Blaire

If it weren’t for the evidence between my legs, I would have sworn Grant’s pre-dawn visit was a dream. I wasn’t sure either if the soreness I felt was from my exercise yesterday or from the roughness with which he fucked me. Maybe it was a combination of both.

Taking in the state of the sheets, one would think a wrestling match occurred on the bed. I forced myself to get up and stripped off the bedding. A piece of paper fell to the floor. And like an old woman who was having trouble moving, I bent to pick up the paper.

On it, six words were scrawled.

“Never hang up on me again.”

Anger ratcheted up inside me. I crumpled the note and hurled it into the trash bin, then I walked into the shower to wash Grant off me.

When I got to the kitchen, Colette had breakfast ready as usual, but I was surprised to see Jake drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. Had Grant not left for New York? I was hopeful, but at the same time I was ready to have a knuckle-dragging match with him.

“Where’s Grant?” I asked his head of security.

“He’s in New York,” Jake told me. At my confused look, he added. “He took Tyler with him.” His face was bland, so I wasn’t sure what his thoughts were. Well, he could be sure of mine.

“What. The. Fuck?” I cried, startling Colette. I yanked out my phone and started to call him when Jake fished it out of my fingers. “What the fuck?” This time this was directed at him.

“Cut him some slack,” Jake said coldly. “We drove from New York to Boston at midnight. That was a three-hour drive that should’ve taken us three and a half. It was a wonder we didn’t wreck. He’s in the middle of a security upgrade, which, by the way, is because of your issues and is also in the midst of a multimillion dollar deal the company could lose because Mr. Thorne’s focus is elsewhere.”

That threw water over my anger, but didn’t quite eliminate it. I exhaled heavily. “Okay.”

“I don’t know what happened between you two, but I tried my best to calm him down before he entered the house,” Jake said. “He hasn’t had any sleep because he insisted on driving last night. At least he let Tyler drive him back to Manhattan this morning. He needs to keep a clear head for these next few days, Blaire. Can you give that to him?”

There was only one word I could push through my teeth that morning. “Okay.”

The next three days was an exercise in keeping my cool. Liam was still off the grid. I agreed not to leave the house, so I’d been working out my frustration in the gym because the restrictions stymied my creativity as an artist. With nothing to do, I’d become an online stalker. I was thirsty for news of him, for glimpses of him, and how he was coping with the Galleria development that I’ve heard was a big story on Wall Street. Instead, I found photos of Grant sitting in various Manhattan cafes and restaurants with the same woman—an ex-girlfriend.

The headlines were screaming of a reconciliation.

Tech genius, Kylie Peterson, found cozying up to ex-boyfriend, business magnate Grant Thorne. For the fourth day in a row, the couple have been seen together at some of the trendiest Manhattan restaurants. Ms. Peterson, the brains behind KP Computing—a subsidiary of Thorne Industries, said their relationship was purely business. However, sources say Ms. Peterson was seen leaving Thorne’s penthouse late yesterday evening. Could they be negotiating a more personal relationship after hours?

“You should stop reading that garbage,” Jake said behind me. “Ms. Peterson is testing the security of our servers. She’s been working round the clock on it and had to drop all her high-priority projects to do that.”

Not even embarrassed at being caught, I left the screen where it was and turned to face him. “He has time to have lunch and dinner with her, but he couldn’t spare five minutes to call me?” Or send even a single text?

“You know that call isn’t going to last only five minutes,” Jake said. “You two have a lot to work out. And I sure hope Mr. Thorne can wrap up his business today because Tyler said he’s been hell to work for.”

“Is Tyler okay?”

Jake smiled. “He’ll be fine. Just needs to get a thicker skin.”

“He didn’t do anything wrong,” I argued. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”

He sighed. “I know, but Mr. Thorne is still figuring out what to do with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a game changer for him, Blaire. At the moment, I think you’re bad for business.” Jake chuckled when I scowled at him. “But the times I see him with you, I think you’re the best thing that ever happened to him.”

“Why, Mr. Donovan, is that actually a compliment?”

He smirked. “It is, but don’t let it go to your head.”

* * *

That evening, I dressed with excitement. Grant was coming home. He was flying in at seven and Jake had already left to pick him up. We were meeting him at a trendy restaurant in the Boston North End to celebrate the successful acquisition of a five-hundred-million-dollar property in Moscow—the Galleria Development. Amelia was picking me up first and then Valerie. The senator would join us at the restaurant since he had a late afternoon meeting with his advisors that was running a little over.

Colette had already left, and I was pacing the living room waiting on the car. There was a fluttering in my stomach, an anxiety I couldn’t quell. I chalked it up to almost three days of not talking to Grant or Liam. I needed some closure on one of the unknowns plaguing my life.

I heard a car pull up the driveway and one of the new security guys called me on the intercom.

I left the house and saw Morris holding the door open to the Bentley. Amelia was inside, smiling at me.

“You look beautiful, Blaire,” she said, noting my red lace over black satin sheathe number. The Spanish-influenced dress dipped in the back, exposing enough skin without being tacky. I wasn’t wearing a bra and I felt no guilt that I was using all my assets to blast through the wall Grant erected between us.

Getting in beside his mother, and grabbing my seat belt, I smiled. “Thanks, and you look gorgeous as usual, Amelia.”

“Now that we’re done with the mutual admiration,” she paused and smiled widely. “Are you looking forward to seeing Grant?”

“I am,” I said. Amelia had been a great source of support during Grant’s radio silence. She’d come over for tea in the afternoons, making excuses that she liked Colette’s teacakes, but I think she was trying to distract me while her son had to do whatever was needed in Manhattan. I enjoyed her company, and she managed to keep my mind off this festering issue between Grant and me, which I was determined to resolve before the night was through. Now if only Liam would call me.

The vehicle pulled into traffic and headed to Harvard to pick up Valerie.

“It’s been a crazy few days,” Grant’s mother observed.

“Yes, it has.” I had googled news of the deal and there were a lot of speculations about the different entities interested in acquiring the mixed-use properties included in the real estate deal. A powerful Russian oligarch was the lead competitor against Thorne Real Estate.

“I’m glad that’s over.” The words barely left Amelia’s lips when the bottom of the car jolted.

An explosion deafened my ears, yet screams pierced my head.

The world tilted on its axis, until it didn’t.

Pain pounded all around me, and then I felt numb.

I stared confused at all the blood covering Amelia’s face, while horror set in.