by Paige Tyler
Since running into Grayson here at the library last week, I’ve popped into the place every chance I’ve gotten since, but he’s been completely MIA. It’d been Sutton’s idea to keep coming back in the hopes of spotting him again after she and Liv realized exactly how smitten I’d become after meeting Grayson that single time, but so far, I’ve had no luck. Also, because I’m continually returning to the same location, I’ve had to make up a disguise or two to keep the G&G fans off my trail. Today, I opted for shades and a floppy, but not overly large Panama hat to go with my cute flower-print sundress. I don’t usually wear sunglasses and a hat indoors, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Unfortunately for me, Grayson is a no show to our intentional-accidental rendezvous.
When the clock’s long hand does one more lap around its face, I let out a sigh of defeat.
This is insane. I can’t just sit here wasting my time waiting for a guy to show up out of nowhere. He might be a total cutie, but this boss babe has business to attend to.
Frowning, I pack up my things and slide them into my oversized purse. I’d already finished up my meetings for today, so there’s nothing left to do but go home and take George on a well-deserved walk down the beach. Today is Friday, and Friday is always George’s day—after I finish up last-minute videos anyway. I even get him a puppy ice cream cone from the vendor that pops up on the dog side of the beach. There’s almost nothing I like more than spending time with my sweet, energetic fur baby.
My frown turns into a smile. I can still vividly remember the day I found George a few months back. The poor dog had been so malnourished and tiny that it broke my heart. I knew the moment our eyes met that I was supposed to rescue him. Maybe it was because his frightened, sad gaze reminded me of myself when I was a little girl.
The police found me when I was four years old, left alone in the tiny apartment I shared with my mother after she’d stumbled out the door a few days earlier. I don’t know for sure, but I think a neighbor heard me crying myself to sleep night after night, but when they came to check on me, I was too scared to answer the door for anyone who knocked. That’s when they finally called the cops.
I was dirty and grimy and hungry and much too young then to understand my mother’s vices, or why she’d allowed them to steal her from this world. All I knew was that I was alone with no one to cling to, no one to call family. It wasn’t like my dad was in the picture. He up and left before I was born. I didn’t even know his name. Heck, maybe my mom didn’t, either. After her passing, I bounced from foster home to foster home, and while some of them were definitely better than others, I never quite found my place or felt like I fit in at any of them.
It was art that ultimately saved me. I don’t even recall how I got my first paint set now. It was a cheap plastic one with watercolors that barely had any pigment at all, but to me, it was beautiful. Painting made me finally feel alive. When I discovered makeup as a teen, I found it just as magical. The face, I realized, could be a canvas, too. Not only had art rescued me. It also got me a scholarship to USC and led me to Sutton and Liv.
Had I not gotten that cheap little paint set, my whole life could’ve followed a different path.
That’s something that resonates with me a lot. It’s why I’m always making sure G&G is assisting different fundraisers around LA, as well as elsewhere in the country. There’s always good to be done, and even a little bit goes a long way.
Shaking my head hard, I hold my hat down against my long, blond hair as I step out of the library so the breeze doesn’t snatch it.
I don’t normally dwell on my childhood or even my past. There’s nothing I can change about it. I can only hope to grow from the experience. If I can use my fame and wealth to help one other foster or underprivileged kid find their footing and their way in the world, then I’m doing something right.
As I make my way down the sidewalk back toward the garage where my car is parked, a flash of broad shoulders and dark hair through a café window catches my eye.
I skid to a halt and whirl back around, practically plastering myself against the window so I can peer inside.
A tall man in a navy-blue suit is standing in line with his back to me. He shifts from one toned leg to the other, his hands on his hips, as he inspects the café menu. I can’t see his eyes, but I know they’re a delicious shade of rich mocha brown—and not the kind of java Sutton makes—but the velvety smooth and addicting kind that you never want to stop sipping.
“Grayson!” I gasp under my breath.
It has to be him.
Just saying his name out loud has my heart pounding in my chest.
I can hardly believe my eyes. Or my luck. I’ve finally found my mystery man. I have to get in there. But I also have to play it cool. I absolutely cannot let this guy know that I’ve been stalking him for the past several days.
Swallowing hard, I inhale through my nose and glide into the café. There’s no time to waste. I’ve regretted letting him slip off my radar for days and I’m not going to let it happen again.
My gaze skims my surroundings, barely noting the cute tables with their vases of fresh flowers, as I pinpoint my target yet again. There are a few people who’ve formed a line behind him now, so I take my place at the end. All the while, I try and figure out how to let him know I’m there. I can’t simply reach over and tap him on the shoulder. That’s way too boring. Plus, if I call out his name, I will totally die of embarrassment if he turns around and doesn’t recognize me—and not in the he-doesn’t-know-me-from-social-media-fame way. It’d been adorable the first time, but if he’s forgotten who I am since our last meeting, I’d melt into a mortified puddle.
What would Sutton and Liv tell me to do?
Liv would no doubt suggest that I play it coy and bat my eyes and wait for him to turn around. Sutton, on the other hand, would advise me to throw myself right into his arms.
While my mind is racing, the barista sets Grayson’s order on the counter. He reaches for the cup without even looking at it, his nose buried in a book. He turns around, still not looking up, and starts to walk right by me. I absently note that today his dress shirt is a soft green and that the colors in his tie are the perfect match to both the shirt and suit.
I have two choices: do something desperate or go back to lurking in the library. And let me tell you, I am tired of the uncomfortable wooden chairs they have there.
It’s go time, Kali, I urge myself silently.
I slide the top of one wedge sandal just an inch out as stealthily as I can, deftly hooking Grayson’s foot as he walks by. He stumbles immediately but thankfully my calculations are spot on and he doesn’t drop his coffee—or worse, fall on his face.
“Oh, my!” I say apologetically. I can’t help but think Sutton would be super proud of this performance. “I am so sorry—” I pause, feigning a shocked gasp. “Grayson? It is you! We really ought to stop meeting like this.”
I flutter my lashes, pulling my shades down so I can gaze into the pools of his chocolate eyes. He really is way too handsome for words.
He straightens and one corner of his mouth quirks upward. I thank all my lucky stars that he seems to remember me because there’s amused recognition dancing across his face now.
“I personally love the thrill,” he offers playfully. Standing fully upright, he towers over me and I have to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. Adjusting his tie, he gestures at the barista who’s now waiting for my order. “Getting some coffee?”
I nod and pause long enough to order my favorite drink—a soy lavender latte with dried strawberries sprinkled on top—before turning back toward Grayson. When I face him again, I note that his eyes had been wandering over me. His gaze quickly returns to my face, but his smile has widened slightly. A blush threatens to wash over my cheeks, but I somehow manage to keep my cool.
“Your name. What is it? I want to get it now in case you vanish on me again.” Grayson is still grinning and I can’t get enough of it
.
I pick up my drink and take a slow sip, all the while, keeping my blue eyes on Grayson’s brown ones.
“A girl has to have some mystery about her. Don’t you think?” I pause for a second to let him laugh. “But my name is Kali. Kali Lang.”
“Kali...” he repeats. He takes his time saying it, like he’s tasting it on his tongue. Again, a shiver trembles up my spine. “I like it. It’s unique. Like you.”
“You think?”
He chuckles dryly. “I know.” He glances at an empty table in the back corner of the café, then back at me. “Do you have a minute before you disappear so we can sit and chat? I kept wishing we’d had more time to talk at the library.”
For a second, I find myself hesitating again. As good as I am at juggling tons of things at once, I’m honestly not sure if a boy-toy is one of them. But this particular guy isn’t a boy-toy. He’s all man. I can tell that much. And I couldn’t walk away from him again even if I wanted to.
“I’d like that,” I murmur before allowing him to lead me to the booth that’s thankfully located in the back of the café.
After we sit, I take off my glasses, but I keep my hat on to provide at least some cover.
“So, Kali,” Grayson begins in an effortless, curious voice. He leans back in his seat and appraises me with eyes that are so sincerely intrigued in me that I almost lose my breath. “Tell me about yourself.”
I gaze right back at him, wishing it was that simple.
CHAPTER FIVE
My heart beats faster in my chest as Grayson gazes inquisitively at me. He continues sipping his coffee, which looks to be an Americano.
He’s waiting for me to open up and tell him about myself, and I love the fact that he’s looking at me like I’m merely some regular girl. I mean, in lots of ways, I am a regular girl. I love to have fun. I love to flip through magazines. I love to stay up late watching Netflix and chowing down on popcorn and wine. I love hanging out with my besties. I just so happen to be a regular girl with millions of people hanging on my every word. I don’t want Grayson to feel like he’s competing with that attention any more than I want him to feel like there’s nothing I crave more than that attention.
Right now, he’s simply a guy and I’m simply a girl and we’re trying to have a simple conversation. I want to keep it that way.
“I do makeup for a living,” I answer as nonchalantly as possible.
His brows lift, but then he nods. “That’s awesome. It makes sense, actually. You look beautiful.”
This time, my face really does burn bright red. Hopefully, it’s concealed by the dim lighting of the café and my flawlessly applied foundation.
“What about you?” I ask, eager to turn the conversation back on him.
He clears his throat, eyes shifting away briefly. “I’m a lawyer. I’m a junior associate at my firm.”
Wow. I did not expect that.
I choke on my latte and hardly manage to painfully swallow down a mouthful of hot, but deliciously smooth coffee. “That’s incredible! You’re so young, too. Making junior associate so fast must’ve been tough.”
“Really tough,” he murmurs quietly before clearing his throat. “Let’s just say I had a lot of motivation to work hard.”
Silence briefly falls over the table as we sip our drinks and gaze at one another. Surprisingly, it isn’t an uncomfortable silence. In fact, it’s kind of nice. When I’m with my girls, there isn’t a moment of quiet. Sutton or Liv or I are always going a mile a minute. There’s always something to do and something to say. This—whatever it is right here between Grayson and me—feels really nice.
Is this what it feels like to be normal? Right now, there’s no pressure to be perfect or flawless. I can simply be me.
“Tough things make us resilient,” I offer quietly.
Even though I desperately want to, I don’t press him for details about his career. I can see something simmering in his eyes, something he isn’t quite ready to talk about. I understand that completely. We all have our secrets, don’t we?
He lifts his chin and his eyes again meet mine. He nods and a slow, small smile curves his delicious looking lips.
Lips I suddenly want to kiss.
I hastily take another sip of coffee—which isn’t nearly as hot so I don’t burn my mouth—and then ask, “Where’d you study law, Grayson?”
I’ve got to keep this conversation going. One, if I don’t speak then he’s going to start asking questions about me, and I’m not exactly a very good liar. Actually, I’m a dreadful liar. Which means I’m only going to be able to play it coy for a limited time. And two, I really do want to know as much as I can about Grayson. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him since our first meeting, and I want to know every detail possible before we go our separate ways again.
The idea bums me out more than I care to admit.
But he’s a lawyer and I’m a beauty influencer. We both have full schedules. Could it be that after this cup of coffee, we’re both going to walk right out the door in opposite directions and that will be that? The thought makes my heart twist in my chest, but I resolve to take this conversation one word at a time.
“Stanford Law,” he answers.
I wince. “Sounds expensive.”
Laughing softly, Grayson nods. “Definitely. Funding my tuition felt nearly impossible most of the time, but I managed somehow.”
“And now here you are, ready to take on the world one court case at a time.”
“Cheers to that.”
He gently presses his paper coffee cup against mine and we sip on our drinks again.
Outside, the clouds shift. Warm sunlight dances in through the café window, illuminating golden flecks in Grayson’s chestnut eyes and the strong profile of his handsome nose. Every time I blink, I swear he gets more and more good looking.
“What about you?” Grayson asks curiously. “Did you study makeup somewhere?”
“I studied art, actually, and eventually business, too. I wound up with a dual degree from USC two years ago. Believe me when I say I know how hard it is to fund education. I was lucky to land a scholarship.”
His eyes go a little wide. “That’s impressive.”
The raw sincerity of his tone is enough to catch me off guard. He doesn’t even know me, but he sounds so proud. It’s heartwarming and makes me think his soul just may be as gorgeous as the rest of him.
I feel a twinge of guilt as he grins at me. I almost feel bad for being furtive about my real career because it’s obvious that Grayson is genuine to the core.
For just a little while longer, though, I want things to stay this easy.
“I haven’t sat down and talked like this with someone in a really long time,” he continues. “It’s really nice. I’m usually at the office or trying to wade through piles and piles of paperwork that the senior attorneys pass down. I know it’s worth it, though, if I’m going to prove that I’m every bit of a good lawyer as anyone else.”
I understand exactly what he means. Despite what I’ve already accomplished, sometimes, I still feel like I have to show people I’m actually really good at what I do. But I guess I’m not the only one who feels the weight of that on my shoulders.
“Tell me about it,” I say. “Sometimes it feels like the day’s work is never done.”
Grayson tilts his head to the side so he can give me yet another long, intrigued look. “So, what do you do for fun then? To relieve some stress after a long day, I mean. Do you have a man at home to keep you company?”
“Well,” I answer levelly, “there’s George.”
The hunky guy across the cozy café table stops mid-sip of his drink, his eyes narrowing in shock. “George?” he sputters, clearing his throat hard.
“George,” I repeat with an emphatic nod. Unable to help myself, I flash him a feisty grin. “He’s my Labrador mix puppy. I found him wandering the beach near our home a while back—I live with my two best friends, by the way, both girls, if y
ou must know—and he’s been with me ever since.”
Grayson dissolves into husky, easy laughter. He shakes his head and rests his forearms on the table, leaning closer. Our drinks have been pushed aside now, abandoned in our conversation.
“A lab, huh? I always wanted a dog growing up,” Grayson murmurs wistfully, his dark eyes taking on a faraway look for a second. “My parents wouldn’t have it, though. They aren’t animal people, which says everything you need to know about them. Give George a treat for me when you get home?”
I assure him I will just as his phone rings sharply. He sighs and checks his cell before lifting his enchanting gaze back to me.
“That’s my cue. I’ve got to run. I guess it’s my turn to vanish.”
I wink and hold up a playfully lecturing finger. “The difference is that you’re saying goodbye. That doesn’t count as vanishing.”
Grinning, Grayson slides out of the booth and grabs his briefcase along with the book he stashed inside when we first sat down. Instead of walking away, he leans down so that he’s bent over me, his hand pressed against the back of the seat near my face. He’s so close that when he speaks, the heat of his breath drifts over my cheek, sending a wave of goosebumps down the side of my neck.
“What if I don’t say goodbye then?” he asks in a low, playful voice that’s almost a growl.
It’s only when my lungs start screaming for air that I realize I’m holding my breath. I don’t have it in me to even respond.
Fortunately, he doesn’t wait for me to answer. “La Chanterelle. Let me take you out, Kali. I didn’t get a real answer last time and it nearly drove me crazy. I have to try again.”
I shake my head, but it isn’t until his face falls that I finally remember how to speak.
“Not La Chanterelle,” I say softly. “How about Franco’s Burgers instead?”
He blinks hard, seeming as stunned that I’d finally agreed to go out with him as he was that I’d suggested a burger shack. “Franco’s? That tiny place on the beach?”
