“Bethany Brown,” she said holding out her hand. Judging from the look on her face, she was gearing up for a request. “Features editor, Michigan Avenue magazine.”
Christ. He was hoping for Crain’s or even Chicago, certainly not fashion and fluff.
“What can I do for you, Ms. Brown?”
“I was wondering if I might ask you a few questions?”
“Only if you promise to be gentle,” Cole said, flashing her his most effective smile.
Like clockwork, the young woman blushed. “I’ll try my best.”
“Then fire away.” Cole straightened his tie as he prepared for the usual barrage. Interviews like this were always the same. What type of cologne do you wear, Mr. Grant? Can you describe your perfect first date? And his all-time favorite, boxers or briefs? Honestly, where was the originality?
She cleared her throat and slid a button on the mini recorder. “What made you decide to elope when your wedding would have no doubt been the event of the decade?”
Not the most original, but extra points for being up to date. The news of his marriage had broken less than thirty minutes ago.
He took a sip of his scotch, letting the warm amber liquid coat his throat as he contemplated how best to phrase his answer. “I’m a man of action, Ms. Brown.” He noticed that her eyes widened ever so slightly. “When I see what I want, I go after it.”
A beat of silence passed between them, affording Cole an opportunity to take another sip of his scotch, not to mention hide his smirk behind the glass. This might actually be fun, he thought. But then the music stopped, and the band leader asked for everyone’s attention.
Forget fun. Something told him all hell was about to break loose.
Chapter Thirteen
After a few spins of the wheel, Olivia began to relax, and before she knew it, she was actually having fun. Until the music stopped and the bandleader asked for everyone’s attention.
Conor leaned closer and began to hum Darth Vader’s “Imperial Death March” in Olivia’s ear. She was about to ask him what that was all about but then a petite woman in a navy-blue gown made her way onto the dais. Her platinum blond hair was swept up in a flawless French twist, and even from the rear of the ballroom Olivia could see that her neck, wrist, and ears glittered with diamonds. From the angle, it was difficult to see the woman’s face, but still, there was no doubt in Olivia’s mind. The woman reaching for the microphone was none other than Meredith Vanderholden Grant.
“Good evening everyone,” she said. “I’d like to thank you so much for coming tonight. As many of you know, the Grant Family Foundation was started many years ago by my late son and his wife, Evaline. Through your generous support, the Foundation will not only be able to continue funding the nine charities already bearing the Grant name, but I am pleased to announce the addition of the Meredith Vanderholden Grant Pediatric Cancer Institute, which will break ground this Spring.”
The news was met with an enthusiastic round of applause.
“Gotta hand it to her,” Conor said. “Kids and cancer. The woman knows how to play to the crowd.” He slugged back the last of his gin and tonic. “And so humble to name it after herself.”
Olivia scanned the room for Cole. He was on the far side of the ballroom beside a bar that was serving drinks out of the cargo door of an old propeller plane. Judging by the look on his face, at least part of what he’d just heard was unwelcome news.
“Now, before I leave you to eat, drink, and gamble the night away,” Meredith continued, “I would be remiss if I didn’t offer a few heartfelt words to my grandson and his new bride.”
Oh shit. Olivia froze. This was not happening. She blinked her eyes—once, twice, three times—but no matter how many times she tried to refocus, the scene in front of her remained the same. Her new grandmother-in-law, the ruthless and conniving Meredith Grant, was about to say a few words on her behalf. In front of a thousand strangers, not to mention the bulk of Chicago’s press.
The cocktail waitress handed Conor a fresh drink, but he held it out for Olivia instead. “Here,” he said, chuckling quietly. “I think you need this more than I do.”
Olivia shook her head. As much as she wanted to toss back a half dozen of those, she needed her wits about her if she had any hope of surviving the rest of the night unscathed. The crowd had erupted into an uproarious round of applause when Meredith broke the news of her grandson’s marriage. All heads had turned as one in search of the happy couple. But seeing as how none of them knew the name of Cole’s new bride, much less what she looked like, all eyes, as well as the ballroom’s spotlight, were trained on the groom, leaving Olivia blissfully in the shadows. At least for a few more minutes.
She watched as Cole stood with his drink in his hand, feigning happiness while shooting daggers at his grandmother. Oblivious to any tension, a few well-wishers approached to shake his hand. A couple of women had reactions of their own as well. As much as it pained her to admit it, seeing a supermodel green with envy gave Olivia a strange sense of satisfaction. It was shallow and petty and while she knew she should have been ashamed of herself, given the shit storm looming on the horizon, she let herself enjoy the feeling.
When the crowd finally settled down, Meredith continued. “Yes, that’s right, ladies and gentlemen, you heard me correctly, Chicago’s most eligible bachelor is officially off the market.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I must admit, I never thought I’d see the day.” Quiet laughter rolled through the ballroom. “But it seems my dear Cole has met his perfect match.” She shot a tight smile in his direction. When she saw him standing alone at the bar, her smile grew wider. “Oh dear, have you lost her already?” There was more laughter along with a few teasing shouts from the crowd. Olivia had never been the wallflower type but for now she was relishing the role.
It didn’t last long.
“Olivia sweetheart, where are you?” The spotlight shifted off Cole, searching the room for his new bride.
“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath.
“Pretend you’re Princess Kate,” Conor said. “Just smile and give a little wave.”
Tentatively, Olivia raised her hand and did as Conor had suggested. Within a few seconds the spotlight found her.
Meredith squinted into the crowed. “There you are,” she said. “Hope there’s not trouble in paradise already?”
She laughed along with everyone else, but Olivia knew damn well the scene playing out was no joking matter.
A man wearing a headset and holding a clipboard stepped out of the wings with a glass of champagne. He handed it to Meredith. “All kidding aside,” she said, “I couldn’t be happier for my grandson. Family values are the core of Grant Industries, and I know that what his parents wanted more than anything was for him to fully embrace that aspect of their legacy.” She lifted her glass in the air. “Please join me as I toast Cole and Olivia. May the true value of their marriage shine bright for all to see.”
“Wow, I think I’ve got a case of the warm and fuzzies,” Conor said.
Meredith took a sip of champagne, but her little show was far from over. She had one more card to play. “Since these two crazy kids decided to elope, there wasn’t a chance to give them a proper reception. So let’s make some room on the floor and see if we can’t get them to share a first dance with us.”
Holy mother of God. Olivia had to hand it to her, she was a crafty old bitch.
The crowd fanned out, leaving a wide circle in the middle of the dance floor.
Cole cut a direct path across the room. A smile was plastered across his face, but Olivia knew it was for the benefit of the crowd. As he drew closer, the tick in his tightened jaw confirmed her suspicions. He was just as angry as she was.
“I guess we need to dance,” he said as he approached.
Olivia nodded. Thanks to his grandmother’s little stunt, she really had no choice. Meredith was no doubt watching them—the whole room probably was—and if seeing her d
ance with Cole would help authenticate their marriage then so be. That was, after all, why she was there.
Cole offered his arm, and Olivia wrapped her hand around his bicep. Even through his suit coat, she could feel the tension in his muscles. When they reached the center of the cleared floor, he pulled her into his arms. Olivia wanted to keep a respectable distance between them, but seeing as how they were supposed to be happy newlyweds, she forced herself to step closer as the orchestra began to play.
After a few awkward moments, other couples joined them on the dance floor, and the low hum of conversation once again filled the room.
“Have you been enjoying your evening?” Cole asked.
“I have,” Olivia said. “Despite first impressions to the contrary, Conor is actually quite a gentleman.” After a beat, she added, “Unlike some people.”
Cole reared back to look at her. “What have I done to offend you this time?”
“Nothing. That’s the problem, you’ve done absolutely nothing.” Didn’t show her around, didn’t get her another drink. Hell, he didn’t even speak to her. Just threw some cash on the table and was on his merry way.
“For your information, I was attempting to spare you by leaving you behind. Believe me, I would’ve much rather gambled the night away with Conor than spent one more minute talking to anyone in this room. Besides, the less interaction you have with people in my grandmother’s world the better. Less margin for error.”
“You mean less chance for me to fuck up?”
“Semantics,” he said with a smirk, echoing a smart-ass answer she’d once given him.
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You do look lovely tonight,” Cole said in an unexpected change of direction. For a moment, Olivia wondered what his game was, but then he leaned in closer, his breath hot in her ear. “If I didn’t hate you, I might actually want to fuck you.”
Olivia rolled her eyes, knowing full well he couldn’t see her face. “Might? Seems you have. More than once.”
“Memorable for you, were they?”
“Only in so far as both came with massive regret. Some people would start taking that personally.”
Cole pulled back to meet her gaze again, but this time when he spoke his voice was low and rough. “And how about your many orgasms, should I take those personally as well?”
Smug bastard. Olivia broke their eye contact, looking over his shoulder instead. She watched the other couples sway and spin as they moved across the dance floor. Then a gap formed and in the distance she spotted Meredith Grant standing beneath a palm tree, sipping a glass of champagne. A gray-haired gentleman approached, but she waved him off. Seemed she had no time for pleasant distractions, not when there was a hostile takeover to attend to.
“Your grandmother’s watching us.”
“Hmm, then we better give her a good show.” All at once Cole grabbed her around the waist, pulling her body flush against his. The air rushed out of Olivia’s lungs, and she gripped his bicep to steady herself as he twirled them around the dance floor. Her head was still spinning when they came to a stop, but there was no time to recover. Cole bent her back over his arm, and to the delight of the watching crowd, dipped her low. She expected a simple, controlled kiss, just enough to show his grandmother they were truly lovers. What she got instead was raw heat and an undeniable passion.
Cole sealed his mouth over hers, claiming her in a possessive kiss. His fingers slid into her hair, holding her head in place as he thrust his tongue between her lips. And despite their games, she kissed him back, meeting each lush stroke with one of her own as she grew drunk on his intoxicating taste. The heat between them rose and her pulse raced until she could barely hear the cheers and cat calls over the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.
She was breathless when he finally set her on her feet. More than that, all thoughts of evil grandmothers and prying eyes had left her.
Cole stared at her intently. His blue eyes had grown dark. “You know,” he said, “just because we don’t like each other doesn’t mean we can’t be . . .”
“Friends with benefits?”
“So you’ve given this some thought?”
“More like enemies with benefits,” she said, “But yeah, same idea.”
“And?” Cole’s gaze dropped to her mouth and she felt his entire body stiffen.
The atmosphere between them crackled with anticipation as his unanswered question hung in the air. Olivia’s tongue darted out to wet her lips. “It’s not without merit.”
An approving growl vibrated deep within his chest. “I’ll tell Jonathan to bring the car around.”
“But I haven’t met your grandmother yet. Won’t she be pissed if we leave without an introduction?”
“Merely a formality at this point, and one that I can assure you isn’t high on her list. She was more interested in introducing you to the rest of the room.”
“But—”
His hand flexed against her back, pulling her body flush against his until she felt the prod of his erection.
Oh.
“At the moment, a chat with my grandmother is the last thing on my mind.” The details of the night they’d spent together in Las Vegas might have been a bit fuzzy, but the look on Cole’s face brought back a memory so clear it made her knees go weak. He wanted her, now just as he had then. It didn’t matter that they had little in common or that they spent more time sparring than talking, because in moments like these frustration and anger gave way to a different kind of passion, one guided by only instinct and desire.
Cole reached between them and pulled his phone out of the breast pocket of his tuxedo. But before he could make the call, his driver appeared at his side.
“Sir, we have a situation.”
Cole turned away from Olivia as Jonathan whispered the information quickly and discreetly into his ear. Between the music and the hushed tone, it was impossible for Olivia to make out exactly what he was saying, but she very clearly heard the word “Rebecca.” Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach.
Jonathan stepped back, and Cole gave him a tight nod before turning his attention back to Olivia. “I have to go.”
How could she have been so stupid? It had barely been four days since her vow to never sleep with Cole again, and yet there she was ready to spread her legs. Hell, she would have probably let him fuck her in the limo. This was worse than she thought. She needed an intervention. Or maybe a chastity belt. Either way, she’d just dodged a bullet. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Olivia knew she should be grateful for Jonathan’s interruption, and come morning she probably would be. But at the moment, all she felt was anger. Not to mention a bruised ego.
“Of course,” she said. “Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your booty call.”
“My what?”
“Rebecca. Her name pops up on the caller ID at the penthouse all the time. Lots of others too, but she must be a special one. That or you really do have a stalker.”
His eyes flared with rage. “Why didn’t you tell me she called?”
“I’m your fake wife, Cole, not your secretary. If you can’t keep track of your—”
“Rebecca is my sister.”
What? Since when did he have a sister? None of the articles she’d read ever mentioned siblings. “I thought you were an only child?”
“I am.”
“But how—”
“We can discuss my twisted family tree later, Olivia.” The color had drained from Cole’s face. “But I’ve just been told my sister has collapsed, and right now the only thing I can think about is getting to her.”
Collapsed? That sounded more like an illness than an accident but either way it sure as hell wasn’t good. “I’m coming with.”
“No need,” he said. But the worry in his eyes betrayed the gravity of the situation.
A dull ache squeezed Olivia’s chest, and instinctively she reached for his arm. “I’m sorry, Cole. I had no idea. Can I please come
with you?”
He hesitated for a second. “Fine, but keep up.”
And then they were moving. Fast. Faster than any woman should try to move in skyscraper heels, but somehow she managed to keep up. The ride to his sister’s apartment had Olivia wondering if Jonathan’s resume included Formula One driver, because although the trip should have taken at least thirty minutes at that time of night, they arrived in just under ten. Cole was out of the car before it had even rolled to a complete stop. He took the stairs two at a time, then disappeared through the lobby doors.
“Should I wait here?” Olivia asked his driver. She had no idea what condition Cole’s sister was in, and the last thing she wanted to do was intrude on a private family moment.
Jonathan pressed his finger to his ear and for the first time Olivia realized he wore an earpiece not unlike those used by the secret service. “All clear.”
“She’s okay?”
Jonathan nodded then cracked a rare smile. “It’s Mr. Grant you should be worried about right now.”
Olivia frowned. Why should she be worried about Cole? She followed Jonathan up the stairs, and when she reached the top, her question was answered by a raised female voice.
“You have people watching me?” Rebecca practically shouted. She looked so tiny standing toe to toe with her brother, but the expression on her face left no room for doubt. Rebecca could totally hold her own with Cole, if not full on whoop his ass.
Olivia took a step back so she was more in the hallway than the apartment. Not that it mattered. Cole and his sister were far too engrossed in their standoff to take much notice of her. Still, she couldn’t help but feel like she was intruding.
“Not people,” Cole replied. “Members of my security team.” A deep crease formed between Cole’s brows. “Please calm down. You’re going to make yourself worse.”
Black Tie Optional (Wild Wedding Series Book 1) Page 13
