After showering in the expansive guest bathroom, I perused a basket of complimentary bath products. It was clear Grey cared about money and luxury brand names. No generic cheese curls at the Price Chopper for him.
I didn’t blame him, but everything about this place screamed expensive and soulless. The view, the modern furnishings, the art, the plush silky bedding, and little details like the little flower-shaped bar of soap by the sink. All of it was calculated to impress. None of it showed his personality or his individual taste. Every stitch of clothing he’d worn the day before was bespoke, but he wore them like he didn’t care about them. The contrast between this man and the kid who’d taken care to treat a stain on his uniform shirt at the club when he’d accidentally brushed up against some grease on a golf cart was night and day.
It was a stark reminder that this Grey Blackwood wasn’t the kid I’d kind of known in college. He’d changed. Of course he had. We all had. But I wondered how long it had taken him to get used to having wealth and whether or not he worried about losing it all as quickly as he’d gained it.
I had to admit to myself I’d never really known the real Grey Blackwood. Yes, I’d had an enormous crush on him back in the day—something it had taken me a long time afterward to put the right words to—and yes, I had fantasies aplenty, but we had never shared a meal or gotten to know each other. I’d spent time with him on the golf course, but again, it hadn’t led to any kind of groundbreaking intimacies about hopes and dreams.
What I knew about Grey could fit in a tiny storage closet, literally and figuratively, but I was anxious to learn more. He’d always intrigued me. His ambition and drive had been legendary. But how had his rise to fame played out? I’d read as many articles about him as I could find in recent years, but he never really let any of the interviewers in. He talked of acquisitions and opportunities, exciting breakthroughs and upcoming tech. But he never talked about his past or told the story of his humble beginnings.
They would have loved it. The media would have eaten it up. But the real Grey was carefully hidden away.
Grey Blackwood was a mystery I wanted to solve. Maybe that was why I’d agreed so easily to working closely with him for two weeks. Well, that and the overwhelming lust I felt whenever he was in the vicinity.
Regardless, I planned to be agreeable and friendly. I knew I could never make up to him for not standing up all those years ago and telling the truth about how we’d been found in that position, but I vowed I wouldn’t cause him another moment of doubt or distress.
I owed him that much at least.
I shaved and dressed quickly, silently cursing having to wear a suit again so soon after I’d thought I was done with them for a while. When I finally made my way out to the kitchen, I was surprised to hear laughing.
Grey’s deep chuckle stopped me in my tracks.
“He threatened to book me onto a yacht and instruct the captain to sail anywhere without satellite reception,” he said. “As if Marcel would ever survive a vacation without internet himself. He thinks I’m bad, but he’s worse.”
A woman’s voice joined him in laughter. “Tell him we know the truth. He can’t be away from his Pornhub that long.”
“Do they have a Pornhub for designer shoes? I wasn’t aware.” Both of them laughed some more. I entered the room, hoping to get in on the fun, but the minute I stepped onto the hardwood floor with a soft thunk, Grey’s laughter stopped.
“Good morning,” I said with a cheery smile. “You two are awfully awake this early.”
Grey’s scowl had returned. “Ellison, this is my housekeeper, Jenny Mays. Jenny, Ellison York.”
Her eyes flared wide at my name, but she hid it quickly. “Nice to meet you. Coffee?”
I agreed and took a seat next to Grey at the high counter on the island, ignoring the way his body stiffened as I sat beside him. The kitchen was a gourmet playground with all the bells and whistles. I wondered if he ever entertained.
When Jenny handed me a mug with a set of cream and sugar containers, she asked what I’d like to eat.
“What is Grey having?”
“Egg white omelet with veggies and cheese.”
“That sounds good. Thanks.”
When she turned to continue chopping the vegetables on a cutting board, I glanced over and found Grey scrolling through his phone.
“Is there anything special you need me to know before this meeting?” I asked, trying like hell to focus on business, even though Grey looked deliciously half-asleep.
A pillowcase crease still ran up the side of his face, though it was clear from his damp hair and soapy smell he’d already showered and dressed for the day. His crisp white button-down was pristinely starched, but he hadn’t fastened the top button or put on his tie yet.
I’d wanted to know the real Grey Blackwood, but this much intimacy felt heady. Dangerous.
“Keep quiet unless asked a direct question,” he said without looking away from his phone. “Note any topics that make him especially reactive, but don’t be obvious about it.”
“What do you mean, reactive?”
He put down his phone and reached for his coffee to take a deep gulp before responding. “As much as we may wish otherwise, negotiations hinge on emotions. Everyone has weaknesses that can be exploited. The way to find them is to watch what topics make someone react emotionally. What does he care most about? What’s his greatest fear? What would cause him the most joy? Anything that elicits a strong reaction is most likely something we can figure out how to take advantage of when convincing him to go with us.” He glanced away. “I mean, me.”
I couldn’t decide if that sounded awful or smart. He wasn’t wrong. Of course we all had emotional buttons that could be pushed to elicit strong reactions. And taking advantage of people’s weaknesses was a well-known tactic in business. But it still rankled.
Grey, annoyingly perceptive as always, smirked a little. “Don’t make that face. Your father uses the exact same techniques, and you know it.”
“Actually, I don’t know,” I said honestly. “My father never had me involved in negotiations. My bleeding-heart tendencies were a liability.”
He grunted in disbelief, but I wasn’t sure which part he didn’t believe. “Well, none of that will matter today since you won’t be saying a word.”
I nodded. “Okay. Sounds good. Is there anything else you need me to arrange for you today before we get going?” I asked, pulling out my phone to take notes.
Grey eyed me suspiciously. I kind of loved that I’d surprised him with my offer. He clearly hadn’t been expecting my easy compliance. I grinned at him.
“Mpfh” was all he said before taking another sip of coffee.
Jenny spoke over his shoulder. “Beauty and the Beast. He’s a beast before the second cup. Then he’s a beauty.”
To my delight, a pink flush crept up Grey’s neck. “Silence, woman,” he grumbled. Jenny only laughed.
“Is that right?” I asked. “I didn’t know he had beauty in there at all. I assumed it was all beast.”
He grunted again and busied himself with his phone. “We have a meeting with Ian Duckworth at two. He’s the lone holdout on a real estate deal I’m trying to put together.”