by Avery Laval
“Champagne, Jenna?” Grant held out a flute nearly bubbling over, and she took it, grateful to have something to do with her hands in this room full of observers. He leaned in closer to her and whispered, “We have quite an audience.”
Jenna looked about, saw people quickly shift their eyes away from her as she caught them staring. “Heavens.” It was all she could think of to say. Was she really the most interesting person at this party? “Maybe champagne is exactly what I need.” She swallowed a great gulp of the effervescent liquid. “Good old Las Vegas society. Funny how I never saw most of these people in the months after my parents died. But it’s really for the best. My new life doesn’t have much society to it, and I hardly miss it at all.” Jenna punctuated this with another sip. The champagne was nice, dry, and the bubbles filled her head so pleasantly.
“Your new life?” Grant spoke the words like a question.
“Well, sometimes it does seem like when I lost my parents, I was given a new start,” Jenna answered, surprising herself with her own forthcomingness. “Though I didn’t see it that way at first, of course. I was grieving, and then, so much changed after…” She fumbled for a tactful phrase. “After the company changed hands.”
“You mean after I stole it out from under you, don’t you?” he asked with an edge.
Jenna paused, wondering if she should feel sheepish that he could read her mind so easily. But it was the truth. “What happened during that time changed my life, forever.”
“I’m sorry to hear it.” He was dismissive, and she shook her head at his words. She had to make him see that she didn’t want his sympathy. She pressed on with her explanation.
“Don’t be. It changed for the better.” As soon as she’d said that, she thought of her brother and added, “For me, at least. I grew up a lot, became more responsible, learned to be careful with money.”
“Because you had to be.”
“Well, yes. But also because the hotel suites, the clothes, the ski trips with people who seemed to be my friends but were only using me—those things didn’t make me happy.”
“Not even the shoes?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Not even the shoes!” she said, laughing. “Although honestly, I did love those shoes.” She paused, let the smile on her face fade. “But the shoes didn’t love me back. When I lost two-thirds of my family, suddenly nothing became more important to me than the brother I had left. He was all I had.”
When she looked up, she saw that Grant was concentrating on her intensely. The way he listened to her, and seemed to chew on her words with such care, made her realize how long she’d gone without really confiding in anyone. Sure, her brother would try to listen when she talked, but so many times in the beginning it was as if he wasn’t hearing her. Those were the days when he would get lost inside himself. And though he was feeling better now, she had gotten used to keeping all her feelings and problems sealed inside.
And now, she was letting them spill over to the most unlikely listener on earth. What was she thinking?
“And you? Do you have any family?” she asked, in the hopes of turning the focus from herself.
Jenna watched as Grant batted the question around behind his ink-colored eyes for a few moments. When he at last opened his mouth to speak, she expected some great revelation, words that would make sense of this man, explain how he could be so passionate and so ruthless at the same time. Instead, he said in a harsh voice, “You’ve drained your champagne.”
She looked down at her glass. “That’s odd. I haven’t tasted the stuff for years—gave up partying quite happily long ago. Maybe I missed the sweet-dry flavor, the bubbles.” Or the light, floaty feeling that it brought. A feeling that distracted her from the intensity of Grant’s gaze.
As she spoke, Grant reached over to where a waiter was passing by with a tray of full glasses and plucked one off to hand to Jenna. She paused for a moment, then reached out to take it. Just tonight, she rationalized, a second glass of champagne wouldn’t hurt. Justin was safe, she was safe, and it seemed that she’d done well enough at work so far to still have her job tomorrow. And besides, the sharks that filled the hotel ballroom hadn’t even swum close to her yet, much less attacked.
But as soon as she thought that, two people headed straight for them, a tall, dark-haired man and a smaller, very beautiful woman, her hair just as dark as her friend’s, with curls bouncing around her face as she came closer. Jenna remembered her vaguely from the private boarding school she’d attended, though she hadn’t run in her circles. Back then she’d thought the other woman a little antisocial. Now Jenna saw the elegant way she carried herself and felt a twinge of jealousy.
“Grant Blakely, you handsome devil, you,” the woman said in a bright, lilting accent as they approached. “Who is this new fox on your arm?”
Jenna’s hackles rose. She was on no one’s arm, least of all Grant Blakely’s.
“Marissa, you look absolutely lovely tonight. And Madden,” he grunted amiably to the man, who was nearly as tall as Grant was, fairly towering above both women, “you seem presentable as well. May I present my new colleague, Jenna McCormick?”
“Why, of course. Jenna McCormick!” exclaimed Marissa Madden, whom Jenna remembered quite clearly now. “You look terrific. I haven’t seen you in years. And of course, that explains why you’re with Grant. And here I thought you were his flavor of the week, shipped in from Houston or Dallas or wherever he finds his leggy models. Can you forgive me?”
Jenna had to laugh at Marissa’s easy confidence. “I can hardly be offended. The tabloid sites make his models look quite lovely.”
“Ah, that’s because you can’t hear their voices,” cut in the man, who, Jenna had pieced together from her recollections, was Marissa’s older brother. “All high-pitched and always demanding more jewels.” Jenna blushed, thinking of the clear delight she’d shown in the earrings Grant had presented her, and the shopping trip, too. Was that how Grant saw her? She would hate it if he did. “Whereas your voice—as I remember from a prep-school talent show my sister was also featured in—is gorgeous.”
She felt her pale skin grow rosy and wished she could keep her cool the way she’d used to. “I’m embarrassed that you had to hear me sing…what was that song? Oh, right—‘Wind Beneath My Wings.’” Jenna smiled and shook her head at the memory. “But it is nice to see you both again, Marissa and…” she fumbled for his name, came up empty.
“Knox,” said the man helpfully, extending his hand. “Knox Madden, big brother of Marissa and all-around bodyguard. Not to mention Grant’s conscience, when he needs one.”
“That can’t be very often!” exclaimed Jenna, before she knew what she was saying. Goodness. Was the fresh glass of champagne in her hand already half empty? Where had it all gone to?
Luckily, everyone laughed at her remark, even the butt of the joke himself. The butt of the joke with his sensational butt…
Oh my. She really had to stop drinking. She lowered her glass to the side.
“You have a little brother, don’t you?” Knox asked. “Much younger—I would have coached him on the soccer team?”
Jenna smiled to think of Justin when he was so young and happy. “Yes, Justin. He’s nineteen now.”
“How is he?”
“Very well,” she said, glad she could say the words with complete honesty. “Thank you.”
“Good to hear. Tell him I said hello,” Knox’s voice was light and Jenna noted the contrast between his boyish manner and Grant’s more adult demeanor. “Now if I might steer Grant over to the Baxters over there? They’re remodeling all their locations, and I see an opportunity for a specialty case of McCormick Jewels in each store. Constructed by Madden Building, of course,” he added with a wink. “We’ll leave the school chums to catch up on old times.”
Grant and Knox walked away, Grant touching Jenna’s arm ever so slightly as he moved off, as if to say he’d be back, or that he wanted to finish their talk, or… she w
asn’t sure, but the hairs on her arm stood at the gesture. A shiver ran through her at the sight of Grant’s square shoulders moving through the crowd, and she turned her attention to Marissa, hoping the other woman hadn’t noticed the way she’d watched him go.
But it seemed she had. Marissa’s left eyebrow was cocked just the tiniest bit, like a question mark on her smooth, open face. She didn’t say a word about it—didn’t have to. Instead, she put her arm through Jenna’s so casually, as if they’d been friends for a lifetime, and said, “Ignore the boys. They’re adorable, truly, but how they love to think we shudder under their authority.” Marissa shook her head, as if the idea of her brother having authority was too ridiculous for words. “Of course, in reality we run the show. After all, they have our last names on their companies for a reason,” she added with a big grin.
Jenna smiled warmly, couldn’t resist Marissa’s openness. “Oh, how I wish it were so!” she confided. “In truth, I’m not the driving force behind the company at all. Grant is. I’m just his new personal assistant.”
This time Marissa’s brows shot up all the way, unable to hide her surprise. But then she caught herself, smiled even more widely, if it was possible. “I see,” she said, as though she were in on some great secret of Jenna’s. “How very brilliant of you. Let him think he runs the company, right? When little does he know you’ll soon be pulling the strings.” Jenna looked at Marissa, shocked, and opened her mouth to correct her—only to realize that she was just being teased. “You couldn’t ask for a better boss,” Marissa went on. “He’s brilliant, you know, and absolutely loses himself in his work—that sort of enthusiasm can be just contagious. His last assistant practically had to be shoved out the door when he was accepted to Harvard Business School.”
“His last assistant went on to Harvard?” asked Jenna.
“Oh, yes. Grant doesn’t like it to be well known, but he’s actually quite a supportive, caring person from time to time.” The words echoed through Jenna’s head. They seemed to confirm her suspicion that there was more to Grant Blakely than she’d first thought. “Of course, you wouldn’t be able to tell from the way he treated you…” Marissa trailed off, realizing she’d strayed into dangerous territory. “I’m sorry. This is none of my business.”
“No, no,” said Jenna. “I made such a show of things back then, they became everyone’s business. Going back to Grant for a job was excruciating.”
Marissa nodded. “And yet you survived and here you are, successfully employed. Your father would be very proud, I’m sure, to know you’re back at work at McCormick Jewels.”
The words washed over Jenna and she filled with pride. Yes, her father had hoped she would one day run the company, but she was doing the best she could short of that. This week she’d worked the hardest she’d ever worked in her life. Wouldn’t that have made him proud?
“Thank you, Marissa. That’s really kind of you,” she said. “I’m sorry I haven’t seen you for six years—you’re exactly the sort of person I would have liked in my life during that time.”
“Easily correctable!” Marissa exclaimed, whipping out her phone and handing it to Jenna to put her number in. “And especially if you plan to be spending much more time with Grant. He’s one of Knox’s boys, you see, so there’ll be no getting rid of us.”
Jenna thought this last bit over as she entered digits into Marissa’s phone. “That,” she said at last, “would be the silver lining on an otherwise dark cloud.” But even as she spoke the words, she heard a different truth inside her heart. Though she couldn’t explain it, there was no denying the powerful yearning to know Grant better. She thought back to the time before everything had gone wrong, back when she’d idolized him as her father’s right-hand man. All at once she remembered the rush of feeling that would come every time she had an excuse to visit the office or see him at some function or other. Then she thought of how he’d thoughtfully lent her the beautiful earrings tonight, and the way he’d listened so intently when she spoke, and her heart felt a little tighter in her chest. Without her wanting it to, the bitterness of the last six years was melting away, and she was powerless to stop it.
But how she wished she could. For without the anger protecting her heart from the connection she felt to Grant, she was completely vulnerable. And the thought of being vulnerable to man as ruthless as Grant Blakely terrified her.
Grant could feel his resistance slipping. How could he help but notice the way Jenna maneuvered her way through each social situation with ease, winning over every person she met with her bright smile? She needed no help from a pair of diamond earrings to sparkle in the crowd.
But she’d been all too happy to accept them, he reminded himself sternly. She might have looked intriguing—enchanting, even—as she moved through the crowds of socialites in her skimming blue-gray dress, but underneath the charm and expensive clothing, he had to remember that he didn’t know who she really was. She might yet be a gold-digger, intent on worming her way into his life, and back into the company. He couldn’t let that happen.
It was his duty to his employees, each one handpicked from all over the world to be the best at what they did. He’d never risk the security he’d offered them when they came to work at his company. It would be a betrayal he wouldn’t abide.
A betrayal he’d known before. He thought of the one man who had taught him so much about business and life. The man who’d hired him away from a great company just one year out of B-school, and gotten him to bring his three best friends along, Knox Madden among them. Just six months in, it had become all too clear that the promises they’d been made were too good to be true. They’d been wooed away from real opportunities for a shell operation, nothing more than a front run by a schemer and con artist—and Grant’s father.
It had been the hardest decision Grant had ever made, but he’d turned all the real paperwork over to the SEC, and watched, disillusioned and heartsick, as he sent his own father to jail for investor fraud. That had been the day everything fell apart. The bonuses disappeared, long-overdue paychecks never materialized, even their office furniture was repossessed. He’d lured his best friends into a scam that had left them unemployed, broke, and with nothing but a disgraced joke on their résumés.
They’d all recovered, of course. They were smart, powerful men to the last. Hell, Colin Michaels was as good as running half of New York by now, and Knox’s company had a hand in every prestigious building gig on the Strip. But the guilt of what Grant had done to his friends, and what he’d had to do to his father, was crippling. It had taught him much about the mistake of trusting people who didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t a mistake he’d make again.
Certainly not with a brunette beauty whose own father had had his fair share of rash dealings. This apple, he was sure, had fallen quite close to the tree. Experience had taught Grant that no one could be as brave or as brazen as Jenna McCormick and not have some kind of payoff glimmering in her eyes.
But even as Grant reminded himself of these incontrovertible facts, he felt a twinge of regret. There was something so singular about her. If she were any other woman in the world, he would make her his in an instant. Even suspecting her motives, he’d been hard-pressed to resist her when she’d looked into his eyes like he was the only man on earth and told him about how much her life had changed. For a brief, heady moment, he’d been willing to throw all sense to the wind just to have her.
And he knew she felt the same way. There was no question that beneath her machinations, she wanted him. She couldn’t hide her attraction—he’d caught her watching him out of the corner of her eyes as she moved around the room more than once. The desire in her eyes was real.
Grant moved his stare to where she stood now, just a foot away from him talking to an older man who looked at her as though she were his own child, and not the daughter of a man he’d played golf with years ago. She was stunning. It was a good thing he had an iron will.
He summoned it now, and broke int
o the conversation. “I hate to interrupt, but the evening has flown. It’s nearly eleven. Maybe we should think about calling it a night.”
Jenna turned her open smile on him. “Oh, I’m so glad you told me. Mitchell and I were losing ourselves in nostalgia, weren’t we?”
Mitch Goldman beamed in response, looking gleeful to have such a beautiful woman’s full attention. “We have, but the man’s right. With your brand new job, you can’t be going in tired tomorrow and making a bad impression on the boss. I’ve heard he can be quite tough, eh, Blakely?” He gave a jovial laugh.
“Quite,” said Grant, locking eyes with Jenna.
“Before you go,” cut in the older man, missing the tension that sizzled between Grant and Jenna, “I think we should drink a toast to Jenna’s new position.” He waved down a waiter, pushed another glass of champagne into her hand. Grant watched her hesitation as she picked up the glass. Was this refill number two? He suspected she was wondering the exact same thing.
“To getting the McCormick back into McCormick Jewels!” Goldman bellowed joyously. “What a happy occasion.” He took a long drink, and Jenna matched it with what seemed more like trepidation than celebration.
“Thank you, Mitchell. You’re terribly sweet, you know.” Already her voice sounded thicker.
Grant shook Mitchell’s hand goodbye and then pressed his hand into the small of Jenna’s back, ignoring the frisson of electricity the gesture created. “And now I believe we were leaving?”
She left a quick kiss good-bye on the older man’s cheek, then turned to face Grant, one eyebrow raised. “If we must. It’s a school night, after all.” She shot him a sly look, one a teacher would give a naughty schoolboy. If the teacher had had a few glasses of champagne. Grant groaned inwardly. She was making his task awfully difficult.