“Not in those words, but the implication was clear.”
“Shit, shit, shit.”
“What’s wrong now?”
He rubs his eye sockets with the butt of his hands. “She didn’t tell you either,” he assesses, sliding a small stack of papers my way.
I pick them up, my stomach starting to roll as I read through the first one.
Miss Monroe,
After careful consideration and review of your application, the AIT would like to formally invite you to join our 2017 program.
As you know, this prestigious program is offered to a select group of artists who show accomplishments in areas of not only academia but also community. Your background and references are exactly in line with the type of individual we’d like to have join us.
In the coming days, we will be sending extensive information on the next steps, including location assignments.
Congratulations, and we look forward to having you become a member of our team of esteemed artists.
Sincerely,
The AIT Acceptance Board
I have to read through it twice to truly understand the words.
“She duped you, too,” Logan accurately guesses.
“Why?” I look at him, trying to calm the thundering in my chest. “And how do you have this?”
“I made a few calls. My suspicions were nagging at me nonstop. Something wasn’t right. Every time I asked her about this, she somehow blew me off, never wanting to discuss the importance of planning. I started to get worried that they’d rejected her, so I did something I swore I’d never do. I decided to intervene.”
“Intervene how?”
“I called the board, explaining I was a reference and she still hadn’t heard back.”
“And they sent you this?”
“They didn’t have to. This woman told me they were so disappointed Grace decided not to join them. She told me they were leaving a space open, in hopes she changed her mind before the deadline.”
“Logan, I’m going to need you to spit this out. Tell me what I’m supposed to catch onto here. There has to be some mix-up.”
“Keep reading.” He points to the stack in my hands.
I do as he says, my eyes skimming through each page, noticing for the first time these are Grace’s personal emails.
Miss Monroe,
We’ve had quite an interest in your skills from each of our instructors. After careful consideration of your personal interests, we’ve decided to send you to work with a group in Seattle, Washington.
More details are attached to this email. We look forward to hearing back from you.
The next few pages outline a syllabus of learning techniques, schedules, and lodging recommendations in Seattle.
There’s another email.
Miss Monroe,
After several emails and voice messages, we’ve yet to hear back from you regarding your acceptance. Please confirm receipt of offer letter and assignment status.
We anxiously await to hear you’re joining us on January 7th, 2017.
My own confusion sets in. Why hasn’t Grace responded to them? And better yet, why didn’t she tell me? My questions are answered as I flip to the last piece of paper.
Dear AIT Acceptance Board,
Thank you for your consideration into this elite and esteemed program, with the chance to work under some of the most respected mentors in my field. This is an opportunity of a lifetime that I deeply cherish.
With that being said, it is with great regret that I decline. This was not an easy decision, as I’ve loved art all my life. However, I’ve learned timing is everything. And the time is not right for me.
Please understand that I will forever be grateful for this opportunity and know your acceptance is the greatest and highest recognition I’ve ever received.
Sincerely,
Grace Monroe
My heart hammers hard, sending a roaring to my ears as I read back through the dates and times. The acceptance came three weeks ago, the day before she came to Jacksonville. She knew the whole trip she’d gotten in, yet she kept it to herself and insisted that I focus on the game.
I think about when I brought up the subject, knowing the time was coming where she should hear something. Holding her tight in my bed, she squeezed me back, telling me there was always next year. Like an asshole, I’d assumed she didn’t get in and didn’t want to press the issue. But I should have.
Then I look at the last time stamp. Her rejection was sent this morning, two hours after she left my condo where I reminded her my three weeks was up. My plan was to have her agree to move in with me before her parents arrived, so we could break the news over the weekend.
She smiled coyly, not acknowledging my timeline, but I figured I’d gotten through to her. Now I know, reading this, Grace was giving up much more than her apartment for me. She was giving up a chance of a lifetime.
When I glance up, there’s a highball of whiskey filled to the rim in front of me. “Peace offering.” He slides it closer.
“She lied to me.” I take a healthy gulp, feeling the sting as I swallow.
“No, she sidestepped your question. She has a knack for that.”
“I didn’t want to be insensitive. I should have questioned her harder.”
“Nah, because then she would have lied to you.”
“How do you know? Maybe I could have convinced her to accept.”
“Because she’s my sister, and I know she’s stubborn.”
Selfless is another word that comes to my mind. “She can’t do this. I’ll talk to her. She’s going.”
“I owe you an apology. I thought you knew. She tells you everything.”
“Apparently not.” I finish the rest of the whiskey, this time welcoming the burn.
“What are you going to do?”
My mind is blank with ideas, but I know I have to think of something. “Convince her to go,” is all I say.
“She doesn’t know I have these emails. I had to backdoor into her email, essentially spying on her, after hearing she turned them down. I needed all the evidence.”
“How do you want me to handle that?”
“I’ll fess up, telling her I called and learned she declined. For now, I won’t mention the emails.”
“I’ll go home and talk to her tonight.”
“Actually, I think you should wait. Let the shock settle before you try to reason with her. She’s going to be mad at me, even more furious I’ve told you. It’s smart to wait a few days.”
“How long?”
“I’ll tell her on Monday. That gives you this week to figure out what you should say.”
“You gonna be able to keep your temper down around her? Treat her normally? Because if you pull the same attitude on her, we’re going to have a problem. A huge problem.”
“Yeah, I actually feel like a dick right now. I assumed you knew and went back on your word.”
“Dick move, but I understand. I’ve been known to jump to conclusions before, too.”
The memory of barging into Shaw’s office last year and laying him out when he hurt Bizzy springs to mind. She was devastated, and when I learned exactly how deep her fears and devastation ran, I went after him.
“Nick, I’m going to ask you something else. I’m not telling my family anything about this because they’ll suffocate her with their meddling. Grace is excited about this upcoming weekend. The game, our families, the holiday—all of it. Don’t ruin it for her.”
I slice my eyes to his, my hand itching to throw a fist to his face. “You don’t have to tell me that shit. I fucking love your sister more than anything.”
Fury rolls between us as I wait for his response. If he says something else stupid, I can’t be responsible for my actions. He throws his hands in the air, leaning back in his chair.
Smart choice considering I’d like to jump over his desk.
“Get your head together, think about how to proceed, and try to work your magic. I
’m here if you need me.”
I place the emails back on his desk and leave without another word. I’m not going to need him. I have a week until he approaches her. Seven days of pretending to know nothing and coming up with a way to send her away.
“Run this by me again.” Shaw leans back, crossing one leg over the other and strumming his fingers on his knee. It’s a move I’ve become familiar with over my professional life. It’s his ‘solution seat’. Every word soaks into his brain as he works to find a solution.
I repeat what happened during my meeting with Logan and tell him of my promises to the Monroe men.
“Quite a predicament.”
“No shit.”
“These are the kind of revelations that make me wonder if he truly did go to law school.” Mathis rolls his eyes at me dramatically.
Shaw cocks an eyebrow at him, and I grin, some of the tension in my shoulders easing.
“It’s no secret how I reacted when Bizzy told me she was leaving, taking a job in Charlotte. I lost my mind,” Shaw adds.
“Totally different situation. Bizzy had her reasons. This is completely different,” I argue.
“But I was hurt she didn’t discuss it with me.”
“You were having a baby with her nemesis! You broke her heart. How is that even relatable to this?” I’m beginning to lose my patience and regret asking Shaw and Mathis to meet with me for advice.
His golden eyes flash with annoyance, telling me to reel it in. Shaw loves his son, but the memories before Brayden were born are grim. He almost lost Bizzy twice, and both were because of Sasha. Reminding him of her heartbreak is the best way to set him off. Luckily, Mathis takes the opportunity to speak up.
“What are the chances you can get her to change her mind?”
“Hopefully, a hundred percent.”
“And if she refuses?”
“I’ll have to change her mind some way. This is her dream, a dream she shared with Kayla. She’s loved art for her entire life, and I can’t let it slip through her fingers. It’s only a few months, and that’s why I can’t understand why she didn’t talk to me.”
“Nick, I hate to point out the obvious, but you need to find out why she changed her mind. Don’t assume it’s because of you.”
I scrub my hands over my face and know Mathis is right. I need to talk to her and find out her reasons, but that doesn’t change the fact I have a job to do.
“Let’s dissect both scenarios. What if you succeed, and she goes away? You say it’ll be at least three months. Let’s roll back to the facts.” The lawyer in Shaw is back.
“According to the agenda, the program is anywhere from twelve to fourteen weeks, with the option to extend based on different circumstances. Grace really wants to perfect her glass blowing knowledge, so who knows what her end date will be.”
“And what will you do while she’s gone?”
“Hopefully, get through playoffs and another Super Bowl. Then I’ll go to her.”
“Does she know this?”
“She will once I talk to her. I’ll explain.”
“Worst case scenario, you’ll be apart for six weeks.”
“Doesn’t seem too bad.”
Mathis and I both swing our heads to Shaw, my eyes narrowing on him. “You didn’t make it fourteen days until you moved to Charlotte.”
The argument is clear on his face, and I let out a fierce rumble. “Don’t you dare say anything you can’t take back. I fucking love Grace to the bottom of my soul. She’s it for me. Sometimes, the feelings are so strong I can’t put it into words.”
“Damn, brother, I think you just did.” Mathis gives a low whistle.
“That’s why I can’t take this opportunity away. She deserves the world handed to her, and I’m not going to let it slip away.”
“Sounds like your mind is made up. She’s going, regardless of her initial decision,” Shaw agrees under his breath.
He’s right. Hopefully, this will be painless, but my gut is telling me to be prepared.
Be prepared to do whatever it takes to get her to Seattle.
Chapter 24
Grace
Watching my mom flutter around the gallery, talking with the customers, should have me smiling. Instead, there’s a weight in my stomach that gets heavier as the day goes on.
Something’s not right. I can sense it. There’s not one thing I can pinpoint that’s out of order, but the nagging feeling is still present. And it started when Nick came home on Monday night.
I expected him to pounce on me, knowing he’d expect an answer about living together. There was no pouncing, jumping, or leaping. Gone was the confident, smug man who’d left me that morning with the promise of getting an answer out of me. Instead, he fixed me a light dinner and took me to bed, saying he was exhausted from practice.
The next night was the same, except this time, he made love to me so tenderly, so sweetly, I cried when he fell asleep. But since my family arrived on Wednesday, we haven’t had a chance to be alone. Knowing my family’s traditions, he didn’t argue when I explained I needed to stay at my place with my grandpa while Mom and Dad stayed at Logan’s.
Even after his win on Thursday and our Thanksgiving meal, Nick stayed unusually quiet. He didn’t even crack a smile when I served him a piece of the peach pie my mom made that morning.
There is so much happening around me. My parents and the Bennetts hit it off immediately. My Grandpa has declared he’s in love with Claire, which had Mathis offering her to him for a week, jokingly. Melanie is back in the picture, too, fully involved with our crew. But my mood is sinking by the minute, my mind swirling with things I could have said or done wrong.
Nick is upset, and I can’t figure out why.
“Grace, which picture did you mention to me you loved?” My mom’s voice breaks me out of my Grace Space, and I glance up to see Maria with her. I didn’t even notice her come in.
“Let me show you.” Anxiety spikes as I walk to the back. This was going to be a gift to Nick when I moved in.
“It’s perfect,” Maria gushes. “Where would you hang it?”
“In the entryway hall.”
Luckily, there’s no more time for conversation because another customer walks in and I rush to her, desperate to get away.
The afternoon drags on until I’m delirious with worry. Finally, when Logan takes Mom to his place to meet Dad, I break down and call Nick, ready to get to the bottom of this.
“Hello.” His tone is sharp, jarring me.
“Nick?”
“Hey, Grace, what’s up?”
“Nothing, I haven’t heard from you today. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’ve been busy. Doing some shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“Thought about getting a new TV, so I’m at the store.”
“Where are you putting a new TV?”
I think about the seventy inch in his living room and the sixty inch already in his bedroom. There’s no room for a new one.
“Not sure yet, maybe in the living room, but I need to go. The salesman is in front of me.”
“Nick, I think we need to talk. Something is wrong.”
He sighs impatiently and muffles the phone before coming back. “Grace, let’s talk on Monday night after your parents leave.”
“Monday night? Aren’t we doing brunch tomorrow?”
“Sorry, I forgot. I’ll see if I can make it.”
“What the hell is happening here?”
“I need to go. Can I call you later?”
“Yes, Nick, call me when you’re not so busy.” I hang up and stare at the screen.
Then I scream into the empty gallery.
I swipe the hot tears from my cheeks and concentrate on driving. Anger and resentment fill my mind as I think about what Logan has done. How dare he? This is my life, my decision, end of subject. I’m a twenty-five-year-old woman who can stand on my own.
So why do I feel like a child who just left the principal
’s office?
Because my brother and business partner just scolded me, filling my head with horrible thoughts. And on top of it, he called my boyfriend, exposing my secret. The tears won’t stop, so I pull over until I can regain my composure.
The scene from earlier replays in my mind, making me angrier by the second.
“Grace, can you come to my office when you lock up?” Logan called from the back.
I locked the doors, dimmed the lights, and closed down the computer.
“What’s going on?” I asked, plopping in the chair and kicking off my shoes. It’d been a long day on my feet, and I thought about the bubble bath waiting for me when I got home.
He turned his phone over and over in his hand, blowing out a deep breath. When he looked up, disappointment was written all over his face. That’s when it clicked; he knew.
Seeing no need to dance around the subject, I figured we might as well get it over with. “How’d you find out?”
“I made some calls today. Finally spoke to someone who told me you rejected the opportunity.”
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“You left me no choice. Every single time I bring it up, you brush it off. Mom and Dad are curious, yet, you blow them off, too.”
“So you violated my privacy?”
“Making a phone call is hardly violating anything. Don’t be so dramatic.”
“Okay, so now you know. I decided not to go. The timing is wrong.”
“How can the timing be wrong? This was always in the plan. We’ve been discussing this for over a year.”
I knew he’d be upset when I told him, that’s why I’d been avoiding this conversation. But he was clearly looking for more than a simple excuse. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, ready to defend my decision.
“Plans change. I’ve changed. Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I have a new life.”
“What you mean is you have a new boyfriend.” Sarcasm leaked from his tone.
I straightened my shoulders and glared at him. He wanted an argument; he was going to get one. “Yes, I do have a new boyfriend, but I also have a lot more than that. I have friends who I’ve come to love. I have the gallery and all the artists. I also have you, and even though you’re being a prick, I’d like to think you like having me around.”
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