The Boss Vol. 6: a Hot Billionaire Romance (12 page)

“Merry Christmas, darling.” Phil enveloped me in a Chanel scented hug. “I’m so glad you brought your beau.”

What exactly was I supposed to say about that? The last time Phil had seen us we’d been sneaking out of the frame room. “We’ve been so busy, we figured it was the best way to see you before the holidays completely got away from us.”

“Me too, darling. It’s been a whirlwind year. I can’t believe we’re almost to New Year’s.”

I smiled. “I know. I agree. When I got your invite I knew it was the perfect way to see you.”

“I know it’s a hard time right now. The first holiday without a loved one is always the worst. I want you to come to my house for Christmas. I don’t want you to be alone.”

I gave her smile and curled my arm through Blake’s. “I’m not. Don’t worry.”

“So I see.”

Was I seeing things that simply weren’t there, or had Phil’s lips pursed at my news?

“Nothing against you, Mr. Carson, but I was hoping that my honorary granddaughter was holed up in a studio working on more pieces for my gallery. Not working for you.”

“It’s quite all right. I admit that I’ve been monopolizing Grace’s time, but don’t worry she’s still working on fresh pieces. In fact, we have one right now for you.”

“Now?”

I cleared my throat. “Yes. It’s something special I wanted to show you. Can we go in the back so I can show it to you?”

“Of course. I can leave my own party for a few moments, especially if there’s something in it for me.” Her gold ringed fingers fluttered over the beaded bodice of her jet black dress.

“I know how you love presents.”

“I don’t have yours here though. I was hoping to have you out to the house with us for Christmas.”

“I couldn’t wait to give it to you.”

She lead them back to her office and swept in. “Come in. My space is your space.”

I spotted the charging station full of iPads and my belly tightened. Perfect. I opened my clutch and pulled out the slim envelope. “It’s not wrapped, but I think you’ll forgive my little faux pas when you see it.”

Blake eased the glass out of the wrapper and flipped it around for Phil to look at.

She gasped and held the piece up before crossing the room to her true light stand. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Blake’s speciality is security glass. He let me take a stab at an etching on it.” I backed up to her desk and unplugged one of the iPads before I leaned against the mahogany with an indulgent smile.

Blake explained the glass and brought Phil to her window to show her the way the etching changed in different lights. I slid the iPad off the station and into my purse before turning around to follow them.

“I can’t wait to work with it. I thought I’d tease you with a Christmas gift. You know, to whet your appetite for more.”

“Well, you certainly did. This is gorgeous. You’ll be able to make amazing things with it. I can’t wait to sell them all. You’re going to make me a mint!”

I laughed. “Always the bottom line.”

Philomena shrugged. “It is a business, but you are my favorite artist. That has to count for something.”

“Oh, it does.”

Blake rested his hand at the small of my back. “Shall we get back? We don’t want the natives to get restless because we stole away their hostess.”

“I don’t really care. I can’t wait to put this up. I’m going to create something special at the front of the gallery.”

“I’d be honored.” The words stuck in my jaw, but I managed to spit them out.

“I simply love it. Merry Christmas, darling.” She swooped in and hugged me tight. It took everything inside me not to push her back. To rail at her for lying to me since the beginning of my career.

She drew us back into the room and dragged us to the nearest waiter with a tray of champagne. “To your amazing talent!”

Blake smiled and locked his fingers with mine. It was the only way I could choke down my drink.

Lies everywhere.

I had to get out of there.

“It’s been a very long week. Would you mind if we begged off the rest of the night.”

“Oh, but you haven’t even eaten yet.”

“I know, but you know me. I’m not for the finger food stuff.”

She turned to Blake with a shake of her head. “Annabelle and I tried to raise her right, but she still loves junk over the finer foods.”

He brushed a kiss to my temple. “I keep her well stocked with pizza and Thai food.”

“That he does.”

Out.

Now.

Please.

“All right. You go home and get some rest. Christmas day at my house though. No arguments.”

I nodded. I’d say anything now. I’d never go to her house and spend time with her after what I knew now. Never.

Blake gathered me in and steered me to where we’d checked our coats. The clutch practically burning in my hands as we waited for the attendant.

“A few minutes more.”

I nodded.

He held my coat up for me and took my clutch so I could put my other arm in. “We’re out of here. You did amazing.”

“Oscar winning performance,” I muttered as we swung through the doors and outside. I turned back to look at the lights and laughing people and caught Danny Donnelly talking to Philomena.

God, I hoped it was Oscar worthy.

“Can we go home?”

“Yes. We can go home.”

“No, to my home.” Okay, technically it was Blake’s but right now I couldn’t handle anything else. I needed the familiar and the water to even me out.

“Grace…”

“I know, but I need my grandmother’s house right now. I need the ocean.”

He nodded. “All right.”

“Thank you.”

The trip to my house was silent. Tension flowed off of Blake, but he was willing to do what I needed. When we got inside I noticed the changes to the house right away. Security had been increased and there was electricity, praise be.

I climbed the stairs to my old room and found a few steamer trunks there. He hadn’t taken all of my belongings out yet. I shed the dress and the sexy lingerie in favor of my old overalls and a stain splattered T-shirt.

Little pieces of Blake had infused the house with the unfamiliar. A large bookcase, furniture, and other manly items didn’t fit in with the ultra-feminine memories I had of my home.

He’d had the broken window panes fixed and my eyes misted when the stained glass had been replaced exactly as I’d made them.

I moved out to the porch, lured by the sound of the ocean. The white crests of the waves soothed me like nothing else. The insides of my home might be changing, but this one thing never would.

The view that I’d grown up with. Even as a small child this had been my safe place. My parents had moved everywhere and didn’t think twice about leaving me behind with Annabelle when it suited them.

And finally they just left me here for good. Instead of feeling abandoned, I’d felt found for the first time in my life. Now it seemed like the same thing was happening.

Blake came up behind me. “It’s cold out here.”

“I know, but just a few minutes more.”

“As long as you want, Grace.”

He stood behind me until the tide roared up the beach and drifted over the eroded rocks at the edge of our property. Then I led him inside and brought him to my grandmother’s room.

The four poster bed was the only thing I hadn’t been able to remove from the house. It was simply too big. I gathered up a few quilts and he held me through the night.

When the early gray of morning swept in over the water, he finally stirred. “I need to go into the office.”

“Now you have the iPad for Jack.”

“I do. And I’ll make sure he gets it right away.”

I nodded. “Good.”

“Are you coming in?”

“I need a little time.”

“I don’t like leaving you alone.”

“I know. I see you’ve got the security all set up. And if I know you—and I do—you’ve got it rigged up with cameras.”

He sighed. “I do.”

“Then you know I’ll be safe. I saw the Chapel boxes in the entryway. There’s not a corner you left to chance I’m sure.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“I’ll come in before lunch, I promise.”

“If you don’t I’ll be at the door to drag you in.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

He leaned in and kissed me softly. “I called a car for me, so you can take the Rover in.”

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see you soon.”

I dozed as I heard him moving around. I hadn’t slept much through the night and when I was conscious again it was closer to ten in the morning.

I looked around the room. Most of the furniture had been removed and the paintings that had been here forever had left rings on the walls. I slipped out of the nest of quilts I’d created and went over to the large built in that surrounded my grandmother’s picture window.

I traced the little mermaid that I’d carved for her during my woodworking phase in college. I never strayed far from the glass and lead that I loved, but I did have to learn other mediums. I slid my thumb along the scales of her tail and felt a click.

I frowned.

It had never done that before.

I pressed harder and a spring popped. More secrets. I shook my head and opened the little door. There was another hinge hidden inside. I flipped that open and found a sheaf of papers and something wrapped in oil cloth.

I opened the papers, but they were filled with legal jargon and lost my interest immediately. There was a smaller envelope, but the golden edge of the object in the oil cloth captured my attention.

I flipped it back and gasped.

Recognition was instantaneous. There was no way that I couldn’t recognize it. I stared at it a few times a week when I walked the wharf during my lunches.

The
clock.

Blake’s clock. The cornerstone of his empire was in my grandmother’s home.

With shaking fingers I made myself read the papers. The contracts, and the legalese blurred as tears coasted down my cheeks.

His name.

Blake Carson scribbled at the end of the contract for money.

My grandmother’s money.

One million dollars of my grandmother’s money. Rage spiraled through my bones and shook through my fingers. The clock rattled in my hands as I blindly tore through the house and out the door.

“
S
o you’re not coming
for Christmas. Even though this is the first holiday you’ve actually had someone in your life, you won’t spare some time for your mother.”

I tipped back at the desk in my home office and searched for patience. “Mom, I don’t know what our plans are yet. Since this is our first holiday together, I don’t want to put pressure on her.”

“You mean put pressure on you, to actually be part of a family and do regular family things?”

I sat up straight. “Right, that’s me. Incapable of being part of a family. We’ll just forget all those years I wanted nothing but.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s just all the time on the cruise gave me a chance to think, and I want you and Grace to be a bigger part of our lives. I made some mistakes with you, but we can fix them now. I want to fix them.”

My gaze sharpened as I stared at the watercolor of the Boston Harbor over my desk. Though it was my office, I rarely used it, especially now that Grace lived with me. I enjoyed sitting on the couch with her so much more than shutting myself away in this austere place.

But after the night we’d spent at the beach house after the gallery party, she was sorting through some of her grandmother’s possessions. Not out of sentimentality. No, as always she was on the hunt for answers. Meanwhile I was doing my level best not to study the security app that linked into the Stuart place to make sure she was okay.

The app was a concession, one Grace had allowed me simply because I think she found my over the top protectiveness endearing. When she wasn’t finding it stifling or annoying as hell.

I’d take what I could get.

Speaking of taking, taking my mother’s phone call had not been the smartest move. I still had miles of data from the thumb drive to sort through and didn’t have time to waste on the phone.

Except for one salient point.

“You just came back from a cruise? Alone?”

She sighed again. “You haven’t heard a word I’ve said, have you? No, Brant and I took a week cruise to the Mediterranean. We’re barely off the boat, but I wanted to talk to you. We need to heal this rift, sweetie.”

It probably made me a bad son, and I’d be sure to buy her an extra lavish gift to make up for it, but I wasn’t thinking about rifts or healing or anything beyond what it meant that Brant had been on a boat in the middle of the ocean for the past week.

Specifically, he couldn’t have been the one who had broken into our home.

“I have been listening. Mostly,” I admitted. “There’s been a lot going on, and I’m preoccupied.”

“I knew it! You’re going to propose! Does this mean I can finally look forward to grandbabies?”

I nearly upended my chair. “Say what? No. Dear God. No.”

“To which part?”

“Any of it. All of it.” I tried not to sound as aghast as I felt.

We were in the middle of a possible murder investigation. A suspicious death at the very least, if Annabelle had died due to natural causes. I was seriously starting to doubt that. The timing of her passing had been a little too convenient, and conveniences only came at the value price of twice the going rate at corner stores.

Marriage and children were not on the agenda. Sweet Jesus.

“We’ve only been dating for a short time,” I managed once I’d recovered.

Actually, we hadn’t even had a real date yet. Our one attempt had ended in a break-in and truly spectacular sex in my four-seasons room.

That probably counted as our version of romance, all things considered.

“I’m just saying it’s a consideration down the line. I’m not getting any younger, Blake. Give an old woman something to look forward to in her declining years.”

I fumbled in my desk drawer for my ubiquitous bottle of aspirin. “And that consists of my engaging in a marital union and reproducing?”

“I didn’t get to spend much time with you when you were little. You remember how much I had to work back then.”

“Yes, I do.” I popped the top on the bottle and shook out three pills. On second thought, four would be good.

This headache wouldn’t be vanquished easily, I could just bet.

“So I’d like a chance to do better with the next generation. Maybe do a bit of spoiling. Brant has some money put aside, and we can live as we choose to now.”

“You don’t need his money. You have mine.” There was no keeping the hard edge out of my voice, even if Brant had been on a ship and not sorting through my personal belongings.

Someone
had been.

That he hadn’t physically been on the premises knocked down his possibilities of being involved, assuming he wasn’t working with a partner. Two people working together could always accomplish more than one, though of course then you had to trust them not to spill the beans through malice or sheer ineptitude.

I dry-swallowed the pills and replaced the bottle in the drawer. Hmm. Two people was an option we hadn’t really considered. We’d always imagined a lone wolf working alone, but two people could definitely go places where one on his own could not.

That was an angle we’d definitely have to pursue, if I ever got off the phone.

“I don’t want to rely on my son, and I don’t want to rely on Brant either. I was a careful saver, and I do have a little of my own. But I like that girl, Blake. She’s good for you. And she’d make beautiful babies, so don’t chase her away with your growling and snarling.”

“She happens to like my growling and snarling, and babies are not a concern of either of ours. I’ll let you know about Christmas.” After a moment, I gripped the phone tighter. “We’ll try to stop by, at least for dinner and gifts.”

Gifts. I needed a gift. Lavish or not, right now I had nothing for her. Or Grace, dammit. And Grace for sure wouldn’t be interested in the jelly of the month club I’d bought my mother three years running, along with other assorted things I’d boxed up and sent over.

Truthfully, my assistant at the time had boxed them up and sent them over, but there had been no time for that this year.

So much for me being prepared.

My mother tut-tutted and made noises about being so excited to see us, and about wanting to have a “girls’ night” with Grace to do their hair and makeup and trash men. I guess that meant I wasn’t to chase the beautiful baby maker Grace away, so that my mother could do the honors for me.

Whatever. I had bigger concerns at the moment.

As soon as I hung up, I called the Hawthorne Hotel in nearby Salem to book their best room for New Year’s Eve. Shockingly, this was not available until I offered to up my compensation dramatically, and suddenly within a few moments, a cancellation had been found. I figured that would do in a pinch as far as holiday gifts went. I’d tell Grace I’d booked us a romantic hotel suite and we could dance the night away with a bunch of other besotted drunken fools.

Revelers. I meant revelers.

My next step was to go on Amazon, where I bought my mother a bunch of the things she had on her wishlist. I had them gift-wrapped and sent via Prime, then added in a few more things for Grace as well. Some artist’s tools she might enjoy, and a scarf in the exact blue-green shade as her eyes. I’d failed on the lavish score this year, but I still had a day or two left to shop. At least this way I wouldn’t be empty-handed. What online shopping lacked in personality it made up for in convenience, and I took advantage of it gladly.

Especially since a metric ton of data was still waiting for me.

I was wading through more of it, cross-checking with the list of addresses I had running on my second screen, when the door behind me banged open. Instead of jumping to my feet to face the threat, I calmly eased open the keyboard tray where I’d stashed my gun that morning.

And turned to find Grace cradling my clock with murder in her eyes.

Her gaze dropped to my hand and she huffed out a breath. “Is that how you greet people now, Blake? Gun in hand?”

“Obviously, I didn’t know it was you.”

As discreetly as possible, I tucked the gun into the back of my waistband. I had a feeling opening a drawer would incense her even more.

To be honest, I wasn’t certain I possessed enough strength to turn back to the desk. Just slipping the gun into my waistband had taken untold effort. My limbs felt frozen, disconnected. White noise buzzed in my ears.

Grace had my clock. The one I’d assumed gone so many years ago. I’d grieved for it as I’d grieved for so much else.

“But we’ve fallen so far that if a door bangs open, someone has to be trying to kill you. That’s where we’re at now. Buried in secrets and lies and deceptions. Like this.” She slammed the delicate clock down on a table, and I felt more than heard the glass break. It was if something had been ripped to shreds inside my chest.

But the pieces left behind still ached. That clock represented her more than it did me, and that made its value immeasurable.

I jerked to my feet and rushed forward to still her hands. I was afraid she intended to rip the glass and copper apart. “Don’t. Wait. I can explain.”

“Explain what, Blake? That you built this clock and sold it to my grandmother, then replicated it in your office? That I can believe. Artist Blake finds a good design and makes it his trademark. Hard to imagine something so delicate being so strong, but that’s your specialty, isn’t it?” She traced the hairline fracture in the glass that protected the fragile hands of the clock, and I knew some part of her had to hurt at the damage. She was more of an artist than I would ever be.

But that didn’t mean I was sure she wouldn’t dismantle the rest while I watched. And I wouldn’t stop her, because I loved her.

Good Christ, I loved her, and she was looking at me like I was worthless. This Grace would never feel anything for me but disgust.

Our past, present and future had converged, and I was seeing what was to come. There were emotions far worse than hatred. She would soon reach the point where she felt nothing at all for me. I’d tried to stave off that moment, but it had arrived just the same.

Because of
this
. The testament I’d built to her of how I felt had made her despise me.

I didn’t understand, but it didn’t really matter. She’d found it and if she destroyed it, I would go on as I had for all these years assuming it was gone. I certainly hadn’t believed her grandmother would keep it. Why would she? Back then, its worth had been in materials. I had been a nobody. Less than.

She couldn’t have known what I would become. I certainly hadn’t. And funny, wasn’t it, that standing here while Grace dismantled me with little more than a look, I’d been tossed right back to that same place.

“Yeah, your silence is about the explanation I expected from you. That’s okay. I don’t need it.” She tapped a folded piece of white paper against the side of the clock.

It didn’t work anymore, but I could still hear the hands ticking off the time.

One second became another as what mattered most to me detonated before my eyes.

“I wondered why you’d lost your supposed fascination with me as a teenager. You were fixated. It seemed to me that if you’d really gone so far as to stalk me for years, to even buy my first piece at the gallery, that you wouldn’t have just ghosted without making a move. Not really your style.” She angled her head and a piece of her hair slipped across her cheek. She flicked it away without a thought.

I hadn’t even had a chance to ascertain she was okay at the house. I’d wanted to give her time. To not crowd her. To trust she could handle herself for the few hours we’d be apart.

Few would become many, and my stupid app wouldn’t be able to cover the miles she traversed to escape me.

“But I didn’t ask you. I guess I didn’t want the answer. Whether you’d just been distracted by another woman, or simply focused on building your empire, it didn’t really matter, right? We’d found our way to this place. Sure, I’d lied to get to you, and you’d lied to keep me around, but none of that was important. The most important thing was that I loved you. I
loved
you,” she whispered, her voice breaking as she slapped the folded paper against my chest. “And you sold me off like I was a business transaction.”

Her words echoed in my head as I focused on what she held. I didn’t need to read it to know the contents.

All at once, I knew.

“The contract your grandmother asked me to sign,” I said hollowly.