The Grand Duel (The Grand Men #4)

Chapter 10

TEN

Charlie

“ O h, Charlie, what the hell? You’re not an asshole, and now she thinks you’re an asshole.”

I look down the hallway at my two best friends and hold out my arms wide whilst mouthing, “What the fuck.” As much as I love my best friends’ partners, I don’t want, nor need, my shit shared with them.

Apparently, they didn’t get that memo, and now I’m stood around the kitchen island with three women and a bottle of red wine.

“I literally told the mums on nursery pickup this week that you’re one of the most respectful men I know,” Nina adds. “We’re not going to find Mrs A if you start acting like a little bitch.”

“I’m not looking for Mrs A.”

“No, I know that.” She waves me off. “We are.” She leans forward, topping up everyone’s glasses but her own. “I think the fact you even want to talk to us about this Lissie girl is a huge development. You’ve never shared your club conquests with us before.”

“I never shared this with you either,” I point out.

She waves me off again, rubbing her other hand over her swollen stomach. “Your friends have the emotional intelligence of a sponge. You need us, and you know it.”

I shake my head, taking a drink from my glass.

We met the girls on a night out around four years ago. Nina, a dance teacher, ended up going home with Mason for the night, and it’s his child and wedding band she’s now bearing. Lucy, a fashion designer who’s not long returned from an internship in New York, is engaged to Elliot, the two of them being a much slower burn compared to the others. Scarlet, a junior doctor and one of the best people I know, is Mason’s sister. The love of her life is currently in a prison cell and refusing visitation.

There’s also Megs, but like Lance, she’s absent for now, too busy chasing her dreams on the sidelines of a rugby field.

I look up from my glass and find the girls waiting, all watching me. I clear my throat. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Lucy smiles around her glass at me, tilting her head to the side. “You seem stressed out, that’s all. Riled up. Affected.”

“Not like you to get your knickers in a twist over a girl,” Nina agrees.

“Exactly,” Lucy continues. “Tell us how we can make it better. Let us help you. You met her at the club, yes? And she turned up at your office for a job days later. I can imagine you both need to adjust to that. Like, you’ve seen each other naked.”

I scrub at my face. I should be doing this with my actual therapist, not these clowns. “Not quite,” I correct.

“What does that mean?” Scarlet asks, her interest piqued.

“Well, she was blindfolded.” I look around at them, their frowns all one and the same. “She doesn’t…she doesn’t actually know we had sex.”

Why am I sharing this with them?

I’m going to kill Elliot and Mase.

“Wait,” Scarlet stutters out. “You didn’t tell her when you saw her again?”

“Oh my god, she doesn’t know it was you?” Nina’s eyes are wide.

“It didn’t exactly come up,” I defend. “And it’s not something I’m even allowed to discuss with her. Especially at work. It would be unethical.”

“It wasn’t unethical when you had her?—”

“Enough.” I cut Nina off. “You need to touch grass. The lot of you.”

I go to walk away, but Lucy grabs my arm. “Charles, wait, wait. Ignore Nina. What is it that bothers you the most about the whole situation? Is it the fact she doesn’t know it was you, or is she actually a difficult person to be around?”

I think on it. “Both.” She’s fucking beautiful for starters, and that drives me crazy. “I barely spoke to her today out of fear she’d recognise my voice and know it was me.”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of,” Nina tells me, her eyes narrowing, almost protective. “By going to the club, I mean.”

“I know. I’m not ashamed.”

“She was there too,” Scarlet says.

“I know.” And I wouldn’t admit it to them, but I don’t know why that fact bothers me so much.

Is she working tonight? Is she with other men right now?

“She won’t remember your voice. We’re simple creatures. The second Mase goes down on me I barely remember the man’s name.”

“I do not need to know this,” Scarlet deadpans at the mention of her brother.

“It’s true, though,” Lucy agrees. “You said it was her first night. The poor girl was probably too in her own head to even come.”

“Did she not come?” Nina looks horrified, but then her eyes drop to my mouth, my neck, chest, hands. “No, of course she came.”

Bewildered, I walk around the kitchen island. “This conversation is over.”

“Charles!” they call to my back.

I arrive home by eleven o’clock.

After having my ass handed to me and then playing three games of Jenga with Ellis, Nina and Mason’s three-year-old son, I was ready to turn in.

My head is officially fucked. Not because she means something. She absolutely doesn’t. But she’s right there, in my space and under my skin.

I need her gone.

If she hadn’t been wearing that stupid blindfold in the club, I’d have seen her face. She’d have seen mine. We’d have had an actual conversation out in the club before I requested we go to the room, and none of this would be happening.

I sigh, knowing it’s not her fault.

I changed the rules.

Bent them—and for what?

I scrub at my face, rubbing my tired eyes. A soft muzzle knocks at my forearm and then my wrist. Dragging my hands away, I peep down at Daisy at my feet.

“Hey, pup.”

Her tail starts, and I motion for her to jump up onto the sofa next to me.

“I was a dick today, Dais.” I pull her in close, rubbing her chest.

A complete dick.

Lissie doesn’t deserve to be ignored the way she was in the car. She avoided me for the rest of the day, and it irked me. Which is pretty backwards when it’s exactly what I wanted.

Nina, Luce, and Scar think I should tell her it was me.

I can’t help but think it’s terrible advice.

Right now, it’s awkward for one person. Me. Why tell Lissie and make her feel uncomfortable?

I sit and stew on it for over an hour, going back and forth over the fact it’s better for Lissie this way, our working relationship, and that I shouldn’t tell her.

But then there’s the other fact. That morally, it’s wrong to keep it from her.

I can’t help but think about the girls—my younger sister, too—if it was any one of the women in my life in Lissie’s shoes, I’d skin the bastard who lied to them alive.

She was in a vulnerable situation that night, thinking she was safe with the anonymity the club and blindfold gave her.

Only she wasn’t.

I don’t fucking want to tell her. It’ll bruise my pride and leave me wide open for her to get a good look at the parts of my life I rarely share with anyone. Questions I don’t want to answer.

I scrub at my face.

But that would make me a version of myself I’d not like very much.

“I have to tell her, Dais.”

Lissie

I found a flat. It’s small. One bedroom, one bathroom, with a compelling little living space I can relax in with a nice bottle of wine after a long day.

The price is extortionate being so central in the city, but so is everything in life right now.

The owner listed the property yesterday morning, and it was Jovie who sent the information to me. I managed to get a viewing before my shift at The Nightingale last night (even though I had to beg Dan to let me work the bar regardless of my very slight sniffly nose), and I’ll be able to move in tonight.

The idea of having my own space puts a spring in my step, and I leave the hotel feeling proud and a whole lot better than when I left the office yesterday.

I don’t tend to let myself get too comfortable or reliant on any situation, but I feel like things are genuinely settling down. If I can keep up with both jobs, support Jove and Willow, and keep a hold of the new flat for longer than six months, I’ll have not only turned everything around for all three of us, but I’ll have made a statement to my parents, too.

I’ve just got to find a way to put up with my new boss.

I ended up falling asleep quickly when I got in last night, but Edna insisted I start late on the mornings after a shift. So here I am, feeling fresh as a daisy at ten thirty on a Wednesday morning, stood at the curb searching for my lift, pretending I’m not riddled with anxiety over the fact Mr Aldridge could ignore me for the entire day again.

I spot the sleek black Land Rover weaving its way through traffic and step off the pavement, slipping between waiting cars to meet them.

I wave at Scott in the driver’s seat and quickly slip into the back of the car. Mr Aldridge is already inside and ready for the day. His deep blue business suit sharp.

“Good morning,” I say with a smile.

He gives me a little nod, which I take as a small win before averting my eyes.

“Thank you, Miss Elton,” Scott says, nodding at me in the rearview mirror. “It wasn’t likely anyone would have let me back out again this morning.”

I pull off my coat and sit back in the seat. “The traffic is terrible, isn’t it,” I tell him. “It’s why I live and breathe the tube. And it’s Lissie. Just Lissie, please.”

He smiles at me.

The feel of eyes burning into me has my gaze falling on the heavy presence at my side, only when I turn, he’s looking out of the window.

I watch him, the stubble on his jaw new and something I think he should sport every day. “Did Edna pass on my notes from yesterday, Mr Aldridge?”

He glances at me quickly before looking away, his brows rising in surprise. Did he expect me to ignore him today, too? Is that what he wants?

“She did.” He clears his throat. “Thank you, Miss Elton.”

“It’s just Lissie,” I repeat, the knot in my gut loosening. “And you’re welcome.” I smile.

He hands me a sheet of paper, his eyes still not meeting mine.

I lean in to take it. “What’s this?”

“It’s the case notes for tomorrow’s…”

He continues talking, but I have no idea what he’s saying because that smell. Him .

It’s rich, clean…familiar.

I shake it off.

“That’s great,” I tell him, taking the file and flipping the folder open. “Oh.” I look up quickly. “Not that’s great he’s facing a life sentence for killing his mum. That’s great as in…” I hold up the file. “Thanks.”

“I know what you meant.”

“Well, that is great,” I tell him, a bit goofy and wanting to die.

He watches me for a second, as if he’s repulsed, and then reaches for his laptop, pulling it out of his bag and onto his lap.

“I can see why the car is necessary now.” I roll my eyes, wishing someone would sew my lips shut.

He doesn’t look up, reaching forward to take a sip out of his travel cup before answering. “And why’s that?”

God, he might actually hate me at this point.

I’m too much.

I swallow, letting my eyes drift closed as I shake my head. “Just that you work on the road,” I say in explanation.

After a few minutes, I pull out my own laptop and check my emails, mimicking him to keep myself busy.

I open my inbox. Refresh it. Nothing.

I look over at him and find him typing away.

How many hours will I be trapped in this car with him as we travel to and from the office and headquarters?

Will it all be in silence?

Who even needs two office spaces?

With nothing to do, I pull up my personal email account. At the very top of my inbox is an email from Jovie.

I already know it will be something ridiculous before I even open it, else she would’ve texted it to me.

Fifty percent off this one at the minute Lis!

I sigh at the name and link to the familiar dating site and click reply.

I DO NOT HAVE TIME FOR THIS!!!

Thank you so much, love you, bye.

It’s ironic she pushes me finding a man down my throat so hard when she’s the one in a foreign country and single.

I don’t need a man right now, no matter how lonely she claims I am.

I look up and over at Mr Aldridge, curiosity and the thick silence getting the better of me once again. “Do you have a wife, Mr Aldridge?”

His eyes snap up, his face pensive. “No.”

He doesn’t have a wife? “A girlfriend?”

His eyes drop to my lips. “Why?”

Oh god, does he think I’m interested? My cheeks flame beneath my makeup. “I saw the pictures in your office with the kids and thought?—”

“Not my kids.”

“Oh, sorry.”

This beautiful man doesn’t have a family?

I catch his eyes again, and he narrows them, as if he can hear my thoughts.

I roll my lips. “So…you don’t have a special someone?”

“Do you?”

My heart jars. Lissie, you tit. I shake my head. “That was rude. I’m sorry…again.” I curse myself for bringing up something so personal. I know better, but I’m so nervous and off kilter by his silent treatment all the time.

Am I supposed to sit here in silence?

At what point do I learn anything?

Progress in my job role?

I’m supposed to be helping him find a balance.

I blow out a breath, knowing I need to patch up the conversation. “The dogs are adorable.” I somehow go off on a tangent again and feel myself instantly start snowballing. “I wanted a dog as a child, but my parents never let us. Us as in my sister and me. She’s younger.” A warm smile steals the professional facade I was trying for. “Her name is Jovie, and she lives?—”

He chokes, spluttering as coffee spurts out in every direction.

“Shit. Are you okay?” I reach for the pack of tissues I have in my open bag and hand him one. When he doesn’t notice it right away, I start to carefully blot at his suit jacket.

“I’m fine…” He clears his throat and knocks my hand away, making me flinch. “I said I’m fine,” he snaps.

I watch him try to clean himself and his laptop off, wondering what just happened.

Edna told me what a wonderful man he is, and yet I’m still waiting to see it. I can’t help but wonder what makes a man so closed off and short-tempered.

Is it his workload?

It’s why Edna employed me.

“Have you had a driver for long?”

He rights himself in the seat, smoothing out his tie. “Since yesterday.”

My eyes drift to Scott. Yesterday? “Scott and I started on the same day?”

“Edna worries,” he says, sounding bored, as he continues with whatever he was working on.

I tip my chin up, my tongue running over the front of my teeth in agitation.

What the actual hell?

He spoke to Scott with nothing but respect all day yesterday. He looked into the man’s eyes on countless occasions to thank him for opening doors or dropping us off.

I thought it was because I was new. That he would warm to me like he has Edna and Scott.

But no. Scott started yesterday.

So why did I get the cold shoulder?

Why am I still getting the cold shoulder?

I’m going to quit.

I have to quit this job.

Fuck the workload, he’s just a dick.

Or he just hates women.

My eyes burn, and before I can rein my emotions in, I say, “I’m sorry, Mr Aldridge, but have I done something wrong? Something to have made you angry at me?”

He stops typing and looks over at me. “I’m not angry, Miss Elton.”

“It’s Lissie,” I tell him again, my anger getting the better of me. I roll my lips and look anywhere but at him.

We sit in thick, awkward silence. Mostly because I refuse to converse with someone who can be so horrid.

From the way he looked at me in his office yesterday morning to ignoring me ever since. He’s been cold. A robot that blinks.

I tried.

I’ve tried multiple times.

I wonder if I had a penis, he’d treat me differently.

I think you’re a dickhead.

I think you’re a dickhead.

I think you’re a dickhead.

“Lissie.” I hold my breath as he leans in a little, my name from his lips, whispered like that… “Look, I know you think I’m a complete ass?—”

“That wasn’t what I was thinking at all,” I say, meeting his stare and holding it.

He has beautiful eyes, blue like the deepest sea but bright like the clearest sky.

They drop to my lips, just for a flash, and then revert like pins to my own. “I’m sure it’s not far wrong, though,” he murmurs.

I give him an upside-down smile because I absolutely agree, and I can’t help it, but he misses it, quickly eyeing the front of the car.

“If you can spare me a few minutes at the end of the day, there is a matter I need to discuss with you.”

“What matter?” I frown.

I’m being unprofessional, but he’s maddening, and the damage is already done.

His eyes come back to me and hold. “At the end of the day.”

He rights himself in the seat, straightening his laptop.

At the end of the day? “I don’t like surprises.”

He starts typing again, and it infuriates me.

“If you could give me something now. Anything.”

Is he going to fire me?

“I’m not angry, Lissie,” he promises. “We have a meeting with a client in a moment. Could you maybe do your job and focus on that?”

I shake my head at the man, wondering what I could have possibly done to make him dislike me so much.

I’ve avoided that feeling my whole life, not being enough, and yet this man has managed to make me feel like a piece of crap after a day of knowing him.

“The case?” I ask. “What do I need to know?”

“A little girl, eight, whose father is claiming full parental custody.”

I frown.

“Could you ensure everyone who needs to be present is, and then take notes of anything you feel is useless information.”

“Useless information?”

Why useless information?

“She shouldn’t be with her mother?” I can’t help but ask the question.

“The father has enough evidence of child neglect to warrant a case against her.”

My heart sails through my chest, all the way down.

The day has barely begun, and it already needs to end.