The Successor

by Alina Jacobs

  “You returned from Syria only three days ago,” one reporter said. “Is this how you thought you would be spending your first few days back home?”

  Grant laughed and ran his fingers through his short-cropped hair. “No, ma’am, this was not how I expected it to go. Though I will say being in a jail cell is actually a lot more relaxing than chasing after the terrorists and dodging rockets.” That earned him another chuckle from the press.

  “What are your plans for the future?” another reporter asked.

  “I’m looking to get out of the military, maybe go to college, find a girl, and finally settle down. Definitely spoil Gus.”

  The puppy gave a small bark.

  “You’ve certainly earned it,” the mayor said, applauding, then she took back the microphone. “We here in Barton want to thank Sergeant Jones for all he’s done for our town and, more importantly, for our country.”

  Resisting the urge to gag, Grant leaned over the lectern microphone and said, “Thank you, Mayor, and don’t forget to vote in the upcoming election!” He winked.

  The crowd chuckled.

  The mayor said with a laugh, “I did not tell him to say that!”

  Grant smiled at her and gave her a hug. The press took pictures. Finally, when he had finished shaking hands, the police gave him his bags back.

  “Ready to go?” Kate asked him.

  Grant yawned.

  “I need to take back my rental car,” he told her.

  “Already taken care of,” she replied. “Your father has told me to make sure you have everything you need.”

  “Is that so?” Grant said and followed her to the BMW. They drove through the small town, out to a private airfield.

  I didn’t even know this was here, Grant thought. It was as if a whole other world existed parallel to the one where he had lived in a tiny cinder-block house with his adoptive parents.

  “Wow,” he said as they drove right up onto the airstrip. There was a Gulfstream jet, all black, parked on the runway. Grant could tell his mouth was hanging open in surprise, and he shut it but couldn’t keep his eyes from bugging out.

  “This is one of the smaller and older of Mr. Holbrook’s—your father’s—planes. He has a fleet. The nicer one is in the shop currently, so unfortunately, we have to take this one.”

  “This seems fine to me,” Grant said.

  One of the flight attendants, wearing an impeccably tailored suit, descended the staircase.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Holbrook,” he said.

  Grant was taken aback. “Oh no, it’s Jones,” he corrected him.

  “Of course,” the man said. “My apologies.”

  “You’ll be a Holbrook soon,” Kate told him with a smile.

  Grant didn’t know what to think about that. He had been Jones his entire life. Except that he had been adopted, so maybe Jones wasn’t really his name and Holbrook was. He shook his head. He was too tired for this. He just wanted to sleep. He followed Kate up the stairs into the plane.

  “Good night,” he murmured. The interior of the plane had deep, creamy leather seats. There were black and brass accents on the tables and wall moldings that were punctuated by large round windows. Grant hugged Gus closer to his chest, suddenly self-conscious about his disheveled uniform. His stay in the jail cell hadn’t done it any favors, either.

  “Have a seat,” Kate said to him.

  “Do you have a towel or anything to sit on?” he asked desperately. He didn’t want to ruin the light-colored leather with his filthy uniform.

  She raised a perfect eyebrow and quirked her mouth. He couldn’t help but stare. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He tried to shake off the feeling. It was only because he had been in a war zone for the past eight months, surrounded by the smelliest, nastiest, filthiest Marines that side of the Atlantic. He was just latching onto the first pretty face he saw.

  “Would a towel make you more comfortable?” she asked him.

  He nodded, and she waved one of the flight attendants over, and he draped a blanket over the seat. It was probably the nicest blanket Grant had ever seen.

  “I meant like an old towel,” Grant said after a moment.

  “This is all that we have, sir,” the flight attendant said. “I’m very sorry.”

  “No, no,” Grant said, “it’s fine.” He settled down gingerly, buckled his seat belt, and settled Gus on his lap.

  “Good evening,” the captain said over the intercom after they had taken off and were speeding through the air. “We are at a cruising altitude of thirty-five thousand feet. We will be reaching Westchester County Airport in approximately two hours.”

  But Grant didn’t hear any of it. He was sound asleep.

  Chapter 3

  Kate

  Kate watched Grant sleep sprawled in the plush leather seat on the private jet. Gus was on his back in Grant’s lap, his round belly rising and falling with every breath. Grant seemed so peaceful. The light from the setting sun accented the angles on his face. He had his father’s cheekbones and jaw structure.

  He also had his charisma. Kate was beyond impressed with his performance at the press conference. As she had been cleaning him up, she was silently strategizing how she would have to beg her contacts at the networks to spin the story in their favor. But Grant was a natural. He had had no prep and no debriefing. There hadn’t been any time, and Kate didn’t want to frazzle him and potentially make the situation worse. It was a gamble, but it had paid off—Grant had the press eating out of his hand.

  She checked Twitter on her phone. Everyone was going crazy for the sergeant. The headlines read Marine Rescues Puppy and Medal of Honor Recipient Apprehends Child Kidnapper. She played the clips of the press conference. Grant came off as personable, strong, and authoritative. The press and blogosphere were falling over themselves to praise him.

  And now he sleeps like a little kid, she thought. He had one hand curled around the dog, his large watch almost the same size as Gus’s head.

  Who dumps a corgi on the side of the road? Kate wondered. Oh, that’s right—someone who abducts small children. Just for rescuing the corgi alone, she already liked Grant. She checked her phone. There was a message from Walter Holbrook.

  Impressive performance by Grant today. I won’t be in tonight, but I imagine seeing me for the first time since he was a baby would probably be too much for him, anyway. Get him settled and let him know I will be in for dinner with him tomorrow. Thank you, Kate. I couldn’t do this without you.

  Kate wrote back.

  I’ve got you covered

  She scrolled through more articles on the internet. Someone had even posted a video of Grant attacking Tedson in the parking lot. He moved like a fighter; he was what all those teenage boys on the internet wished they could be. There were already memes all over Reddit of the marine and his dog.

  When you just want to play with your corgi but you have to save the world, read one meme that had taken a still from the footage of the fight. Gus was barking, and Grant stood like a superhero right after giving the knockout punch to Tedson, who was mid-fall to the pavement. There was also a Tumblr fan page set up, and the event was trending on Twitter.

  “Well, he’s officially viral,” she said to herself.

  Wendy, one of the flight attendants, came by with sparkling water and a cheese-and-fruit tray. She smiled as she saw the picture on Kate’s phone. “You can’t buy that kind of good publicity,” she said softly. “Good thing he takes after his father, not his mother, eh?”

  “Absolutely,” Kate whispered back. “I think we dodged a bullet on this one.”

  “More like a nuclear bomb,” countered the flight attendant.

  She and Kate looked at Grant for a moment.

  The flight attendant sighed. “If only I were ten years younger…”

  “And not married!” Kate added with a small laugh.

  The flight attendant gave her a playful shove.

  “You should make a move. You coul
d be the next Mrs. Holbrook. You guys would be perfect together. Besides,” she said conspiratorially, “I think he really likes you.”

  Kate blushed. “I can’t. I work for his father… and Grant now, technically. It’s not right.”

  “I don’t think Mr. Holbrook would mind. You come from a good family. You aren’t some gold digger.”

  Kate shook her head. “No, I’ll just keep to myself. Someone has to look after my grandmother.”

  Besides, she thought, I can’t be trusted in a relationship. And if Grant or anyone else ever found out what happened in my past, it would destroy everything.

  “Eat your snack,” the flight attendant said, walking away. “We’ll be landing soon.”

  It was evening when they reached Connecticut. Grant started when the wheels touched down on the ground. Gus barked as his owner looked around wild-eyed, breathing hard.

  “It’s okay,” Kate said soothingly. “We’ve arrived.”

  Grant nodded silently.

  “Here,” Kate said as the plane taxied. “Drink some water.” She cupped his chin and lifted the bottle of sparkling water to his lips. Grant sipped some as Kate petted his hair.

  “Come on,” she said. “Let’s go home.”

  The flight attendant gave him a sympathetic smile.

  Grant shook the captain’s and copilot’s hands as he exited the plane, saying, “Thank you.”

  “Take care,” the captain said. “I was in the Air Force and flew over Afghanistan and Iraq. It gets easier. Just take it a day at a time.”

  “Yes, sir,” Grant replied.

  “Off we go,” Kate said, taking Grant by the arm. “I’m sure all the events of the last couple days and returning home from your deployment is catching up to you. It’s a half-hour drive to the house, and then you can take a shower and rest.”

  Chapter 4

  Grant

  Grant barely registered the drive through the suburbs and small towns to the Holbrook estate in New Cardiff.

  He got impressions of historic, well-kept, ornate buildings and elaborate estates, their lights distant through the carefully manicured landscapes and trees.

  As they sped past one burned-out old mansion, he got a brief whiff of smoke, but he was too tired to wonder about it. Gus was energetic and upbeat, and he bounced from Grant’s lap to Kate’s to look out the windows and bark at the lights as they passed.

  Finally, the car pulled up to a tall black gate. The security guard buzzed it open, and they went up a long, winding driveway lined by huge trees.

  Grant whistled as they approached the house. Actually, it was more than a house—it was a mansion. The three-story stone building had a tall peaked roofline punctuated by dormers.

  The car pulled up to the front of the house. Perfectly manicured bushes edged the walkway and stairs up to the arched arcade marking the front door. Grant was too in awe to feel out of place. Gus bounced around him in excitement at all the new smells. Grant opened the door, and the dog burst out and graced one of the bushes with his presence. In the distance, Grant saw other outbuildings. Perhaps a detached garage? What else would someone have on their land?

  “This is a twenty-acre estate,” Kate informed him. “It’s large for this area. There is a pool, tennis courts, and a climate-controlled garage for Mr. Holbrook’s antique car collection, plus another garage for everyday cars. There is also a stable for three horses. Tomorrow, I’ll give you a full tour of the grounds. It’s a really beautiful property. It was designed by Frederick Law Olmsted—he’s the famous landscape architect who designed Central Park.”

  “Oh” was all Grant could say. He was still a bit in shock from all the wealth.

  The feeling of being overwhelmed intensified when the butler ushered them through the largest front door Grant had seen outside of the military—and it was much nicer than any of those doors.

  The foyer was a creamy white with large beams on the ceilings, arched doorways leading to various rooms and hallways, and rich, dark wooden floors. An ornate blown-glass chandelier hung from the ceiling. On the wall was a large portrait of a man Grant assumed was Walter Holbrook along with three young children, two girls and a boy. They were smiling broadly. They looked happy. Grant didn’t think he ever looked that happy with his adoptive parents. Feeling off-kilter, he picked up Gus. He did not want the puppy make a mess in the pristine house.

  “Right this way, Mr. Holbrook.” The butler had a light Eastern European accent.

  “Should I take off my boots?” he asked uncertainly.

  “However you feel most comfortable,” the butler replied. Grant opted to tread carefully in his boots as he followed the butler up the sweeping staircase. The butler and Kate chitchatted as they walked through the enormous house. Grant struggled to follow their conversation and take in the opulent surroundings.

  “Here we are,” the butler said as he opened a door to a tastefully decorated room. “This will be your suite, Mr. Holbrook.”

  “It’s Grant Jones,” Grant corrected. “You can call me Grant.”

  “As you wish.” The butler led him in. “Your bags will be brought up shortly.”

  Grant looked around the enormous room.

  “This is the sitting room,” the butler told him. “We can bring up a meal for you.” He pointed to the table. “There is a desk, outfitted with stationery, pens, stamps, and the like. Whatever you need, do not hesitate to let me know, and I will procure it for you.”

  Grant nodded.

  “This is the bedroom.” The butler opened a set of French doors that led to a room painted gray with a dark-charcoal accent wall. There was a huge bed in the center of the wall. It had a clean, masculine dark-metal frame. The butler led him through another set of double doors. “This is the closet. I wasn’t sure what your sizing was. These are some of Walter’s old clothes. We will take your measurements and have suits, shirts, and pants made for you shortly. Place any laundry you want cleaned in the hamper, and hang items for dry cleaning here.” He pointed.

  “And through here is the bathroom.” The bathroom was almost the same size as the bedroom. There was a glass-enclosed shower and a separate tub. Across from a window was a huge vanity with a marble top. “Through that door, you reach the bedroom, and this one leads us back to the sitting room. If you would follow me.”

  The suite was bigger than the garage apartment he had lived in with his adoptive parents when he was a child before they moved to the cinder-block house. He followed the butler back to the sitting room, where Kate waited.

  “Will this room be okay?” she asked him.

  “Yes,” he said, “it’s perfect.”

  “Great!” She smiled brightly at him. He felt melty inside.

  I need to just fuck her and get it out of my system, he thought then immediately chastised himself.

  “I’ll leave you to rest,” she said. “Tomorrow, I’ll join you for breakfast and take you through the grounds and New Cardiff Township. It will be fun!”

  After she left, the butler told him, “I’ll have some light supper brought up for you.”

  “Thank you,” Grant said. “What’s your name?”

  “Stefan.”

  “Thank you, Stefan.”

  “My pleasure,” Stefan replied as he left the suite.

  Grant took a long, hot shower. He wasn’t sure what to do about Gus, so he stuck him in the tub and hoped that he didn’t make a mess. When he went into the sitting room, there was sliced steak, broiled vegetables, some sort of pasta, and a salad waiting for him. There was also a small plate of cheese and fruit. On a wooden platform were two bowls, one with water and one with small cut-up bits of chicken and broccoli for Gus. The pup raced over to it and devoured the meal. Grant fed him small pieces of his own meal since Gus looked as if he was still hungry.

  His bags had also been brought up, but Grant didn’t bother to unpack. “We’re only staying a day, maybe two,” he said to Gus. “Just until I figure out what my biological father wants and how much
he’s willing to pay me to go away. I bet there’s some sort of contract for me to keep my mouth shut.” The puppy started wandering around the room anxiously.

  “I bet you need to go out,” Grant said. He found a coat in the closet and shoved his boots back on. His uniform had been taken away to be cleaned, he supposed.

  He tucked the dog under his arm and went outside then set Gus down on the perfectly manicured lawn.

  “Hello there,” said a female voice.

  “Kate,” Grant said, turning to look at her.

  She smiled at him.

  “Thanks for everything,” he said to her.

  “Are you settling in?” she asked. She was wearing some sort of asymmetrical coat. She looked so elegant standing there in the soft light from the windows. She had changed out of her heels and was wearing thin canvas sneakers. Just seeing her delicate ankles in those shoes as she shifted her balance was making Grant crazier than a repressed nineteenth-century professor.

  “Do you live here?” he asked.

  “I live with my grandmother on the next property over,” she told him.

  “I see.”

  Grant was feeling warm from the shower and the meal, and Kate was looking up at him, her hazel eyes almost green in the light. He reached out and ran his hands down the side of the coat. It was soft, and the calluses on his hands caught on the delicate threads.

  “What are you doing?” Kate said with a breathy laugh.

  Grant pulled her close to him and kissed her. She didn’t struggle, just melted into his arms, so he kissed her harder and let his tongue slide into her mouth. He came up for a breath then kissed her neck while he slid one hand up her thigh, under her dress.

  Kate’s brain seemed to catch up to what her body was doing. She pushed his hands off and stepped back from him. Her face was flushed.

  “Sorry,” Grant said, not meaning it.

  “I have to go,” she told him, then she turned and practically ran off. Grant let out a long stream of curse words, dropping into a nearby chair.