by Ella Brooke
“What makes you think I did something?” Grant demanded.
Tyrese adjusted his glasses. “Because you’re too damn slick to ever have needed to develop real communication skills with women. Also, I’ve seen you talk to women. They’re too busy trying to get you to notice them to notice how awkward you really are.”
“I am not awkward. Women respond to me.”
“They respond to your face and the size of your, ahem, wallet. That’s about it, dude.” Tyrese smirked. “So… You like her.”
“We’ve been friends for a long time. She probably knows me better than anyone.” Grant glanced at his phone fretfully. “That might not be a good thing.”
“Nope.”
“Did you come in today just to bust my ass?”
Tyrese shrugged. “I would. But we have that interview today, remember?”
Grant let out a low groan. Normally, he didn’t mind talking to the press, but lately, they had been trying to poke holes in the SideHustle business plan. Apparently, a host of cranky bloggers had been writing about the terrible living situations of some Uber drivers, including a woman who had continued to take passengers while actively in labor, and now the bloggers were turning on other services designed to help independent contractors find clients.
As if it was Grant’s job to provide what the government and the economy did not, just because he’d found a gap in the market and done a better job of it than any other service.
He hit the intercom to tell his personal assistant to bring Tyrese and him lattes from the machine in the break room and took a few minutes to get the two of them organized before their interrogator came in. This one wasn’t going to be a blogger. Reporting for a major business magazine meant a lot more than the slew of Twittering social justice twits.
***
“I need a shower,” Tyrese declared after the reporter, Dale Kinnear, had left the office.
“If you come up with another way to say ‘we’re not exploiting workers’ while you’re in there, do let me know.” Grant scrolled his eyes over his itinerary for the day and sighed heavily. He had a lunch meeting, as well as a phone conference after lunch. He would have to put his concerns away for a few more hours.
And Kit still hadn’t replied to his email or phone messages. This was deliberate. She’d gotten embarrassed after they’d fooled around at the fundraiser and was waiting for his interest to lag.
She would find out that he wasn’t so easy to deter.
“Michelle?” Grant picked up his suit jacket and put a few things in his briefcase. “I want you to make a few calls while I’m in these meetings.”
He headed out to his lunch meeting with a smile on his face.
***
Gable & Pines was in a tall building, but it was hardly the tallest in San Francisco. It was hardly the nicest building, either. It was functional and pragmatic, with a sparse décor both in the lobby and on the main floor for the office itself. They shared the building with several other businesses, clearly.
It was a change from the SideHustle building. Grant and Tyrese had ensured that their workspace was a happy medium between the playgrounds Google called offices and your standard soul-sucking building. SideHustle’s office had a lot of colorful open spaces and natural light, but also side rooms where the upper level management could focus and have meetings behind closed doors. Additionally, they had included a daycare on the premises, a gym, and a diner on the first floor.
Maybe that was why it bothered Grant so much to be accused of exploiting workers. He had gone quite out of his way to build a company that made the workers’ time at work livable.
Gable & Pines was your standard lawyer’s office. Grant felt the joy being drained from him as he approached the main desk.
“Good afternoon, Katie,” Grant said smoothly to the receptionist after glancing at her nameplate. “I have a meeting with Kit Hardwick.”
“All right. I’ll let her know that you’re here. Could I get your name, please?”
“Grant Wharton.” He smiled widely.
The receptionist’s eyes widened in recognition, and she picked up her phone quickly. “Ms. Hardwick, Grant Wharton is here to see you… No, he says he has a meeting.” She lowered her voice. “Does he? He’s not on the list.”
Grant waited for a moment. Surely, Kit wouldn’t flat out refuse to see him. He hadn’t done anything that wrong, other than perhaps being a bit too easy on Friday night.
After a few more whispers, Katie the receptionist hung up the phone and then gave him directions to Kit’s office. The receptionist’s cheeks were burning red, and she looked quite flustered. Grant leaned over the counter above her desk and thanked her in a deep, silky voice.
She blushed even harder, and he grinned as he walked away.
Kit’s office was a bit far back. That likely signaled that she either wasn’t considered important, or that she was and had been afforded the privilege of being placed away from the hustle and bustle off the office. One look at the cramped space, however, unequivocally told Grant that it was the former.
There was her desk, which took up most of the space, and a file cabinet. The large basket bouquet of gourmet coffees sat unopened in a chair.
Kit glanced up and arched an eyebrow. “Good afternoon, Mr. Wharton. What can I do for you today?”
Grant tilted his head to the side and entered. “Is that how you thank someone?”
He was referring to the basket, of course. She would love it, if she ever tried the coffees.
“Thank you for coming in, Mr. Wharton,” she said a bit flatly. “What can we do for you today?”
Grant rolled his eyes and set the basket on the floor so he could sit down. “I seem to have offended you, and unfortunately, I can’t think what I might have done so wrong.”
“Have you done something wrong? The other people at my office think I’ve bagged a billionaire…as a client. I don’t know what I’ll tell them when you don’t start asking for our legal aid.”
Grant considered that and tilted his head to the side. He picked up the card that he’d asked his assistant to write: I greatly appreciated our conversation Friday night. I hope we can talk again soon.
“I meant for the note to keep our private life private, not to suggest my company would be taking its business from a large professional firm to a mid-to-small sized firm.” Grant paused. “I can see how that might be awkward. But you refused to answer my messages before I sent this gift, which you have to admit you would appreciate more if you weren’t so angry. So tell me why you didn’t respond to my email? Or to my messages?”
“Do you think a working woman has nothing better to do on her weekend than check her emails?”
“Some people don’t check their emails when they aren’t at work. You aren’t one of them.”
“How do you know?” Kit challenged sharply.
“Oh, I know.” Grant rose, walked over to her, and spoke quietly. “What did I do? We were having such a good time when you left.”
Kit shot up, an alarmed expression on her face, and quickly went to shut the door to her office. “Seriously?”
“I’m quite serious. At best, I was flirting, maybe kissing a bit. I made you coffee. You’re the one who took it to a sexual place that night, and what, you never want to talk to me again?” Grant rolled his shoulders back. “Generally, you don’t see women who employ the love ‘em and leave ‘em philosophy.”
“That should be perfect for you, though, shouldn’t it?” Kit hissed. “Why are you coming after me like this at all? Don’t you have billions of other women at your beck and call?”
“Everyone is calling me a slut today. Yes, I date quite a few women. That doesn’t mean I’m not interested in seeing you again.”
“Really? You just want to add me to your harem again?” Kit didn’t move any closer. Her eyes fell slightly to the ground as she spoke.
“No. I want to take you to dinner. I want to spend time with you. We used to have such a good time
together, and I’ve missed you.” Grant tried to get a better look at her expression. “Is that all right, Kit? Could we do that?”
When she didn’t respond, he took a few long strides over to her and touched her chin.
“Hey. Is that okay? Would it be all right with you if we spent some time together?” Grant curved his lips slightly. “No other harem members. Just us.”
Kit looked up, and in the blink of an eye, they were kissing. Her lips pushed against his, and his hand went around to rest protectively on the small of her back. It felt like they were two magnets who, failing to pretend that they were in fact magnets, had just come together. Locking into one another. Heat rising and hearts racing.
She pulled away, her eyes wide and uncertain. “I can’t do this, Grant.”
His stomach dropped to his knees. “Please, Kit? Just one dinner. One night.”
“It can’t be one night. Not for me.”
“Ah.” He reached over and took her fingers lightly into his hand. “Because I was… You chose me to be your….”
“If you can do it, you can say it, buddy.” Kit clicked her tongue. “I don’t regret losing my virginity to you, you know. I wasn’t ‘saving’ it, or anything like that. I never read books that called it ‘giving him your flower,’ or said I should wait for marriage. I just wanted to try it for the first time with someone I trusted.”
She turned away from him to glance out the small window. “But I don’t trust you anymore. I haven’t heard from you in seven years. I wasn’t really sure where we left off, or why. I can’t say you led me on, though. You were always with a ton of girls.”
Grant flattened his lips into a line. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Kit—”
“What’s done is done. But I don’t want, no, I can’t get into this with you if everything stays the same. I’m not a conquest. You’ve been here and done this. Who’s to say you aren’t just going to get bored with me again and disappear?”
He felt a stab of guilt. It had been a long time. And truthfully, he’d really cared about her even then and had only disregarded her as a real possibility because he hadn’t been interested in having relationships. He couldn’t let his past childishness stand in their way now.
“Look, Kit, I can’t promise that everything will be perfect, or that you’ll want to continue dating me beyond a night or two. But you and I have something special. You can feel it when we’re near each other, can’t you? ”
“I don’t just go around offering hand stuff to every potential client, Grant. I’m a lawyer, not a whore.” She pursed her lips. “People trust prostitutes more.”
Grant chuckled. “You don’t have to trust me right away, but please, give me another chance? I wasn’t much of a man seven years ago. Feckless would’ve been a compliment.”
“I was thinking man-whore.”
“Wouldn’t that mean I’m more trustworthy than you?”
A soft smile touched her lips.
Grant drew in a slow breath and reached for her hand again. “I’ll take that as a maybe.”
Chapter Six
Kit
Kit didn’t know what was going to happen with Grant. She didn’t know if their date would go well, or if she could really trust him well enough to get to know him again. But she did know that every time they were in a room together, her body demanded that she respond.
It was unbelievable. She had spent her professional life behaving as though she were a brain in a jar. Grant dismantled every wall she’d put up to protect herself, and he did so without even trying. She could only hope that he had actually grown up and was telling her the truth when he said he wanted to try something real.
That night, she took the coffee bouquet home. It contained a few one pound bags as well as a few single cup samples, so she gave one of the samples a try and settled back into her chair to try to relax. It was hard to even think of anything else when she knew she’d be going out with Grant later this week. Maybe it would’ve taken the pressure off of her to just get the dinner over with, but she had decided to put him off a bit and make him wait for Thursday.
Now, the wait was making her anxious.
The following two days were everything she expected of a day at work. Buck came by semi-frequently to bother her and occasionally prod for information about the man she’d gone off with at the fundraiser. She hadn’t told him much, but the office was quietly buzzing with speculation about The Grant Wharton sending Kit gifts and meeting with her in her office.
She’d been incredibly nervous when Mr. Pines had come by to ask if she thought Grant might be interested in hiring her, but she had told him the truth, or at least part of it: They had gone to high school together.
He had been a bit disappointed, but then launched into a story about a girl from his high school. Kit had survived the awkwardness, and Mr. Pines hadn’t been angry. He had, however, said that if she could get Grant to invest in them, even as a friend, that would be appreciated.
“A man is nothing without connections,” he’d said.
“Good thing I’m a woman,” she’d joked in return.
The old man had laughed pretty loudly and patted her shoulder. He felt a little like a grandfather to her. But not the stuffy kind. That was Mr. Gable. Mr. Pines was more the grandfather that told you stories your parents didn’t want you to hear and taught you swear words.
Getting off work Wednesday evening, Kit didn’t know what to do with herself. Her date with Grant was the next day. She was nervous. More nervous than she wanted to admit. Even though she’d tried to push him away, she really wanted this date to go well.
Not wanting to bother with cooking, Kit swung by Lori’s Diner and slid into one of their retro red leather booths. It was comfortable here, and they were open twenty-four hours. She’d long frequented this place in the morning hours on weekends when she couldn’t sleep.
After her waitress, Pearl, had poured her some coffee, Kit took her phone out and stared at it with something near to hostility. Like it was her enemy. Eventually, she pressed on the contact that she’d put in Monday afternoon before Grant had left and sent him a message.
“Looking forward to tomorrow night. Where are we going?”
He must’ve been eager because his reply came before she could finish doctoring her coffee. “Let it be a surprise.”
Kit rolled her eyes. She hated when guys did that. “Okay,” she replied, typing quickly. “I’ll just wear an old, ratty pair of coveralls from when I painted my apartment.”
She added a few smiling faces at the end.
“You’re funny,” Grant texted back. “Dress nicely. Better than the office but not like you are going to a royal wedding.”
“Fair,” Kit shot back.
She looked up as a man slid into her booth unexpectedly.
“Joe?” She slipped her phone into her purse. “What are you doing here?”
“I was getting dinner, obviously, and I noticed you were here all by yourself.” Joe smiled a little smugly.
Consequently, she wanted to smack him a little. They’d dated a year ago when she’d first started at Gable & Pines. While she had been hesitating to make it more serious, they had been exclusive. Or she had been. He’d been sleeping with the receptionist at her office and telling neither of them about it.
“I just got off work. After a long day of working hard, some people like to have some time to themselves,” she said pointedly.
“I’m sure you don’t have a low supply of that.”
Kit closed her eyes and drank her coffee. Why was diner coffee always so damn smooth? It was a secret she had always wanted the answer to so she could mimic it and have cool, liquid vibrancy in every cup she brought to her lips.
“So how are things? Are you still at that law firm?” Joe pressed.
“Sure am. Got my own office now. Pretty decent caseload, too.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m doing pretty great. I got promoted,” he said proudly.
Kit let him have
that one. He would anyway, and it cost her nothing to fight him. She had to notice that he had also been having dinner alone. Oh, Joe. Always the hypocrite. It had been a hard day when she and Katie had figured out that he was playing them both.
Kit’s phone buzzed, and she glanced at it, smiling at Grant’s assurances that he was looking forward to their date as well. He even admitted to being a bit nervous, but promised that he would make everything worth it.
“Who’s that?” Joe asked.
None of your damn business, Kit thought. But she said, “Just the guy I’m dating.”
Joe laughed. Just laughed. “Well, tell him I said good luck.”
Kit shot daggers at him with her eyes, but the waitress got in the way as she came with Kit’s dinner. She smelled the food and sighed, picking up her knife and fork. The chicken tenders were fried to perfection, and she’d been dreaming about that mac and cheese all day.
Joe was laughing again as she reached for the ketchup.
“What? What is your problem?” Kit snapped.
“Easy, tiger! It’s just that you still eat like a kid. You also eat more than any woman I’ve ever known.”
Kit’s cheeks burned. “A lot of people eat macaroni for dinner.”
“Yeah. Children people.”
The waitress dropped by once more to add a large house salad with cherry tomatoes, cheese, and bacon.
Joe covered his eyes, and his shoulders started to shake.
“You know, you still act like an asshole, but you don’t see me wetting myself over it.” Now her stomach was tensing. She didn’t know if she could eat with him looming over her like this.
“Please. You down a thousand calories at one sitting and drink coffee like it’s water. You’re going to have a heart attack by thirty-five,” Joe said. “If you’re not just a housebound whale.”
“And you fuck like we have a dumbass shortage and you’re trying to repopulate. If you don’t have some kind of disease by now, I’d be utterly shocked,” Kit drawled in reply.
Joe wrinkled his nose. “And you’re still a fucking ice queen. No wonder you’re still single.”