Grace Anne

chapter 3



Michael was enjoying himself. He hadn’t expected to. In fact, he’d about decided that when they’d both came down from the hallway he was going to tell them something had come up. But her telling him what he was going to do made him feel a little vindictive toward her. And when he’d crowded her in the hallway he realized that he might have bitten off more than he could chew.

And Trace was having a great time. He had a way about him that Michael could see in himself. The kid was a charmer all right, and Michael loved it. The few times he’d turned to her for advice, she’d talked to him as though he was on her level and not some stupid kid who she didn’t have time for. The two of them were having a lot of fun. With each other anyway.

Grace ignored him. Well, as much as he’d let her. He had no idea why he baited her, but he enjoyed watching her bite her cheek. He knew she was doing it because Trace had told her that she was going to wear a callous there and then she’d looked like the elephant man like he’d seen on television. Michael had burst out laughing, which had earned him a glare and he was sure a few hundred dirty names in her mind. And yet, nearly three hours later, she was still with them.

“I’m going to get the blue bed with the race car. It’s not too much and I’ll have enough left over to get the curtains I want too.” Trace looked longingly at the bunk beds before he continued. “And I’m going to get the matching blankets, and the lamp for my desk.”

She glanced at the bunk beds too. Michael was about to tell his son that he’d pay the difference when she stepped in. He was suddenly very glad he’d brought her along.

“That’s a good choice. Of course, you managed to save over a thousand dollars in such a short time, right?” Trace nodded and glanced at the bunk beds again. “Maybe you could, I don’t know, borrow the money from someone. I’m betting you’ll get a few bucks at your party today, and you’re not really that short, are you?”

Michael could see the joy leap in Trace’s eyes, but he didn’t jump at the idea. He’d heard them talking about how much money he’d had to spend and the difference between the bed he was getting and the one he wanted was huge. Over a grand difference.

But Michael liked the bunk beds better too. They were wooden, solid oak that had a dresser under one end and a desk the other. The second bed, the lower one, jutted out from under the first in an L shape. It was well made, practical, and the perfect thing for a kid’s room. Hell, he wanted Trace to have them as well and was just on the verge of making the offer when Trace turned to him.

In ten minutes of wheeling and dealing, they had a deal. He’d work for the difference by keeping his grades up and his room clean. And, in exchange, Michael would foot the difference. In less time than it took them to pay for Trace’s new bedroom set, Grace had finished up her own purchases.

Trace got the bedding for each bed and he’d even gotten himself a couple of really “coolness” rugs to set by his bed. Michael was impressed. He wasn’t sure that at this boy’s age, he might have been a lot more impulsive with his purchases. He even offered to pay him interest on the loan he was fronting him. He, of course, told him if he made his payments on time, then he’d be fine. For now. They were coming out of the store when Grace turned to him finally.

“Mr. Cunningham, it’s been very lovely spending time with your son, but I have to get some things done. You two have a very nice rest of the day.” She even held out her hand as if he would take it and then go away. He smiled at her and she took a step back.

“You’ve been invited to spend the day with us. I’m pretty sure that we had more plans, don’t you think, Trace?” He knew he was being a bastard, but he found that he didn’t want to leave her just yet and, apparently, neither did his son.

“I want you to be my date, Grace. Please? It’ll be fun. All my uncles will be there and my aunts. Besides, you were sure helpful when I needed it. I have to repay you now. Besides, you hanging with us made that weird sales lady keep away. She was all over Dad the last time we were here.”

Michael could feel the flush on his face at the boy’s comment. The sales person had been right there with them the entire time. She’d even offered to give him her phone number—several times. Then this time there had been an occasional question answered and Grace had made sure that the answers had been directed at Trace. Something else he’d enjoyed, her putting Trace above their differences.

“Trace, I don’t think your grandmother meant for you to bring a complete stranger to her house. You and your father go and have a grand time. I’ll just go on from here and—” She put out her hand again just as his phone rang. It was his mom. Michael handed the cell to his son and watched Grace shift on her feet and glare at him.

“That was my grandma,” Trace said as he handed the phone back to Michael. “She said you come on with us and that there will be plenty of food. And she said for you to tell Dad to behave himself. I don’t know why she said that, but she said he’d understand.”

Michael threw back his head and laughed. “Yes, I understand. Shall we, Grace?” He waved her toward his car.

“May I speak to you? Privately, please?” She didn’t even open her mouth, her teeth clenched so tight he was sure she was going to do permanent damage to them. She told his son to wait right there, please, and not to move. He walked her to the limo and watched her bend over and climb in. He knew that he’d have that memory burned in his mind for months, if not years to come. She started in on him the moment the door was closed.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? I want you to back off. I’m going to ask you once more to leave me alone. I don’t know how many ways I can—”

He yanked her to him and silenced her with his mouth. Christ, but she was made for kissing. When she moaned and touched her hand to his shoulder he shifted them so that she was sitting nearly on his lap. Lifting her leg, he pulled her onto him and tightened her to his groin. This time the moan came from him. He had never wanted anyone like he did Grace Waite. When a knock at the window stopped him from laying her back over the seat and taking her, he smiled when she whimpered as he pulled back. Another knock, this one harder, had him sitting her on the seat next to him and reaching for the controls.

“It’s raining. Can we go to the store now or are you guys not finished talking?” Trace stuck his head in the window and looked at Grace. “She looks weird. Is she all right?”

“Yes. She was just showing me how much she wanted to come with me. Climb on in, buddy, before you get soaked.”

Michael could tell by the look on her face that she’d gotten the double-entendre. And he was reasonably sure that he was going to pay for it too. He leaned back into the seat and told his driver to take them to the store on Tenth. They were gliding into traffic when her phone rang.

~~~

She didn’t want to answer the call. She wanted to berate the man sitting next to her and then go home. He’d made her feel things that…well, she was sure she’d never felt things like that before. She decided not to think about those things when she answered.

“You f*cking cunt. Do you think I can’t get to you all the way up there in New York City? I can. I will. And the rest of your family will be dead too.”

She didn’t remember her phone being taken away from her. She could hear shouting, but none of it registered. She only knew that someone had found her. Grace tried to pull away from the man who held her and the little boy she’d scared, but Michael kept dragging her back.

“Grace? Grace, tell me…Trace, give me a bottle of water for her.”

She looked up at Michael.

“What is it?” he asked her.

“Nothing. It was…people like to make comments on the type of clothing I sell all the time and sometimes they…this is Trace’s day. I’m not going to worry about a small-minded person when he has so much to celebrate.”

She hoped that he’d understand she wasn’t going to talk about it in front of his son and though he didn’t ask again, she knew that he was far from satisfied. She leaned her head back against the seat and thought about what she had to do now. Now that someone had found her, found her after all she’d done to ensure they wouldn’t, she would have to bolt again.

She could sell him the building. He wanted it and she needed it gone. The caller had been able to find her in New York, which wasn’t all that hard, but if they knew where she was it was only a matter of time before they figured out where she was living too. And they’d found her phone number easily enough. She frowned down at the cell in her hand. It, too, would have to go. She closed her eyes against the sudden pain there. And she’d have to leave everything she knew.

She had a cart in front of her suddenly and she was checking things off her list. She had no idea what the conversations were she participated in. She thought she was giving the correct answers, but she didn’t really care. She was shopping, yes, shopping for food she knew she’d never eat.

The drive to his parents’ was surreal for her. She’d lived in New York for nearly ten years and had never been this far out. The houses got bigger and the lawns much more lush the more they drove. By the time they pulled around the circular drive she nearly had her face smashed up against the window.

Trace was practically bouncing off the seat when he saw the dogs come running toward them. As soon as the car stopped he was out the door and tumbling in the yard with them. Before she could get a few steps away from the car Michael pulled her back toward him. She looked up at him.

“Thank you for allowing me to help with this special time for Trace. I appreciate it. But I really have no…I shouldn’t be here. This is your son’s birthday and you and I don’t even care all that much for each other. I should just go home.”

He looked at her for several seconds and didn’t say anything. She turned toward the house to call someone to come and get her when he called her name. She turned back to him and waited for him to speak. He was standing next to her when he finally spoke near her ear.

“This isn’t going to end however you have going though your mind. I don’t know what happened, but it can’t be as bad as you think it might be.”

“No,” she told him with a sad shake of her head. “No, Mr. Cunningham, it’s much worse.”