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“No, thanks. I should go.” She rolled out of bed and scooped up her clothes from the floor. The bathroom door clicked shut behind her before he had a chance to argue. When she came out, he went to her, hoping to persuade her to at least stay a while.
She put a finger to his lips with a sad smile. “Thank you. You’re a good man. You were what I needed. I hope I was something that you needed too.”
“You were, but I’d like …”
She shook her head and came closer. Standing on tiptoe, she reached up and kissed his cheek. “I would too, but I think the only real option is goodbye. Take care, Grant; be happy.” She turned around and left. He stood staring at the door for a few long moments before he shook his head and chuckled. How many women had he done that to? How could he complain when a woman did it to him? She was right. For all he may have gotten carried away in the moment, he wasn’t here to spend time with a woman. He was here to work, and he should get down to it. Mr. Hamilton had given him access to Zosca’s books, and he should spend the day looking into them. He needed to put Chelsea out of his head—or at least assign her a proper place in his memory banks. He should file her under, what? The wordsbest night of my lifesurprised the hell out of him. Yep, it was better that she’d left. He didn’t need to be thinking stupid shit like that!
Chapter Four
Chelsea poured herself a fresh coffee and took it outside to sit on the patio. She couldn’t settle for anything. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. She’d come home, taken a shower, cleaned the cottage, done laundry and dishes, and now she didn’t know what else to do with herself. She was going to call Mary Ellen, but she didn’t want to do it yet. Sometimes Mary Ellen slept late, and she didn’t want to wake her. She shook her head and took a sip of her coffee. That wasn’t the reason she hadn’t called. She hadn’t called because Mary Ellen would want to know every last detail about last night. She smiled. She wouldn’t mind telling her—not about last night—but she didn’t want to tell her about this morning. She didn’t want to tell her that Grant had wanted more than just one night, and she’d said no. Mary Ellen would tell her she was nuts. Maybe she wouldn’t. Maybe it was she who thought she was nuts. Why had she turned him down? He was going to be in town for a while. He was a great guy, and there was no denying they had chemistry. Why had she said no? Why did it have to be goodbye? She shrugged. She didn’t know. She didn’t need to know either. She’d made the decision. Goodbye had been said, and that was it. It wasn’t like she could call him and say she’d changed her mind. No numbers had been exchanged. They didn’t even know each other’s last name. She should lock him away as a sweet memory and leave it at that.
She picked up her cell phone with a rueful smile. She should report in with Mary Ellen and let her know that she was still alive. She dialed the number and waited.
“Morning! I’ve been wondering how you were doing. I didn’t know if you’d still be with him or what.”
“No. I’m home.”
“And did you have a good time?”
She chuckled. “Several very good times indeed, thank you.”
“I knew it! You could just tell he was the kind of guy who’d know what to do with it.”
Chelsea laughed. “Oh, he knew all right.”
“What a shame he’s only passing through.”
Chelsea made a face. “Actually, it turns out he’s not. He’s going to be in town for a while.”
“Awesome! Are you going to see him again then?”
“No.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. He asked, but I said no.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I like him. He’s a good guy, and he definitely knows what to do with it, but I’ve got enough on my plate at the moment. I think I need to focus on Zosca. I told you Dad’s set up a meeting for nine tomorrow morning with some consultant who he’s bringing in tohelpme.”
“Yeah, exactly. I’d have thought you might want a nice distraction outside of work if work’s going to be rough for a while.”
“No, I need to focus. I need to figure out how I can turn things around in my own way and prove that I don’t need any help.”
Mary Ellen was quiet.
“What?”
“Nothing. I never said a word.”
“I know. That’s not like you. What aren’t you saying?”
“It’s not my place, Chels. You know that. I’m in a difficult position here.”
“I know, sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” Mary Ellen worked for Hamilton-Groves. She was Chelsea’s brother, Cameron’s, assistant and right-hand woman. Although Zosca was nominally a separate business, they all knew that it still fell under the umbrella of the Hamilton-Groves Corporation. Mary Ellen’s silence made her uneasy. If her father and Cameron had plans to take Zosca away from her, Mary Ellen would know about it. “I’m going to make it work,” she insisted.
“I hope so. I really do. You’re not like the rest of the company. You and your label need to be out on your own. I hope this consultant sees that and doesn’t mess things up for you.”
