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“I really don’t understand his reasons for staying, and now that he’s gone, I doubt either of us ever will.” G-mom gives me a small, pained smile. “I think your father probably made mistakes along the way, and how he dealt with your mother and Armstrong may have been his penance. What I know about Fredrick is that he was an honest and fair businessman, except when it came to your brother. Maybe he was trying to make up for his mistakes with you, but he allowed Armstrong to run free until he couldn’t ignore it anymore.”
“Well, that plan backfired, didn’t it? He’s left behind a hell of a mess to clean up.”
“I’m only beginning to see that now that I’m so immersed in the company.” She taps on the edge of the table. “Maybe I should postpone my trip. I don’t want to leave you with this whole mess to deal with on your own.”
I wave that idea away. “Don’t do that. I can handle things here. Besides, I’m not alone. Wren will be here, and Armstrong is terrified of her.” My grandmother has taken a trip every year on the anniversary of my grandfather’s death. She and a few of her friends, who are also widowers, go on a month-long cruise. It’s cathartic, and she deserves it now more than ever.
The server drops off our lunches, and my grandmother daintily cuts into her salmon filet while I take a huge bite of my burger. I hate to admit it, but I’ve missed good food like this.
My phone buzzes on the table, and I glance at the screen. “It’s Wren. I’m going to check the message in case it’s important.”
I don’t think I have a meeting until later this afternoon, at least not that I saw on my calendar. Although, I’m not the best at checking it. Normally I wait for Wren to message me about whatever I’m supposed to be doing next, which I realize is probably pretty assholey. She’s not my assistant; it shouldn’t be her job to tell me what my schedule for the day is.
Her message is brief and professional, informing me that my afternoon meetings have been rescheduled, so I’m not expected back at the office until tomorrow.
“Huh, that’s odd.”
“What is?” G-mom sits up straighter.
“Wren rescheduled all my afternoon meetings.”
“Oh. That was kind of her.” G-mom relaxes back into her chair.
“Why do you say that?”
“I’m sure she realized this morning was difficult for you, so she took it upon herself to give you the time you need to think through what to do next, instead of bombarding you with things that could obviously wait.”
“Oh. Yeah. That makes sense.” I fire a thank-you back and flip my phone facedown. While G-mom might be right, that Wren cancelled my afternoon meetings as a courtesy, I worry the almost-kiss from this morning is going to mess up the dynamic between us. I like her, and I like that she doesn’t feed me BS. I don’t want to screw with that by making things awkward.
“You and Wren are spending a lot of time together lately.” Her tone is conversational, but I know better.
“She doesn’t really have a choice, does she? She’s paid to handle me.” Which is very much the truth, but it’s been feeling a lot less like a working relationship and more like something else lately. Or maybe that’s just my perception. Still, today it seemed like she wanted me to kiss her. Or maybe I’ve been off the dating circuit so long, I don’t know how to tell when a woman wants to be kissed versus when she’s irritated with me.
“Well, it doesn’t seem like she’s minding her job very much these days. She’s a lot … happier working with you than she ever was with Armstrong.”
“That’s probably because I don’t throw temper tantrums.” Not big ones, anyway.
“Or maybe it’s because she likes you. When you’re not busy being pissed off, you’re actually quite pleasant to be around.”
“You’re family. You have to like me. It’s different,” I counter.
“I have to disagree with that. Your brother is an insufferable brat and your mother is trying on a good day. I tolerate them only because I have to. I spend time with you because you’re my favorite.” She winks and I grin, but I have to wonder how much I’m projecting and how much of the attraction between Wren and me is real, and what, if anything I should do about it.CHAPTER 10PLUS-ONEWRENMy father pulls me for a hug. “How’s my baby girl?”
I accept the affection and don’t balk at the baby-girl comment. I’ll always be his baby, and I’m very okay with that. When I was twelve, not so much, but now I’m grateful for his warmth and the nickname. “I’m good. How are you?”
“I’m well.” He holds me at arm’s length. “You look … happier than the last time I saw you.” He lowers his voice. “Are things okay over at the Moorehead circus?”
