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An elderly woman with fluffy white hair and hunched shoulders walked up to them.
“Excuse me, young man, do you work here? I saw your shirt, and I need your help looking for a romance book.”
“Happy to help.” Finn nodded to Grant. “Be nice to my sister.”
Grant didn’t respond, merely watched as Finn offered the customer his arm and escorted her toward a group of floor-to-ceiling shelves near the back. Alexandra took advantage of his moment of distraction to take in the details she’d missed earlier: the threads of silver in his thick black hair; the slight shadowing of whiskers along his sculpted jaw; the confidence he’d grown into since she’d last seen him, no longer cocky but self-assured in who he was and what he had accomplished.
Her heart twisted and she wrenched her gaze away. Where would they be if she’d trusted him with the truth? If she hadn’t let her own fears overcome her love for him? If she’d stood up to her father?
That last thought sent a fresh wave of shame washing over her and she looked down at her replenished wineglass. Losing Grant had been the highest price she’d paid for her own weakness. But she’d let her father order her about for pretty much her whole life, from her clothes to her college degree. Even when she’d heard the first murmurings of something not being right at Waldsworth Investments, of dollars not adding up, she’d cowered before her father’s anger when she’d summoned enough nerve to confront him. And then she’d let it go until the police had arrested him at a company holiday party the Christmas after she’d broken things off with Grant.
Most days she felt like she’d paid her dues, living paycheck to paycheck, making donations to several charities she knew had supported her father’s victims, forgoing luxuries like dinner at a Michelin-starred restaurant.
Yet, on days like today, she wondered if she’d ever pay the price for the people she’d hurt.
Awareness danced across her skin. Steeling herself, she looked up and met Grant’s amber gaze. Her breath caught in her chest. Once he’d looked at her as if he couldn’t believe she was real, as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him. For a moment she thought she saw a flicker of that old heat.
But no, she must have imagined it, because the coldness in his eyes could have frozen fire.
“This doesn’t seem like your kind of place,” she finally said.
“Yours, either. And certainly not your stepbrother’s,” Grant replied as he sat in Finn’s vacant seat, his gaze roaming over the worn but colorful armchairs and sofas scattered among the towering bookshelves, then toward the back of the shop where two double glass doors led out to the little patio Finn had renovated for Amanda. Café lights lit up the wet paving stones. It was empty for now, but Finn would soon move the mismatched wrought-iron tables and chairs out of storage for the warmer seasons. Amanda and Alexandra would plant flowers, and the space would be transformed into an outdoor eating space and small venue for local musicians.
Definitely not the luxury shops and high-end restaurants she had frequented with David and his wives and girlfriends over the years. She could only imagine how many experiences she’d missed out on by falling in line with her father’s snobbery.
“How did you find me?”
“I went to your shop. It was closed, so my security firm looked up your home address. I saw you through the window when my limo pulled up.” He cast another dubious look toward the shelves where Finn had disappeared. “How did Finn come to own a bookstore?”
“His fiancée’s family owns it and she’s the manager. Finn helps out when he’s not teaching.”
“I never would have imagined Finley Waldsworth engaged to a retail manager. Or teaching,” Grant added dryly.
“It’s Finn Davids now. He went back to his birth father’s name. And he and Amanda are very happy.”
Grant watched her for a long moment.
“Are you happy, Alexandra?”
She covered her surprise by reaching for her wineglass, all too conscious of his opaque gaze focused squarely on her.
“I am,” she finally replied.
The cynical twist of his lips told her he saw right through her bold-faced lie.
“Disappointed with your new station in life?”
She frowned and set her glass down a little more forcefully than she intended, the wine nearly sloshing over the rim.
“Do you think I’m that big of a snob?”
“‘I would rather die than be seen in public with a gardener.’”
Her stomach dropped as the words she’d fired at him all those years ago hit her in the chest. She’d said terrible, cruel things as she’d watched her father out of the corner of her eye. The more pleased he’d looked, the nastier she’d become, hoping that she was putting on enough of the performance he wanted that he would leave Grant and his mother alone.
Whether David would have gone after Grant and his mother later out of sheer spite would never be known, as just four months later he’d been arrested.
“I was a different person back then.”
