“Mr. Blackwood doesn’t know how to work a phone. He apparently has ‘people’ for that. You don’t want to know what else he has people for.” I’d heard him task his real assistant with finding him some “tension relief” last night. The overheard phone call had made me grumpy as fuck—not because I begrudged him the sex he needed but because I was there and willing if he needed someone to use for that purpose.
Just the thought of it made me flush red-hot. I hadn’t hooked up with a man ever, present company excluded, but it wasn’t for lack of interest. The problem was, the only man I’d wanted to hook up with all those years was Grey. And he was the last man on earth who’d want to get with me.
Grey’s mouth opened in surprise, and a little firework of warm satisfaction went off in my gut. Yes, I know about your little dalliance last night.
His eyes narrowed at me, but I didn’t allow myself to look away. The air thickened between us.
“Cooking him breakfast,” I added, turning back to Lillian. “His housekeeper makes a mean omelet.”
While I’d intended to soften the blow of my initial words, it didn’t occur to me until after these were out of my mouth that I’d pretty much confessed to being at Grey’s place for breakfast. My face burned, and I suddenly had trouble drawing in enough air.
Grey cleared his throat and remained his usual calm, cool self. “Ellison helped me prepare for the Aldeen meeting early this morning. It went well. I expect to get legal involved in a formal offer this afternoon.”
I blinked to cover my surprise. I’d thought part of his purpose in having me as his gopher was the opportunity to smear my reputation. To let the whole world know that Warren York’s heir was staying at Grey’s apartment, debasing himself at Grey’s whim.
When would I stop underestimating this man?
Grey was right. The meeting with the creator of Smart Resin had gone very well. Ben Aldeen had taken one look at Grey Blackwood and practically purred through his drool. Clearly, the man was gay or bi, and when Grey had shot a full smile his way, Grey could have asked him to sign away his own mother and Ben probably would have done it.
But Grey had remained professional and respectful. He’d acted like nothing uncomfortable was happening at all, like Ben wasn’t fawning all over him and blushing wildly in his presence. I had to admit to having been impressed with how Grey had handled the man. He hadn’t taken advantage of Ben’s attraction. He’d been fair and honest with his offer of what York Capital could do to help Ben succeed.
And I’d gotten my first glimpse of how Grey had gotten to this level of wealth and success so rapidly. Nothing seemed to ruffle him. It was irksome, really. I wanted to see what he would look like ruffled, but I sure as hell didn’t plan on being the man to ruffle him.
We finished up the lunch with Lillian. She, too, had been impressed with Grey and had agreed to give him six more months at York to see if they worked well together. I wondered at his ability to schmooze everyone since he had a reputation in the industry as cold and heartless. Watching him subtly praise Lillian’s accomplishments without seeming to be deliberately flattering was like taking a master course in manipulation. That didn’t mean I thought he was trying to be deliberately manipulative, but the results were the same. Everything he did and said with her led to her decision to trust him and give him a chance.
I wouldn’t have expected it from a woman who’d been loyal to my father for twenty years.
When we left the restaurant, I asked why we weren’t sharing Lillian’s car back to the office.
“We’re going to visit with my attorneys.”
He didn’t explain further, leaving me to wonder if this was related to the takeover or about something else altogether. I walked beside him without saying anything and took the opportunity to enjoy the early September weather. The sun shone brightly on the streets while the shadowed sidewalks were noticeably cooler.
I was surprised when we didn’t enter one of the shiny corporate towers but instead made our way through a nondescript door almost hidden between a hotel and a café. A little brass plaque indicated this was the law office of Cage and Grant. I’d never heard of them.
We walked up a flight of stairs to a surprisingly clean and bright office space on the second floor. I realized the office was located above the cafe, and the faint smell of coffee permeated the room. The woman behind the reception desk lit up when she spotted Grey.
“How’d it go yesterday?” When I stepped out from behind Grey, the woman looked taken aback. “Oh, uh, hi.”
“It went smoothly, thank you. This is Ellison. He’s assisting me today. I was hoping to pick up a report Gabe put together for me on the Hell’s Kitchen property.”
“Of course. Let me tell him you’re here.”
Grey checked his watch and then slid his hands into his pockets. Within moments, a man around our age came out from a hallway behind the woman’s desk and greeted Grey with a big smile. “Hey, man, how’d it go yesterday?”
I couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed at the congratulatory tone of these people on the ruination of my family’s legacy or be secretly pleased to know how much the takeover had clearly mattered to the otherwise stoic man beside me.
“Shitty,” I said with a big smile before things could get even more awkward. “Thanks for asking.”
The man’s smile faltered. Before he had a chance to ask who I was, Grey intervened.
“Gabriel Grant, meet Ellison York of York Capital. Ellison, Gabe and his partner manage my legal work.”
The man studied me for a beat before tentatively reaching out a hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.”
I nodded and shook his hand. When Gabe turned to lead us back to his office, I turned to Grey. “All of your legal work? You don’t have your own team?”
“They are my team.”
“But…” I stopped talking to think about what I wanted to say. “I just assumed Blackwood had a legal department of its own.”
“This is Blackwood’s legal department,” he said, clearly trying not to lose his patience with me. “They have twelve attorneys and at least a hundred support staff. All of them serve Blackwood full-time.”
I glanced back at the understated decor in the tiny lobby. “Why don’t they work at your corporate office?”
“I don’t have a corporate office,” he said casually. “And stop asking questions. Remember we talked about you not speaking until spoken to? Let’s get back to that.”
It didn’t make any sense. Running an investment firm as large as Blackwood would require office space. An acquisitions department, Human Resources, legal specialists, investment analysts, and business development teams. He would need massive accounting support as well as tax experts. His holdings were significantly larger than my father’s, and York had hundreds of employees.
I stayed quiet while the man gave Grey what we’d come for. When we stepped back out onto the sidewalk, the crowd was just as thick as before. We hung a right and continued walking when Grey took a call from his assistant, Marcel. A block later, Grey stopped and pointed to a Starbucks. “Grab me a coffee.”
He went right back to talking to his “real” PA on the phone as if he hadn’t just bitten out a rude command. I wanted so badly to snap, “Make me, asshole.” But I refrained.