by Shealy James
She looked at me with a serious expression. “One last thing, E, why won’t you fight him? Are they really not important to you, or are you afraid of him?”
“I don’t think it’s either, Dr. Phil. I think I’m tired of fighting. I’ve been fighting for the last five years, and now my top priority is to get out. The only hang up is that I want my nest egg back.”
She smiled and leaned forward to pat my hand. “Then fight. I’ll help you in any way I can. I was just afraid that he…never mind. Ooh! We can have him followed and look for deviant behavior that will indicate he’s using the money illegally. Oh! We can set him up with a woman who will want to marry him? If he wants to marry someone else, he’ll hurry it along. Now, where can we find a stripper slut who will want to date a married man who is refusing to divorce his wife?” She tapped her finger against her chin as if she was really pondering this.
I laughed. “All right. All right. No James Bond tactics, and no hooking him up with strippers. It probably wouldn’t help me anyway, and I don’t want to be the one to hook him up with his next wife.”
“Too bad,” she shrugged then checked her watch. “It’s almost five. You missed your nail appointment, you know?”
“Damn. I’ll go tomorrow and just do a clear polish and closed-toe pumps tonight. No one will be looking at my hands anyway.”
Chapter 4
By the time I was dressed in my coral lace cocktail dress and tan pumps, Tara was supposed to be arriving to pick me up any minute. I was still putting the final touches on my makeup when my cell buzzed with a text letting me know she was there. Feeling rushed only added to my anxiety about the night. If it hadn’t been for my afternoon phone call and subsequent girl talk, I would have had plenty of time to get ready. That phone call was what started all of the stress that was now threatening to bubble over. Now the idea of being in a room full of strangers was making me feel a little nauseated.
Tara probably caught on to my nerves the second I climbed in her car, so it didn’t surprise me that she talked non-stop on the way to the restaurant. It also didn’t surprise me when she shoved a glass of white wine in my hand mere seconds after arriving there. Once we had our drinks, she led me around and introduced me like a mingling pro. As she introduced me to the alumni, she told me their names and something about each person that would help us start a conversation. Tara was a born socializer, which I was grateful for considering I didn’t really have to say anything as long as she was around. That helped keep my nerves and the nausea under control.
The constant flow of wine wasn’t hurting either. Waiters were everywhere, and it seemed that the second my glass was empty another was delivered. I hadn’t eaten anything by the time the third glass was delivered, and I was starting to feel the effects. I knew I needed to slow down, but I was using the wine as a way of staying busy while standing around listening to Tara speak.
Finally, tapas were brought around, so I was able to snag a crab cake here and passed on some kind of egg roll there. There was a vegetable tempura one that I liked, and just as I was about to grab a shrimp something or other, I felt eyes on me. I felt the hair rise on my neck and arms, and an uneasy feeling erupted in my stomach. I did a quick glance around the room and witnessed only small groups of people talking and grabbing from the passing trays of wine and food. No one was looking my way, but the feeling remained.
“Right, Eve?” Tara elbowed me gently, bringing me back to her conversation as she stuck a crostini in her mouth.
“What’s that? I’m sorry.” I apologized for paying such little attention to the conversation even though I wasn’t really sorry for tuning them out.
The man standing with Tara was probably in his mid-thirties and cute. He looked like he just stepped out of a J. Crew catalog. I think his name was Jake, but honestly, I had forgotten most people’s names after wine glass number two. He brought me back into the conversation. “Tara mentioned that you like to sail, so I was telling her I was planning to take my boat out this weekend.”
Please don’t ask me to go. Sure, he seemed nice enough, but I was totally not in the mood to be hit on right then. “Oh, you’ll have such a nice time. The weather should be nice for sailing this weekend. We used to go with some friends in Charleston and down in Gulf Shores. It was rarely windy enough to actually sail, but I always had a good time on the water.” There. That sounds friendly but non-committal, right?
He smiled widely at me and stepped closer. Here it comes, I thought with a mental eye roll. Sure enough, he said, “You should join me tomorrow then. I could use an experienced sailor on board.” I caught Tara smiling from just behind him, nodding her head.
Oh jeez. I didn’t know what to say. Obviously Tara was hoping I would take advantage of this guy’s offer, but all I could think about was what excuse I could use to get as far away from this conversation as possible. “Um…I can’t tomorrow. I—”
“Eve.” A deep voice cut in. I felt an arm snake around my waist and breathed in a scent that could only be…Yup. I followed the three-piece suit up to the face of the sexy stranger. “You ready to go?” Go? Go where? He looked over to Jake and held out his hand. “Grant Mitchell.” Jake looked as confused as I was, and I swore Tara was going to tip over in her four-inch heels.
Jake held out his hand. “Jared Loughlin. Nice to meet you.” Whoops. Jared, not Jake. Good thing I didn’t try to introduce them. I apparently didn’t know either one of their names.
Tara seemed to snap back to reality. She stepped forward and gave him a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek. “Grant! I didn’t know you knew Eve.”
“Yes.” He didn’t elaborate before turning to me. “You ready to go?”
“Wait,” Tara said. Her eyes flicked back and forth between me and Grant, who still had his arm around me, making me unable to think. Ever heard of personal space, buddy? “Is this the guy from the lecture?”
His grip tightened on my hip. “You told her about me.” I wanted to slap that smug grin off that handsome face of his, but the butterflies relentlessly beating their wings in my belly kept me from doing anything but glaring at Tara.
“Just that you were—”
I interrupted Tara. “We were discussing how unsafe it is for one of us to be in the building alone so late and that perhaps we should alert campus security to be in the general area during and after the reception.”
“What else did Eve say about that evening, Tara?” he asked as he pulled me closer. I felt the heat of his body throughout mine. I had never felt this kind of physical attraction before. It was palpable, like my body was desperate for his touch, the touch of a stranger, a very sexy stranger.
She looked right at me with a question in her eyes. My wide eyes told her what she needed, and she wasn’t about to throw me under the bus. “Nothing much. Did you say you were going somewhere?” Nice, Tara.
“Hmm…yes. Ready to go, Eve?” He turned me so I could look in his unusually colored eyes.
“Go?” I asked aloud this time.
“I’m taking you to dinner if you’re finished networking. Tara has pretty much introduced you to everyone you need to know, and some you didn’t.” His eyes snapped to Jared who was now turned and speaking with another woman. “Right, Tara?”
She raised her eyebrow at him. Tara wasn’t the kind of girl you bossed around, and I could see his assumption displeased her. I almost giggled when Tara clenched her jaw before she said, “Sure, Grant. You can have her. Let me just speak to Eve for a moment, and then she’s all yours.”
They stared at each other for a moment, silently communicating or intimidating each other, which was especially funny considering the top of Tara’s head only reached his chest in her highest heels. “Fine.” He agreed and looked back down at me. “Eve, I’ll pull the car around. Meet me at the front door.” He removed his hand from my waist and walked away. My waist tingled where he had touched me.
“Uhh…what was that?” Tara asked, fanning herself.
“I have
no idea.” I shrugged, trying to hide my stunned reaction. “I’ve seen him twice and never agreed to go anywhere with him.” I glanced at the door before turning and grabbing another glass of wine. I wasn’t going to be told what to do. I could be a strong woman. Only one man had the privilege to boss me around, and that was only because he took part in my conception. Besides, I wouldn’t even know what kind of car to look for if I went out there.
It occurred to me then that I probably should have been more concerned about the way Grant squashed Jared, but I was grateful for the interruption to the conversation. I mean, who asks someone to sail out into the ocean alone with a stranger? That sounded like a murder plot if I had ever heard one. Good gravy! When did I become so worried about being murdered?
Tara grabbed my arm and squeezed. “You need to be careful with him. He hops from one socialite to the next before he leaves them and they obsessively stalk him. Holy shit! I had forgotten about him. His sister was the speaker that night. It all makes sense.” Sister? Oh! “Look, Eve, while I agree that he can give you orgasms, probably hundreds of them, maybe you should start with a guppy before you snag the great white shark.”
“One, I’m not testing your orgasm theory with anyone. Two, I’m not snagging anything. Quit worrying.” I pulled my arm away and waved my hand flippantly before taking another sip of wine and mentally continuing my countdown. Three, no one that good-looking should be legal.
“You aren’t going?” she asked surprised.
“No. I never said I would. He just assumed. He can take his sexy three-piece suit, good looks, and arrogance and go play in the big leagues where he belongs. I’m perfectly happy hanging out with you.” Tara pressed her lips together like she was trying not to laugh. “What?”
“You think my suit is sexy?” The deep voice came from behind me before his chest pressed against my back. My eyes closed, wishing away the embarrassment. For the record, it didn’t work. He chose then to lean closer to my ear and whisper. “Your dress is pretty fucking sexy if you ask me. It would look great on the floor of my penthouse.” The hand that snaked its way to my hip had my body reacting in the most exciting and uncomfortable way.
“Shit. Really, Tara?” I swallowed the rest of my wine in one gulp and set my glass on the bar. “Excuse me. I’m going to the ladies,” I announced without turning around.
I walked away and headed to the restroom. Once inside, I finally took a deep breath to get the shaking under control. I had never met someone as intense and forward as him. Ever. Southern men may be forward in other ways, but no one had ever pressed their erection into my back moments after telling me their name. That seemed just a tad bit too forward.
After powdering my nose and reapplying my colorless lip-gloss, I faced the fact that I couldn’t hide in the restroom all night. In the hall, a pair of light eyes were waiting, watching the door. “I told you to meet me out front. The valet is holding my car.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Why not?” He looked truly dumbfounded, and I almost laughed out loud. Had no one ever told this guy no before?
I covered the giggle by crossing my arms over my chest, giving him my best expression of annoyance. “Well, for one, you didn’t ask me to go anywhere. For another thing, I don’t even know you. What I do know doesn’t impress me.”
He pushed off the wall and stood right in front of me looking down into my eyes. He didn’t touch me, but his proximity made me want him to wrap his arms around me. My body begged for his touch. Traitor. “I did ask. You said no. I’m trying a different tactic, because, let’s be honest, you want to have dinner with me. You want to do all kinds of things with me, and something has impressed you. You like my suits, and you think I’m good-looking. You shiver when I touch you, and you squirm like you are trying to give your body what it desperately needs, but that need doesn’t go away as long as my hands are on you, does it, Eve? You know my name is Grant Mitchell. With that I’m sure you can put together why I’m here and who my father and grandparents are.” Oh! I didn’t even make the connection. He was the grandson of the founders of the college.
Not ready to give in even though I could feel my resolve weakening the more I smelled his delicious cologne, I said, “Okay. And? Why does any of that mean I should get in your car?”
“You need to give this a shot.”
“No, I need to go back out there and do my job,” I replied less forcefully than I would have liked.
He stood back up to his full height. “Are you always this difficult?”
“No. I’m actually very agreeable when people aren’t making decisions for me and telling me what to do, or telling my boss what I’m going to be doing.”
“So, that’s a yes. Look, I just want to take you to dinner. Well, that’s not true.” He placed his hands on my neck and slowly trailed them down my arms, forcing the hairs to all rise in response. He trailed his hands down to my rear and pulled me against his hard body and waiting erection. “I want to strip you down and kiss every inch of your beautiful body. Right now, I’m going to feed you because you’ve had four glasses of wine and hardly any food, and I would honestly like to get to know the girl who thinks people might murder her and refuses to give in to me.” Apparently intense and forward turned me on.
I stood there speechless for a moment while I looked into his challenging and incredibly sexy eyes. He grabbed my hand and started walking toward the front door. Before I could stop myself, I let him guide me out of the restaurant.
Out on the sidewalk he shooed the valet away and held the door for me. I remained on the sidewalk. “Get in,” he snapped.
I crossed my arms over my chest and tapped my foot.
He strode over to me like a predator. “What now?”
I snapped back. “Just ask me to get in the car and go to dinner with you. Don’t tell me. Don’t command me. Ask me and see what happens.”
After a deep sigh, he gritted his teeth and said, “Eve, will you please get in the car and have dinner with me?”
As seriously as I could, I teased, “I already have plans tonight but maybe another time.”
He growled and then picked me up and set me in his dark grey Range Rover. Growled! He buckled my seatbelt and said, “Stay put,” before slamming the door. When he climbed in the car he looked positively irate. I giggled. “What?” he snapped.
“I was just teasing you. I was going to agree, but you just couldn’t ask nicely, could you? You like to be in charge, huh?”
A sly grin spread across his face. “Baby, you have no idea.”
Chapter 5
The car ride was quick and silent other than the sound of a Ray LaMontagne song playing in the background. Before I knew it, Grant was holding open the passenger door for me to climb out of the car. “Where are we?” I asked.
“My favorite restaurant,” Grant said as he grabbed my hand and led me from the parking lot to the pizza place. “You can’t find pizza like this anywhere else in the city. It’s one of the things I miss about New York.”
“You lived in New York?” I asked as he held the door and then led me to a booth covered in red plastic material. Grant did not fit in this restaurant. Here we were in a casual pizza place with me in a lace cocktail dress and him in his three-piece tailored suit. Ridiculous.
“Yeah. Right after college. What do you like on your pizza?” He signaled for the waiter, a young hippie guy with shaggy brown hair and a hat turned backward on his head.
“Umm…whatever is fine.”
He ordered a deluxe pizza and two waters. When the waiter had walked away, I asked, “What made you move back here?”
“Promotion. I work for the company my grandfather started, so when it was time for me to take my seat on the board, it made more sense for me to live here.”
“What is it that you do?” I really knew nothing about this man except for the fact that he was unbelievably sexy.
“A little of this, a little of that. My turn.” He leaned fo
rward, pressing his elbows onto the table. “Why’d you move here?”
Nothing says sexy like telling a new man about your divorce. “Tara is one of my sorority sisters, and she offered me a job.”
“So, you up and move here from Georgia?” The way he asked the question made it sound like he didn’t believe me.
“Yes. It was time for a change, and she offered me an opportunity. Wait…how did you know I was from Georgia?”
He grinned mischievously. “Your accent.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “My accent says southern. How did you know I was from Georgia?”
His smug grin didn’t fade. He kept his hands clasped together, showing me just how relaxed he was. “Are you always this suspicious? I thought it was my turn to find out about you.”
“Apparently you already know all about me, so what is there to talk about?” I leaned back and crossed my arms defiantly. That was likely the position I would be taking whenever I was around him, which wouldn’t be often after tonight. He was really too overwhelming for me. He was too attractive, too intense, too arrogant, and too controlling. The combination was just too much.
He smirked. “I don’t know much about you. All Sabrina knew was that you were moving here from Georgia.”
“Ah.” I didn’t know what else to say. Either he had asked about me or Sabrina had shared information about me. It didn’t bother me either way since it didn’t seem too personal. What I did find strange was that he talked to Sabrina. Were they friends? Lovers? Perhaps he was her baby daddy? Ugh. I had to stop.
The pizza was delivered while I was still trying to come up with a response to his last statement. Grant expertly served a slice onto each plate. I picked off the peppers and onions carefully with a fork. As I picked off the last pepper and checked for hidden onions he said, “Is this what you meant by being agreeable? Why didn’t you just tell me that you don’t like onions or peppers on your pizza? Better yet, why didn’t you just tell me what you usually order?”
