“That was amazing,” she said when she finally broke from him.
They finished washing in the hot water and climbed out, Grant wrapping Desiree in a large towel.
“Your mind clear?”
“My mind is mush,” she laughed, playfully slapping his chest. “Now about that bacon…”
Chapter Four
Catherine Crawford was still stewing over yesterday’s conversation with Grant. She had been assured that all would be handled, but she still felt uneasy. Everything she had done in her life was for the benefit of her family, her husband, the Crawford name. She would be damned if that stopped now. She knew how people saw her: the designer dresses, the perfectly coiffed hair and manicured nails, the luncheons and dinner parties. She was a trophy and she had learned to live with that. All well-bred Southern women had their roles, and this was hers.
Catherine grew up in an upper middle class family in Delta, a town neighboring Crawford’s Corners. Her father, Richard, was a loan officer at the town bank and her mother Helen was a homemaker. When Catherine was seventeen, her parents hosted a dinner party for some of her father’s more high profile clients. It was here that she met her future father-in-law, Carlton Crawford. He had been very impressed with her manners, her beauty, and her proper Southern upbringing. Carlton and her father had their heads together most of the evening and the next day, Catherine was told she would be introduced to Carlton’s son, Mason.
At nineteen, Mason was already working for this father and showing great business acumen. He was handsome, confident (if a bit cocky), and well-mannered. At first, Mason hadn’t shown much interest past being polite, but he softened, and within a year he and Catherine were married. He wasn’t an attentive husband, always busy with work, but he was pleasant enough and he gave Catherine anything and everything she wanted. One year after they were married, Catherine gave birth to Grant, who due to complications during the delivery, would be their only child. Grant was a beautiful baby and Mason was over the moon for his son. Giving him a male heir also raised Catherine’s stock in Mason’s eyes and he showed her much more affection after his birth.
Catherine’s reverie was interrupted by the chatter from around the breakfast table. She raised the Bloody Mary to her lips and took a long pull, looking around the table at her friends, the other society ladies, gathered around her. They gossiped about who was earning more, who was earning less, who was having an affair, whose children were no good, and whose were following in the family footsteps. Finally the conversation turned to the one thing she had hoped it wouldn’t. Desiree Palmer.
“I wonder what she’s going to do with the house,” one woman said.
“Probably sell it and run off back up north with all the money,” another answered.
“What do you think, Catherine?” Margaret Devereaux asked from across the table.
“What do I think about what?” Catherine asked, all conversation pausing to hear her opinion.
“What do you think Desiree Palmer is going to do with the house?”
“Well I’m sure that I don’t know. It’s only been two weeks, I’m sure the girl has plenty on her plate,” she answered, careful not to give away her emotions on the subject.
“Bonnie Brett’s nephew drives a tow-truck and he told her that he picked up Grant’s Ferrari over at Palmer Manor just the other day,” Felicia Thompson said, her green eyes twinkling mischievously amid coughs and clearing throats around the table.
Catherine shot the slightly younger woman daggers. “Nothing to call the papers about, Felicia, Grant’s car simply needed some repairs. He happened to be at Palmer Manor delivering some business papers,” she said evenly, though inside she was seething. How dare this twit bring up her family business? She clearly did not know this group’s protocol.
The waiter came then, dispersing the tension at the table and taking the women’s breakfast orders. Catherine excused herself from the table, claiming she had lost her appetite, and headed back to her suite to sulk. Once safely inside, she marched straight to the bar and poured herself a glass of vodka, downing it in one gulp. She had to do something about Desiree Palmer, and fast.
Desiree and Grant sat at the large formal dining table with glasses of sweet tea and a reheated casserole from the freezer.
“I really need to go grocery shopping,” Desiree said, picking the food apart with her fork.
“You should grab stuff to make your famous peach cobbler,” Grant said.
“My ‘famous peach cobbler’ only comes out over Labor Day,” Desiree reminded him.
“I know,” he said pointedly, holding her gaze for a moment before looking back down at his plate.
Desiree put her fork down and sighed. She knew what Grant was asking but didn’t have the answer right now.
“I just figured-” Grant started.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Grant,” Desiree said. “Two weeks ago, I was living my life in Chicago. Now there’s the house, the money, and this thing with Destiny. And you. None of this was in my plans. I’ll admit, I don’t know what I thought would happen after Grandfather’s death, but it wasn’t this.”
“So once you get your answers about Destiny’s death, you’re just going to…what? Leave?” Grant sat back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Like it or not Desiree, this is your home. This house was built by your family.”
“And this town was built by yours,” she reminded him. “And I’m pretty sure they don’t want me here. I mean, if kicking you out of the house and cutting you off is any indication…”
“Fine. Then I’ll come to Chicago with you when this is all over,” Grant said.
“Grant-” Desiree started.
“Grant what? I thought we were rebuilding something here, Desi. I mean, what the hell are we doing,” Grant asked.
Desiree sat back in her chair and ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m just really overwhelmed right now, Grant. I thought I’d come down here, see my grandfather, bury him, and leave the rest to the lawyers. Maybe I’d sell the house after I got back to Chicago. Shit, I told my boss they day I left that I’d be back in two weeks. I didn’t count on everything else that’s happened since. Especially you.”
“Well your two weeks are up,” Grant said, pushing back from the table and leaving the room.
“That’s not fair,” she said to his retreating figure. She heard the screen door on the back porch slam shut and got up to clear the dishes from the table. Maybe he was right. Maybe she did need to figure out what her next move was. She had already resigned her job and she had more money now than she’d ever need. She had no interest in the mill, but with Atlanta only an hour away, she could resume her work there. Maybe start her own business.
In truth, she did love this house and couldn’t bear the thought of selling it, especially not now when it held all that was left of her family. And there was Grant. He had been her high school sweetheart and they seemed to have picked up where they’d left off before his father had blackmailed him into leaving her. But there was still that. How long could or would Grant go without contact with his family? How long would he be able to live without the luxuries he’d known his whole life? She didn’t doubt his feelings for her, but she couldn’t very well expect him to give up everything for her. Could she?
Desiree finished rinsing the dishes in the sink and walked to the back door. Grant was sitting on the steps of the porch, staring out over the back of the property. She opened the screen door and came to sit beside him. She could see the hurt etched on his face and in the way his jaw was set. She put her head on his shoulder and looped her arm through his.
“Look, I don’t know exactly what is going to happen next but I do know that I’m not counting anything out. I quit my job the other day. I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t sure exactly what it meant at the time, but I’m sure now that I need to stay here. At least until I find out what happened to my sister. And the rest we can figur
e out together.”
Grant’s shoulders relaxed and he rested his cheek against the top of her head. “There’s been so much wasted time, Desi. I just don’t want to lose any more of it.”
“I know, me neither,” she agreed. She raised her head to give him a quick kiss on the lips and they heard a car approach from the front of the house.
“You expecting anyone?” Grant asked, rising from the steps and helping her up.
“Not that I’m aware of.” She walked back through the house toward the foyer. She reached the front entry and opened the door to find Mason Crawford standing on the other side.
Chapter Five
“Hello, Miss Palmer,” he said coolly.
“Mr. Crawford,” she responded, stepping aside so that he had room to enter the house.
Grant came through the doorway from the kitchen, stopping in his tracks and staring suspiciously at his father.
“Dad, what are you doing here?”
“I’d rather talk in private, if Miss Palmer doesn’t mind.”
“Anything you have to say, you can say in front of Desiree,” Grant told him. “I won’t keep secrets from her anymore.”
“Really, Grant, it’s fine.” she did not want to be in the middle of his family dispute.
“No, it’s not,” he answered. “It’s already cost us seven years. Now, dad, what is it you came to say?”
Mason Crawford was visibly irritated by his son’s refusal to bend but nonetheless spoke in a calm tone. “Your mother wants you to come home Grant,” he said.
“Really? Why didn’t she tell me that when I talked to her yesterday,” Grant asked his father.
“You know how your mother is, Grant. She keeps her emotions close, not wanting to be an imposition. I spoke with her last night and she told me her wishes,” Mason replied.
“And you?” Grant asked. “Because you made it perfectly clear that if I chose to reunite with Desiree, I was out of the family.”
Mason shot a quick glance at Desiree, looking momentarily surprised that Grant had shared that information with her. Clearing his throat he asked, “Son, can we please discuss this in private?”
Desiree stepped away from the wall where she had been leaning, “I’ll give you two some time to talk,” she said and went into the study.
“Is this really about mother?” Grant asked. “Or is this about you trying to save face with the town gossips?”
“Grant think about what you are doing,” Mason said. “You are the sole heir to the Crawford fortune. Whether you like it or not, you have obligations to this family and to the businesses we’ve built.”
“Well, dad, whether you like it or not, I have obligations to Desiree,” Grant shot back. “I love her, I have always loved her and I’m not letting her go again. No matter what you say or do to me, I’m not walking away this time. If you want me back with the family, she’s part of the deal. It’s been seven years, dad. No one gives a shit about the so-called scandal anymore.”
“Apparently she does,” Mason said angrily, pointing toward the study where Desiree was.
“So that’s what this is about. Mother called you and told you I asked her some questions about her being seen with Desi’s sister the day she killed herself.”
“And it upset her very much,” Mason said. “You know how sensitive your mother is, how hard she works to preserve the family name. She doesn’t want it dragged into this, this…whatever it is.”
“Desiree is just trying to find out what happened to her sister,” Grant said.
“She woke up one day and decided to take too many pills,” Mason said. “What’s there to figure out?”
“Jesus, dad. Keep your voice down,” Grant admonished. “Don’t you have any compassion at all? They were twins, best friends, and Desi feels guilty that she never knew until now how much trouble Destiny was in.”
Mason stopped pacing the hall and settled his gaze on Grant. “Trouble? What sort of trouble?”
“I’ve already said too much,” Grant said. “It’s not my business to share. She’s going to look until she finds out why her sister killed herself, and I’m going to help her.”
When Grant walked back into the study, Desiree was on the phone. “Yes, Destiny. D-E-S-T-I-N-Y. Palmer. Yes, thank you,” she said, hanging up the phone and turning to face Grant. “You ok?”
“I’m fine,” he answered.
“You work things out with your dad?”
“There’s nothing to work out,” he replied and changed the subject. “What was that about?” he asked pointing to the phone on the desk.
“I called the coroner’s office in Atlanta where my grandfather had Destiny’s body sent. I asked for a copy of the autopsy report,” Desiree said.
“Are you sure you want to read through all of that?” Grant asked. “I mean, we know how she died, it might be pretty upsetting to know all of the particulars.”
“I know. My grandfather tried to shield me from as much as he could when it happened. I just feel like I need to see it, to know for sure what happened. They’ll have the copy ready for me tomorrow. Will you come with me?”
“Of course,” Grant said. “I’m behind you one hundred percent, whatever you need.”
Desiree sank into the chair behind the massive mahogany desk and propped her elbows on top. “Are you sure you want to do this? Walk away from your family for me when I don’t even know what my next move is?” she asked.
“You said yourself, we’ll figure out the next move together. I’ve let seven years go by without you and I’m not willing to waste one more minute,” he assured her.
The two of them sat quietly for several minutes, watching the sun start to fade through the large window. The trees cast dancing shadows on the ground and the first crickets of the early evening started to sing. Desiree went to the kitchen to fetch them a couple beers and they headed out to the front porch. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the top step, taking long pulls from their bottles and talking about more pleasant memories. They kissed and cuddled like the teenagers they had once been, completely unaware of being watched from the shadows.
Chapter Six
The next morning Desiree showered and dressed early, going down to the kitchen to start breakfast while Grant slept. She wanted to get an early start on the day, but if Grant’s head felt anything like hers after all the beers they’d had on the porch the night before, she would let him sleep. She looked through the refrigerator at the meager supplies she had and settled on scrambled eggs and toast. She would need to get to the grocery store today if they were to stay fed. As Desiree set about starting a pot of coffee, she thought about the day ahead of her.
She and Grant were going to Atlanta today to pick up Destiny’s autopsy report. She didn’t know what exactly she was looking for, but she felt she had to see it. She overheard Grant’s father last night and part of her wondered if he was right. Destiny had driven to the lake, taken a handful of pills, and died. When group of teenagers from Delta found her, she was already gone. There had been no evidence that it was anything other than a routine suicide, except for the lack of a note, which the police said wasn’t always a given. Maybe she should just let her sister rest in peace.
Grant came down the steps and into the kitchen as she was finishing the eggs. He wore only a pair of jeans, his hair still damp from the shower, and Desiree’s blood stirred. She rose up onto her toes to plant a quick kiss on his lips.
“Morning,” she said. “How’s your head?”
“Feels like the high school marching band is holding practice between my ears,” Grant replied, rubbing his temples.
Desiree motioned for him to sit at the table and brought him a plate of eggs, toast and a cup of coffee.
“Careful, you’re going to spoil me,” he said, mouth watering at the smell of the food.
“You keep walking around all shirtless and barefoot and you’ll get just about anything you want out of me,” she responded playfully.
“I’ll kee
p that in mind,” Grant said around a mouthful of eggs. “Speaking of my wardrobe choices, they’re getting pretty sparse. Maybe we can stop while we’re in Atlanta to get some clothes. Otherwise, this might be my permanent look.”
“You’d get no complaints from me,” Desiree said with a wink.
Turning more serious, Grant looked over the table at Desiree. “You sure you still want to look at the report? We could just go have a day out on the town,” he offered.
“I think I just need to do this. Maybe after I have actual confirmation of everything, I can start to let it go,” she replied. “And we can get to figuring out what comes next.”
They finished their breakfast and Desiree cleared the dishes while Grant ran upstairs to finish dressing. They climbed into Desiree’s Jaguar and started the hour-long drive into Atlanta.
“I should probably pick up a paper while we’re there and start looking for a job,” Grant said as they drove.
“Grant, I have more money than I’ll ever be able to spend. Why don’t you just relax for a bit, maybe this whole thing with your family will blow over.”
“No, absolutely not,” Grant replied. “I will not live off of you, Desi. I have a business degree and a lot of experience. I can find something on my own. Besides, I have some saved up that will get me what I need until I can get a job.”
Desiree looked at him out of the corner of her eye as she drove. She could see by the stubborn set of his jaw how much it bothered him not to be the “provider.” One of the things she had always loved about Grant was his sense of what it was to be a “man.” Although Desiree’s life had taken her down the path of the independent woman, she had always desired tradition, no matter how out of date it may be. She admired how Grant wouldn’t live off of her money, how he still felt he needed to take care of her.
The hour passed quickly with conversation about what they would do in the city. Lunch, shopping, a much-needed trip to the grocery store, anything to keep Desiree’s mind off of their first stop. When she pulled into the parking lot of the Atlanta Office of the Medical Examiner, she waited a few beats before turning off the engine. Grant came around to the driver’s side and opened her door for her, holding out his hand to help her from the car. She grabbed onto his arm and held on as they walked into the building.
BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: The Unforgettable Southern Billionaires: The Complete Collection Boxed Set (Young Adult Rich Alpha Male Billionaire Romance) Page 5