The Grand Duel (The Grand Men #4)

Chapter 21

TWENTY-ONE

Lissie

T he dress I picked out is Prada. Black. Full length with short, off-the-shoulder sleeves and a sweetheart neckline that leaves little to the imagination with the way the fabric moulds to my breasts.

It’s a dress my mother would love and likely hang in my wardrobe.

It’s a dress I’d hang in my wardrobe if I could afford it.

I smooth my hands over my stomach and pull open the door to my room, finding the early evening sun blazing in through the open balcony doors.

I place my new matching bag on the table and go in search of my boss.

I spot his leg hanging half off the lounger and head for the folding doors.

His voice finds me before I catch a look at his face, and I’m thankful for it because not for the first time this month, I’m caught off guard by the man’s ability to wear a suit. Or in this evening’s case, tuxedo.

He has his phone held to his ear, lying back with his legs spread out on either side of the lounger. He looks comfortable. At ease. Fucking hot.

And then his eyes find me. And like his voice, they catch me off guard.

They make me feel like an oddity. Like nothing he’s seen before. They make me feel?—

He shakes his head, making my thoughts trail off.

“Scar, I’ll call you back.” Those eyes don’t leave me as he drops the phone to the lounger and flicks his head at me to come sit.

Cautiously, I walk across the balcony and lower myself to the lounger he’s sitting on, putting us close enough that I get consumed by the incredible smell of him, but somehow still not close enough.

That thought would be weird, but with the way his eyes stay fixed on me long after sitting down, the way his knee bounces at our side, wanting to be a little bit closer doesn’t seem that weird at all.

Eventually, just as the red creeping up my neck threatens to flourish over my cheeks, and I’m swallowing around the thick knot in my throat, he leans down and picks up an open bottle of champagne, pouring us both a glass and handing me a flute.

I wait along with the buzz binding us to the moment, watching his tongue peek out as he opens his mouth, but then he closes it again. As if he thinks better of whatever he’s about to say.

I smile.

A nervous smile.

One he doesn’t reciprocate.

But then?—

“Beautiful,” he says, stare lost somewhere it doesn’t belong.

Somewhere no one has ever bothered to look.

I dip my head as my blush fully sets my body on fire. No amount of makeup could hide this level of heat.

He sits back a little, giving me space as he lifts his glass. “Seems you’ve rendered me stupid this evening, Miss Lissie. Anything you’d like to toast?”

I lift my eyes only, twisting my lips.

So forward. He’s been warming to me more and more as the days pass. I’m starting to wonder whether all the bad bits I once saw in him were just poor judgement or a guard he put up to keep me away.

If only I knew why.

“How about to beautiful people?” I hold up my glass, letting my gaze drop down his lounged form.

Because he is beautiful. He might be the most beautiful man I’ve ever met.

“You,” he says, nodding. He clinks his glass with mine. “To you.”

“To you,” I say, maybe a little too gently.

We sip our champagne, gazes locked in some sort of silent need. It’s me who relents first and looks away. “The meeting and panels this afternoon, they went well?”

“Very well.” He clears his throat. “I’ve been wanting to catch Gabe Fishers for years now.”

“Good,” I say, feeling proud for setting it up for him.

“How was your day?” he asks.

“Terribly lazy,” I admit with a slow smile. “Once I showered and unpacked, I had no idea what to do. I caught up on emails and tried to work on the two cases I brought along, but I was sat out here in the sun and ended up drifting off to sleep.”

I also tried calling my sister, but she never answered, and I’ve still not heard anything, which is unlike her. Unless she’s picked up an extra shift and not told me.

“What cases?”

“Temple and Renswrath. You have a meeting with Jimmy on?—”

“No working,” he says, cutting me off. “Not here. This is time for you to catch up. Recharge.”

I frown and shake my head. “No, it’s for you to rest and recharge. I don’t need to.”

“That wasn’t a request, Lissie. I’m telling you. To be at your best, you need to be well rested. No working on cases or checking emails. It’s two days. Less than that now.”

I frown. “You’re still working.”

“I’m the boss.” He shrugs, his mouth turning up on one side. “I get to do whatever I want.” He takes another sip of the champagne.

“And I’m your assistant. Employed specifically to make your life easier and ensure balance.”

“Then make it easier and listen to me.”

I snap my mouth closed, completely stumped for a change.

He smirks at me.

Smirks .

“I’m technically in charge of your whole life since you employed me.”

He chuckles. “I don’t think that’s how the contract was worded, but I’ll humour you.”

I roll my eyes and smile. “Humour me. Please . You love it.”

“Like having you and Edna on my ass twenty-four-seven?”

I take a sip of my champagne. “I don’t think that’s how our contracts were worded but…”

My stomach knots as a smile finally breaks his lips in two. A full, tooth and all, breathtaking smile. “Touché.”

“Touché,” I repeat, staring stupidly at his handsome face.

He watches me for a minute, his stare evermore as it travels to the deepest parts of me and settles with a certainty I’ve never seen in another’s eyes. So certain, in fact, that when he finally relents and stands, finishing the last of his drink, I still feel it—his stare, right there at the centre of my chest.

I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking.

With flushed cheeks, he cocks his head towards the suite. “We’ll be late.”

I stand and walk in ahead of him, collecting up my bag from the table. “I made sure all planned events were within walking distance. Granted, I didn’t expect you to want to attend this evening’s charity event, but it shouldn’t be much of a walk,” I tell him.

He pulls on the door, holding it open for me, a quiet calm about him. “What would I do without you?”

“If I had to take a guess, you’d still be in your office working on a case you’d been staring at for the past two days whilst drinking number— I’m not afraid of insomnia —cup of coffee of the day.” I turn and wait for him. “Definitely wouldn’t be wearing that smile.”

He frowns, face softening. “What smile?”

“You know the one. I watch you fight it most days.”

“I don’t fight smiles.”

“You’re doing it now. I saw that smile when I turned around just now. You got caught, admit it.”

He shakes his head, locking the door and then scanning the card after. It makes a whirling nose and then clicks twice.

“Sounds healthy,” I mutter, frowning at the door.

He checks it’s locked, and then we walk together towards the lift.

I side-eye him and find his iron mask back in place. I roll my eyes. “On a scale of one—we leave after ten minutes and get shit-faced in the hotel bar, to ten—we meet the loves of our lives and don’t leave until they throw us out, how do you see this night going?”

He peers down at me, still pretending I annoy him. “A five. You take my arm, be respectful, and go to bed when I tell you to.”

I slip my arm through his, my insides melting at his warmth. “Charles, that’s a solid minus two, not a five.”

“Apologies,” he says playfully. “What’s going to get me back in the pluses?”

I shrug. “At least one trauma dump and a shot of tequila should do it.”

He sniggers, giving me the win as he shakes his head. “We’ll see.”

We head out of the hotel and make the short, very well-timed walk down to the event. We’re greeted at the doors by a handsome young man. “Good evening. Could I take your names, please.”

I smile when his eyes drop and then come back up to me.

He’s cute actually.

“Charles and Lissie Aldridge,” Charles says, his voice cutting in like a knife.

I watch as the man crosses through the names, then looks up at the man at my side and frowns.

He used his name?

Did he think I’d be recognised?

Is he…embarrassed by me?

“The perfect night for a romantic evening, Mr and Mrs Aldridge,” the attendant says, gesturing to the pinking sky above the open-air venue. “Enjoy.”

“Oh,” I say in a panic. “No, we’re not.” I swallow and look up at Charles, waiting for him to correct him. When he doesn’t, I look back at the attendant and say, “My brother.”

Charles scratches at his eyelid, seemingly okay with letting me run with this plot twist.

“Yes. I’m here with my brother,” I confirm, wanting to die.

“That’s great,” the attendant says, wearing second-hand embarrassment on his face.

I roll my lips, turning when Charles does, feeling like a complete idiot. Once we’re out of earshot, he loosens his arm and slips it over my shoulder, lowering his head to mine and then whispering in my ear. “You’re right, I do fight my smiles.”

I shove him away and give him a look. “You caught me off guard.”

“I thought you’d be used to carrying my name by now with all the men you’ve been catfishing on that dating site.” We head for the bar without needing to communicate it. Charles leans against it and simply gazes down at me, quickly finding that spot inside of me again. “Should I be concerned at the utter panic you had when he insinuated you were my wife?”

“Why are you smiling like that?” I accuse.

He looks away, boyish and making my stomach flip. “I panicked. I didn’t know if you’d want me linked to you as your wife. If he had recognised me and put two and two together, it could be really embarrassing for you. I thought you were embarrassed by me.”

He gazes down at me, his frown scolding. “You say the stupidest of shit sometimes.”

My lips twist when he hands me a shot—tequila.

I don’t know what’s gotten into him tonight, but I like it.

Maybe a little bit too much.

He holds his shot out between us, and I match him, waiting for another of his toasts.

But then his features loosen, eyes darkening as he looks down through the tequila shot.

I frown.

“My best friend is in prison for manslaughter, and I’ve not been able to contact or see him in a little over two years.”

My smile drops as he takes the shot.

“Charles,” I say, processing.

“Do the shot, Lissie,” he says over the music.

I gingerly neck the tequila, my mind still holding on to his words.

When it’s clear he isn’t going to elaborate, I place the shot glass on the bar top and turn my attention to the room.

The venue for tonight’s auction is beautiful. So beautiful, in fact, that if I’d known, I would’ve insisted we attend.

“What made you want to come tonight?” I ask, keeping my attention on the room so that he can have the space he needs to look or feel however he is right now.

I wish I could hug him. I’m almost certain the man could do with the biggest hug.

“There’s a boat I’m interested in buying.”

I turn on him. “A boat?”

He continues to look around the room like I had. “My friends own a lake. Their boat is as old as me.”

“Not too old, remember, Charles.”

He flashes a forced smile, his mind not fully with me. “Not too old,” he confirms.

I can’t help but wish I’d never asked for the trauma dump. But the fact this man, who seems to barely give an inch at the best of times, chose to tell me—although it’s left me with a million questions—I’ll take it.

“The kids would love it. The boat,” he says.

I nod, thinking about the pictures in his office. “How old are they?”

“Ellis—that’s Mason’s son, he’s three. And Waverley—we call her Ave, is nearly two.”

“Is Waverley Elliot Montgomery’s?”

“No. Ave is Scarlet and Lance’s child.”

“Scar. I’ve heard you mention her before. And the Lance situation,” I say, remembering Edna’s efforts to get him away on this trip.

Things start to click in my mind as he nods once.

“Yeah, the Lance situation.”

The one in prison.

“Your friends’ children mean a lot to you,” I say, sensing it.

“They’re at the top of the list of reasons I get out of bed in the morning.”

I smile. “That’s…pretty special.”

“They are.”

“But you wouldn’t want children of your own?”

He thinks on it for a moment before eventually saying, “When I was younger, I’d have told you I wanted many. When it’s what’s done, it’s what you do.”

“Like a rite of passage. Job, marriage, kids.”

“Exactly,” he agrees. “Only the job…it hardened me, showed me the worst of the world and then kept me from it. Children would make me as a man, I know that, but the want for them seems almost selfish, and I’m not sure that’s a reason to bring a life into the world.”

I stand paralysed, my heart pounding. My lips move before I can even process the thought that threatens. “I wish my parents had that mindset when considering bringing me into the world.”

His frown reminds me of where I am. Of what I’ve just said.

“Sorry.” I turn towards the bar and close my eyes, willing myself to shove the emotions all the way back down.

“Lissie,” he says, his hand smoothing across my back.

I swallow and tip my head up, his body close, bringing me a comfort I want to grasp tightly in my hands. “I know that was a stupid thing to say.”

His blue eyes pierce through me. “Did you mean it?”

I roll my bottom lip under my top, trying to ready the lie, but the way he’s looking at me…I drop my eyes and turn towards the bar, catching the attention of the staff member. “Could I get two more tequilas, please?”

When I turn and hand Charles one, his eyes still burn into me. “It’s okay, Charles, I made it out of the womb and have been thriving ever since.” A lie. I clink the shot glass to his and down it. “I think we’re toeing the line of needing therapy instead of that five we were going for.” I nod towards the shot in his hand, and he downs it.

I slip my arm through his and play the dutiful assistant. “Let’s go get you that boat.”

I lead the way to our seats and find our name placements.

Charles greets everyone at the table, introducing me as his cousin and giving me a stupidly shifty smile once sat beside me.

I can’t help but appreciate the change of mood.

“You’re a child.”

He leans in close to my ear, making my head turn into my shoulder as his breath tickles. “You started it.”

I roll my eyes and reach for the piece of card on the table in front of me.

“The charities,” I say, scanning the list and noting how varied they are. I smile up at Charles. “Do you know what’s being auctioned?”

“A boat.”

I sit forward in my seat. “I should have checked the list before coming,” I say to the woman beside me.

“You plan to bid?” Charles asks.

“Bid. Win. Same thing, I suppose. How big is the boat?”

“Seems we have a duel on our hands,” someone says from across the table.

“Seems so,” Charles mutters, his eyes not leaving me.

“I do love a charitable event.” I smile at him sweetly, loving how easy it is to rile him. I place my hand on his chest. “But, cousin, surely you know I’d never outbid you on the boat.”