Last Tailored Suit

by Pierce, Nicolette

  Greyson popped out of his seat and crossed over to the freezer, eyeing the selection. It was quite a selection. Seven different brands and flavors were stocked. Did she buy these or had they been sitting in here for years, never eaten? He wasn’t sure if he had ever used this freezer before.

  He felt Jenna move around him. “Can’t find one you like?” she asked, reaching past him to grab a flavor.

  “Did you buy all of these?” he asked.

  “I like ice cream,” she stated, taking a bowl from the cupboard.

  “Apparently.”

  She shot him a withering look.

  He wasn’t one to complain about dessert. He’d eat ice cream or whatever else was put in front of him. But seven different flavors? It was quirky. Something she was not.

  Or was she?

  “Do you want this one?” she asked, passing a bowl over.

  He took the offered bowl and settled back at the table. When she joined him, he said, “Go ahead.”

  “Go ahead with what?” she asked, taking a bite of ice cream.

  Did she just sigh? Over ice cream? Greyson had the impression that she had. Perhaps she was a little quirky after all.

  “With my reprimand,” Greyson said, waiting for a reaction. Nothing. She was too happy eating her ice cream.

  “Later,” she finally said.

  Greyson gave a shrug and worked on his ice cream. It was butter brickle or something like it. It was creamy and buttery, with stuff mixed in. Decent enough. He thought her more of a coffee flavor — strong, bold, and something he wouldn’t enjoy.

  Jenna scraped up the last bite and looked sadly at the empty bowl.

  “There’s more in the freezer,” Greyson said.

  “I’m only allowed one bowl a day,” she stated, pushing the dish away and looking up at him. Her lips thinned and she took on the appearance of the little drill sergeant he had come to know . . . and dread. The change was amazing and unsettling all at the same time. “Let’s get on with this, shall we?”

  Greyson pushed his bowl away as well. “By all means.”

  “This conversation will act as a verbal warning,” she stated, launching into the “constructive criticism” that she had spelled out in her original email to Mr. Miller.

  Greyson stared at her blankly until she neared the end of her “talk,” which was several agonizing minutes long. What he wanted to do was tell her to pack her bags and get the hell out of his house, but he was curious to see just how far she would push him. So, he let her continue.

  “I’m sure you’re a decent person,” she said at the end. “If you take some of my suggestions and follow the new rules that will be established promptly, I foresee you working happily here for a long time. I know with a baby on the way, you’ll need a dependable, well-paying job. With the right work attitude, you can go far. Which brings me to the hedges,” Jenna said as Greyson turned thunderous. “I think it’d be better if we put you in a different role — one more suited to your . . . skills. I don’t know what those are, but it’s obviously not gardening.” Her eyes scanned him. “I am nothing if not reasonable, but perhaps a back-of-the-house position.”

  Greyson’s anger was gone in a flash as he broke into a roaring laugh. Jenna watched him with wide eyes, shock plainly written on her face.

  Still laughing, Greyson pushed back from the table and left Jenna sitting there, puzzled. She quickly stood and followed in his wake.

  “We’re not done yet,” Jenna clipped.

  “I think we are.”

  She reached out to stop him. “No, we’re not!”

  He stopped so suddenly that she smacked up against his back. He turned and glared down at her.

  “You assume far too much,” he growled. “I believe there are some things you should know.”

  Jenna stepped back. “What don’t I know?”

  “What is my name?” he asked.

  Jenna flinched.

  Before she could respond, he said, “You don’t know because you assumed I was a gardener. Am I too lowly to have a name?”

  “Of course not,” she said immediately. “It was an oversight on my part. I was very nervous when I arrived, and I should’ve stopped to properly introduce myself and ask your name. I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. She looked up at him with questioning eyes. “What is your name?”

  At her upturned face, he nearly told her. Let her squirm for a little more, he thought. He turned on his heel and walked out to the patio.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me?” she asked, following closely.

  Greyson stopped at the patio table and pointed down to a large paper spread flat on it. “Another thing you assumed was that I didn’t know what I was doing,” he said.

  Jenna leaned over to look at the design for an extensive garden that included a maze. Of course it was made of hedges. She looked up sheepishly, but then took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

  “I owe you another apology,” she said. “Clearly you were following instructions that I was unaware of.”

  Greyson gave a slight nod of acknowledgement.

  “I’d like to start over,” Jenna said, holding out her hand. “My name is Jenna Newman, I’m the new manager. I’m very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

  Greyson looked down at her outstretched hand waiting patiently for him to shake it. He took it firmly and pulled her up against him. She gave a startled squeak, gazing up at him as if not knowing what to expect. “Nice to meet you, Jenna Newman,” he fairly snarled. “I’m Greyson Miller.”

  Chapter 6

  Jenna’s rounded eyes were locked onto Greyson’s, her hand still caught in his.

  “Stunned into silence, Ms. Newman?” Greyson taunted.

  She nodded.

  Dropping her hand, he turned his back on her. He had to get away from her. He was either going to toss her out the front door on her lovely ass, or he was going to kiss her on her surprised lips. Neither were options. Damn women. Damn her.

  “How dare you!” Jenna yelled.

  Greyson returned to her in two strides, glaring. “How dare I?” He had to shove his hands in his pockets to keep from grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. Or kissing her. Again, neither were options.

  Why in the world he’d even have a single thought about kissing her was beyond him.

  “You could have cleared up the confusion right away had you wanted to. Instead, you teased me along, laughing at my mistakes.”

  “I can guarantee I wasn’t laughing at your mistakes,” he retorted. “You’ve been an annoying thorn since you arrived. Why should I correct your assumptions? You were far too quick to judge. I have no tolerance for those who judge without first getting the facts.”

  “Facts? You never gave me any facts. You’ve been dodging me since I arrived.”

  “I don’t dodge,” he said flatly. “The facts have been under your nose this entire time. We are the only two people here. You already know where I shower. How many times can the obvious be placed under your nose for you to accept it as reality? Be honest, Jenna. You thought I looked like a gardener and so you never considered the possibility I could be your boss. It makes me wonder what your made-up version of Mr. Miller looks like.”

  He could feel the anger coming off her in tidal waves. It matched his.

  “Nothing to say?” he clipped.

  “I quit,” she said, her voice edged with steel. “I’ll be gone in the morning.”

  “I’ll expect a letter of resignation before you go,” he stated and strode into the house, leaving her behind.

  * * *

  Greyson Miller.

  Jenna was in a mix of tears, half laughing at her own stupidity, yet feeling like someone had pounded her in the stomach. What a complete blunder. She wouldn’t blame herself entirely, however. Greyson could have stopped her with one commanding word. He seemed quite capable of delivering commanding words just now. But she did own a large portion of the blame. If she hadn’t been so nervous and impatient to meet M
r. Miller, she would’ve seen what she had so obviously missed.

  Even when he was covered in dirt, he still had a presence about him. And his eyes . . . God, they were molten steel when he glared at her. She had learned her lesson. It was a hard one, but one she’d never forget nor repeat.

  Wiping the tears from her eyes, Jenna treaded softly through the house, hoping she wouldn’t run into Greyson. She’d lock herself in her room for the night and leave at first light. Going where, she had no idea. She couldn’t go back. It wasn’t safe.

  Jenna stood in the entryway, soaking it in for the last time. She had felt safe here. For the first time in a long time, she felt safe. It was a new record. A total of two days.

  As she moved to the staircase, she noticed the study door was cracked open. She stepped over and peeked in, hoping Greyson wasn’t in there. He wasn’t. She opened the door wider and stepped in.

  Even on her first day, she had known this was Greyson’s territory . . . same with his bedroom. She would’ve liked to have met the fantasy Greyson Miller. Instead she met a man who had no business being him. It was almost cruel.

  There was that scent again. It wasn’t as if it was cologne or an overpowering smell. It was like his essence. Never in all her years had she ever picked up on a man’s scent. Sure, there were a few tear-inducing aftershaves, but this was different. Natural. Him.

  She quickly escaped from the study and hurried up the stairs to her room. Locking it behind her, she slumped against the door.

  * * *

  Jenna slipped out of the mansion at pre-dawn with her few bags. Even the birds were still asleep. She hurried over to the garage, hoping to leave before Greyson was the wiser. A confrontation was to be avoided at all costs. She knew it was a coward’s move, but what else was there to say or do?

  No, she would leave and pretend this never happened. Too bad last night’s conversation kept replaying in her head. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just last night’s conversation. The entire two days replayed continuously, reminding her of how idiotic she was. He was right. She shouldn’t have assumed, and she should have corrected her error immediately.

  Too late now.

  Jenna stopped at the side garage door to open it. She placed a bag on the ground to free one of her hands. Gripping the knob, she twisted.

  Oh, no!

  Jenna stared at the locked door. She gave the knob a jiggle, hoping it was only stuck. Luck was not on her side.

  Leaving her bags at the door, she jogged around the garage, searching for a way inside.

  The door remote Greyson had given her was in her car where she had left it. She never assumed she’d need it while she wasn’t inside the car. As far as she knew, Greyson left the side garage door unlocked all the time.

  Each of the five garage doors had a key panel installed on the door frame. They were useless to her since she didn’t have the code.

  “Are you lost, Ms. Newman?”

  Jenna jumped at the sound of Greyson’s voice. She whipped around, expecting to find him behind her.

  “Up here,” he called lazily.

  Jenna searched for the voice and finally found Greyson leaning out of a window on the second floor . . . without a shirt. Maybe without anything. She could only see from his waist up. Not that she was looking. It was just rather hard not to notice something like that.

  “The door is locked.” Jenna tried to keep her gaze on his eyes and not his well-defined chest and arms. “If you’d be kind enough to give me the code to the door, I’ll leave right away.”

  Greyson rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked down at her and her luggage. “I assumed you already knew the code. You seem to know everything else.”

  “Well, I don’t know the code. If you tell me, I’ll be out of your hair.”

  “No.”

  What? Did he just tell her no?

  She huffed and threw her shoulders back. Before she could reply, Greyson said, “I’m going back to sleep. I suggest we continue this conversation when the sun actually rises.” He shut the window and strolled out of view.

  Jenna stood in the driveway, fuming. How dare he trap her here! He didn’t want her around, so why would he purposely keep her here unless he was taunting her. Was this his way of getting even? The great Mr. Greyson Miller! Bah! He was no better than any other man with millions at his disposal. Experience, not money, made a man. He was not the man she had originally assumed he was.

  There was that word again: assumed.

  An ashy taste filled her mouth. Yes, she had assumed, and she was very, very wrong. She now saw him for what he truly was.

  Jenna gritted her teeth and stormed into the mansion.

  * * *

  Greyson was just getting comfortable in bed when his door burst open.

  Ah. Jenna.

  When he had shut the window on Jenna, he’d tried his hardest not to laugh at the way her mouth opened, ready to scold and yet too tongue-tied to get the words out. Not that he had given her much time to give him a lashing. It was too damn early.

  He wasn’t surprised she invaded his room, but he had hoped to get another hour of sleep. Last night, sleep hadn’t come easily. A prickle of guilt jolted him awake every time he was in sleep’s grasp.

  The truth was, Greyson did feel guilty. He knew he could’ve taken the high road and settled the matter the moment she had dismissed him as the gardener. But he hadn’t.

  Greyson had no intention of letting her quit because of their heated conversation. If she wanted to quit, it’d be for a different reason. So, in the middle of the night, he had locked the garage, knowing she’d try to sneak off early.

  “How dare you trap me here!” Jenna squawked, stomping over to his bed.

  Greyson yawned and blinked up at her. “You’re not going to let me sleep, are you?”

  Jenna stalled a few feet from his bed, looking extremely uncomfortable but too angry to leave. “Give me the code and you can sleep all you want.”

  “I requested one thing from you, and I’m still waiting. Until I receive it, I have no intention of doing anything except sleep for another hour.”

  Jenna’s mouth swung open, and Greyson had an urge to reach over and close it. Instead, he scrunched his pillow until it was a cozy nest for his head. If he had to argue with Jenna at this ungodly hour, at least he could be comfortable.

  It was odd, he thought. When he was a CEO, he had worked around the clock without complaint. Early mornings and late evenings were a daily requirement. A force propelled him forward at a fast and deadly pace. Now, he wanted to relax, sleep, and muck around in his garden.

  And torment Jenna.

  He’d never had a hobby before, gardening aside. Hobbies were supposed to be fun, challenging, and something to look forward to. Jenna wasn’t always fun. But she was challenging, and, if he admitted to it, he looked forward to their arguments. In fact, she was yelling at him right now, and he was content to let her. But did she have to be so loud about it?

  He silently groaned. He’d have to be insane to want to keep her around just to argue. He must miss negotiations. It was the only explanation. That, and he was never levelheaded when under the bedcovers.

  If only there was a warm, soft body next to him.

  “Mr. Miller?” Jenna asked tersely.

  Greyson glanced over at the sound of his name. The vision that he was happily enjoying withered. “Ms. Newman, I requested a letter of resignation, and I have yet to receive it. Until I do, consider this ‘conversation’ over.” With that, he turned his back and arranged the pillow again.

  Jenna let out a strangled huff and stomped out of the room, slamming the door on her way out.

  Greyson smiled.

  Chapter 7

  The arrogant, pigheaded lout! If he wanted a letter of resignation, she’d give him one!

  Jenna stormed into the study and plucked the laptop off the desk where she had returned it. She carried it to the kitchen table, depositing it with a clunk. She plopped down in the chair
and wrenched the laptop open, glaring at it while it started.

  Finally, she was able to compose a new email and addressed it to Greyson.

  Mr. Miller,

  I quit.

  Jenna Newman

  Greyson sent a reply almost immediately.

  I expect a better letter.

  Better? Jenna stewed. A hundred uncomplimentary names to call him sprung forth.

  Mr. Miller,

  I quit because you are a jackass. Please give me the garage code before I call the cops.

  Jenna Newman

  Greyson sent his reply ten minutes later, letting her bristle and fume. He did it on purpose, she knew. Negotiations were his specialty, and Jenna was in the middle of a negotiation whether she wanted to be or not.

  Jenna,

  When I hired you, I expected so much more than name calling and threats.

  Try again.

  Greyson

  Jenna pushed back from the table before she gave into the urge to chuck the laptop out of the kitchen window. Damn him!

  Was keeping her here a game to him?

  Even if she did follow through with her threat of calling the police, she knew he had the power to change the game to his favor. He didn’t come about his wealth without using his power once in a while.

  Jenna took a deep breath. Fine. If he wanted a flowery resignation letter, then that’s what he’d get. If it meant leaving this house, she’d do nearly anything. Scratch that. She liked the house. Loved it. It was the owner she wanted to escape from.