by Ava Harrison
“Thank you.”
I hurry to get ready and practically run to the park. I arrive within twenty minutes of our conversation and find Grant already there, sitting on a park bench and looking out at the pond. He looks nothing like himself. There are bags under his eyes and his clothes are disheveled. My heart lurches at the sight of him.
“Hey, thanks for coming,” he says, standing when he sees me approach. I take the seat he offers beside him, but I don’t speak. He called this meeting and I’ll let him talk.
He sighs. “I’m going crazy at home. I just don’t know whether I can do it anymore.”
“Chelsea?”
He nods. “Yeah. It’s all too much now. Before you, I didn’t give a fuck. As long as I had Isabella, Chelsea could pull whatever shit she wanted. Then I met you and everything changed. I changed, Bridget. Living in hell isn’t something I can do anymore. Not when I know I could be happy again.”
I remain silent. I don’t want to jump to conclusions. He’s broken me once and I refuse to sit back and let it happen again. I’m stone.
“Chelsea is making a complete mockery of me. I’ve stayed all these years and now she’s throwing it in my face. The only reason I care is because I’ve given up everything. But the walls are crashing down and suffocating me now.”
“Did something happen?” I ask.
“She left Isabella again.”
“What do you mean ‘she left her’?” My voice is lethal. I want to strangle Chelsea with my own damn hands.
“She left her at the house by herself until Rhonda could get there so she didn’t miss her fucking flight with her new boyfriend.” His words drip with loathing.
“Did you call the police?”
“No, I didn’t even know until Rhonda called me in a panic. When she got there, Chelsea was gone. Rhonda called me to find out why the hell Isabella was alone. We’re lucky she didn’t call them.”
“Chelsea’s a fucking piece of work. How could anyone do that?”
“She has no regard for anyone and she doesn’t give a shit about Isabella. I threatened to take her, and Chelsea kindly reminded me why I can’t. I’m powerless, Bridget. Isabella’s a bargaining chip to bring me to heel. I’m the only one who truly loves her, yet I can’t save her.”
“She’s disgusting, Grant. She doesn’t deserve either of you.”
“I don’t know what to do.” His head falls into his hands. “I feel like my whole world is falling apart. Fuck. I shouldn’t be talking to you about this.”
I lift his head from his hands. “I’m glad you called me. I want to help.”
“I know, but it’s not fair. I don’t need to bring you into my crazy.”
I pull him in and embrace him. For a long time, the two of us just sit like that, holding each other and looking out onto the pond in front of us. We don’t say a word, but instead, hold each other as though we never want to let go.
When my phone rings on Sunday morning, I’m instantly on edge. Even more so when I see it’s Grant calling.
“Grant, what’s wrong?” I ask in a panic.
“Everything at home is fine. I’m not calling about that,” he says quickly. “It’s actually about work. I’m sorry to call you at home on a Sunday, but things aren’t going well with the new property.”
“Which property?”
“St. Barts.”
“I thought they were supposed to start construction.” As far as I’m aware, there have been no issues at all and everything is set to go. What the hell could have possibly happened to change things?
“So did I. There was some sort of mess up and the whole thing seems to have taken a downward spiral.”
“What kind of a mess up are we talking?”
“I don’t know. I’m not getting a ton of answers that make sense. I think there’s more going on that they aren’t telling me. I have no choice but to go there and fix things. It’s impossible for me to know what’s going on without actually being there.”
“You totally have to go, but why are you calling me, Grant? I don’t work in your department anymore.”
“I called HR and told them about the issues and requested backup in case things go south. Since you’ve been in on a couple of meetings with me, it makes sense it would be you.”
“What?” I ask in dismay. “You can’t be serious.”
“I know it’s last minute, but I need your help. We’ll be gone a day or two at most.”
“Grant, this is insane. I can’t go to St. Barts with you.”
“Please, Bridget. Everything is paid for. I just need backup.”
“Why me?”
“I told you. You’ve sat in on meetings.”
“One. I came to one meeting with you, Grant. That hardly makes me qualified to help you clean up a mess.”
“I know it’s asking a lot, but I really need you. Nobody else makes sense.”
I don’t buy it at all. Jared, Paige, hell, even one of the other temps would be a better choice than me, but the desperation in his voice has me seriously considering it.
“When do you leave?”
“In two and a half hours.”
“Two and a half hours!”
“The sooner I get there the better. I chartered a private plane.”
It’s a bad idea. A very bad idea, but how can I abandon him in his time of need? Despite our end, I still care about him deeply. The idea of leaving him to deal with things on his own when he’s already fragile doesn’t sit well with me.
“Fine,” I acquiescence. “I just need to throw a few things in a bag and I’ll be good to go.”
“Thank you,” he says, sounding relieved.
I hang up and pack a small suitcase. My hands shake and perspiration builds on my brow. I hate flying, and the idea of having to do it today while also dealing with Grant being close has my anxiety at an all-time high.
It’s not long before the car service Grant sent is buzzing up. Sitting in the car considering what I’m doing, I contemplate asking the driver to pull over and let me out. Is helping Grant really healthy for me? No. This is a bad idea. My phone vibrates in my hand, and I see it’s my mother. I almost send her to voicemail but at the last second, I think better of it.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all day.”
“I’m sorry. I’m on my way to the airport.”
“The airport? Where are you off to?”
“I’m heading to St. Barts on a work trip. I was packing when you called earlier. I was going to text you when I got there. I was in a bit of a rush.”
“What’s in St. Barts?”
“I have to help Grant with some problems at the location of the new hotel. It’s very last minute.”
“Grant? Your boss?”
“Yeah. Um, Mr. Lancaster is having some issues with the new project, so I said I’d go and help. It will be great work experience.” I’m rambling, but I can’t seem to stop. “So far everything has been going right. It’s good for me to be there when something is wrong, too.”
“I see.”
“You seem strange, Mom. What’s going on?”
“So, is it just you and your boss going?” she asks accusingly. She’s worried something is going on between me and Grant. I can hear it in her tone.
“No,” I lie. “There will be a few of us going. Anyway, it’s only for one day.”
“Well, that’s good then.”
I roll my eyes at her blatant disapproval. She might say it’s good, but what she really means is she’s not buying what I’m selling her.
“Look, Mom, I have to go. I’ll call you when I’m finished, okay?”
“Sure. No problem. Good luck.”
I put the phone down and groan. Why did I just lie to my mom? What’s so wrong about going with Grant for something work related? I should’ve stood my ground and pointed out that I’m an adult capable of making adult decisions.
“Well, this is it,” the dri
ver says as we arrive.
I look up, frowning. My foot begins to tap nervously. I’m not ready for this. “Thank you. Oh, no. I just realized I don’t have any cash on me. Would you mind waiting while I run inside to grab some money? I’m so sorry.” I wipe the sweat from my forehead. This day can’t get any worse. I’m a hot mess.
“No, it’s fine. The fare has been paid.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mr. Lancaster has it all taken care of.”
I’m sure he does. The driver grabs my bag and hands it to me, and then I hurry inside to meet Grant.
“Thank you for coming,” Grant says when he sees me.
I’m slightly taken aback when I see him. He looks as if he hasn’t slept in days. He has dark rings under his eyes, his clothes look like they could do with an iron, and overall, he looks worn-out. I feel sad for him as I remember how he fell apart on the park bench. His home life is a complete mess. No wonder he looks this way. I force myself to smile so he doesn’t see I’m so worried.
“Am I late?”
“Nope. Not at all. In fact, we still have another half hour before we board. Come sit,” he orders.
The woman next to us shoots Grant a look and scurries away.
“You’re very intimidating sometimes.”
“I am?”
“Not to me, but to others. I think people are scared of you.” I chuckle at the image of the woman still in my mind.
“You see right through me.”
“I most certainly do,” I say and grin at him. Then, before I can stop myself, I turn his way. “Are you okay?” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “Not really. But I’ll be fine.”
“Where’s Isabella?”
“She’s with Rhonda. Thankfully, she’s amazing with her. I only hope everything will be fine tonight.”
“It will be.”
“I hope so.”
We sit for the next thirty minutes and Grant goes over all the concerns he has for the property he purchased on St. Barts.
“Your plane is ready, Mr. Lancaster.”
We get up and walk over to the tarmac where the private plane is parked. Once inside, we sit next to each other. My nerves are on high alert for multiple reasons, including but not limited to the man sitting within inches of me. I’m not ready to be this close to him, but I told him I’d be here for him, so here I am.
I grip the seat and close my eyes, dreading the next part.
“Afraid of flying?” Grant asks from beside me.
I nod without opening my eyes. “I don’t like taking off.”
I wait for him to mock me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he takes my hand. I open my eyes to see his hand on mine. He squeezes and I squeeze back, feeling soothed by his touch. When the plane finally takes off I hardly notice. I’ve been so focused on our hands joined together that I forgot every one of my fears. Nothing matters but the feel of Grant’s skin against mine.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
Grant’s voice has me snapping into the here and now. I pull my hand away. I can’t allow myself to go down that path again. My heart’s too fragile and nothing has changed.
“Nothing. I was just thinking about the mess waiting on us.”
“Let’s not even think about it for these next few hours. When we get there, we’ll get it straightened out.”
“You seem much more confident than you did earlier.”
“I have you here.”
I will my heart not to skip another beat.
“Don’t, Grant. It’s not fair.”
“I’m serious. I don’t mean to upset you, but having you here calms me. I don’t know what else to say.”
“Just don’t say anything,” I sigh. “When you say shit like that you give me false hope, and it isn’t fair.”
“I never meant to hurt you. You have to know that. Not then, not now, not ever.”
“We’re on a work trip. We’ll be professional, get our work done, and get home. I’ll finish my time with The L and then I’ll move on. After that, we won’t see each other again unless the universe seriously hates my guts and throws you in my path.”
“It would be that bad to see me again?” Grant sounds hurt and I almost regret my harsh tone.
“Yes. It would. I care about you, but that doesn’t matter because Chelsea has her claws so far imbedded in your skin you’re stuck in place. She’ll keep pulling you down, but there isn’t anything you’ll do about it. And I get it. I really do. Isabella is amazing and she needs you.”
“You care about her.”
I look him square in the eye. “I do.” I take a deep breath. “Let’s just do what we came to do and not make this hard. Please?”
He nods and that’s the end of further conversation.
I can’t help but feel sad when the plane lands safely and we have to get off. I might’ve shut him down, but I can still feel the warmth of his hand on mine.
We head straight to the address for the project manager without any pit stops. The lady at reception holds our bags while we meet with the unsuspecting man, who’s apparently having lunch in his office.
“Fredrick?” Grant asks when we walk into the office.
“Yes? Who are you?”
“Grant Lancaster.”
Fredrick’s eyes widen. “Mr. Lancaster? From New York?”
“Yes, and I want to know what the fuck you’ve been doing with my hotel.”
“I, uh . . . I was hoping to have it all sorted out by the time you called.”
“Not acceptable.”
“Uh, well, yes, I-I’m working on the issues as we speak.”
Grant leans forward and laughs. “You are? Because it looks to me like you’re playing Solitaire.”
A bead of sweat drips off Fredrick’s face as he gulps. “I’m not. This was, uh, well, you see, it’s because I’m having something to eat,” Fredrick mutters. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with himself. I almost feel bad for him. Almost.
“We’re going to figure this shit out today. If you haven’t given me a plausible reason for why we haven’t broken ground, then you’re out.”
“You’ll fire me?”
“Now you understand.”
“Would you like to meet in an hour or so? That way I can gather up everything and we can maybe sit somewhere a bit more comfortable.”
Grant looks around. “I’m perfectly happy where we are now.”
“Oh. Okay then,” Fredrick says, dropping his eyes to the ground, shoulders slumping in defeat.
“Can you stay?” Grant asks me.
“Yep.”
I sit and listen to Grant and Fredrick run through everything that hasn’t happened. I jot down notes. I can see Grant getting more and more upset and I don’t blame him.
Grant stands up. “Right. I think we’ve seen enough. You’re out.”
“Excuse me, but you can’t fire me.” Fredrick grows a set of balls the likes of which we’ve yet to see from the scrawny man.
“Says who?”
“I’ll get my lawyer.”
“From what I see, you have two choices: call a lawyer and I’ll ruin you or—”
“Or?” His voice shakes.
“Fuck it. You have one choice, and that choice is I’ll fucking ruin you either way. Now, get your shit off my site. You have eight hours.”
We march out of the office and head to the car parked on the street.
“So, what happens next?”
“We need to find a new project manager, and I have just the man in mind.”
“You do? Already?”
“Yeah, there’s a guy I used to know in New York who moved here about a month ago. He was hoping to take on the project manager job for me, but I told him I’d already hired someone. I’ll call him now and see if he wants to meet.”
Grant makes the call and then grins at me. “Looks like he’s interested. He started a new job already, but he’s far more interested in this one. Problem is, he can only meet
with me tomorrow. I’m sorry this delays our departure.”
“No problem. What do you need me to do?”
“While I’m meeting with my guy, I’d like you to stop by the job site to make sure Fredrick has gotten his shit off my land. If it isn’t gone, call the police.”
“Sounds easy enough. Anything else?”
“You’ll want to survey the property and make a record of anything that seems unusual. Vandalism is my primary concern. If there are any issues with that, take notes and pictures and we’ll take action once I get back to the property. I shouldn’t be long.”
“Sure, that sounds great,” I say, genuinely happy there’s something for me to do here. I was beginning to question the reason for my presence. If I’m able to help and learn, the trip was worth it. “Which hotel are we staying in tonight?”
“I have a suite. You can stay with me.”
I narrow my eyes.
“It’s two bedrooms. I know that might not be ideal, but after all the bullshit here and with the money I’ll need to sink into righting all the delays and rehiring Fredrick caused, I’d like to conserve money.”
“You can’t be serious. You’re conserving money? That’s the best you can do?” I cross my arms, calling him out on his excuse. Grant Lancaster doesn’t need to conserve money. The thought is absurd.
“Okay, that was lame. I’m sorry.”
“Totally lame, Lancaster. I told you on the plane we weren’t going to complicate this trip, and staying with you sounds like one epic complication.” I cross my arms over my chest, waiting for what he’ll throw at me next. Instead of more excuses, his head falls, making him look like a wounded puppy.
“I’m not trying to complicate things, Bridget. I just want you close to me. I know that’s a lot to ask, but please.”
The idea of staying in a room with Grant has my legs shaking nervously. I shouldn’t, but God help me, I want to. “Okay. Let’s just get back. I’m exhausted.”
After I check the property to find Fredrick and his crew completely vacated and no signs of vandalism, my job is done. Grant hasn’t been away from me for more than an hour, securing a new crew. One he trusts to get the job done right. Then he keeps his word.
We are walking down the beautiful beach of St. Barts, taking in the translucent rolling waters and sun-filled aqua skies. The grains of sand beneath our feet blur out for miles. They lull me into a blissful trance of new beginnings and endless tomorrows. I now get why he’d choose this location as home of one of the newest L hotels.