Saving Grace (14 page)

Sure, he was going to help out her uncle, but that didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Chord wanted her as a woman.

Grace wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever known. Charm didn’t work on her. Let’s face it, if the pulled-up peonies and Halloween candy hadn’t melted her heart, nothing would.

What about romance?

He let out a long, slow breath. He’d never really had to romance anyone. Being the quarterback in high school and college, had brought him all the women he could ever handle and then some. He reviewed his girlfriends starting with most recent—Debra—and working backward. He made it all the way back to junior high and couldn’t remember chasing any of them.

He nodded to himself. No one loved a challenge more than Chord. He pulled into the semi-circle drive of West Lake Hills Elementary. As of right this minute, he was turning on the charm and beginning the romance of one Grace Kelley, and she would be his…no matter what, because he never lost.

Two hours later, Chord hung up the phone from his last conference call and pulled up his calendar. He needed an assistant. The last one, JoeAnna, hadn’t worked out. She was whiney and always hinting that she was single.

Maybe Grace wanted to earn so extra cash during the day and bonus…he’d get to spend more time with her. Something part-time. He’d just call her right now and see what she was doing.

He slid his cell phone out of his coat pocket and pulled her up in contacts. He hit call and then hung up. He was supposed to square away Uncle Vernon this morning. He glanced at his calendar. He had thirty whole minutes between meetings.

He pulled up Safari and searched Alzheimer’s Care Units in Austin. There were several options. He clicked on the first place Longhorn Care. It looked like a resort with restaurants and swimming pools. The next one had all that and a huge gym. He scrolled down to Bella Verde. It was nice and relatively close, but nowhere as nice as the other facilities…still, this was the one Grace had mentioned.

He found the phone number, picked up his office phone, and dialed.

Grace was going to be so surprised and excited…he’d have her wrapped around his finger.

Grace was doing her level best to not think about Chord while folding his laundry. You could tell a lot about a man by washing his clothes. First he valued comfort above all else based on the boxer briefs and the fact that the man only wore one-hundred-percent cotton.

She folded another pair of boxers and added them to the tall stack. Sizing up the stack, she counted…one…two…three, four…There were eleven pairs of boxers just in this load. Either than man hadn’t done laundry in a while, or he snorted clean underpants when she wasn’t looking.

The house phone rang so Grace ran into the kitchen to answer it. Clementine grumbled at the interruption of his nap, but flopped over and went back to sleep.

“Hello.” She smiled into the phone expecting to hear Chord’s voice. With the exception of the occasional pollster or sales call, he was the only person who called on the home phone.

“Mrs. Robbins this is Helen McMann. I’m the new principal at West Lake Hills Elementary, and we need you to come to the school immediately.”

“I’m not Mrs. Robb—”

“Your son HW was in a fight this morning, and I’m afraid suspension is in order.” Ms. McMann’s superior tone made Grace angry.

HW wouldn’t fight unless there was a very good reason.

“What happened?” Her heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Please come up here immediately and get him. We’ll discuss it when you get here.” Abruptly, she hung up.

Rude much?

Grace grabbed her keys, her cell, and her purse. As she walked out to her car, she dialed Chord.

He picked up on the third ring. “You want me bad. Can’t even wait three hours to talk to me.”

He was whispering.

“HW got into a fight at school, and I’m going to pick him up.” Grace slammed her car door and started the engine.

“What?” Chord’s loud voice got him some shushing in the background.

“HW got into a fight at school. I think you need to be there. Can you meet me at the school?” She sped down the driveway and clicked the massive gate open. “Where is the school?”

“Bee Caves Road. It’s about a mile past Three Sixty.” He must be walking because the phone bumped against his ear. A door opened, and then he said in his normal tone, “I can’t. I’m in the middle of a conference call with the President of the NFL and all the head coaches. Normally, I’d leave, but I’m the one who called this meeting. I can’t. I’ve got to get back. Text me later with the details.”

Then he was gone.

She understood he had an important job, but this was his child. She fisted her hands in frustration. As a single dad, he walked the fine line between family and work every day. Unfortunately, work won out, because Grace was there to help with family. She was fine with that, but she couldn’t help but feel his kids were suffering for it. What would it take for Chord to put his family first? Trouble was, in his mind he did.

Twenty minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot on the side of the school. After walking around to the front doors, she pulled them open, walked to the next set of doors, and pulled. Nothing happened. They were locked. It was a sad state of affairs that a school had locked doors. There was a buzzing sound, and then the lock clicked and she pulled the door open.

Posters covered every available wall space. Anti-bullying and something called The Five Pillars of Character were the main topics. She looked around for the mention of the actual character pillars, but apparently she was just supposed to know what they were.

Grace walked into the office and up to the front desk. “I’m here for HW Robbins.”

A fifty-something woman with a mass of long, curly blonde eighties hair smiled up at her. “Yes, he’s in Ms. McMann’s office.”

She pointed over her left shoulder. “It’s down that hall and to the left.”

“Thanks.”

Being sent to the principal’s office as an adult was slightly less intimidating. She followed the front desk lady’s instructions and found the office. She knocked on the closed door.

“Yes.” A voice called from the other side.

Grace turned the doorknob and the door swung open.

HW sat on a chair with bruised knuckles, a swelling eye, and a bad attitude. Cart sat next to him with defiant eyes, and an angry set to his jaw.

She went to HW and knelt down. “Let me get a look at that eye.”

It was swollen, red, and fast turning purple. He had the makings of a shiner.

“Ms. Robbins, we need to discuss your son’s behavior.” McMann’s superior tone grated on Grace’s nerves.

“I’m not his mother.” Grace tilted his head up so she could get a better look at it.

“Your stepson then. I won’t tolerate fighting at my school.” McMann took off her glasses, and tossed them on the desk. “I’m afraid I have no choice but to suspend HW for the next week. We have a zero tolerance for fighting in this school district.”

“I’m sure we can straighten this out.” She turned to HW. “What happened?”

“So far both he and Cart have refused to talk. I haven’t been able to ascertain what’s behind this.” McMann huffed out a breath. Her exaggerated sense of self-importance was starting to piss Grace off.

HW shot the principal a glare. “Corbin Matthews started it. He called Cart stupid because he doesn’t talk all of the time. Then Jonah Majors jumped in and started calling him a dummy.”

He shot out a self-righteous hand and pointed at Cart. “That’s my brother, and I can’t have people calling him names.”

Grace bit back her smile of pride. That was her boy. She turned to McMann.

“I understand you don’t tolerate fighting, but according to the posters plastered everywhere you also don’t tolerate bullying. Which do you consider worse? The bullying of a child or the brother who stood up for him?”

McMann’s color was turning sallow. “When you put it that way.”

She scratched the back of her neck. “Um…”

“I trust that you’ll deal with the bullies as harshly as you’re punishing HW.” She took his hand and grabbed Cart’s. “We’re leaving. We’ll be back tomorrow…both boys, that is. You may suspend him for the rest of the day, but more than that is out of the question. He was standing up for his brother, and that’s honorable. Good—bye.” The last words sounded a lot like fuck off.

“Now wait a minute.” McMann rose from her chair, but Grace continued pulling the boys out the door, down the hall, and didn’t stop until she was at her car.

“The nerve of that woman.” Grace slammed her key into the passenger’s side door lock and twisted with a vengeance. The door unlocked and she ripped it open. “Get in.”

McMann was a piece of work. Her condescending tone and willingness to persecute HW practically made steam come out of Grace’s ears. She was willing to admit that where HW was concerned her judgment might be a little clouded, but anyone with an impartial eye could plainly see that HW was a fantastic kid with a heart of gold, who would never hurt anyone unless he was protecting someone he loved.

The boys climbed into the back seat, and she closed the door so hard the car rocketed back and forth. After walking around the car, she climbed behind the wheel. Her cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket and touched the screen. “What?”

“Everything okay?” Chord asked.

“They’re fine.” Her voice was a good octave higher. “HW was defending Cart against a bully, and
the principal
tried to suspend our wonderful boy for a week.”

She took a deep breath to steady herself. Since her uncle had been a high school chemistry teacher, she’d been raised respecting school hierarchy and politics, but McMann had gotten under her skin.

“Christ, what did you do to her? Do I need to call my attorney? Is Principal McMann alive?” By the tone of his voice, he was only half kidding.

“Yes…barely.” She could feel her blood pressure returning to normal. Chord had a calming effect on her. Did she do the same for him? It was an interesting thought.

“Take some more deep breaths.” He rustled some paper. “In about an hour, I have thirty minutes free. You could bring me lunch so I can make sure you and HW are okay.”

“What happened to the lunch I packed you?” She checked her watch. Twelve thirty. She could do a one-thirty lunch.

“I had it for a snack a long time ago.” He made it sound like that had been eons since he’d eaten.

“I guess I could stop by Whole Foods and pick up something for us to eat.” She looked in the rearview mirror at the boys. “Want something from Whole Foods?”

They both nodded. It didn’t matter that they’d probably just eaten. Boys were hungry bottomless pits.

“Okay. I’ll pick up a few things.” She nodded. At least he was concerned enough to want to check on HW now.

“Good. The boys can show you how to get here.” Chord sounded rushed. “I’ve got to go.”

“See you in an hour.” Grace said right before he hung up. Her heart fluttered at the prospect of seeing him, and she rolled her eyes at her body’s reaction. She chose to ignore the lift in her spirits.

“Okay boys. What should we get from Whole Foods? Should we stop at home and pick up Clementine?”

Cart nodded vigorously. “Yes…yes…yes.”

HW rattled off several things he wanted to eat.

It struck Grace that this was a normal day in the life of a soccer mom—only they didn’t play soccer, and she wasn’t their mother. The fact that she was the closest thing they had should have made her feel uncomfortable, but she was proud to be their surrogate soccer mom. It was enough…for now.

***

Chord willed time to speed up like a kid waiting at the gate for Six Flags to open. It wasn’t that he wanted to see Grace, it was because he was worried about his boys, and he was hungry.

Yeah, right. He wanted to see Grace.

Would she be wearing her usual skinny jeans and T-shirt? He’d never fully appreciated skinny jeans until they’d been wrapped around Grace’s incredibly long legs. He was fascinated by her legs—especially where they met her ass. She had a pretty great ass…round and firm. He glanced at the clock on his computer. It was a whole minute later than the last time he’d checked.

He rubbed his eyes. What in the hell was he doing? He’d spent the morning calling Alzheimer’s facilities, and now he was mooning over Grace. He massaged the tight muscles at the back of his neck. The roster needed approving, he had contracts to look over, conference rule updates to memorize, but he couldn’t get his personal Mary Poppins out of his head. What were the odds he could get Grace to dress up as Mary Poppins for Halloween, or maybe for bed one night?

If only they’d sleep together, they could get their fill of each other and move on as friends. Only he didn’t want her to move on in any way shape or form. What if they slept together and liked it? He preferred monogamy…being a one-woman kind of man made life simple, and he liked simple.

Grace liked simple things too—family dinners, taking the kids to the park, playing board games. He also enjoyed those things. What if they spent their evenings enjoying the family things and then secretly slept together and enjoyed more adult adventures. It was doable—only it felt wrong lying to his kids. He didn’t want Grace to be a secret. At home, she was his partner and in the least, she should be an equal partner in their upcoming relationship. Secrecy didn’t breed equality. He’d have to puzzle that one out later.

For now, he clicked his web browser and Googled Mary Poppins costumes. He particularly liked the frothy white one with the red ribbons. What size did Grace wear?

He made a mental note to snoop around at home to find out.

His desk phone rang. He picked it up and put the receiver to his ear. “Yes.”

“Mr. Daniver is ready for you.” It was CanDee his boss’s assistant.

Crap. He closed the web browser and picked up the contract he was supposed to be going-over.

“Okay. I’ll be right up.” He hung up the phone and stood. After buttoning his suit jacket buttons, he walked around the desk and out of his office. Warren Daniver, the youngest general manager and team owner in NFL history, was efficient and abrupt. In Chord’s opinion, there was a stick shoved so far up his ass that Chord expected to see it every time Warren opened his mouth. He was the king of uptight. His boss had the entire top floor of the Lone Stars’ complex; he’d decorated it with exactly one desk, a desk chair, and a single chair opposite the desk. The man was a minimalist’s minimalist. Instead of taking the elevator, Chord ran up the three flights of stairs to the fifth floor.