d agree with you.”
“I think that’s exactly what she’s going to end up doing,” said Cameron.
Antonio looked puzzled. “And Uncle Cole’s good with that?”
Cameron laughed. “He’s going to have to be, one way or another.”
They stopped talking as a woman approached the table. Antonio got to his feet with a smile and excused himself. It seemed he wanted to get to her before she got to them.
Cameron shook his head. “I won’t be surprised if that’s the last we see of him tonight.”
“Me neither.” Grant wouldn’t mind at all if Antonio disappeared with the brunette.
He came back to the table with a smile. “Would you guys mind if I …?”
“Not at all. Have fun.”
Grant met Cameron’s gaze. Now it was just the two of them, he wondered if Cameron was going to have anything more to say about Chelsea.
“Don’t worry. I meant what I said. Chelsea’s a strong, independent woman. What she does is her business, and what you do is yours.”
“Thanks.”
Cameron gave him that weird smile again. “And since it’s going to be just the two of us for dinner, I’d much rather talk business, business. What do you think? Can I pick your brains about a couple of things?”
“Yes. I’d much rather go down that path, too. What are you thinking about?”
~ ~ ~
Chelsea wandered into the break room for more coffee. It was almost seven, and she’d been here for two hours already. She liked to come in early on Monday morning and get a handle on the week ahead.
“Good morning.”
She started at the sound of Grant’s voice. She hadn’t seen him sitting there on one of the sofas.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No problem. I was in my own little world. Good morning.” She deliberately stood with her back to him while she poured herself a mug of coffee. She didn’t want to look at him. He was too damned swoon-worthy! He shouldn’t be allowed to look like that this early on a Monday morning. The first few days he’d been here, he’d stuck with his sharp suits, which she hadn’t minded a bit. Toward the end of last week, he’d gone more business casual, which had held its own appeal. Now he’d taken it a step further and had adopted the unofficial Zosca uniform of blue jeans with a white shirt. She sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly before she turned around. She didn’t want to come off as hostile. “What are your plans for the week?” she asked brightly.
“I’m lined up to spend the day in the sales office today, and with distribution tomorrow.”
“Great.”
“And can I come in with you on Wednesday?”
She pursed her lips. There was no reason to say no. At least, no good, valid, logical reason.
“I can wait if you prefer?”
She shook her head. “No. There’s no point delaying the inevitable. We may as well get it over with.”
He gave her a sad smile. “I’ll try to make it as painless as possible.”
She shrugged. How could she tell him that it wasn’t his scrutiny of her operation that she was worried about? She was so much more concerned about being stuck in her office with him all day. She’d have to leave the door wide open. “Thanks.” She checked her watch. “I should get back to it. I need to finish up a few things before the morning meeting.”
He nodded and raised his coffee cup to her. “See you later.”
For a moment, she looked into his eyes. She felt like a rabbit being mesmerized by a snake. His eyes made her want to agree, that yes, she would see him later—after work, for a drink, and after a drink for another night in his bed. She nodded briskly and turned away. She couldn’t blame him for that. It’d all come into her own head. She had to stay away from him! Right from the beginning, she hadn’t been able to control her body around him—couldn’t stop it from reacting to his nearness. Now, she couldn’t control her mind either; it was coming up with all sorts of deliciously naughty thoughts and images. She had to stop it. She hurried back to her office.
It was ten-thirty when Gene popped his head around her door. “Are you busy?”
She looked up with a smile. “I’m never too busy for you, Gene. Come on in.”
He came in and took a seat with a
smile. “How are you doing?”
She laughed. “Shouldn’t it be me asking you that question? You’re looking well, but how are you feeling?”
“Great. At least, physically I am.”
“It must be so tough for you. How long do you think it’ll be before you know if you can fly again?”
He shrugged. “I’m trying not to think about it. Even if I get my license reinstated, if I can fly again, it won’t be the same.”
“I want to say positive things, but I don’t know enough, Gene. Will you ever come back to work?”
He shook his head sadly. “Even if I can pass a medical exam, I’d only ever get authorized to fly passengers in a two-pilot scenario. I’d have to have or be a co-pilot.”
“Oh.” Chelsea’s heart sank. She didn’t know much about flying and all the regulations that surrounded it, but one thing she did know was that Gene had always flown solo. The Hamilton-Groves plane wasn’t the biggest or the fastest corporate jet, and that was simply because it was one that could be flown by a single pilot. The bigger ones needed two people in the cockpit. She looked up hopefully. “You and Piper get along. Could the two of you fly together?”
He smiled. “We could, but that’s not the point, Chelsea, and you know it as well as I do. I like Piper well enough, but she wouldn’t want to spend half her career in the right seat any more than I would. And besides, there’s no need for the company to pay two pilots when the aircraft only needs one.”
“But that’s not the point!”
He chuckled and held up a hand. “You need to think with your head more and leave your heart out of it. I know you’re only trying to think of what’s best for me, and I love you for it, but I’m fine. It’s that kind of thinking that’s gotten you in trouble with Zosca, isn’t it?”
“Zosca’s not in trouble.”
He gave her a stern look. “I didn’t say it was. You’re the one who’s in trouble.”
She shrugged. “Not really. I’m just not seeing eye to eye with Dad. That’s all.”
“And so, your dad brought in this Grant guy. I have to admit, I like him. He’s not what I expected.”
“Me neither. He’s not the ogre I wanted him to be.”
“Then why don’t you let him help you?”
She frowned. “I am. I’m not stopping him from doing what he’s here to do. He’s going through everything, and he’ll make his recommendations when he’s done.”
“I know, but why don’t you want to listen to his recommendations now? Put them into effect?”
“Because he’ll want to put profits above everything else, and that’s not what I’m about.”
Gene shook his head.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s just from what I’ve seen, he might have some ideas that could help you now.”
“I don’t want his kind of help. I just want to get through this, and then when he’s gone, I’ll take over and go my own way.”
Gene chuckled. “You’ve always gone your own way.”
“Yep, and I don’t intend to change direction now. Anyway, did you really come in here to talk about that?”
“No. I wanted to ask if you want to come for dinner on Saturday? I think Rita’s sick of having me home all the time and wants some company other than mine. She’s inviting a few people over for a bit of a get-together, and we’d like you to come.”
“Of course. I’d love to. What can I bring?”
“Just yourself. We’re going to grill out. It won’t be anything fancy.”
“That sounds great. How many people will there be?”
He shrugged. “I dunno yet.”
“Well, then I’ll make a huge dessert, enough for lots of people, and plenty to satisfy your sweet tooth for a while if it’s only a few people.”
“Thanks.” He got to his feet. “I’m going to be up in the offices with Cameron and Mary Ellen this week, so if I don’t see you before, I’ll see you Saturday, about six.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
He stopped when he got to the door and turned back. “Think about what I said. Maybe Grant could help you now if you let him. You might want to listen to what he has to say.”
She nodded. “Okay. I’ll listen.”
Once Gene had gone she stared out the window for a few moments. Was she really being too stubborn? She was trying to sideline Grant and just endure the time till he was gone. Maybe she should heed Gene’s advice. Perhaps Grant would have some suggestions that she could use in her own way. She blew out a sigh. Or perhaps not.
Chapter Eleven
Grant arrived at Zosca early on Wednesday morning. He parked in the little parking lot around back and took his time walking to the office building. He loved the early mornings, but he especially loved them here. There was a real feel of a new day dawning in the valley—and here at Zosca especially. He believed a new day was about to dawn for the little winery. Chelsea was about to have her day. He was surprised at himself how much he was rooting for her. He wondered how he’d see the situation if Zosca were run by someone else. Would he be so accepting of any other manager who was doing what she was? He was pretty sure the answer was no. He wouldn’t tolerate such sentimentality, not if it detracted from the bottom line. He pulled himself together as he reached the front door. He was spending the day working with her today, and he was looking forward to it. He knew he should try to lay things out for her—show her the errors of her ways, but he wasn’t even sure that he would—wasn’t sure there’d be any point. She didn’t want to hear it. She was just biding her time until she could be free of him and her father and could go about things however she pleased. He was a little concerned about how she’d fare left to her own devices. She was astute enough, but without her father’s influence to keep her in check, she might let her heart lead her into financial trouble.
It wasn’t his problem. He needed to remember that. She was her own person. Zosca would surely become her own company, and she would succeed or fail by her own choices. He didn’t have any influence on what she did. All he could do was the job he’d been brought in to do, which was make recommendations.
“Good morning.”
He smiled when he saw her. She was standing in the reception area, looking as gorgeous as ever. “Good morning,” he replied. “Are you ready for me?”
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked confused. He wasn’t sure if she’d forgotten that she was working with him today or if she thought he meant something else. He’d love to think what that something else could be. Was she ready for him? Ready for him to take her into her office and unbutton that white blouse. Ready for him to lay her back on her desk and …
“Yes.” She recovered too quickly for his fantasy to go any further. “Shall we get some coffee first?”
“Sure.” He followed her through to the break room and forced himself not watch her ass as they went.
She poured two mugs of coffee and handed one to him. “What do you think, should we just get down to business?”
He tried not to remember his conversation with Cameron and Antonio the other night about what kind of business he and Chelsea had been getting down to. “Sure. We’ve got a lot to cover.”
She gave him a wary look before setting out for her office. “And what is it that you want to cover?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Relax. I just mean I want to set out for you everything that I’ve seen so far and the areas where I think you could improve. I also want to hear about your plans—what direction you want to go in and see if there are any suggestions I can make that will help you there.”
She took a seat at her desk and gestured for him to do the same. “Why?”
He frowned. “I thought you’d be pleased. You’ve made it pretty clear that you’re not going to be up for running the place as a purely profit-based concern, which is what your father wants. My understanding is that you plan to go out on your own, and to run things yo
ur way, you’ll have different goals, and therefore, I’d have different recommendations.”
“I know that, but why?”
He cocked his head to one side.
“I mean, that’s not your job. You weren’t brought in to help me, so why would you want to?”
He shrugged. He hadn’t asked himself that question until now. “I’d like to feel I’m going to make some contribution here. If everything I suggest is going to be rejected when you and your father part ways, then it’ll kind of be a waste of my time. If I offer you a different plan that you can run with, then at least I’ll feel as though this wasn’t a wasted effort—that I earned my fee, even if not in the way I expected.”
She nodded slowly and took a sip of her coffee. “And that’s all?”
“What else would it be?”
It was her turn to shrug. “I don’t know, I just wondered if …”
He smiled. “You think it’s got something to do with you and me? Like it’s personal?”
She nodded but didn’t meet his gaze.
“Well, to be completely honest, maybe it has.”
She looked up at him.
“I was thinking about it just this morning. I’m not sure if I’d have any time for or interest in someone else if they were running their business the way you want to. I don’t usually factor sentimentality into business decisions.”
To his surprise, she glowered at him. “You think I’m sentimental?”
Oh, shit. He hadn’t meant to get her back up. “Maybe that was a bad choice of words. I just meant that you’re not driven by …” He almost said logic but thought better of that. “Purely by profit. There’s a reason people use the term cold, hard, business sense. There’s no room for emotional drivers in a standard business. You’re more concerned with the welfare of your people and the experience of your customers.”
She frowned at him, but she wasn’t angry. She seemed more puzzled. “I guess it depends on what you see as logical. I believe it’s logical for everyone in a business to benefit from its success. To me, that’s common sense. What I perceive as logic, you see as sentimentality, and what you see as business sense, I see as greed. Why would I want to make two hundred thousand dollars in profit when I don’t need it? I’d be happier making one hundred thousand and giving ten of my employees an extra ten thousand each. To me, that’s logical, but to you, that probably sounds crazy.”