“He promised me there would at least be plenty of alcohol,” Grey replied with the barest hint of a polite smile.
Cate laughed. “True. And they don’t skimp on the good stuff either. Be sure to ask Uncle Ian for a taste of his thirty-year-old McCallan. He won’t share his fifty-year-old Bowmore, but he’ll gladly pour you a glass of the McCallan.”
Grey seemed surprised Cate knew her whisky. He thanked her for the tip but then added, “Any tips on impressing him enough to encourage such generosity?”
Cate looked between the two of us with a twinkle in her eye. “Tell him what you love about his favorite godson. He’ll be putty in your hands.”
My face felt like it was on fire, and I tried tugging my hand out of Grey’s grip. He held on tight.
“Not sure Ian is ready for that conversation,” he murmured low enough only I could hear. Little hairs stood up all over my body.
When we got downstairs, Cate left us to find Binnie, and I pulled Grey in the direction of Ian’s study. The following meeting was awkward, but I explained things to my godfather the way Grey and I had planned. I told him about running into Grey in the spring and developing serious feelings for him. I explained my fears about the foundation as well as “other concerns” to do with the way my father was running York Capital. Even though Ian understood my fears about the future of York, he still seemed suspicious of Grey.
“What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here this week?” Ian asked Grey directly.
“While, of course, I’d like nothing more than to convince you to listen to my proposal about the property in Hell’s Kitchen, I’m here at Ellison’s request. He seems to think I lack the ability to relax and take time away from work. I’d like to prove to him I can enjoy our time together here away from the office and away from the never-ending list of responsibilities in the city.”
“So, am I to understand you will refrain from discussing work matters this week?” Ian asked.
“No, sir. It’s unrealistic to ask a workaholic to change overnight. I can’t possibly promise not to talk about the things that matter most…” He glanced at me with an unusual intensity. “Almost most to me.”
God, he was good at this fake boyfriend thing. I swallowed and tried to look convincingly at Ian. “He’s a good man, Ian. Give him a break.”
Grey continued as if I hadn’t said anything. “My dedication to work is part of my identity, as I’m sure you understand. I wouldn’t be the man Ellison… deserves if it weren’t for my rabid attention to my career. I would still be salting french fries in White Plains if I didn’t work this hard and want success enough to work my ass off for it.”
Ian studied the man for a few moments before nodding. “You’re probably right about that. You certainly wouldn’t have attracted his notice all the way out there. Ellison is a city boy through and through. My wife and I have bets placed on how long he’ll last out there in the wilds of Vermont.” He ended this little jab with a soft laugh. It might have actually been funny if it wasn’t a real fear of mine as well.
“Thank you for understanding,” Grey said. “I look forward to meeting your wife. Ells has had nothing but great things to say about her. He also tells me she’s the love of your life.”
Woah. No wonder this guy had people eating out of the palm of his hand in business. He knew exactly where to strike to get someone on his side. Ian’s eyes went soft, and his entire body relaxed.
“That she is. I don’t want anything to upset her this week. She looks forward to this event every year, and this year is no exception.” He gave Grey a reluctant smile. “You are welcome here, Grey. I expect to see you enjoying time away from work. There comes a point in every man’s life where he needs to take stock of why he works so hard. What’s it all for if not enjoying time off with friends and family?”
Even though Grey nodded, I wasn’t sure he actually understood or agreed. He didn’t seem like he was anywhere near that point in a man’s life. And that was fine. Maybe when he met the right man for him, someone who hadn’t accidentally fucked his plans up during college and who didn’t give him a hard time as often as possible simply because it was so much fun, he’d be ready to reassess what was important. In the meantime, both of us were actually here for work reasons.
I stood up and stretched, trying to put an end to this awkward meeting. “You said something about offering us drinks. Maybe we could take them and find your lovely bride?”
Thankfully, Ian agreed. We left the study and followed him to a glassed-in room at the side of the house, perfectly situated to watch the sunset over the edge of the large formal gardens. There was a bar set up with a uniformed bartender, and another uniformed server meandered through the room with canapés.
“You sure we shouldn’t have dressed up?” Grey murmured against the back of my ear.
I shuddered at the feel of his warm breath as my eyes took in familiar and unfamiliar faces in the room. “Very sure. One of the McArthur cousins is in ripped jeans and a graphic tee. We’re fine.”
Grey’s hand slid along my side to rest on my lower back again, asserting his claim by keeping me by his side. I didn’t mind it one bit.
We made our way to the bar to get a drink while Ian crossed the room to greet some newcomers.
“What would you like to drink… darling?” Grey said in his serious voice. I wanted to laugh out loud at his forced endearment, but I bit my tongue against the urge.
“Gin and tonic, please.”
He kept his arm around my waist as he ordered the same for both of us and waited for the bartender to make the drinks. I knew from the couple of business dinners I’d attended with him this past week, he would only allow himself one drink to avoid the risk of losing mental sharpness. He’d never admit such a thing to me, but I sensed he lived in fear of saying the wrong thing sometimes, and staying mostly sober was part of the way he held tightly to his control.
When a server walked by with some food, I grabbed a few pieces onto a napkin and offered one of them to Grey. Since the bartender had just handed him two lowball glasses, his hands were too full to take the little toast point covered in brie and jam.
“Open up,” I said softly before placing the snack on his tongue and feeding myself one immediately after. “God, that’s good. I was starving.”
“You’re always starving. Here.” He handed me one of the glasses, and we made our way over to a nearby group of people.
I recognized a few of the people in the group and greeted them with a smile. After introducing everyone to Grey, we had a rousing round of “where are you from and how do you know Ian and Binnie” that was thankfully supplemented by several passes of the cheese tray.
Grey was very quiet, but his reticence didn’t surprise me. He tended to listen more than he spoke anyway, especially when he was sizing up a prospective investment client or potential adversary. It didn’t take long, however, for Binnie to notice we’d joined the gathering.
“Get your ass over here and give me a proper hug hello.” I turned to see her sparkling eyes and catch a whiff of her familiar hairspray. She wore a sheer floral top over a spaghetti-strap tank and white capri pants. Gold bracelets jangled on her wrist, and the giant rock on her ring finger caught the warm light in the room.