CHAPTER NINE
Journey
“He’s here!”
Jasmine jumped up from her place on the lobby sofa and headed toward the front door, her short legs nearly a blur as she raced toward the man in the silver suit.
My breath released as I took him in.
The way he smiled and opened his arms to Jasmine. The first time Jaz hugged him after her burger Tuesday night with such enthusiasm, he’d looked stiff and ensure of what to do. In only three days, he was hugging her back, and I could hear his rumble of deep laughter from where I sat, and the sound vibrated low in my belly.
It made me smile.
He looked like a man who needed more laughter in his life.
Of course, what did I know. I’d officially spent less than two hours total in his company, and although his Wiki page claimed that he was single, surely a man like him had a woman in his bed every night.
I wanted to be one of them.
Although I should have been startled at the thought, I was growing used to the dirty thoughts revolving around in my brain over the past week. Dirty thoughts that included both Grant and Nash. They revolved in my dreams, both visiting me at night and during the day when my thoughts wandered from a task.
“We’re going to move that bus, Journey,” Jazzy yelled. “Hurry. Hurry.”
I laughed at my sister’s enthusiasm and stood up, pulling my bag up over my shoulder. The movement was as natural as breathing. I couldn’t even remember the last time I carried a purse. I had a nice leather hobo bag Mee-maw gave me several years ago, but I rarely used it, preferring a backpack or messenger bag to hold all my stuff.
Now, I wished I had something a little classier. Because even with all my fantasies, I knew Grant Sommerfield was out of my league. I looked more like the courier who carried his mail than anyone he would take to dinner at one of the luxurious restaurants he probably frequented.
Yet… when his eyes turned to me, the dark depths of them seemed to grow even darker.
“Good evening, Journey.”
So formal. So polite. Maybe I misread him after all.
But when I placed my hand in his, goose bumps raised on my skin. My favorite peasant blouse, the one of a million colors, fell off my shoulder as he clamped my hand between his heavy ones. His eyes fell to the bare expanse of flesh, and I could almost feel the heat of his gaze licking at my skin.
“Good evening, Grant.”
Jasmine came up beside us. “Grant said that we’re going to ride in his car. Isn’t that cool?”
My eyes shot up to his. “But our bikes…?”
“I’ll have them delivered.” He glanced over at his driver. “Wayne will help load your things.”
With great reluctance, I pulled my hand away and began to pick up a bag. The driver rushed forward. “Allow me, miss.” He gave me a broad smile and a wink. I couldn’t help but smile back.
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure, miss.”
Jasmine picked up her special bag, the one with all of her treasures — including her makeup. “I’ll carry this one because it’s very precious.”
The driver’s smile grew broader. “Well then, it’s very smart of you to hold on to it yourself.”
Jaz shot me a look, her eyes wide. “He said I’m smart.”
I reached out to smooth a hand over her hair. “You are smart.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t Star Spangled Banner me.”
Both Grant and the driver looked exceedingly confused. “She means, don’t patronize me,” I explained. “Several years ago, Jazzy got patronize and patriotic mixed up, and it’s been a joke between us ever since.”
Jazzy beamed. “Knock. Knock.”
“Oh no… we’ve started something.”
Grant took the bait. “Who’s there?”
I bit my lip. Please be a clean joke. Please be a clean joke.
“Europe.”
I groaned and lifted a hand. “Jaz—”
Grant bulldozed over me. “Europe who?”
“Jaz!”
But Jazzy ignored me. “No. You’re a poo.”
Both men laughed, and after a second, I joined in. Jazzy slapped her thigh. “I’ve got a million of them. Knock—”
Divert. Divert.
“Aren’t you ready to move that bus?”
She whirled toward me. “Yes. Let’s move that bus.”
Hitching her special bag farther up on her shoulder, she marched toward the door, the driver right behind her. There was only one bag left, and I grabbed it, but Grant covered my hand.
“Allow me.”
Could he feel that?
The heat and electricity that flowed off of him and into me?
As if he was reading my mind, he said. “I feel it too.”
It must have been the bemused expression on my face because, surely, he wasn’t able to tap into my brain. My churning gut. Lower.
Pulling my hand away, I took a step back.
“Hurry!” Jasmine shouted from the door. “You’ve got to see this car!”
Jazzy to the rescue.
Turning to follow, I felt Grant behind me. From the corner of my eye, I saw him hand over the bag to his driver. Saw them speak in low voices, but my main attention was on Jasmine and the car in front of me.
“It’s a Mercedes Maybach, Wayne told me,” she said.
“Wayne?”
She rolled her eyes. “The driver. He gets to drive this car all day long. Look… there are seats that ride backwards. Have you ever seen seats that ride backwards? Isn’t that weird?”
Sure enough, there were two seats facing the back, and as I sank into the butter soft leather of the one facing forward, there were many inches between my knees and Jaz’s. The door on the opposite side opened, and Grant slid in, smiling at us both.
“I love your car. It’s so soft and pretty.”
Grant’s eyes flashed to me then to Jaz. “Thank you. When you get back from camp, we’ll get together and take a long ride in it, if you want.”
I blinked. The future. I might get to see him in the future.
“That would be great,” Jazzy said.
The discussion that followed was one that I barely paid attention to. Jasmine was curious about all the buttons and what they did.
The reclining seats. The blinds that moved across the windows. Grant pushed some button and the empty seat in front of him lifted up, revealing a small television screen underneath.
“Wow. This is so cool. I saw a movie with a jet plane on it. This is even better than the plane.”
“Have you ever flown?” Grant asked her.
With wide eyes, she shook her head. “Is it fun?”
Grant nodded. “Maybe I can take you for a ride on my plane one day too.”
As they spoke, I sank farther back into my seat. I’d known Grant was rich. That much was obvious. But he was rich-rich. No, rich-rich-rich. What would he want with a little nobody like me?
A warm hand covered my arm, and I looked down. Grant’s hand was so big, it covered my forearm from wrist to elbow.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and I realized I’d allowed myself to sink down into a depressing rabbit hole.
I shot him a bright smile. “I’m terrific. Sorry, just got lost in thought for a moment.”
He frowned. “Something bad?”
I strained for some excuse, anything but admit how I’d been feeling just a moment before. Miss Johnson came immediately to mind, and I used her poor living conditions to divert his attention. “I’m just worried about one of my elderly patients. She has trouble leaving her building because the stairs are so heavily damaged outside. She has to call emergency services if she even needs to do something so simple as go to her doctor appointments. And her landlord is terrible. Her air conditioning unit went out earlier this week and he wouldn’t replace it. I was able to get one donated, but now I’m worried about mold and—”
His frown deepened. “Where does she live?”
A HIPPA alert tripped through my mind. “I can’t say because of patient confidentiality.”
“Can you say if it’s a private home or an apartment building?”
That would be okay. “A building.”
“Can you give the building address without breaking confidentiality laws?”
I considered the question, but… “Why?”
He met my gaze full on. “One of my personal hobbies is to find homes and buildings that need… help. I enjoy giving them some attention and bringing them back to their former glory.”
Did he do that with people too?
“It’s like flipping?” Both our gazes shifted to Jasmine, who was kicked back in her reclining seat. “I like watching those shows.”
“Exactly.”
I turned back to him. “Have you always enjoyed restoration?”
A dark cloud settled over his features. “My parents did.”
Did?
“And you helped them out?”
The cloud darkened further, and I felt the sadness and other emotions coming off him in waves. He lifted a hand and touched the scar on the side of his mouth. “Yes.”
I wanted to know more. I wanted to ask additional questions, but the car was pulling to a halt. “We’re here!” Jasmine cried, fumbling with her seatbelt.
Placing a hand on Grant’s, I waited until his full attention was on me, which only took a millisecond. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For stirring whatever memories I stirred with my question.”
I expected him to deny it, but he didn’t. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
My fingers itched to reach up and touch his scar too. The sadness was connected to it, I felt certain.
But the door opened behind me, and Jasmine leaped out. “Come on. It’s time.”
“Yes. It is time,” Grant repeated.
I let go of his hand and reached for the button for my seatbelt. “Yes. Time.”
The outside of the building was exactly the same. I didn’t know what I was expecting… maybe the bus Jasmine had wanted.
Grant lifted a phone to his ear. “We’re here.” He paused a moment, then added, “Good.”
He pocketed the phone and we all walked up the front steps, Jasmine taking the lead. The Mercedes’s engine roared to life, and I looked back as it pulled away from the curb.
Grant smiled. “Wayne is running an errand for me.”
I nodded. “He seems very nice.”
“He is. He’s been a loyal friend for a number of years.”
There was more to that story, but I didn’t ask because we were inside the building and moving past Charlie and Charles Sr.’s apartment. As if he had been watching for us, the door opened and Charlie appeared, his eyes looking dead as he watched me pass.
As if sensing my discomfort, Grant’s hand went immediately to my back, steering me toward the inside stairwell. Once we were on the steps, he moved behind me, as if creating a human shield between me and the other man. Even though I could protect myself, I appreciated the gesture. Appreciated how nice it was to not have to always fend for myself.
“The elevator should be fixed by the middle of the week,” he said as we reached the third floor. “We’re waiting on parts.”
I looked back at him. “Really? That elevator hasn’t worked in forever.”
“Well, it’s going to work now.”
“A bus!”
Rounding the corner, I laughed when I could see what Jasmine was seeing. It wasn’t a real bus, of course, but a large cardboard cutout of one completely covering the door.
Tears immediately hit the backs of my eyes at Grant’s thoughtfulness, the desire to please my sister. “Thank you for doing that,” I told him, swiping at the outer corner of my left eye. “She’ll be talking about this moment forever.”
“I’m glad it’s made her happy.” His hand came to my lower back again. “Glad it’s made you happy.”
I smiled and turned to face him, regretting the move when it forced his hand to fall away. “I don’t know what’s on the other side of that door, but I love it. No matter what it is, I love it. And I appreciate it. I know you’ve gone way outside of what your responsibilities are for Jaz and me. I’m grateful.”
His eyes softened even more. “I know. And I’m glad to do it. More than you can know.”
“Move that bus.”
The spell between us was broken by my excited sister. Grant stepped away and moved to the tail end of the “bus.”
“Ready?”
He was looking at me even as Jasmine jumped and clapped, her pure happiness ringing out in her laughter.
I exhaled. “Ready.”
Jaz “vroomed, vroomed” as he pushed the bus to the side and revealed the door. It shone with a fresh coat of paint, making me even more curious as to what was behind it. With a flourish that would rival Vanna White any day, he pushed it open.
Jasmine was the first inside, and she squealed in delight. Rushing in behind her, I gasped.
This couldn’t be the same apartment.
The walls were a soft dove gray, all the trim repainted a brilliant white, giving the entire space an elegance and clean energy it was lacking before.
The old sofa was gone, of course, replaced by one in a darker gray. A rainbow of colorful pillows were artfully tossed across it. A chaise lounge chair in a matching color faced it, filling up the space where a bookcase once sat.
The most unexpected change was in the sleeping area. Where before there were two standard twin beds sitting just feet apart in the small alcove, now, there were two sleeping spaces.
“A loft,” I breathed. “You built a loft.”
Grant smiled big enough that his chipped tooth winked at me. “Dina did, actually.”
I shot him a curious look. “Dina?”
“The interior designer who works for me. She felt, and I agreed, that two women deserved their own sleeping space. With the ten-foot ceiling, Dina decided to go vertical.” He walked over to where Jasmine was already flopping on her new bed. “You won’t be able to stand up fully, but Dina assures me that it won’t matter.”
Jasmine rolled off her bed and stood up, the new ceiling of her space narrowly missing the top of her head. “I can stand up straight.”
At four feet ten inches tall, Jasmine fit perfectly in her space. She bounced on the full-size bed with its brilliant turquoise duvet and plethora of pillows. She tapped on a switch and was delighted when a soft light came on over her. Below the mattress was what appeared to be enough drawers to hold all her clothes — so very clever.
“Would you like to see your space?”
Grant had moved until he stood next to a set of winding stairs that curved up to the loft. Very slowly, I moved past him and up the narrow staircase. At the top, pleasure expressed itself with a gasp. I too had a full-size mattress sitting over several drawers. I too had a reading light as well as a shelf for my many school books. Instead of turquoise, my duvet was of a color I could only think to call paprika. Moving higher, I bent my head until I was on the bed. Then, I had more room than I could ever imagine.
The mattress sank with my weight, the cotton of the duvet almost like silk beneath my fingers.
Grant’s head popped up. “Will this work for you?”
I laughed and swiped at the corner of my eye again. “It’s more than I ever imagined. It’s beautiful and private and…” I pulled a colorful pillow from the rest and held it to my chest. “It’s simply wonderful.”
He seemed relieved. “Dina couldn’t be here for the reveal, but she wanted me to make sure you saw something.”
Reluctant to leave my bed, I made my way back to the steps and climbed down. I turned toward a squeal and saw that Jaz had found an easel and art space that had been set up on the other side of the beds.
My hands went to my mouth, and I was moved beyond words. He’d thought of everything. Simply everything.
But there was more in store for me because Grant’s hand was at my back again, steering me around until I faced the kitchen area of the apartment. There were new appliances, new cabinets including a tall one that I knew was a pantry. A tall bar-top table was wedged into the corner, replacing the old Formica one from before.
As my eyes swept over the space, that was when I saw it. On the wall between the eating table and the front door was a long picture hanging over a beautiful buffet looking cabinet that looked to contain loads of storage.
I stepped closer to the picture, my heart squeezing harder with every step. Inside the frame, a section of Mee-maw’s sofa was matted in the same soft gray as the walls.
“I hope this is enough to keep the memory alive,” Grant said, coming to stand beside me.
I couldn’t talk, and even if I could have, I knew no words would have been able to convey my deepest thoughts. The tears I’d been holding back for days broke through the dam of my willpower and streamed down my cheeks.
“The original sofa is in one of my storage buildings. If this doesn’t work, I can—”
He sounded worried, and I knew I needed to say something to assure him that I was thrilled. It was a wonderful idea, preserving the memory while also moving on. But the words couldn’t cross all the emotion taking up residence in my throat. So I did the only thing I could… I hugged him, practically throwing my arms around his waist.
After a few seconds, his arms came around me, and I was nestled to his powerful chest. I began to cry in earnest then, knowing as I did that I was ruining his expensive suit.
But it was so safe here.
The warm breath in my hair as he pressed his lips to my head. The large hands pressing me so very close.
“What’s wrong?”
The words were spoken so softly, so timid, I forced myself to pull it together. In a series of slow movements — I straightened, Grant’s arms fell away, I stepped back, he stepped back too — I was freed from his embrace, already missing the warmth and comfort.
Forcing myself to laugh, I wiped at my eyes, then took the handkerchief Grant handed me to take over the chore. “These are happy tears, Jaz.” I looked up at Grant. “Very happy. Thank you.”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You’re more than welcome.”
Satisfied that I was okay, Jasmine wandered off to open the new kitchen cabinets, listing every item she found. “New plates. New cups. New forks. New pots. New…”
The list went on and on as Grant and I gazed at each other. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Dina wanted me to point out that she used the sofa tapestry for the color inspiration of the apartment.”
Turning to look at it again, I could see that he was right. The background of the floral was the same gray as the walls. Turquoise and paprika dotted the canvas, as did the yellows and blues that I also spotted in the pillows.
“Please tell her it’s not just beautiful, but so very special, and that Jaz and I both adore it. I—”
A knock sounded on the door. Frowning, I looked back at Grant, who just grinned. Moving to the door, I opened it to find the driver standing there. Disappointed that he was going to tell Grant he was late for some appointment or other, the scent of food told me something else.
“Miss Walker.”
At his formal nod, I stepped back and let him inside. The smell wafting from the bags he was holding caused my stomach to growl. As usual, I’d only had a protein bar for lunch, and I was starving.
And whatever was in those bags smelled immensely better than the pizza I’d planned on ordering. Like a dog following the scent of a bone, I followed the man to our new table where he placed everything, nodded, and left. My “thank you” trailed off behind him.
“This smells good!”
Before I could stop her, Jasmine was digging through the bags, pulling out takeout cartons with the Ruth’s Chris logo emblazoned on the sides. My mouth fell open. I’d heard rave reviews for the steakhouse, of course, but knew it was priced far out of what I’d be willing to spend.
“I wasn’t sure what to order, but since I know you like steak and Jasmine likes burgers, I selected a few different cuts and a variety of sides and desserts.” Was he blushing just a bit? I thought so. “I might have gone a little overboard, but I wanted to make sure you two wouldn’t be hungry.”
As Jaz kept pulling out boxes, my eyes widened. “I think we’ll be well fed for at least a week.” Then I remembered, and my heart squeezed. “Well, since Jaz will be gone, I guess it will just be me.”
“You’ll miss her.”
It wasn’t a question. It was a fact.
Tears burned as I even tried to imagine not seeing that smiling face for a full twenty-one days. I nodded.
He cleared his throat. “Then, maybe I’ll drop by one day. Check in with you. See if you need more steak.”
Underneath this cold façade, this man was so very, very kind.
“I’ll be mooing soon if you keep this up.”
“Cake!” Jazzy exclaimed. “And pie. Wow!”
Grant took a step backward. “I better go. Give you some privacy.”
He was leaving.
“Eat with us!” Jaz yelled, opening up a box. “You just can’t have the cake or the pie. They’re mine.”
Grant laughed.
I laughed too. “Please, yes. Join us.”
And to my surprise and deep pleasure, Grant nodded and took a seat at the new table he bought us, in the new looking apartment I loved.