“What’s wrong?” I ask, my voice soft.
Mom pauses in front of me, holding a fist up. Her hand trembles as she uncurls her fingers, revealing a golden earring that I instantly recognize. I reach for it, but she snatches her hand away, keeping my earring trapped in her fist.
“Where did you get that?” I ask, my heart pounding. I lost it on the day Dad contacted me. The same day Dr. Grant carried me into his office. I haven’t told her about Dad texting me, and I’ve been struggling with the decision. She won’t respond well, and truthfully, I doubt there’s any benefit to telling her.
I haven’t responded to his text either, and I’m not sure I will. If just receiving a text from him brings me this much sorrow, then all I stand to gain by letting him back into my life is heartache. Besides, how dare he? How dare he show up now as though nothing happened, telling me he missed me?
“Why was this on Noah Grant’s desk?” Mom asks, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I swallow hard, trying my best to control my facial expression. I’m not good at lying to her, but I can’t have her finding out about Dad. “I went to the clinic the other day. I fell on campus and scraped my knees. Dr. Grant saw it happen and offered to help me dress my wounds.” My voice is calm and controlled. I’m not exactly lying to her about the events of that day, yet I feel like I am. Something about this entire exchange feels off, and it isn’t just Dad texting me that I want to hide from her. I instinctively want to hide that it wasn’t the first time I met Dr. Grant, but I can’t quite figure out why. It isn’t just because of the nature of my first visit. It’s the way she’s looking at me.
Mom stares at me, silent for a few seconds before she nods, her shoulders relaxing. She hands me my earring and I take it from her, a forced smile on my face.
“Why didn’t you tell me you got hurt? We have a private clinic you should’ve gone to.”
I nod nervously. “Yeah, I know,” I murmur. “But Dr. Grant saw me fall and helped me straight away. Why would I go to our family clinic when he was right there?”
I study Mom carefully, trying to figure out what she’s thinking. Why is she asking me about Dr. Grant? I bite down on my lip, worried that she somehow found out about my first visit to his office. She’d hate the idea of me testing sex toys, and she’d be too worried about rumors of my little incident. It isn’t me she cares about. It’s my reputation.
“Have you seen or spoken to him since then?”
I frown and shake my head. “No. Why?”
Mom shakes her head. “It’s nothing. You need to stay away from him. Don’t go see him again.”
I lean back in my seat and look at her through narrowed eyes. “Why?”
Mom sighs impatiently. “Why must you challenge me on everything? I’d never ask you to do anything that isn’t in your best interests, Amara.”
I shake my head. “That’s not an answer, Mother. Why do you want me to stay away from Dr. Grant? He’s been nothing but nice to me.”
Mom purses her lips and looks away. “Your grandfather has decided to mentor him. He wants to train Noah so he can take over our current medical holdings and expand them further. Noah has potential far greater than any of the men that currently work for us. He’s overcome challenges most people can’t even fathom. That man needs a break, and Grandpa is going to give it to him. Don’t stand in the way of that, Amara. Don’t get involved with him in any way.”
I frown and cross my arms. “I don’t understand,” I tell her. “That makes no sense, Mom. If Grandpa sees potential in him, then why is there a problem with me being friends with him? Not that we are, but still.”
Mom looks down at the floor, her expression crestfallen. She takes a moment to pull herself together, and the pain she tries to hide just intrigues me further.
“Will you please trust me on this, Amara? Nothing good will come from you getting involved with Noah. I won’t stop you from being friends with him, but it can never go further than that. Promise me, Amara.”
She looks at me with such desperation that I nod without thinking. “Of course, Mom. I promise.”
She exhales in relief and smiles shakily. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
I nod even as my thoughts are whirling. I know my mom. I’m not going to get more information out of her, but something doesn’t add up. Why would she want me to stay away from Dr. Grant if he’s someone Grandpa trusts with his business? Grandpa doesn’t approve of many people, and he rarely lets outsiders into his inner circle. Our entire board consists of only Astors. I don’t doubt for a second that Grandpa loves his empire more than he loves me. If he’s trusting Noah enough to mentor him himself and let him manage close to a billion dollars in assets, then there’s no way he wouldn’t trust Noah with me.
“How are things with your company?” Mom asks, raising my suspicions even further. She hates talking about my company, but she’s standing here with a smile on her face, pretending to be interested.
“It’s good, Mom. I have a meeting with Wilson tomorrow.”
“Wilson?” she asks, and I grimace. I’ve told her about him multiple times now. “Oh, right. Your friend!”
“Yeah, but he’s also my investor,” I remind her.
Mom nods. “Oh okay, I hope it goes well.”
Something is definitely up, and it’s got something to do with Dr. Grant. I bite down on my lip as I stare at my mother. I haven’t stopped thinking about Dr. Grant since I first met him. Mom might want me to stay away, but her words ensured I won’t. She’s hiding something, and I want to know what it is.
Chapter 11
Amara
“I’m sorry, Amara. I think it’s a great idea, but there are other investments that would be more profitable. I thought this might have potential, but I don’t see how it’s any different from what’s already on the market. I’m looking for something groundbreaking… and this isn’t it.”
My heart races as I look at Wilson, my investor. “What are you saying, Will?” I murmur. He’s one of my oldest friends and he’s been on board with my plans from the very start. What changed? He never said anything any of the times I told him about the progress with my prototypes. If he thought the product wasn’t good enough, then why didn’t he speak up sooner?
“I can’t invest in your company. There are just too many other projects that are more profitable. I was trying to do you a favor, but in the end, this is business, Amara. I’m sorry.”
Desperation claws at me as my hands start to tremble. I clasp them together tightly. “I can improve the prototypes, Will. There isn’t much I can’t build.”
Wilson shakes his head, and his expression tells me there’s no hope. He won’t invest. “Why now? You had months to pull out. Months that I could’ve spent finding someone else. Why would you do it now?”
I see guilt flash through his eyes and look away. It isn’t my intention to make him feel bad. I just want to understand. I shake my head and take a step away. “It’s okay. Thank you for your time.”
I turn and walk away, pausing when I hear Wilson call my name. “Amara,” he says, his voice soft. “I’m sorry.”
I smile tightly and nod as I walk out of his office, my heart breaking. I’m back at square one. Without an investor, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to get my company off the ground, and I don’t trust Grandpa. I don’t trust that he’d fully support me without an agenda. I can’t ask him for help.
The sky lights up with lightning as I step out of Wilson’s office building and I look up at the clouds as rain comes pouring down, matching my mood perfectly. A humorless laugh escapes my lips, the sound tinged with desperation. I’m trying so hard… I’m working as hard as I can, but it’s never enough.
I grab my phone to text Leia to meet me at a bar not too far away from here, needing a pick-me-up. Or maybe just getting wasted will do tonight. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like everything I do is in vain.
My phone buzzes straight after I send the text, and I click open the app assu
ming that it’s Leia replying. I freeze when I find another text from the number I’ve come to recognize as my father’s.
I’m not sure you’re receiving my messages, but if you are: I hope you’re having a great day today, sweetheart.
I swipe the message away, ignoring it. Does he realize that hearing from him just makes an already shitty day even worse? I don’t know how he even got my number, but every time he texts me, my heart breaks a little further. It’s the last thing I needed today. I swallow hard and try my best to inhale deeply, not wanting to lose control over my emotions again. Lately it feels like I’m barely in control of my life, and I’m tired of feeling this way. I’m tired of all the roadblocks in my carefully mapped out plan. I’m tired of pain that I thought had healed bringing me to my knees once again. I’m tired of all of it.
The world passes me by as I walk through the streets, my steps slow, rain drenching me entirely. My clothes stick to my skin and a chill runs down my spine as sorrow overcomes me.
I stand still in the middle of an empty sidewalk, my eyes falling closed. At least I’ve got that going for me. The hot tears that stream down my face are drowned out by the rain to the point that I can’t even tell if I’m crying or not. It’s a strange feeling to be choking on sobs yet not feel tears fall from your eyes.
I’m startled when the rain stops pouring down on me and open my eyes, my gaze lifting to find golden brown eyes filled with concern. “Dr. Grant,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.
“Amara,” he says, grabbing my hand. He lifts it up and wraps my fingers around his umbrella before letting go and shrugging out of his jacket. “You’re soaking wet. Are you okay?” he asks, wrapping his jacket around my shoulders. It smells like him, and it’s still filled with his warmth. Somehow, the gesture just makes my tears fall even harder, and I start to sob all over again.
Before I know it, Dr. Grant has his arms wrapped around me, and my face presses against his strong chest. His umbrella falls to the floor, the rain drenching us both.
“Amara,” he murmurs, his grip around me tightening. He buries one hand in my hair and wraps the other around my waist. The way he’s holding me… when is the last time someone hugged me like this? “Did something happen?”
I shake my head and throw my arms around his neck, hugging him back tightly, selfishly pressing my cold wet body against his, stealing his warmth. Dr. Grant just holds me like that, his hand moving over my back, never complaining about the rain.
When I pull away, he lifts his hands to my face and cups my cheeks, his thumbs swiping at the wetness on my face. He looks into my eyes, and we stand there together. The way he’s looking at me… it makes me feel like I’m not alone. Like he understands, even though he couldn’t possibly.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Grant. That’s the third time you’ve caught me in a less than desirable position.”
He smirks at me and brushes my wet hair out of my face. “Not at all,” he murmurs. “Far from it. Besides, isn’t there some saying about meeting trice being fate?”
His words bring a smile to my face, distracting me from the pain I’d been lost in. How does he do this to me? No one has ever had this power over me, making me smile just seconds after I cried my heart out, and he doesn’t even know it. I take him in, my eyes roaming over the white t-shirt he’s wearing. The rain has made it entirely see-through, and my eyes linger on his well-defined muscles.
“Feel better?”
I nod and drag my eyes back up to his. “Yes, thanks to you. You seem to be my knight in shining armor, Dr. Grant.”
He chuckles, and the sound washes over me, awakening a spark deep within. “Oh, I’m no Prince Charming.”
I grin at him. “I called you a knight. You upgraded yourself to a prince all by yourself.”
He laughs again, and this time my heart skips a beat. “I’m glad you seem better now. Do you want to talk about it?”
He genuinely seems interested, and it confuses me that someone might actually care. For years now I’ve only ever been known as Harold Astor’s granddaughter, and almost everyone that approaches me has an agenda of some sort. Yet somehow, Dr. Grant seems different.
“My investor informed me he’s withdrawing his support,” I tell him honestly, my eyes filling with fresh tears. I let my eyes fall closed, trying my best to compose myself. “The toy… it was a prototype that I truly believed was going to be the start of an amazing company, but it all seems to have been for nothing.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Amara. Don’t give up hope, though. These things have a way of working themselves out. Besides… you strike me as the type of woman that’ll find a way.”
I look into his eyes, surprised by the faith I see in them. So far, almost every single person around me has acted like my company is just a hobby, something cute that they entertain. This is the first time that someone other than Leia is taking me seriously. “Thank you,” I tell him, and the way he smiles makes my heart skip a beat.
I take a step back and straighten, suddenly feeling embarrassed. I probably look like a mess, and Dr. Grant… well, he looks like him. Gorgeous. Dangerous.
“What brings you here anyway?” I ask, unable to suppress my curiosity. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. It’s a stark difference from the suits he wore the last two times I saw him.
He tips his head toward the building behind me and smiles. “The gym. My gym is in that building. I’ve been fighting some demons of my own, and a good workout session always makes me feel better.”
I follow his gaze and nod, flustered. I’m always so composed, courtesy of years and years of mind-numbing socializing with boring socialites, but in front of Dr. Grant I turn into someone I barely even recognize: myself.
“Come on,” he says, bending down to grab his umbrella. “Let me walk you home.”
I shake my head and smile. “Actually, I’m meeting a friend of mine at a bar nearby.”
Dr. Grant nods. “All right, lead the way. I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”
Chapter 12
Amara
I’m quiet as Dr. Grant walks me to the bar I told Leia I’d meet her at. He’s holding up his umbrella, covering me entirely, but more than half of him is getting wet. He barely seems to notice, though. Or maybe he does. Maybe chivalry isn’t dead.
I take a step closer to him, and he looks down at me, his gaze unreadable. “You’ll get wet,” I murmur, my voice barely audible in the rain. “We both fit underneath the umbrella.”
He nods and wraps his arm around me, placing his hand on my waist. The warmth of his palm seeps through my soaking clothes, and I melt into him. We walk in silence, his embrace keeping me warm, and our proximity keeping both of us relatively dry.
I don’t remember the last time I felt this way. Walking through the rain with him, his arm wrapped around me… it feels peaceful.
“Here we are,” he says, pausing in front of the bar.
I hesitate, not wanting him to go. I’m not sure what it is about Dr. Grant, but his presence is soothing. “Would you like to have a drink with me?” I ask before I can change my mind. “Leia won’t be here for a few more minutes. She’s always late.”
He looks away, and my heart sinks. He’s going to say no, and that shouldn’t affect me, yet I’m already disappointed.
“I’d love to,” he says, surprising me. Dr. Grant laughs at my expression, and my heart does this weird little thing. Almost as though it flutters.
He collapses his umbrella, and I grab the jacket I’ve still got wrapped over my shoulders. Before I can take it off to return it to him, his hands close over mine, keeping them in place. Dr. Grant’s gaze drops to my chest and he bites down on his lip, his eyes darkening. “Keep that on, Amara.”
I look down, my face slowly turning scarlet when I realize that my top is partially see-through. My black bra is showing through my pale pink top, and my nipples are clearly outlined through it. I clutch Dr. Grant’s jacket and cove
r myself up as best as I can, eliciting a chuckle from him.
I lower my head as I walk into the bar, and the sound of his laughter follows me. Why is it that every time I’ve been with this man, I’ve thoroughly embarrassed myself? Usually I’m so composed, but not in his presence.
My cheeks are blazing as he slips into the barstool next to mine, an amused grin on his face. “Have you ever had a hot chocolate with Baileys in it?” he asks, thankfully changing the subject.
I shake my head as I suppress a shiver. My wet clothes are starting to make me feel cold now, and I suspect Dr. Grant is chilly too. He smiles as he orders us drinks, and I take that moment to study him. He’s handsome in a rugged way, and he carries a hint of danger. He’s different from the rich men that usually surround me. Their power is in their money. They’re nothing without it. But Dr. Grant? I have a feeling he could easily rip someone apart with his bare hands. He doesn’t need to hide behind the illusion of power and influence.
“What will you do?” he asks, his tone betraying his concern. My smile melts off my face and I stare at the two mugs the bartender pushes my way. I hand one to Dr. Grant silently.
“I’m not sure. Wilson, my investor… he’s a childhood friend, and he’s the only one that was willing to invest in me. I only have a couple of months left until I finish my PhD, and if I haven’t acquired funding by then, it’ll be over. Right now, I’m making use of the college’s research facilities, but soon I’ll need my own.”
He nods, his attention entirely on me. I don’t remember the last time someone looked at me with this much intensity, and it makes me feel vulnerable.
“My grandfather… I guess my surname kind of gave away who I am. My grandpa is throwing this huge charity ball next week, and I might be able to find a new investor there. I’m not sure.”
Dr. Grant (Off-Limits) Page 5