Chapter 30
Grant
Grant stomped out of the house. After giving a curt goodbye to the maid, he jogged back to his father’s estate.
“We could have sent a car for you,” Stefan said mildly when Grant returned, and Gus jumped all over him in greeting.
“No need,” Grant said.
He and Kate had stayed up late to help clean then finished up in the morning. Grant slept in a spare bedroom. He somehow resisted the urge to visit Kate in the night. Maybe he shouldn’t have told her that story about the stripper. Was it too tasteless? Maybe she was hinting that she wanted someone like one of the Davenport sons. The other two were single, right? What if they up and decided to marry Kate? He would have to kill them, he decided, especially if it was one of them that sent her that awful picture.
Why did it feel as though nothing in his life worked out?
He still had that letter in his room, waiting for him. He tried to ignore it while showering. He shouldn’t become involved with his mother. Things weren’t all bad. Kate wasn’t happy about the picture. That was all. He needed to find out who had sent it.
When he got downstairs, Stefan directed him to the terrace for lunch. His father and his uncle Jack were outside, already eating.
“Grant!” His father seemed happy.
Grant looked at the glass in Walter’s hand—he’d been drinking. His father poured him a generous glass of whatever amber cocktail he was having.
Grant took a swig and coughed when it burned his throat. Jack chuckled. Grant wondered if his uncle was starting to warm up to him.
“I thought you would be used to drinking swill from the Marines,” he said jokingly.
“I didn’t drink any of the stuff people were ‘home brewing.’”
Jack cracked a beer open for him.
“This is much better,” Grant said appreciatively.
“Jack made it,” his father said. “It’s brewed with the honey from the bees on the estate.”
“It’s really impressive,” Grant said.
Jack seemed more relaxed since Grant had met him. He looked suspiciously at him, wondering why he was in such a good mood.
His father looked at his expression with a grin. “He’s back from visiting his sons, so he’s in a good mood, which is very uncharacteristic for my dear older brother.”
“I see,” Grant said. He didn’t want to put himself in the middle of their family dynamic.
“Someone has to keep you in check,” Jack said with a quirk of his mouth.
“How are your kids?” Grant asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever run across them. I mainly operated out of the West Coast bases.”
“They were on the East Coast,” Jack said. “But they’re fine. Well, fine enough. I’m trying to convince Mark to end his service agreement. He’s been in eight years and achieved captain’s rank.”
“Tell him to hurry up. We have work for him,” Walter said.
“I know,” Jack said.
“We’ll even find something for Carter to do.”
Jack shook his head, annoyed. “I wouldn’t let Carter within a hundred feet of the company. I don’t want him to do another combat deployment, but being warehoused in the military was probably the best place for him. He’s so out of control.”
“He’ll be fine,” Grant said. “I’ve seen a lot of guys come in complete hotheads, and they tend to straighten out as they enter their twenties.”
“He’s slowly getting there. He made lance corporal,” Walter reminded Jack.
“Yes, for the third time.”
“He keeps getting busted down to private?” Grant asked. “For what?”
“Not doing anything heroic like how you got demoted a rank for killing those child rapists. Last time, it was because he punched his lieutenant in the face. He’s been in almost six years and is still a lance corporal.”
Grant guffawed. “I’ve never met a lieutenant that didn’t deserve it. I can’t believe I didn’t hear about it!”
“Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf now that he knows he’s almost done,” Walter offered.
Jack grimaced. “It’s doubtful. I’m sure I’ll receive a call from Mark about some trouble he’s been up to.” He sighed then said, “He was supposed to be a girl. I always wanted a daughter. I was so happy when the doctor said it was a girl. Then he wasn’t. He came out screaming, and he’s been a holy terror ever since. When Walter’s daughters were born, it was like I had been given the daughters I always wanted.” He shook himself.
The mood at the table had darkened.
“Probably why I shouldn’t drink,” Jack said ruefully and stood up, excusing himself.
Grant and his father remained sitting outside. Grant felt the wind blow and looked up and saw clouds roll in.
“Is it supposed to rain today?” he asked, trying to make conversation.
His father ignored the question and said, “All Jack does is complain about Carter, but he’s part of the reason he’s like that. Jack was so busy at our company, working a hundred hours a week, and was never home.”
“You two built it together?”
“It was actually Jack’s business first.” His father took another sip of his drink then grimaced. “I was only going to help him one semester; Jack never thought or maybe even wanted Holbrook Enterprises to grow this large. I guess I sort of edged him out and took control of the company away from him. Money and business and family are complicated, especially when you mix them all together.”
“What happened?”
“I saw an opportunity to take the company in a more profitable direction. Jack didn’t want to, so I went behind his back, and I just did it. I don’t think Jack ever forgave me. I made us rich, but he was still so angry. He sacrificed a lot to build the company and spent a lot of time away from home. His kids suffered. He scaled back after I convinced him to move into the foundation work, but by then, it was too late. I think I ended up spending more time with Carter than he did.” Walter studied his drink.
“Mark was level headed enough to sort of take it, or maybe he’s just more even tempered. He’s a lot like his father. Carter is more like me in that he goes out and does what he wants. An idea pops into his head, and he chases after it. He was great with my kids. I wonder who they would have grown up to be.”
He looked so sad. Grant felt guilty that he was there. He was clearly not anyone’s first choice.
Walter looked at Grant seriously. “I still sort of wonder who you are.”
Grant’s stomach dropped. Had his father found the letter from his birth mother?
Then his father smiled at him. “I was always the screw-up younger brother until, one day, I wasn’t. You can’t escape your past, though. Those skeletons won’t stay buried.”
Grant wanted to ask him about Danielle, his birth mother, but then it started to rain, and they hurriedly packed up everything and moved it inside.