“There is,” he agrees. “But when we go back, the press won’t be gone. This Ri situation won’t be gone. Are you sure that you’re ready for that?”
“I have a deep need to be past this. I want to ride this storm and get past it. And your staff needs to see you. They need to know Ri and his attacks on your firm have no impact.”
He skims fingers through my damp hair. “You’re sure?”
“I am,” I say, but again, I’m cautious not to make this just about me. “What do you want, though?”
“You. All I want is you, safe, and happy.”
“You have me, safe, and happy. So, we go back?”
“Yes,” he agrees. “We go back.”
I kiss him and smile. “Good. I can show off my ring.”
This earns me his smile and I watch the tension in his shoulders slide away. I’ve made him happy. And that is what I want.
CHAPTER THREE
Mia
Grayson and I sit at the island facing each other, sipping our coffee and talking about his father, with shared smiles and laughter between us. It’s a magical moment in time that has successfully crushed those demons that he’d been battling upon my entry into the kitchen, and left me with the man I love. The man who cares about people. The man who is filthy rich and never acts as if he deserves it. The man who would die, and literally kill for me, and yet, I’d dared doubt him. I do not believe I will ever forgive myself for slighting our love in such a way. I’m fighting the need to ask him if he’s sure he will when his cellphone buzzes with a text message.
His expression doesn’t change, but I don’t miss the subtle tensing of his jaw, and that’s before he even he reads the message. A sign that he’s expecting bullets to fly, that perhaps he doesn’t think this Ri thing is over. Reluctantly it seems, he picks up his phone, reads the message, types a reply, and sets it back down.
“Blake, and his team at Walker, want to update us on the Ri investigation at his office and talk through a full security plan until this mess completely passes.” He glances at his watch and then me. “It’s ten now. He’s sending an escort to take us to the airport at one.”
I study the handsome lines of his face. “What else?”
“Nothing else.”
“You’re turned off. I saw it happen.”
He catches my hand and kisses it. “It’s going to be a week or two before we find our sweet spot back home. You know that, right?”
“You mean because of Ri and the press?” I clarify, just to be sure I know where his head is right now.
“Yes. Because of Ri and the press. You say you’re okay, Mia, but there’s no way you can be unaffected by what happened with Ri in that stairwell. Blake suggested you talk to a counselor.”
“I don’t need to see a counselor,” I say, dismissing the idea quite emphatically. “I’m fine. Stop worrying.” My coffee is gone, so I drink his. “But I do think we should talk about that case I’m bringing over with me. The Wittmore case.”
“How can I forget Mitch Wittmore, the billionaire tech genius, being killed by his wife?”
“In self-defense,” I remind him.
“I remember the details. She was a battered wife.”
“Yes and I believe her. When you see the file, you will as well.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“We’re trying to get rid of the press. He was Mitch Wittmore. This case will bring more press, not less.”
“Months from now,” he says. “And we as a firm are used to that kind of press.”
“If I’m to be your wife—”
“If?” he challenges.
“Because I’m to be your wife,” I amend, “my cases will bring a different kind of attention to you, Grayson. You’re a billionaire who runs a massive operation that stretches well beyond the law firm and its many offices. You have a hotel brand. Maybe even a stake in a professional football team in the near future. The interest in my cases will come with a different level of scrutiny.”
He stands up and grabs the coffee pot, refilling both of our cups and then settling the hazelnut creamer we’re both using between us. “And that means what to you?”
I grab the creamer and pour it into our cups. “What does it mean to you? Are you up to dealing with that?”
“You believe in this. We’re fighting for what’s right. Why wouldn’t I be?”
I slide off the seat and step between his legs, my hands on his thighs. “I really love you, so very much.”
“I really love you, too. Talk to me about the case. Why haven’t they offered her a plea?”
“The ADA involved is a real asshole.”
“Name?”
“Nick Reynolds.”
He picks up the phone, sends a text, and then sets it down. “I asked Blake to find out what he can about him. I’ll be interested to find out if he was involved in that dirt dive Ri had the DA doing on my me and my businesses.”
“But this case was with Ri’s firm with me there until this week.”
“I know. It’s a long shot, but it’s worth looking into. Maybe we should work this case together. I’ll be the second chair.”
“You? Second chair. Grayson, you’re the CEO of an empire.”
“And a criminal attorney, in case you forgot. Sometimes getting back to the basics reminds us about who we really are and want to be.”
“You are a brilliant man with the world at his fingertips. This is beneath you.”
“No. Helping someone who needs help will never be beneath me, and if it were, you know my father would turn over in his grave. But if this is about your independence—”
“No. Not at all. I would like to have you help me with the case prep, but if the press know you’re a part of this, the news will explode. And if we lose, you’ll look bad.”
“Then let’s not lose.”
“I’m handling my case,” I say, “but I have a proposition for you.”
His perfect eyes twinkle with mischief. “You have my undivided attention.”
I always do, I think. No matter what deal or project is consuming him, Grayson always makes me feel like he’s one hundred percent present. “You wanted me to consider working more closely with you and the corporate side of Bennett so that we can travel and work together.”
“And?”
“And what if I handle this case and then step back from a formal caseload? You’ve already approved me hiring Kevin, my old boss at Ri’s firm. Now that Ri is gone, we legally brought over my business. Kevin can take over the rest of my caseload, or whoever you feel is appropriate. I’d love to look at the charity operation. You’re not as active in charitable activity as you should be. I can have an impact. I know I can. I want to contribute.”
“What happened to needing your own career and identity?”
“I don’t know why this can’t be that, too. And as far as needing to completely free myself of your coattails, I think we’ve been there, done that. I’m done feeling like I have something to prove because you’re more experienced and filthy rich. And I don’t care if people think I slept my way to the top anymore. I think my insecurity over those things allowed Ri to break us up. I won’t make that mistake again.”