“Poppy, just call me back so we can clear this up. Please.” I stabbed the end button harder than I needed to and I didn’t feel any sense of relief dammit. A week had passed, no not a week, nine days had passed since Poppy stopped by to see Christianne spread eagle on my desk, asking me to touch her pussy.

I declined, of course, but it came too late to do me any damn good. Poppy had already fled my office. My building. And judging by her radio silence, my life. No matter how many times I called or how many messages I sent, she didn’t respond. The lack of dots on the screen said she never even contemplated sending a message back. So, I was forced into something I never thought I would do. Stalk a woman.

Technically, her grandmother.

“I had a feeling you’d come to me, eventually, because men are stubborn.”

“Good afternoon, Maple.”

“Oh don’t try that charming little smile thing on me, boy. Just come in.” The sweet smile she wore took the sting off her words. “I’ve got tea and sandwiches, join me.”

The table was filled with more than just tea and sandwiches. There was enough food for a small barbecue. “Are you expecting company, Maple?”

“I told you I was expecting you, Blake. Keep up. Sit down and dig in.” I knew when I was beat and when to listen to my stomach, so I took a seat while she grabbed a second glass and filled it with tea.

“This tea is spiked!”

She laughed and shook her head. “Of course it is, why else would anyone ever drink the stuff?” She winked and took her seat, not shy about piling food onto her plate. “Why do you care, Blake?”

I guess we’re getting right into then. “I miss her.” It shocked the hell out of me too, but it took less than two days for me to admit it to myself. I told myself to forget her, but I couldn’t. And that’s when I knew.

“You made your choice when you stayed there with that woman in your office instead of going after my granddaughter.”

Damn, tough crowd. I let out a low, painful groan and speared my fingers through my hair. “You don’t pull your punches, Maple.”

“Not when it comes to Poppy.”

“It was just a big misunderstanding, and she won’t even give me a chance to explain.” But I was about to explain it to her, as distasteful as it was. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but Victoria Sanchez tried to auction off her daughter for her twenty percent in the company. I refused but they’ve both been very insistent.” A fucking understatement.

“Victoria? I knew her when I was child, she was always concerned with appearances. But if you refused her daughter, how did you get her to sell to you?”

“To be honest, she hates Poppy that much. Like you said, she’s obsessed with appearances and Poppy certainly doesn’t scream traditional.” Despite every strike against her, she ran OAA like she was an Ivy League MBA. “She was just hoping to get Christianne off her hands, and I suspect the reason she cut her off was because she somehow knew about me and Poppy.” I told her about Christianne showing up in nothing but lingerie under her trench coat and sprawling across my desk. “That’s what she walked in on, absolutely nothing.” And she wouldn’t even give me five damn minutes of her time.

Maple stared at me, chugging her tea. She was a champ because I already felt tipsy and the glass was still half full. “You’re upset that she hasn’t let you explain.”

It wasn’t a question, somehow she just knew. “I deserve that much.”

“You do? Why? When, according to both of you, there is no relationship.” She tossed it out there, knowing I’d have to defend myself and silencing me with a glare. “And the fact she is sharing her body with you doesn’t mean-,”

“Oh, Maple, please. We don’t need to.” Her glare shut me up again.

“Sharing her body doesn’t equal trust, at least not that kind of trust. And why should she, when you are actively trying to steal her company right from under her? It seems to me that she has every reason not to trust you.”

Well when it was put like that, it sounded reasonable. “Still, we’ve been seeing each other for months.”

“Did you tell her about this woman who wants to be your wife?”

“No, because it was irrelevant.”

“Doesn’t’ seem that way now, does it?”

“No, Maple, it doesn’t. Got any more of that tea?”

She smiled and stood to get the pitcher, setting it on the table between us. “Does Poppy know that you’re in love with her?”

“What?” I shook my head, filling my glass to the top. “I’m not…we’re not. It wasn’t like that, Maple. Did Poppy say differently?”

“I’m only telling you this because I like you, and because I think you and Poppy have been good for each other. I suspect your invitation to the party may get lost in the mail.” She leaned forward, blunt cut red nails reaching for a brown envelope shaped like a flower. When it was in her hands, Maple handed it to me. “Don’t make me regret this, Blake.”

I pulled it open, seeing the garish yellow, orange, brown and blue colors of the invitation. It was retro, but in the gaudiest way imaginable. “The Limited Edition line?”

Maple smiled, nodding proudly. “That girl has a mind I can’t understand, but it produces magic. As a shareholder, I assume you’ll show up to help us celebrate?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Maple. Be sure to save me a dance.”

Maple shook her head, silver waves tumbling around her shoulder. “If you’re worrying about dancing with this old woman, your night isn’t going the way it should.”

There was something about these Masters women. They kept me on my toes.