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I’m glad of the cheery atmosphere. It will help put Tif and Sin at ease, as later... Well, I don’t expect to leave here without some shouting, maybe even a few threats and possibly some tears.
Not So Fast
Genesis
Aswewaitforthe guy’s grandfather to show up, guns blazing, Thomas and Royce talk in low urgent voices at one end of the room while Tif and I do the same at the other.
The space is the perfect place for a meeting. Two clusters of wing-backed chairs stand like sentries near the fireplaces and identical couches are in the center. They are over stuffed in a beige material with tiny fleur-de-lis in light cream thread. They look pretentious and loud, just right for the manly décor with its dark blue accents and paintings of ships on the walls.
As we talk, Tif and I decide that the best plan of attack is to let Royce and Thomas deal with their grandfather while we hang back.
However, we won’t be flies on the wall. Oh, no. We’ll step in if need be.
Tif and I agreed that for our men we’d go to the ends of the earth, slay any dragon, and ruin any soul if needed. Including that of Robert Grayson aka Gramps.
“How do you think it will go?” I ask Tif. The longer we wait, I can’t lie, the more anxious I get. I’m the only one that hasn’t met the man, and that puts me at a great disadvantage. I always like to plan my battles in advance, and from what Royce told me of his grandfather, I should have mapped out a strategy a long time ago.
Tiffany pats me on the arm. “I’m not sure. We could leave here in pieces for all I know. I just hope it gets started soon. I think I’m going to sleep for a week afterwards. Between my worry over Thomas...” She throws me an apologetic glance. “And these last few days...” here she gives me a coy smile. “I haven’t slept much.”
“Thomas is a great guy, Tif, and I know he loves you very much.”
“Oh, I know that.” She turns. We stand shoulder to shoulder, looking at our men.
“Royce loves you too, you know. He was a wreck those weeks you two were apart. Are you two good?”
I’m unsure how to answer.
I’ve forgiven Royce and I want to put those weeks we were apart behind me. I can’t just yet. Not until I see what happens next. If Royce gives in to his grandfather, I’m on the first flight back to Austin and he can Fedex my luggage back to me.
I open my mouth to reply to Tif’s question, snapping it closed when Robert Grayson a.k.a. Gramps enters the room like a tank, his deep voice booming out as loud as a cannon on a battlefield. “My boys have come to see me. What an honor this is.”
The time for Royce to ride or die is at hand.
My first impression of Royce’s grandfather is that he is a formidable man, like all Grayson men are. Their height and handsomeness goes a long way to make an impression, yet there is also something inherent in how they carry themselves. How they immediately take over the room without even trying.
Gramps, dressed in a well-cut tuxedo and shiny black shoes, is an impressive figure. His vibrant lilac tie, silk from the looks of it, catches my eye, and in a roundabout way, I’m reminded of Nat’s curls.
Nat had told me once that all shades of purple are the color of royalty. Well, Gramps certainly has a royal bearing. I bet when he goes into the office, people bow or curtsy. To what degree, depends on their station.
What will you do if he comes after you? My mind inquires.
Royce had said things might get ugly. So ugly that Gramps may threaten me as well as my parents. If he did so, just once, we were leaving, never to return.
I hope Gramps doesn’t. At least before I get the chance to shake his hand, looking him right in the eye as I do so. I want him to know that if he is going to ruin his grandson, he will have to go through me first.
Seems like Royce doesn’t mind the threat that has walked into the room, as he is the first to react.
“Gramps,” he says, inclining his head just enough to where his grandfather can make out his curt greeting.
Thomas is next. “Gramps, we would like to talk to you.”
“I bet you would, boy. I bet you would.” With a chuckle, and I can’t for the life of me tell if it is sinister or not, Gramps brushes past them and heads towards Tif and me.
The closer he gets; I have a hard time believing he is in his eighties. I bet the man still pulls women in. With hardly a wrinkle on his face, and his hair, thick and full, he exudes virility.
Will Royce be like that when we are old?
I catch my breath, realizing that I just placed Royce in my future. I’m still reeling when Gramps grabs my hand, shaking it like he is priming a well for water.
