Don’t chill the Dom until the day before you plan to drink it. The extra flute is for your grandmother. I look forward to meeting her.
N.
The thought of Grandmillie and Nathan face-to-face made her sit down hard in a dining room chair. She didn’t want to introduce Nathan to her grandmother, like a single mother who didn’t let her boyfriend meet her child until she thought it might be serious. As realistic as Grandmillie usually was, she had a blind spot about Chloe. She would see no reason why a billionaire entrepreneur shouldn’t fall madly in love with her granddaughter. Chloe didn’t want Grandmillie to be disappointed when Nathan went on to a woman more suited to his status.
So she would just keep her worlds separate. That shouldn’t be too hard for the short period of time Nathan’s interest would last.
Chloe picked up one of the flutes and flicked her fingernail against it, making the fine crystal emit a pure, high note. “Well, we can use the third flute when we break the second one.”
She put the flute back in the box and stowed the whole case away in the kitchen. Then she retrieved the lupines from their precarious perch and pushed aside a pile of magazines on the coffee table to set them there. The magazines cascaded onto the floor.
Kneeling to pick them up, Chloe noticed that one wouldn’t stack neatly because a folder of some sort was wedged inside it. She pulled it out and sat back on her heels when she saw the embossed white writing: Crestmont Village, the assisted-living facility.
“How on earth did that get in here?” She flipped it open and dropped the magazines back on the floor. A letter dated only ten days ago was tucked into the folder.
Dear Mrs. Russell,
Thank you for your inquiry about our elder-care facility. We have enclosed the information you requested about availability of . . .
Chloe stopped reading. Why would Grandmillie request information from Crestmont Village? Other than their discussion about Chloe going on the date last night, everything had been fine. In fact, Grandmillie had been indignant about having Cavill’s emergency contact numbers foisted on her when Chloe spent the night away.
Chloe riffled through the sheets of paper in the folder. There was a multipage application form with its blanks still empty. She breathed a sigh of relief. If her grandmother were serious, she would have filled the form out and sent it in; Grandmillie didn’t mess around once her mind was made up to do something.
Chloe gathered up the magazines again, leaving the folder on top of them this time. She intended to find out what her grandmother was plotting.
In the meantime, she had a phone call to make.
Nathan did a kick turn and knifed through the water again. He was doing three more laps if it killed him.
Of course, Ben claimed it would.
But he needed to work off the sexual haze that had enveloped him ever since the first time he touched Chloe. He’d been blaming his lack of focus on the flu, but it was caused by something more difficult to cure.
He couldn’t even swim without imagining how he would make love to her in the lap pool. He pictured her breasts glistening with drops of water that he would lick off her peaked nipples. She would wrap her fingers around his cock and stroke him hard under the surface. He would lay her back to float on the water before he spread her thighs and held her open while he buried himself inside her.
He nearly swallowed a mouthful of water as a groan of arousal tore itself from his throat. His erection was not helping his aquadynamics either.
Hitting the opposite wall of the pool, he kick-turned again and forced himself to concentrate on the Prometheus project, figuring that would be the most effective buzzkill. However, it just reminded him of Chloe’s advice to pitch in on the project himself.
How the hell had she gotten so embedded in every aspect of his life so fast?
The question didn’t unsettle him as much as he expected it to. If Chloe was taking up all his attention, it wasn’t because she demanded it. He discovered that giving his attention freely was surprisingly pleasurable.
Sending the gifts to her this morning had been pure fun as he’d tried to decide what her reaction would be when she saw Oskar at the door holding the lupines. When she opened the box of Dom, would she frown in disapproval at the cost or enjoy the treat?
The line about meeting her grandmother had come from his pen without thought, yet he had meant it. He was curious about the woman Chloe was so devoted to.
He finished the final lap and hoisted himself out of the pool with shaking arms, collapsing onto his back on the tile floor and heaving in great gulps of oxygen. Thank God Ben wasn’t here to see him gasping like a dying fish.
As his breathing settled into a more normal rhythm, he went back to solving his newest problem. He grudgingly admired Chloe’s refusal to take payment for her trip to the wedding with him, but he knew she needed the money. He just couldn’t figure out a way to offer it that she would accept.
He’d gotten around Ben’s reluctance to accept Nathan’s donations for his free medical clinic by setting up a foundation using a front man. Ben had no idea the money flowed from Nathan. However, that wouldn’t work for Chloe, since she didn’t have 501(c)(3) status. He grimaced. Chloe would be horrified to know he’d considered her in the same thought as a charity.
His cell phone rang and he vaulted to his feet to swipe it off the marble-topped table by the pool. Dropping into a nearby chair, he checked the caller ID. The laps had just been a way to kill time until this call came through.
He answered with the word he’d been waiting to say all morning. “Chloe.”
“Nathan.” Her tone held a smile and a touch of mockery. “You knew I’d call.”
“Your manners are always impeccable.”
She laughed. “Well, that’s not true, but when someone sends me a wonderful gift, I like to say thank you.”
“The gift was our time together last night. What I sent this morning was my thank-you.”
“Very smooth.” Her voice softened. “The lupines are lovely, and you know I’ll enjoy the champagne in those elegant flutes. Every time I use them, I’ll remember where they came from.”
There was a strange wistfulness in her tone that bothered him. “We’ll use them together.”
“Of course.” Her words lacked conviction.
“Chloe, is something wrong?”
“How could anything be wrong when I’m sitting in front of a vase of gorgeous flowers with two bottles of Dom Pérignon stashed in my cupboard? Not in the refrigerator. And there’s still plenty of chocolate left.” She paused. When she spoke again, her voice was low and uncertain. “There is one thing missing.”
He tensed. What omission was so glaring that she would mention it? “Tell me.”
“It would be better if you were here too.”
A sudden restlessness brought him out of the chair to pace over the tiles. “I was thinking the same thing. In fact, I was picturing you swimming with me here in my lap pool. Naked.” Her little intake of breath made his groin tighten.
“Should you be swimming so soon after the flu?” she asked, her voice quivering the tiniest bit.
“I exerted myself far more last night.”
“Good point. But maybe that means you should rest today.”
“There’s no rest for the wicked, and I’ve been thinking nothing but wicked thoughts about you since last night. Would you like to hear some of them?”
She choked, whether on a laugh or a gasp, he couldn’t tell. “No phone sex. Grandmillie will be home from church any minute now.”
“How would she know what I’m saying?”
“I’m pretty sure it would show on my face.”
“You do have an expression of wanton bliss when I touch you in certain places.” Teasing Chloe was better than phone sex. He was sure she was blushing now.
“Wanton bliss?” she huffed. “You have an expression of drooling lust when I touch you in certain places.”
He chuckl
ed. “I don’t drool.”
“You do. And you snore too.”
“We haven’t actually slept together, so how would you know?”
“I slept beside you the whole night when you were sick.”
“Not a fair test. Sleep with me again, and I’ll prove I only snore when under the influence of germs.”
She sighed. “That would be nice. Oh, the Lombardis’ car just pulled up in front of the house. I’ve got to go. Thank you again, Nathan. You’re so . . . everything is just . . . so amazing. ’Bye.”
She hung up before he could answer her. He suspected it was because she didn’t want him to hear the tears in her voice, but he had.
He dropped his phone on the table and grabbed his towel, rubbing it hard over his nearly dry hair and chest.
What the hell had he done to make her cry?
CHAPTER 17
“Still in your pajamas, I see,” Grandmillie said as Chloe opened the front door. She’d had just enough time to tighten the belt of her robe and take a couple of deep breaths to shake off the effect of Nathan’s attempt to seduce her by telephone. She wondered if he really would have told her what he’d been imagining doing to her.
“You’re looking very snazzy this morning,” Chloe said. Her grandmother wore a turquoise linen suit with a frivolous little hat of net and straw to match. Her slender cane was made of carved oak with a silver handle. She’d told Chloe one should dress well to dine with the Lord in his own house.
As she walked slowly into the living room, Grandmillie spotted the lupines on the table and nodded her approval. “That young man of yours knows how to treat a lady.”
Grandmillie’s description of Nathan made him sound like Chloe’s teenage prom date. She thought of him striding down the corridor of Trainor Electronics in his custom-tailored suit with a phalanx of executive vice presidents marching behind him. Nope, not your average young man. And not hers either.
“He sent champagne too,” Chloe said as her grandmother settled into her lounge chair.
Grandmillie’s eyes lit up, her professional interest as a former bar owner piqued. “What kind?”
“Dom Pérignon.”
“A classic. You can’t go wrong with that.” She removed her hat and set it on the table. “Now tell me all about your dinner out.”
“There’s something I need to ask you about first.” Chloe picked up the Crestmont Village folder. “Why did you send for information about this place?”
Grandmillie waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, that. It just came in the mail. AARP must have sold them a mailing list of local seniors.”
Chloe kept her voice calm. “There’s a letter inside that’s addressed to you and thanks you for your inquiry.”
Her grandmother looked away. “It’s a nice place. I put my name on the waiting list.”
Chloe’s heart seemed to twist in her chest. “But we’ve talked about this. You’re doing fine here. And you don’t belong in that place.”
Grandmillie sighed and brought her gaze back to Chloe. “Not yet, sweetie, but I’m afraid the time is coming. I love you too much to be a burden and a worry to you.”
“You’re my anchor. I need you here in my home.” Chloe wiped away tears with the back of her hand.
“You need to live your life, and I like the folks at Crestmont Village.”
Chloe thought about her tour of the elder-care facility a couple of years ago. It was clean and well maintained. The staff was kind and caring. But so many of the residents were in the grip of dementia or stared blankly at a television set. Grandmillie was as sharp as a tack and loved visiting with their neighbors of all ages. She was especially good with the teenagers, who often spilled their troubles to her when they would talk to no one else.
“Is this because I asked Dr. Cavill to give you his emergency phone number?” Chloe had guessed Grandmillie would be annoyed about that. “I did it just to make myself feel better, not because I thought there would really be a problem.”
“Exactly what I’m talking about. You felt guilty, and I won’t stand for that.”
“But I’ll feel so much worse if you’re not here with me.”
Grandmillie looked down at her hands folded in her lap for a long moment before she spoke in a low voice. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but two weeks ago I may have had a very minor stroke.”
“What! When? Why didn’t you call me? Did you go to the hospital?” Chloe couldn’t stay on the couch. She got up and knelt in front of her grandmother, resting her hand on the older woman’s nylon-covered knee, more to comfort herself than Grandmillie.
Her grandmother’s pale-blue eyes went misty. “You are the best granddaughter anyone could ask for.” She put her hand over Chloe’s. “It was two Wednesdays ago. I fell in the hallway for no good reason, so I got out my cell phone and called Lynda to come over. She drove me to the doctor. I would have told you if the doctor had said it was serious, but he checked me over and said everything was good. It was just one of those things. And don’t you go yelling at Lynda. I swore her to secrecy before I would tell her why I called.”
Chloe couldn’t hide the tears tracing hot, salty paths down her cheeks. The idea of Grandmillie lying on the hard wooden floor of their hallway all alone nearly choked her with guilt and distress. She’d been ignoring the evidence of her grandmother’s increasing frailty because she didn’t want to deal with the implications, and that denial had caused her grandmother pain.
“I’m so sorry.” Chloe rested her forehead on Grandmillie’s knee as a sob shook her. “I shouldn’t have left you here alone.”
“And that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you about it.” Her grandmother’s tone was sharp. “I’m perfectly capable of knowing when it’s time to change my living situation, so you’re not going to take the blame on yourself.”
Chloe straightened and rubbed the tears away. She took a deep breath to clear the tightness in her chest. “You’re right. But I don’t agree that it’s time to go to Crestmont Village. You just need someone to be here with you when I’m not.”
“Missy, you know as well as I do how much that kind of care costs.”
“And the good news is that I have a full-time job offer with benefits, so I can afford it.”
Grandmillie looked skeptical. “This is the first time you’ve mentioned any such thing.”
That was because Chloe hadn’t planned to accept the job. She hated everything about it, from the man she would be working for to the sleazy way he did business. She’d spent a week as a temp for Larry Clarke, the head of sales at Brandt Tech, and he’d liked her so much he’d offered her a permanent job as his sales assistant. He’d also propositioned her, right in front of the framed photos of his wife and twin two-year-old daughters.
Chloe could handle the sexual issue; Larry had barely blinked when she turned him down flat. What bothered her more were the false promises Larry made to prospective clients when he wanted to close a deal. So she’d refused his original job offer, only to have him come back with an increase in salary, a signing bonus, and full benefits from day one. She hadn’t said no immediately because it was so tempting financially. Now she felt that fate had been guiding her.
“That’s because I was negotiating for a higher salary and hadn’t accepted it yet. But the new offer just came in, and they added a signing bonus to convince me.” Chloe tried to sound excited.
Grandmillie wasn’t buying it. “Where is this miracle job?”
Unfortunately, Chloe had described Larry Clarke’s dishonest sales tactics to Grandmillie while she was temping there. At least she hadn’t mentioned his disgusting proposition. As Nathan had observed, Chloe was a terrible liar, so she told a general truth, saying breezily, “Brandt Tech. They loved me there.”
“Where you worked for the lying dirtbag of a sales manager?” Grandmillie gave her the gimlet eye and thumped the floor with her cane. “No. You will not compromise your integrity for an old woman.”
Chloe knew how to fix t
his. She pushed up from the floor and stood. “It’s not just about you. I’m tired of not being able to eat out or buy a nice pair of shoes when I want to. This job would give me extra money to spend on myself too.”
“I wasn’t born yesterday.” Grandmillie’s voice was kind. “Sit down, child, and listen to me.”
Chloe sank down onto the sofa with relief, since her knees felt shaky.
“I know you adored your father, especially after your mother died and he was the only parent you had. But my son foisted his adult bitterness on your young soul, and that wasn’t right. If I’d known what he was telling you during those evenings you two spent in his workshop, I would have given him a piece of my mind.”
“What do you mean?”
“All that talk about how terrible big corporations are. How they stole his marvelous inventions and never paid him a penny.” Grandmillie shook her head. “When your father went to work for Lindell, he signed a contract stipulating that they owned anything he developed. He knew exactly what that signified.”
“Yes, but other—”
“Let me finish. Furthermore, he worked with a team. Those inventions weren’t just his; they were the result of lots of brains put together. Not to mention that without the equipment and the laboratory and the marketing support, your father couldn’t have turned his ideas into salable products. Kevin was a dreamer, a brilliant one in certain ways, but not a practical man. Lindell gave him a real-world structure to work in.”
Chloe sat back against the cushions as she tried to absorb this new perspective on her father. In all the hours she’d spent sitting on her favorite high stool, watching him tinker at his worktable, she’d never questioned his claim that Lindell had exploited his genius without proper compensation. Grandmillie was right about the bitterness; she’d drunk it in along with her father’s stories about the drama and excitement of creating a new product that sent the company’s profits soaring but didn’t budge his paycheck.
The CEO Buys in (Wager of Hearts #1) Page 18