by Parker, Ali
I shook my head. “No thank you.”
He looked at me and I realized I would give away my secret if I wasn’t careful. “I’d like some water, if you have it.”
“Of course,” he said, walking to the fridge, then pulling out a cold bottle of water.
I opened it and let the cool water run down my throat. I was suddenly feeling very warm and appreciated the cold drink. I could feel him watching me. It was uncomfortable and tense. I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t jump right into a normal relationship with him. I didn’t know what to talk about. I knew it was the perfect opportunity to tell him about the baby, but I couldn’t do it.
“How’s your mom?” I asked, hoping it was a nice, safe topic for us to discuss.
“How did you know about my mom?”
I realized the topic was not safe. Or, it could be a way for me to test him—maybe bait him a little. He was convinced I was hooking up with Jack or planning something nefarious. Let him believe it. It had cost me my marriage and my happiness.
“Jack called me,” I said cheerily.
His eyes narrowed. “Of course he did. I’m glad he did.”
That was not what I was expecting to hear. “You’re glad he did?”
“Sure. My mom likes you. She’d want you to know. She’s doing much better by the way. I’m not sure how much Jack told you, but she’s at home now. We got her in-home care with an around-the-clock nurse. We transformed the den into her bedroom, which she isn’t happy about,” he said in a straightforward way.
I nodded, surprised by how easy he was talking about it. He never once mentioned me colluding with Jack or me lying to him. It was all so … so—normal. Normal and unexpected, and it put me on guard.
I cleared my throat. “I came here because Jack is worried about you.”
“He’s being ridiculous. I’m fine.”
“You look tired. Are you sleeping okay?” I asked gently.
He walked away from me, his back to me as he poured himself a scotch. “I’m fine. Jack is an ass.”
“So are you,” I shot back.
He was smiling when he turned around. “I am. But he’s meddling. He needs to mind his own business.”
“He cares about you.”
The words made him uncomfortable. I could see it in his eyes and by the way he was gripping the glass in his hand. “I’m fine,” he repeated.
I took a drink of water. “Great. Then I guess I can go.”
“Wait,” he said, stepping toward me once again.
I took a step back, bumping into the back of the couch. “Grayson, I only came by to make sure you were okay.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes on mine. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said in his husky voice that always made goose bumps pop out over my body.
“Have you been thinking about what you did? How much of a jerk you were?” I snapped.
Once again, he looked uncomfortable. “Yes.”
I couldn’t let him off too easy. I was a softie when it came to him. He had convinced me to take him back once before. I had no willpower when it came to him. I wanted him. I couldn’t resist him unless I was pissed at him. I had to stay mad in order to resist the temptation of him.
“You have?” I said with one eyebrow raised.
He nodded, then reached out and grabbed my hand. Like an idiot, I let him lead me around the couch and sat when he tugged me down beside him. He set his drink on the side table and took my hand in both of his.
“Hannah, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”
“You’re sorry?” I repeated.
“I am. I was paranoid. I don’t trust easily. You know that. It isn’t an excuse, but I’m working on it,” he said.
I wanted to believe him. I wanted to hold onto his words and let them carry me back to that fantasy we had created together. I couldn’t let myself go so easily. I knew better.
“Grayson, I tried, I really did. I wanted to stick it out and help you find real love and happiness. I can’t tell you how much I wanted that, but I’m not a doormat. I can’t let you stomp all over me,” I told him.
He nodded. “I understand that, and I respect that. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved. I am sorry.”
Hearing the words was a balm for my bruised soul. It was the words I had dreamed of hearing for the past several weeks. I wanted to believe him, but I had to know if it was about us or about him getting his inheritance.
“I want to believe you, but now it’s me who is worried about trusting you. I did that once and it backfired.”
“You’re right. You have every reason to distrust me. I want you to know I don’t care about the inheritance. I got caught up in all of it. Jack helped me to see reason,” he explained.
“How?”
He chuckled. “I’m wealthy regardless of my position in the company.” He smirked.
I laughed. “But money is one thing. You thrive on the power that being the CEO and head of the family brings you.”
He looked ashamed. “I did. I hope it isn’t too late for me to make things right. I can’t step away from my position in the company.”
“I understand that, and I wouldn’t ask you to give up a company you love,” I said coldly, the words having an entirely different meaning altogether.
The barb hit home. He winced. “Again, you’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. In my defense, rarely do CEOs stay in place when we buy their companies.”
I shot him a glare. “I’m not an average CEO.”
He grinned. “No, you are not. I will give you your job back. I mean, I did hire someone new, but I would love to have you back at the helm.”
I shook my head. “No thanks.”
He looked at me with surprise. “There would be no strings attached.”
“I don’t want it. I’m moving past all that.”
“What do you mean? Are you leaving the city?” he asked, and I could see the fear in his eyes.
I shook my head. “No, nothing like that. I’m moving on with my life. I don’t want to look back.”
“Hannah,” he whispered my name.
“I’m sorry.”
“Can we try and talk through all this? I’m not ready to give up on us,” he said in a heartfelt tone.
I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know if there is any more to talk about.”
I hated hiding the baby from him. I couldn’t tell him—not yet. If he was serious about us talking things through, I needed to know if it was for me because he truly cared about me or if it was because he still wanted the inheritance. I was gun-shy. He had a way with words and telling me exactly what I wanted to hear. My heart ruled my mind when it came to him. I needed to be smarter about this. If I went back into the marriage and had his child, I would die if he tossed me to the side the second he got what he’d wanted from the very beginning.
“Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?” he asked pointedly.
“I don’t know.”
He sighed, his hands closing over mine tighter. “Can we have dinner sometime this coming week? I want to talk to you. I want to prove to you I’m serious.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I argued.
“Talk. Nothing more. We start fresh. I want to go back to basics. Pretend all the other stuff never happened,” he insisted.
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure it was a good idea. I was bound to start showing soon. If he was serious about starting over, I didn’t want the pregnancy to confuse things. It was one dinner. I could do one dinner, couldn’t I?
“Fine, one dinner.”
“Perfect, how does Tuesday work for you?” he asked excitedly.
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of me having a busy schedule. Tuesdays on TV were boring. I could handle giving them up. Hell, there were enough reasons and I could record if I couldn’t live without a particular show. I didn’t want him to know I had been a recluse the past seven weeks. That was a little embarrassing. Although, he wasn’t looking all that great himself. I hoped
his lack of sleep had a little something to do with me. That would give me some satisfaction.
“Yes, Tuesday works for me.” I heard myself saying.
He nodded. “Great. Can I send a car for you or I can pick you up?”
“Whatever works.”
“Thank you. I promise things will be different.”
“I should go,” I muttered.
I couldn’t stay on the couch with him another second. I was fighting the urge to kiss him. If I kissed him, I wouldn’t be able to stop what was sure to come next. I pulled my hand out of his and stood up, swaying a little with the light-headedness. I ignored it, not wanting him to know I felt the room spinning.
I managed to walk to the door and almost made it out before he stopped me by putting a hand on my shoulder. “Hannah?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for giving me a chance, even if it is only dinner.”
I nodded. “Sure,” I mumbled before making my way out and to the elevator.
When the elevator doors closed, I breathed a sigh of relief. That had been hard. I knew seeing him would sting but seeing him and then being bombarded with the new him had been overwhelming. I hoped he was being honest. I hoped this new Grayson was going to be around for a long while.
Chapter 59
Grayson
It felt good to be getting back into the swing of things. Monday had been amazing. I was able to take care of business that had been neglected during my mental-checkout phase. It felt great to be able to focus on the company and to keep it afloat. I did love power and I did love success, but I was no longer a slave to those two things. I had a completely different outlook on the world. I realized money and power were not everything. True happiness came from the people in your life and not what you could buy.
I was sure my staff probably thought I was drunk most of the day yesterday because of my rather uncharacteristically good mood. It wasn’t normal for me, but I liked it. I was still the cutthroat business man I had to be, but I felt much better about the way things were headed. My date with Hannah was tonight. I had been looking forward to it all day. Hell, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since she agreed to go with me.
I vowed to behave myself. I wouldn’t pressure her. I would take it easy and try to get to know her all over again without sex blurring the lines. I checked the clock on the wall for the third time that hour. I wished I would have told her we could have an early dinner. I wasn’t sure I could wait much longer. I had missed seeing her, hearing her voice, and smelling her. I smiled thinking about how radiant she looked. I didn’t think it was possible for her to actually get more beautiful, but she had.
“Line one, Mr. Bancroft,” my secretary’s voice floated through the room.
I hoped it wasn’t Hannah calling to cancel. Before picking up the phone, I checked my cell to make sure she hadn’t tried to reach me there first.
I answered and when the head of the accounting department’s voice came through the line, I breathed a sigh of relief. I made it through the call and checked the time again. It had only been ten minutes since the last time I checked. I was acting like a silly teenager. I took a deep breath and dismissed her from my mind, focusing on work instead.
When it was five o’clock, I stopped fighting it. I grabbed my stuff and headed out the door. I was going to pick her up in my car. It would be more personal, more intimate than a driver chaperoning us. This all had to look and feel different in order to convince her I was a new man with new goals. I went home and changed into something a little more casual before texting her and letting her know I was on the way.
She was waiting for me in front of her building when I pulled up to the curb. I knew she wasn’t ready to let me in her house and had opted for a curbside pickup rather than a front-door greeting.
“You look gorgeous,” I told her, unable to take my eyes off her in the beautiful blue dress she was wearing. It was new, different. I liked the style that was loose and flowing. It left a little something to the imagination.
“Thank you. You drove,” she said with surprise.
I chuckled. “I do on occasion.”
She strapped on her seat belt and I pulled away from the curb, heading for the restaurant I had pulled some strings to get a reservation at. Everything had to be perfect. I might only get one shot at proving to her I was serious about starting over. I pulled up to the valet and swiftly exited the car, waiting for her on the curb.
“Thank you,” she whispered as I helped her out.
We were quickly seated at a back-corner table. “Do you want some wine?” I asked, not wanting to assume anything.
“No thank you. I’ll just have some sparkling water,” she said as the waiter stood next to the table.
I debated ordering a glass for myself but refrained. Maybe she wanted to stay completely sober. I could respect that. “I’ll have the same,” I said.
She looked at me with surprise. “Really?”
“I’m driving.”
“True. I bet it’s been a while since you’ve said that,” she teased.
I laughed. “It has. I think I miss driving.”
“I bought a new car,” she blurted out.
“Really? I didn’t know you drove either.”
She smiled. “I have lately. I like the control. I like going where I want and changing my mind if I get the urge.”
“It does give you a certain sense of freedom.”
The waiter delivered our drinks. I took a sip and was unimpressed, but I could enjoy a dry date.
“You could have ordered a scotch,” she said looking at the glass I had set back on the table.
I shrugged. “I didn’t really want one. How have you been?” I asked, wanting to know what she’d been doing with all her free time.
“Good. I’ve been learning to cook,” she said with a smile.
“Really? That’s cool. Maybe we can whip something up one of these days,” I offered, hoping to hear her say yes.
“Maybe. What about you? You said you were planning a vacation. Where were you going?”
I couldn’t tell her I was hoping to escape the country and her memory. “I was headed to the Maldives for a week or two.”
“Wow! That sounds like a nice vacation.”
“Have you ever been?”
She shook her head. “Nope. I have to admit, I’ve only taken one real vacation and that was to Cancun back in college. When I dropped out to start the company, it was all-consuming. I was always afraid to leave for any amount of time and I couldn’t stand the idea of being out of the country. I look back now and wish I would have taken more time to enjoy myself instead of working so much.”
I nodded. “I know exactly what you mean. I took off for a weekend a while back but couldn’t stand to be away. But this time, I was ready. I was ready to let go of that iron fist I had on the company.”
“But you didn’t go?”
“My mom had her accident. When Jack called me, I had my jet fueled and ready to go. I couldn’t leave when I found out what had happened.”
She smiled. “That’s very sweet.”
“Thank you. It’s my mom. I know it may not seem like it, but my mom is very important to me.”
“I know it.”
I looked into her eyes and nodded. “Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me. I really want a fresh start and I hope this is it.”
“Grayson, I don’t want you to read more into this than it is. I’m still leery of getting too close. I want to believe you, but it’s so hard.”
I nodded. “I know. I haven’t made it easy. I know I can prove it to you with some time. All I ask is that you let me have the chance.”
She smiled. “I will give you that chance, but don’t take it too personally if I’m hesitant to jump in with both feet again.”
“Absolutely understandable. Don’t be offended, but I want to take this slow. I won’t be trying to seduce you,” I said with a grin.
She giggled. “Go
od to know.”
“So, besides cooking, what have you been up to?”
She shrugged a shoulder. “I’ve been doing a lot of online shopping to be honest.”
“What are you shopping for?” I asked, hoping to keep the conversation going.
“Furniture. My new car. This and that. I had this need to redo my entire apartment. I have found online shopping is so much easier. No high-pressure sales tactics and no one telling me what they think I should buy. I’ve become a bit of an addict,” she said with laughter in her voice.
“Sounds interesting. I’ll have to give it a try some day. I honestly don’t remember the last time I went shopping online or in the actual stores,” I said, realizing I truly hadn’t really bought anything that I had picked out myself. It was a little odd.
The waiter appeared and we both ordered. I noticed she cringed when she ordered the baked chicken dinner. I wasn’t sure why she ordered something she didn’t want, but I wasn’t going to ask. I kept feeling like she was testing me. I didn’t want to make a single misstep, and I fought against my instinct to take over and control everything.
We chatted a bit more until our dinners were delivered. I couldn’t help but notice she kept picking at her dinner the whole time.
“Is everything okay? We can send it back and order you something else.”
She shook her head. “It’s fine. I’m just not all that hungry,” she mumbled.
I didn’t believe her. Something was off. “Okay,” I said, dropping it.
She looked at the food and then the next thing I knew, she was racing for the bathroom. I looked around the restaurant, checking to see if anyone noticed. I casually motioned for the waiter, paid the bill, and went to stand outside the bathroom door. I was worried about her. She hadn’t looked good toward the end of the meal.
I waited for about ten minutes, tempted to go in the ladies’ room and find out what was happening. I watched women enter and exit, all of them with looks of pity on their faces. When she finally came through the door, she was holding a paper towel to her mouth. Her face was pale and the makeup she had on earlier was smudged.
“Are you okay?” I asked, suddenly very concerned for her health.