Shaking with rage, I walk out to my car, get in and start the drive to Grant’s place. It’s time I set some ground rules.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Aspen
As I make my way down the interstate, I go over all the things I want to say when I see Grant’s smug face. Number one on the list: stay away from my grandfather. If I have to, I’ll get a restraining order so he can never go near Grandpa again. I’m sure there’s some reason a judge would side with me. Maybe causing emotional distress to Grandpa or something. After all, Grant is at the top of Grandpa’s shit list.
Grant doesn’t care about your wishes,a cynical voice inside me points out.Just like he didn’t care about what you wanted or needed back then.
Images from the dream flood my mind—how he forced me to watch the spectacle, how everyone laughed. It’s like he wanted to cement his victory with my humiliation.
He doesn’t—hecan’t—respect me, I think with a bitterness that leaves me shivering. He didn’t before, and that clearly hasn’t changed. He should’ve gotten the hint I don’t want him anywhere near my grandfather based on our interaction at the steakhouse and how I refuse to bring him up or talk about him.
Even if I want to give Grant the benefit of the doubt, I can’t imagine what altruistic motive he could have for visiting Grandpa behind my back. If he didn’t mean any harm, he didn’t have to sneak around.
I hit the security pad by the gates and wait. Grant’s going to see I’m here, and he’s probably going to know why, too.
He can choose to ignore me or not let me in. Or…
He might not be home at all.I have no idea what he does on weekends—that falls outside the work schedule I manage. But he doesn’t have anything to do in the office today. And he doesn’t go in unless he needs to.
Crap. I clench the steering wheel. Should I confront him on Monday instead?
Before I can figure out what to do, the gates open. Maybe he wants to have this discussion on his turf, where he has an edge.
He should’ve known something like that won’t deter me. If I worried about stuff like that, I’d still be holed up somewhere, unable to leave my home, much less get a job with a boss who hates my very existence.
I park my car and climb out, then smooth my dress and push my shoulders back. My chin’s held high, and I walk up to the main entrance and hit the bell.
The door opens, revealing a tall, voluptuous strawberry blonde. I freeze. I didn’t expect to find a woman with him. Acid burns away my stomach lining. I hate it that she’s gorgeous and in an outfit that looks both casual and extremely expensive.
“Oh. You.” The woman’s voice betrays only mild interest. “I didn’t realize you were still in my son’s life.”
It takes me a moment to put things together. “You’re Grant’s mother?”
“I am. Athena Grant.”
“You look so young,” I blurt out. My cheeks heat at the assumption that she was sleeping with Grant.Thank God I didn’t say it.That would’ve been embarrassing.
“You’re pretty for an idiot. Or maybe you can afford to be an idiot because you’re pretty.”
“What?”Is this woman insulting me?The words are cutting, but she’s speaking as though she’s reciting a line from a Buddhist scripture.
“You should’ve milked Grant until he ran dry. You left too soon. Coming back now is a little late.”
I can barely process her words through the blood roaring in my head.Howdareshe talk to me like this?She knows nothing about me, yet here she is, making all sorts of outlandish assumptions about my motives. “Because I didn’t want his money!”
“Everyone wants his money.” She says it like it’s a foregone conclusion, and she won’t consider any argument to the contrary. “They just don’t want to admit it out loud because it’s crass. But honesty is good for the soul, and regrets are acid that eats away at you. I bet it’s killing you to know you could’ve had more. After all, Grant is quite generous with people he cares about. It’s really unfortunate that he hides his ambitions and generosity so well.”
“You don’t know your son very well. Grant’s only generous when he wants something. He cares about no one.”
“I don’t have time for this.” She waves her hand dismissively, then checks the security intercom when it beeps and hits the green button. “If you’re here to complain, you’ll need to wait. Grant’s on the phone with someone with more interesting things to say.”
I knew this confrontation was going to be difficult, but I didn’t expect to battle his mother, too. On the other hand, when did I ever have a fair fight with him?
“Who are you talking to, Mom?” Grant comes out, shoving his phone into his pants pocket.
I glare at him. He must’ve been bad-mouthing me to everyone, including his mother. He must’ve had a good laugh about my situation. And Grandpa, too.
