“Jesus,” she mutters and picks up her margarita, taking a long, thoughtful drink.
I clear my throat, taking another sip of Don to numb the memory. “Yeah, it was tough. But I buried myself in my work and forgot all about her. It was my goal to build up AM Advertising to be the West Coast’s top agency, and I did just that. I’m not sure my focus or dedication would have been fully on the company if Melissa had been in the picture.”
“There’s more to life than work,” Gracie says quietly.
“I realize that now,” I respond, holding her gaze. What she doesn’t know is that she has made me realize that and I want her to know how serious I am about it. I take a moment, folding my arms on the table and continue to hold her gaze. “You’ve taught me that.”
She blinks twice at the intensity passing between us. “How? You’ve only known me for a couple of days.” When the intensity is too much, her eyes drop to her margarita, where her pointer finger runs around the rim of the glass.
“Because for the first time in years, I enjoy something other than work. I find myself obsessed with something other than landing the next big client.” I swallow hard at my admission. I realize this could scare her off, but I’m laying all my cards on the table.
She takes another bite of her tortilla chip and swallows hard. “Don’t get too comfortable with this newfound enjoyment,” she says softly, winking at me, trying to lighten the mood. But I know the weight those words bear. She clears her throat and turns the conversation away from us. “So things are still not good with you and your brother?”
I shake my head and swallow hard. “Not really. We manage to be civil to each other, but that’s about it. Holidays with my mom are always interesting. She’s been trying for years to painstakingly rebuild the burnt bridge between us, and we manage to let her think it’s happening, but honestly, I’m not sure the damage can be repaired. I never expected my brother was capable of this kind of betrayal.”
“Maybe someday you two will be able to mend your relationship,” she responds thoughtfully, pulling me out of my thoughts.
I shrug halfheartedly. “Maybe.”
“What’s that saying?” She taps a finger over her pursed lips and tips her head back. “Everything happens for a reason? Or something like that.”
I nod, trying not to let my smile be bitter. Thankfully, her smile is enough to warm me and make me forget how fucking awful that time in my life was.
“That’s what I always tell myself,” she says. “There has to be some reward in all of the misery life throws at us. Like, after all the pain, the heartache, and the challenges we face, there is some grand reward that will suddenly appear.” Now she shrugs. “I know that sounds stupid, but life can’t always suck, right?”
I let out a small laugh. “The amazing moments far outweigh the shitty ones, I most definitely believe that.”
“I like it,” she smiles, “and I want to believe it too.”
I reach across the table and pull her hand into mine. “Then let’s both believe.”
The rest of the evening is filled with laughter and getting to know each other. Favorite colors, movies, animals, restaurants, and guilty pleasures.
“Pretty Woman.” She smiles widely. “There is no greater love story than Edward and Vivian.” She sighs, shoving a piece of fajita steak into her mouth.
My eyes widen in horror. “She was a hooker, Gracie! It was the most unrealistic love story there is!”
She gasps exaggeratedly and sets her fork down. “You obviously know nothing about love. True love conquers all of the crap life hands us, even for hookers, Drew.” She runs her hands over the cloth napkin in her lap and leans back in her chair.
I can’t help but smile. Leaning in, I rest my forearms on the edge of the table. “Say it again.”
“What?” She wrinkles her forehead in confusion.
“What you just said. Repeat it.”
“True love conquers all the crap life hands us—”
I grin, gloating just a little. “Stop right there. Say it one more time.”
She swallows hard, knowing what she’s said and what I’m implying.
Her lips close and her face shifts from playful to somber.
I urge her, “Say it again.”
She stubbornly shakes her head.
I’m not letting this go. “Say it.”
“Drew, that’s only in the movies.”
Now I shake my head in response. “But it’s not, Gracie. Go ahead, say it.”
She inhales deeply. “True love conquers all the crap life hands us.” Her words are barely above a whisper and her eyes fall from mine to her lap.
“Look at me,” I tell her.
She lifts her head and pulls her lips between her teeth.
“Remember those words, Gracie. True love conquers all the crap life hands us.” I plan to use her own words as leverage against her when I need to, and she knows it.
Ten
I find Drew sitting at the office desk in the hotel suite, his face buried in his laptop. He once again insisted that I spend the night with him, and after we both unloaded some heavy personal information yesterday, I didn’t argue. I feel like we now have a better understanding of each other. He understands why my focus is on my career so that I can concentrate on paying down my debt, and I better understand his possessiveness and his need to want me nearby.
“Morning,” I say quietly behind him, doing my best not to startle him. He turns around quickly, the office chair spinning in my direction.
“Morning,” he says, a large smile spreading across his face.
“Busy?” I ask him, nodding toward the laptop.
“Not really. Just coordinating a few things,” he says, “and wanted to let you sleep without disturbing you.”
Twice now I’ve woken up and he hasn’t been in the bed. Selfishly, I hate waking up and not having him there. My days are limited with Drew and waking up without him next to me hurts a little.
“You don’t sleep much, do you?” I tighten the belt of the robe around my waist as he watches me intently.
“Some nights I don’t sleep much, other nights I do. Just depends what I have going on in my head,” he says matter-of-factly.
“Since I’ve been here, you haven’t slept much. I stress you out—"
He shakes his head. “Stop. You don’t stress me out.” His eyes fall from mine, trailing down my body, taking me in. The short silk robe that appeared in the closet, replacing the large, soft robe I used the other day had to be his doing. He stands quickly, taking three large steps across the suite to stand directly in front of me.
He reaches for me, his hands gently grasping my upper arms. Leaning down, he presses a soft kiss to my mouth before trailing his lips to my jaw, where he places another soft kiss before burying his face against the base of my throat. When he pulls away, both of his hands now cup my cheeks, and his possessive blue eyes hold my gaze.
“I need you, Gracie.” His thumb slides across my lower lip, those words holding so much meaning. Yesterday morning, I was prepared to run; today, I want to tell him I need him too. He backs me toward the large dining table until my bottom hits the edge, stopping us. His firm hands fall from my arms to cup my bottom, and he carefully lifts me, setting me on the edge of the table. Nudging my legs open, he slides his body into the vacant space, his hard length pressing against my bare core through his gym shorts.