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Grant smiled. “I know. We just have to figure out what great looks like and then make a plan to get there.”
Chapter Seven
When she got home, Chelsea let herself into the cottage and sank down on the sofa. She still wasn’t sure what to make of the day’s events—any of them. Her mind strayed back to this morning. She’d been so tense, so focused on going into battle with this consultant her dad was bringing in, and then Grant had walked through the door. She blew out a sigh and kicked her shoes off. Grant Dawson. At least she knew his last name now. Even in her shock and confusion, she’d been hit by just how attractive he was. No! She wasn’t going to allow herself to think of him as attractive. Never again. She needed to see him as something other than a guy she’d slept with—and wanted to sleep with again. She pressed her lips together. She did not want to sleep with him again! Maybe, if she’d bumped into him again, it might have been a possibility. Hell, who was she kidding. She’d been hoping that she’d bump into him again and that they might. But not now. Now she had to work with him for the next few months. You didn’t get involved with people you worked with. It just wasn’t worth it.
She took her jacket off and lay back against the cushions. No, she needed to stop thinking about him that way and start thinking about how to make the most of his presence. He really wasn’t the big bad wolf she’d been expecting. He understood what was going on with Zosca. He knew she was more interested in her people and her wines than her profits. He’d even said he got it. After her meeting with her dad this morning, Grant wasn’t going to ride roughshod over everything and implement his changes, he was only going to document what changes he thought would benefit the bottom line. She shrugged. She wasn’t in total denial about the bottom line. It could be better. Even running the business the way she was, she knew she wasn’t the most organized or efficient manager on earth. She knew that money could be saved just by doing things in a more organized fashion—if she could ever find the time and brain space. Now she wouldn’t need to. Grant could figure it all out. She smiled. She had faith that he would be very good at his job. He was just that kind of guy.
Her cell phone rang and brought her back to the moment. She picked it up and smiled when she saw Piper’s name on the display.
“Hey,” she answered.
“Hi, sweetie. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I hope it went better than you expected?”
“It certainly wasn’t what I expected. In some ways, it was better, in some ways worse.”
“Do you want to have dinner and tell me all about it? Say no, if you want. I understand if you just want to hole up after a bad day. I’m going to take myself to Molly’s for dinner. Cam’s prepping for a big meeting tomorrow.”
“I’d love to. I was only going to sit around here and mull it all over.”
“Oh, no, don’t do that. Meet me at Molly’s, and we can either talk about it or talk about something else completely to distract you.”
“Thanks, Piper. You’re the best. What time?”
“Does seven-thirty work for you?”
“Yep, that’ll be great. I’ll see you there.”
After they’d hung up, Chelsea took a shower then wandered into her closet. What mood was she in tonight? Who was she being? She touched the white frilly dress. No, there was no fairy godmother coming to rescue her. She settled on a pair of jeans and a cute shirt. She was just a girl, going to have dinner with a friend—a girl with some big issues ahead of her, but she was going to face them in a down-to-earth kind of way.
She found a space not far from Molly’s and parked the car. It was another beautiful evening, and she breathed in deeply as she walked down the street.
“Chelsea!”
She turned at the sound of her name being called. It was Mary Ellen, hurrying toward her. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me joining you? I called Piper just after she’d spoken to you; she invited me along.”
“Of course, I don’t. I was going to call you when I got home.”
Mary Ellen nodded. “I figured you’d want to compare notes after today.”
Chelsea blew out a sigh. “Yeah. I need to. Come on, though, let’s go in and wait for Piper. I need to fill her in on what happened Saturday night before we get to today.”
Mary Ellen smirked. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to tell her.”
“Yeah. I didn’t say anything to her and Cameron yesterday—I wouldn’t normally brag to my brother and almost sister-in-law about spending the night with a guy, but the way things have turned out, I have to at least tell Piper.”
Mary Ellen held the door open, and they went inside. “What about Cam, though?” she asked. “Might it make things awkward if Grant’s going to be working with us?”
Chelsea shrugged. “Possibly, but I don’t hide anything from Cam, and I’m not about to start now. It’s not as though he never slept with a consultant or two before he met Piper, is it?”
“No. It isn’t. I love that the two of you are so close.”
“Me too,” said Chelsea with a smile. “Oh, look. Piper’s here already.”
They made their way to a corner table where Piper was sitting tapping away at her phone. She looked up and smiled, but answered a couple more texts before she spoke. “Hey, ladies. Sorry, that was Laura. She’s keeping an eye on the Summer Lake house for us.”
“How are they?” asked Chelsea. Laura was Piper’s best friend, and she was married to Chelsea’s older brother, Cole—or Smoke, as they called him.
Piper nodded. “They’re good. Laura’s going to London this weekend and Smoke’s flying the guys down to San Diego, so she wanted to let me know that another friend, Missy, will be checking on the house for me.”
