Grant and Jeffrey — I’ll never be able to think of the name Jeffrey without a snotty sneer again — exchange a few more pleasantries. The two minutes go by overwhelmingly slowly. Armageddon will take less time to kill us all, but Jeffrey eventually sees someone more interesting and makes his way to them.
When we’re alone, I decide there’s no better time than the present to get the answers to my questions. “Why didn’t you tell me you bought Del Fray?”
“Why would I? You’ve never taken a real interest. Are you planning a career change?”
“It seems like a big thing.”
Grant shakes his head. “Well it’s not. I buy businesses all a time. It’s what my family does.”
“You told me you made credit card machines.” With his arm in mine, Grant leads me from the middle of the lobby back to a small, out of the way collection of tables. Each one is covered in a white tablecloth with a multitude of various glasses and small plates perfectly arranged on top.
“Del Fray makes credit card machines?” I ask when we stop in front of a table.
Grant pulls out a chair. “No, they made one of the chips that go inside the credit card machines. The technology is light years ahead of what many companies offer. Our ability to get this chip at manufacturer costs will save us millions of dollars over the next ten years.”
“Oh.” I understand enough of what he said, and I get saving millions of dollars is a good thing. “Oh that’s good then. A lot of the kids who visit the center have parents who work for Del Fray.”
Grant nods his head twice, but his eyes search the distance behind me. “What are you looking for?” I ask.
“My grandparents. They’re sharing a table with us,” he’s silent for a few beats, “and your dad.”
“What?”
Grant rubs my shoulder. It’s the only thing keeping me at the table. “Don’t worry. He’s not coming. I double checked this morning. He’s out of town.”
“Then why do you look worried? And he’s not my dad.” I throw in at the end.
I thought we were over this whole father business? I made it clear to Grant I didn’t want to hear about him. And I definitely don’t want anyone calling him my dad.
“Don’t worry.” Grant stares at me and for a moment I get lost in his eyes. “I told you I’ll handle it and I am.”
I’m not sure how hiding me from William for the next five years is handling it. Or how he’ll accomplish it if we try out the whole dating thing. Which I would like stated I’m still on the fence about.
“Oh, here they are.” Grant stops with the fidgety eyes and focuses on one location in the back of the room.
The two people who look strikingly alike. Like one of those Facebook links where the owner resembles the dog. It’s possible they’ve been together so long they’ve started to mold into one similar-looking person. Both are short, the husband a few inches taller, but both have greying white hair cut in short styles. Grant’s grandma wears hers spikey in the back and it instantly makes me like her already. Her long floor length blue dress sparkles in the lights along with her husband’s matching tie.
They approach the table and my stomach does a little topsy-turvy. What am I supposed to do in this situation?
Stand up and shake their hands?
Stand up and do cheek kisses?
Who knows what the rich do at fancy parties? If I don’t make a decision soon the only option left will include making a fool of myself in indecision.
If I get through tonight, I will give up the idea of making Drew get a kitten.
The couple gets closer and I don’t move, my eyes widening and giving credence to the saying deer in headlights. With courage I force myself to stand when they’re a few paces away, my knees wobble. Grant’s smile brightens. It’s obvious he adores his grandparents.
“Grandma. Grandpa.” The couple circles the table stopping to give out hugs before their attention turns to me. His grandmother’s eyebrows flinch up for a moment, but I notice. “This is Clare, the girl I told you about. And, Clare, these are my grandparents, Grant and Maureen.”
I lean past Grant holding a hand out to both of them, which thank heavens they shake and act like it’s not the wrong move. “It’s so nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Moore.”
“Oh, Clare, we’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to put a face to your name,” his grandmother says patting the top of my hand as she does so. “I get to sit next to Clare tonight. I don’t care what you boys do.” She brushes them both off with a hand and promptly takes a seat in the one Grant stands behind.
Grant pushes her chair in and then looks at me, but I’m still frozen. The handshake and introduction went smoothly. I can’t believe it. Now he wants me to sit down and have a conversation with her? Has he gone mad?
“Sit, dear,” she says nodding toward the empty chair, but my legs still won’t move. “We’ll chat while the boys get us a drink. Right?”
