Sordid

“Stop. Most parents work. You’re doing what needs to be done to provide for Isabella.”

“I need to be there more for her, Bridget, and I’m not.” He huffs.

“You’re a good man, Grant. Give yourself a break. You’re running a multimillion-dollar hotel chain. You’re providing for Isabella’s future. Nobody questions that you’re a good father.”

“How would you know that?”

“Office talk. I hear it all. People genuinely think you’re a good person. Scary, but good.”

“Scary?”

“Totally frightening.”

He chuckles.

“You’re something else, Bridget Miller.” He smiles.

I watch as his smiles fades and his eyes drill into mine. I’m almost afraid of what’s coming next.

“That night, when I saw you standing there, you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. I had a shitty day, and I was so angry, but somehow this stranger in front of me made it all disappear. All the bad of my marriage, my family issues, that fucking day just melted away when I saw you.”

I’m speechless. That’s not at all where I thought the conversation was going. He looked so serious, so brooding. To know that is what he thought when he first saw me is flooring.

“Grant, I-I don’t know what to say.”

“When I kissed you, I didn’t want to stop. I knew you could be my ruin. I had to get away. I should’ve stayed away.”

“I came to you, Grant. I might not have known it that first day, but I did all the same. I have to believe everything happens for a reason. Maybe I was meant to come into your life to help you through this time.”

Grant scoffs. “It’s just the universe fucking with my life a little more. It keeps dangling you in front of me. The fucking forbidden fruit.” His eyes pierce mine. “I want to give you so much more than I can right now. I can’t promise you forever and it’s killing me.”

His words sting, but they aren’t new to me. I know this, and although I don’t truly want to accept it, I have no other choice. I’ll take any sliver Grant Lancaster throws my way, because despite myself, I’ve fallen for him.

“Then promise me right now,” I say.

Right now he’s having a hard time seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Chelsea has his balls in a vise, twisting and turning every other day. Eventually, she’ll tire of her own games. Women like that never stay happy long. After a while, all this won’t be enough to keep her. I know her kind. Grant can’t see it now, but I can. One day he’ll be free of her, and when that time comes I’ll have my shot. He’s worth waiting for.

I walk over to him and kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Let’s get that Chinese. I’m starving.”

“Anything for my girl.” He gives me an all-American smile and I melt.

It’s all worth it. He’s worth it.





“What’s this?” Bridget asks as we lie entwined in each other’s arms. Her finger trails a circle over a small scar on my chest.

“Nothing,” I hiss, moving her hand away from my skin. Instantly, I regret the move. I didn’t mean to snap at her. I’m just not used to anyone touching me, let alone touching a place that holds a memory like that one. Softly, her fingers touch my hand and give a little squeeze. I lift my head and look at her blue eyes filled with nothing but concern for me.

“Please,” she whispers. “Please tell me about this scar. It obviously hurts you, but if you tell me maybe you will find some sort of peace in the memory.”

I realize I want to tell her. I finally want to open up to another person and why can’t I?

“I was a kid when I got it. I don’t remember much, but what I do remember is I’d fallen and gotten stuck and Spencer saved me.” My back is stiff as I remember my older brother saving me. He was always saving me.

“Saved you how?” Her voice rises.

“When he recounts the story, he says I fell from a tree and got stuck on a branch overlooking the lake at one of our family homes. The branch was about to crack and if I’d fallen, I would’ve drowned because I couldn’t swim.”

Bridget gasps. “Oh my God. That’s scary. Spencer must’ve been quick on his feet to save you.”

“He was. Spencer was always looking out for me.”

Her face softens. “Please reach out to Spencer,” she pleads. “You clearly miss him, Grant.”

“Too much time has passed. What would I even say at this point?”

“Be honest. Tell him you made a mistake and ask for forgiveness.”

“Why should I apologize? My father kicked me out. My brother stole my rightful position. It’s them who should be apologizing.”

“Listen to yourself. Do you really believe the words you’re saying? It wasn’t long ago that you confided in me you made the mistake of marrying Chelsea. So, which is it?”

“I’m done talking about this,” I snap.

“Don’t let your pride get in the way of a future with your family. You’ll never regret saying you’re sorry, but you’ll regret not saying it.”

She’s right. I know she is, but hell if I’ll say it out loud. Pride is something I have in spades. It very well could be my downfall, but I’m not ready to admit that to anyone. Not even Bridget.

“I’m not apologizing.”

“It’s a shame. After everything that’s happened between us, you still feel the need to lie to me. You and I both know your family did what they needed to protect the family. It might’ve been harsh and you may not like it, but think about what Chelsea would have if your dad had given in.”

The thought makes me ill. If Chelsea had her way, she would’ve sunk The Lancaster years ago and taken every last dime.

“All I’m saying is think about it. I could tell in those few minutes in your office that your brother misses you as much as you miss him—despite whatever shit Chelsea’s talked you into over the years. He’ll forgive you.”

It’s me who won’t forgive myself.




“What do we have here?” Bridget asks, eyes sparkling when I step into the elevator, Isabella behind me clinging to my leg. Hiding from the world. When she sees Bridget her eyes light up.

“Hello.” Isabella claps, remembering Bridget.

“Hi, Isabella. You came to work with Daddy?”

“My mommy too,” she whispers.

Bridget looks up at me with wide eyes. “Is Isabella joining us today?”

“She’s my right-hand man for the day,” I say, and Isabella lets go of my leg and steps out to face me.

“But I’m not a man,” she pouts.

“You’re right, you’re not. You’re my right-hand girl. Better?” I smile.

A tiny dimple forms in her cheek and my world shifts on its axis. When Isabella smiles, all is right in the world. She’s been the one constant over the years. As many times as I’ve cared for her scrapes and cuts, she’s mended me twice as much. My heart would be made of stone if not for her. With all the disappointment, resentment, and anger, she’s been the one thing that’s grounded me.

All the anger I have from the events of the morning fade away in her happiness. The elevator chimes, indicating we’ve arrived at my penthouse office. All three of us file out. Isabella runs forward, leaving Bridget and me to follow behind.

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