Isabella
“So, this is la-dee-da, Connecticut.”
“Most people refer to it as Greenwich.” Grayson laughs but it doesn’t reach his eyes and I don’t get it. I’ve been trying to cheer him up since we left Manhattan.
Slate notices too and shrugs, standing by the limo door. As I get out, I open my arms to give him a hug and he shoots his boss a quick glance.
“Chicken.” That’s said loud enough for Gray to hear.
So, Slate feigns to shudder and hugs me stiffly. “Damn right. He pays the bills.”
“Not nearly enough, old man. Just glad I didn’t lose you in Brooklyn.” Grayson slaps him on the back.
Slate raises his brows. “Old?”
“Reflexes are the first to go…”
“Fuck you, boss. Ping me when you need me. I’m out of here.”
I grab Slate by the shoulder as he starts to sit back down in the driver’s seat. “Wait. You’re not coming in with us?”
“Hell, no. Good luck.” He exits the long driveway and burns rubber.
Shaking his head, Gray leads me up the long walk to the front of what could only be described as an estate. There’s a pool to the left, tennis and basketball courts to the right. The garage, an old carriage house, is attached at a right angle to the main building.
I didn’t necessarily expect his mother to be waiting at the front door. However, I am surprised that we’re greeted by a middle-aged man, dressed in a pullover sweater, dress shirt and tie.
The guy takes our coats with a warm smile and says with a bit of an English accent, “Grayson? How nice to see you, sir. And you must be Ms. Harte?”
“Please, call me Izzy.” I give him a nervous smile as he leads us through a huge foyer.
“Don’t worry, we don’t bite. Mrs. Patten is waiting in the parlor.”
I whisper to Grayson. “She has a butler? I should’ve dressed up.”
He eyes my over-the-knee boots, leggings, and black tunic, then winks. “You’re perfect. Good enough to eat.”
We’re led into a room right out of a Victorian romance novel. A wooden box of assorted teas sits on a carved-foot coffee table. There’s also a delicate set of china tea cups with a matching blue and white creamer.
A beautiful woman in her sixties, dressed in high boots, jeans, and a cable knit sweater gives Grayson a smile. She kisses his cheek, leaving at least a foot between them. When finished, she gives me a once over. Apparently, I pass inspection for she gives me a half-smile and she takes my hand in a rather limp shake.
“Isabella? How lovely to meet you. So, you’re the woman who stole my son’s heart.”
Her tone is not friendly but not overly hostile, either. I give a worried glance at Grayson who throws me a wink and a smile.
This is my doing. Despite his warnings, I insisted on meeting her.
“Sit, please.” His mother moves between us, hoping to make Grayson take a chair and me with her on the couch.
However, Grayson has a bit of a coughing spell, something I’ve never seen him do. When she moves for a tissue box, he plops on the couch and drags me with him.
I whisper, “Fast move.”
“You know it.”
She turns with a frown, then perches down on the edge of a ladderback chair making me wonder if she practices posture in a mirror, daily.
Holy shit, although it’s only ten in the morning, I wish had something a whole lot stronger than what’s in front of us.
“Coffee, mother?” Gray holds up an expensive-looking glass carafe.
“Dear God, no. I’ve been off from that for years. Haven’t you read how bad it is for you?”
I chuckle a little nervously. “Maybe I’ll have to rethink it.”
Her mouth purses and tiny wrinkles grow deep. “Certainly, you should. Terribly bad for the baby.”
My jaw drops, eyes wide and I look to Grayson for some kind of help. “Hey, whoa. Hold on, now. I’m not… I mean… We’re not pregnant.”
At least she blushes bright red. “Oh. I’m so sorry, dear. I just assumed, what with the wedding so rushed… Nothing personal dear, but you’re not exactly Grayson’s type.”
I nudge my fiancé hard with an elbow and he finally jumps in to the rescue. “Just stop, Mom.”
He puts his arm around my shoulders. “I knew the minute I saw her, Isabella was the one.”
“You did?” I smile, thinking of the day I stormed into his office, yelling at him about my performance review.
“Sure, I did.” He kisses me on the tip of the nose, squeezes my hand, and everything inside goes warm and fuzzy.
His mother clears her throat in an irritated manner. “I assume you’ll want the wedding up here. I can work with you on the details and–”
“No. We’re getting married in International Falls, Minnesota.” Gray uses that no-arguments allowed tone.
“My God. Is that even a place?” His mom sets her tea cup down too quickly, liquid sloshes onto the saucer, and she stares aghast as if she’d broken it.
I nudge Grayson in the ribs, feeling a little sorry for her. “We’re also planning on another party in Manhattan for friends and family.”
Her mouth goes tighter, if that’s even possible, and her posture more perfected. “May I see you in the kitchen, Grayson James.”
“No, Mom. You may not. I love you, dearest, but this is not up for discussion. Call Cherry. I’m sure she’d love to hear your suggestions.”
The tops of her cheeks are bright as she stands “Very well, then. How about we go riding? You do ride?” She peers imperiously down her nose and I almost don’t answer but this is my future mother-in-law. Best I make nice.
I smile sweetly. “One of my cousins runs a dude ranch out west. I worked summers there, all through college.”
Her brows go up but not as much as before. “I assume you brought clothes?”
Grayson laughs, stands, and pulls me off the couch. “Of course. I’ll get our bag in the car.”
I follow him out and hiss, “Oh. My. God.”
“I warned you.”
“I know but wow. Is she always like this?”
“Normally, she’s worse but once she’s on horseback, she’s a whole different woman.”
Sure enough, on the horse path, her tight mouth loosens, her hair comes out of its bun, and her eyes brighten, taking away at least ten years.
After a bit, she smiles. Especially, when she sees how well I get along with the lovely, mild mannered horse. The path meanders through fields filled with violets popping through new green grasses and trees, thick with buds. The sun warms me but I was glad I had my heavy coat because the wind is fierce.
Grayson presses in his legs, urging his mount ahead so his mom rides up beside me. “I really am sorry about my gaff. It’s just that you aren’t really of his class now, are you dear? How will you manage?”
Grayson’s out of earshot so I guess it’s up to me to set the ground rules with my future mother-in-law. I dealt with Xavier and my cousin, Mike. Surely, I can handle her.
“I worked for your ex-husband, you know.”
“How interesting.” Her tone says just the opposite but I ignore it.
“That’s how we met. I was going to take Patten Securities to court, for how they treated women.”
She gives me her first real smile. “Grayson’s father was a piece of work. Thank God, his son is more like me. That’s why I’m so worried about this marriage. I don’t want him to make the same mistakes I did. I was so sure his father was the one. I just knew it. And I was so, so wrong.”
“That’s why I was the one who insisted we wait.”
Her brows lift. “You were?”
“Oh my God, yes. If he had his way, he would’ve married me last month, after knowing me only a few days. I’m the one who keeps insisting we need to know each other better.”
She thinks as her horse picks her way through a stony section of the path. “I see… I bet you were the one who insisted on coming here, as well.”
“Well, we both did.”
She snorts a little laugh out her nose. “Not likely, but thank you for saying so. Do you like children?”
There’s hope in her eyes and I’m glad to find some mutual ground that will make her happy. “I was an only but I’ve got fifteen uncles. I absolutely adore large families.”
She clucks her tongue, laughs, and rides forward to meet up with Grayson.
I count this one as a win.