The Successor (The Holbrook Cousins Saga Book 1)

by Alina Jacobs

  “You will be coming?”

  “Of course. Trying not to work too hard. My philosophy has always been to trust the people you hire for a job. I’m forcing myself to put it into practice again. Micromanaging my company isn’t good for my employees or my bottom line.”

  “That’s very wise of you,” Linda said.

  “It’s nice to see him getting back into society, isn’t it?” Nancy said.

  “Well, now he has a reason. How have you been getting on with Grant?” Linda asked.

  “It’s a big change,” Walter said, knocking back the rest of his drink.

  “And here is the man of the hour!” Nancy said, waving Grant over.

  “You seem like you’re finding your feet,” Nathaniel said as Grant came up behind Kate.

  Grant put an arm around her and gave her a hug then let his hand slide slowly down her back afterward. Kate shivered.

  “Yes,” Grant said. “Kate’s been a big help in the transition.”

  “I need her back at some point,” his father said.

  “Is it difficult being an assistant, Kate?” Linda asked. “Now that Brandy’s not doing the dog grooming, not that she ever really was, I was thinking she would make a good executive assistant.”

  “It’s a lot of work,” Kate said. “You also need to find the right fit with your boss since you will be spending so much time with him or her.”

  “That’s something to think about,” Linda agreed.

  Brandy better not be trying to land a job with the Holbrooks, Kate thought. She knew she couldn’t end up with Grant, but she would burn New Cardiff to the ground before she let Brandy nab him.

  Chapter 32

  Grant

  Kate did not look happy when the Fitzhughs suggested that Brandy become an assistant. Grant hoped she was jealous. He wanted her to want him. He didn’t understand why she was fighting it. His mother’s lackey, Luigi, had said his father was a bully. He hoped it wasn’t true. If it was, he needed to be as valuable at the company as his father was. Then he couldn’t push him out.

  I’m going to own this town, he thought, and win Kate.

  He sipped his pre-dinner drink, and Margaret wrapped an arm around Grant and led him over to be introduced to the couple that he didn’t know. Grant stiffened and resisted.

  “Don’t act so surprised,” Margaret said. “I’ve accepted that you will be in my life for the foreseeable future. I’m too old to hold grudges. Not that you aren’t still under probation with me. If you end up marrying my granddaughter, then you need to be respectable.”

  Grant smiled. He had one person in his corner. Sort of.

  “Don’t act so smug,” Margaret said, hitting him lightly. “Ow! I just about broke my wrist!”

  The elderly couple looked up at them.

  “These are the Burbanks,” Margaret told Grant.

  He shook their hands.

  “The military, eh?” said one man. “I wish my son had chosen to do something useful with his life.”

  “I’m sure he’s fine,” Grant said.

  “How is your son?” Margaret asked. “I remember when he and his sisters were little children!”

  “We’re having him enlist in the Marine Corps, but he doesn’t start for a few months. I told him we would cut him off if he didn’t. He just couldn’t settle down and do something, anything. He would rather just flit around. He’s a bit younger than you, Grant. He’s never seemed to fit in. We adopted him, you see.”

  “That can be difficult for a person,” Grant said, thinking of his own experience.

  “I don’t see how. We did everything for him. He should be grateful!” Mrs. Burbank said loudly.

  Grant was starting to become annoyed with the couple. It was giving him flashbacks of dealing with his own adoptive parents. He knocked back his drink and tried to resist the urge to throw the glass at the woman’s head.

  “When he comes back into town, maybe I can convince you to set him straight,” Mr. Burbank continued.

  “I was only an enlisted marine,” Grant said.

  “That’s better than nothing. At least you were making a contribution to society.”

  “Your son and Grant’s cousin Carter were two peas in a pod. Always in trouble,” Margaret said, trying to steer the conversation in another direction. Grant wondered if it was that obvious he was angry.

  “All our kids are friends,” Nancy said, coming up with a plate of snacks in her hand. She was wearing a breezy top and loose-fitting silk pants. She seemed like the type of mom you would want if you were adopted, Grant thought.

  “Whenever my sons return, we need to have a proper get-together with people your own age,” she said, wrapping an arm around Grant. “Maybe if Jack and the boys go hunting, you can go along too. Jack’s a pretty good shot. They usually spend a few weeks with all of us on Martha’s Vineyard. Your father used to bring the kids.” She looked sad for a moment then brightened. “He can bring you now.”

  Dinner was individual lobster potpies with endive salad.

  “You made this?” Grant asked Nancy, impressed. “It’s delicious.” His adoptive mother never cooked. A good dinner in his childhood was something out of a box.

  “I told you she was a great chef,” Kate said, digging into her potpie.

  “Oh, it’s nothing!” Nancy replied, pouring wine for the Burbanks.

  After dinner, they retired to the parlor. Nancy had a fire going. Against one wall, there was a table with cheese, fruit, and various wines.

  “Everyone help yourselves,” she announced.

  Grant wandered over to the table. It was an impressive cheeseboard.

  “You should show him the garden, Kate. I brought back some new sculptures from Italy. I bet he hasn’t seen anything like it,” Nancy said.

  “I’d love to see it,” Grant said. “I’m sure Kate can give me the whole tour.”

  “Of course she can!” Nancy exclaimed. “She’s spent hours listening to me prattle on about it. She helped me plan for it. She’s the daughter I always wanted. My boys are great, but you need a girl to cook with and decorate and throw parties.”

  Grant winced. He felt bad for Carter, if this was what he had to deal with for years.

  “Go on! This is why one puts so much work into a garden, to let other people enjoy it!” Nancy said and shooed them out through the French doors leading to the sumptuous landscape.

  As they walked through the garden, Kate pointed out the various plants and how the garden had been designed in a formal Baroque style.

  She led him down one narrow path, stating, “Nancy had been looking for the perfect statue to go in front of this fountain. It looks like she found it.” The statue was of a young woman, the marble expertly carved to make it look as if she was covered in a veil. The figure reached up, the marble hand almost touching the tree branch that had started to bud.

  “It’s beautiful,” Grant said, his hands clasped behind his back. They contemplated the statue. Kate had her arms wrapped around herself, and Grant took off his jacket and put it around her.

  “I’m fine, really,” she said.

  “You look cold.”

  “I don’t need you to take care of me.”

  He rotated her toward him and held her lightly in in his arms.

  “Don’t,” she said to him.

  He ignored her and leaned down and kissed her softly.

  “I’m not doing this anymore,” she whispered against his mouth.

  But she leaned into him, and he bent down to kiss her once more and ran his hands up and down her back, his tongue tracing her sweet mouth.

  “I just want to be with you,” he whispered. “Don’t you want this?”

  “No,” she said. Grant knew she was lying, but he didn’t know why. Maybe he was moving too fast.

  Stepping back, he asked, “Ready to go inside?”

  She nodded.

  When they walked into the parlor, the Burbanks and Fitzhughs had left. Nancy and Jack sat on the couch with W
alter, Kate’s grandmother hovering over him. His father was slumped over, his head in his hands.

  “I can’t believe they’re gone. It still hurts. I’ll never be able to get over it.”

  “I’m sure Grant can help with that,” Nancy said, wiping the tears out of her eyes. “We are all still heartbroken. Carter is still so broken up about it. I’m worried about him, really.”

  Jack grunted. “He needs to get over it. He’s only using it as an excuse to screw up.”

  “Death is hard for people,” Grant told him seriously. “It’s not something you just get over.”

  Jack looked as if he was about to say something but then thought better of it.

  Grant knelt down in front of his father. “It’s hard to lose someone you care about,” he said. “I know.”

  Walter looked at him sadly. “Yes, I suppose you do.” He squeezed Grant’s shoulder then got up. “I think we’ve exhausted your hospitality, Nancy and Jack.”

  “We’re family! There’s nothing to exhaust,” Nancy told him.

  “Thank you for having us. It’s… it’s been good to reconnect with people.”

  “Always a pleasure to see you all. Remember, I have a few weeks planned in the summer on Martha’s Vineyard. I expect you all to be there,” she told them as she walked them to the door.

  “Of course,” Walter replied. His father seemed tired and ancient as Grant steered him to the waiting car.

  Once they were back at the estate, Stefan helped Grant put him to bed.

  “I think he drank too much,” he told the butler. Grant felt good about where his relationship with his father was heading. Too bad the one he had with Kate seemed to have taken a nosedive.

  Chapter 33

  Kate

  A few days later, Kate and her grandmother drove up to the Holbrook estate. Grant waited in the foyer for them. Margaret wanted to take him to the clubhouse.

  “The food is terrible,” she said as Grant helped her into the car, “with some of the worst service you can imagine.”

  Kate tried to ignore her grandmother as she chattered on. In the time they’d spent together, Margaret and Grant had turned into coconspirators on the state of things in New Cardiff Township.

  “No!” Grant said in mock shock to whatever Kate’s grandmother was complaining about. “Worse than the people at the Hilton?”

  “Absolutely,” she said. “But it’s where people go, and you have to meet the Van der Ryes. They only lunch at the club. She meets him there after a round of golf. He’s a terrible player, but he’s so old that he can barely stand up straight, so I suppose you have to give him props for that.”

  Kate tried to stifle a smile as she watched them. Grant looked at her softly. She quickly wiped the smile off her face, and he looked taken aback.

  She looked at the trees in bloom on the way to the clubhouse. She didn’t really like going there, but for all her grandmother complained, she frequently took a meal, sometimes two with drinks in between, at the club with her friends. The day was beautiful, and the medians were awash in colorful flowers, but Kate wished it were cold and raining to match how she felt on the inside.

  The clubhouse was on a hundred-acre property with golfing, horseback riding, swimming, and tennis. The neoclassical building rose on a small hill as the driver brought the car around. Golf carts zipped on the paths next to them, and women in cute tennis outfits walked up to the clubhouse for lunch.

  “This is a really nice property,” Grant said as he helped her grandmother out of the car.

  “Yes, it is lovely,” Margaret said. “This building is on the National Registry. This is one of the oldest social clubs in the country. They make you dress for dinner, but lunch is more casual. There’s a main dining room and a bar. I hope we are seated at a good table.”

  They went inside the immaculate front hall and headed toward the dining room, which had huge windows overlooking the golf course. Grant didn’t want to sit in the middle of the room, and Kate’s grandmother’s normal table was too close to the window for Grant, so they had to sit in the corner. Kate cringed, expecting her grandmother to fuss and complain. But she just patted Grant on the forearm and smiled. Unbelievable.

  “I’m glad to see you’ve finally decided that you like him,” Kate remarked.

  Her grandmother looked offended.

  “I’ve always liked Grant. How dare you!”

  Kate pursed her lips in annoyance.

  “In fact, I think you two should maybe try dating. I’d like a nice, handsome, strong grandson in the family.”

  Grant gave Kate a sultry look. The waiter came over and started listing off the specials, which saved Kate from a response.

  “We have an omelet with heritage cream cheese and wild-caught salmon with fresh dill from the garden, topped with Belgian caviar—”

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  Kate screamed as three masked men shot their way into the room, automatic rifles in their hands. One man pumped several shots into the elaborate ceiling. The lights sparked, and plaster and crystals rained down on the diners. Kate’s ears rang, and she heard muted screaming as she tried to pull her grandmother under the table. As she watched in horror, one of the attackers jumped up on a table, waving the gun around and yelling over the din.

  “You are all now hostages. The guards are dead. Everyone remain in your seats. We will be coming around to tie you up. Stay calm and cooperate, and we won’t—”

  Pop! Pop! Pop!

  The man wavered comically and collapsed, followed closely by his accomplices. Kate cautiously stood up. She couldn’t hear a thing; her ears felt blocked, and she could only hear a dull throb. She looked at Grant. He was standing a few steps away from their table and had a large pistol in his hand. He seemed eerily calm and detached, his gun in a loose but controlled grasp.

  She watched his eyes dart around, then he slowly lowered the gun and began to move assuredly around the room asking, “Anyone hurt? Does anyone need medical attention?”

  Kate could hear the sirens faintly over the throbbing in her ears. She mouthed to her grandmother, “Are you okay?”

  The older woman looked as if she had had a shock, but she nodded then stood up and went to nearby tables to reassure people. The club members were already on their phones to 911. Kate staggered over to Grant, who was standing over the would-be hostage takers. One of the bodies jerked, and she jumped with a little scream. Grant fired another bullet into the assailant’s head.

  “Don’t worry. They’re dead,” Grant mouthed to her.

  He holstered his gun as the doors crashed open, the SWAT team bursting in. Kate automatically put her hands in the air. The officers swept through the room. Several came over to Grant, where he was standing next to the assailants bleeding on the floor. Kate worked her jaw, trying to force her hearing to come back as the officers began to question Grant.

  “We’re fine!” her grandmother shouted as she came over, waving her arms. “He shot them. He’s a marine! He saved us all.”

  She tried to lead the crowd in a round of applause. Everyone was too stunned to join in.

  “Please, Gram,” Kate said. The muffled throbbing in her ears was now a ringing. It was disorienting, but she felt as if she could hear again, at least.

  “Did you shoot them?” the officer asked, looking at Grant, impressed.

  Grant nodded.

  “From where?”

  “We were sitting over there in the corner!” Margaret said.

  “Gram, stop it!” Kate hissed, trying to pull the woman away. “Go sit down.”

  “You made that shot?” The officer whistled.

  “Yes,” Grant said.

  “That’s impressive.”

  “It’s lots of practice,” Grant said.

  He didn’t seem all that affected by what just happened, Kate thought.

  “I was in Iraq in ’08.”

  “Bad time then,” Grant said.

  The man nodded then held out his hand.

  Gr
ant shook it.

  “Thank you for your service.”

  “Thank you,” Grant replied.

  The detectives came in with the EMT, and a bomb squad was called to sweep the clubhouse. Kate helped several of the elderly members out to the lush lawn then went over to stand near Grant. She wasn’t sure exactly what she was supposed to do. She had never been in a situation like this before.

  Grant had to give a play-by-play of the event over and over whenever a new department showed up.

  “And here come the vultures,” the FBI investigator said as news vans pulled into the parking lot. “Do me a favor and don’t talk to them,” she said to Kate and Grant, tucking her notebook under her arm.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Grant replied.

  “If we wanted everyone to love you again, this probably does the trick,” Kate said and started laughing hysterically. Everything could have turned out horribly wrong—Grant could have been killed. Her grandmother could have been killed. “Unless…” She gasped. “Unless they blame you for tearing up the building.”

  Grant looked at her, concerned. “Are you all right?” he asked as he pulled her close to him.

  She relaxed as he held her tightly to his chest, trying not to cry but failing. Grant wiped away her tears with his thumb.

  “It’s okay,” he told her. “You’re safe. I wasn’t going to let anyone hurt you.”

  Chapter 34

  Grant

  Grant had stayed with Kate at the clubhouse for several hours after the incident, keeping her by his side the entire time. She still seemed a bit in shock when he had the driver take them all home after they had finally spoken with the last law enforcement official.

  He couldn’t sleep that night. He was too hyped on adrenaline, so he ran laps around the estate instead. Grant made sure he had his gun on him before he stepped out into the dark. If Luigi, his mother’s friend, jumped out at him, he was probably going to shoot him and bury his body in the woods somewhere.

  After a run and a brutal weight-lifting session, Grant sat on the terrace of his balcony and watched a car pull up and his father step out.

  “Grant!” he called.

  Grant climbed over the edge of the balcony, stepped onto a narrow stone ledge on the side of the building, then jumped down, landing in a crouch on the ground.