The Grand Duel (The Grand Men #4)

Chapter 31

THIRTY-ONE

Lissie

I step off the curb when I see the Land Rover through the traffic, knowing it’s easier for Scott if I go to him. As I pull open the door, I steal a rush of air into my lungs, quickly plastering a semblance of a smile onto my face.

My eyes lock with Charles’s, and my facade fractures.

They hold, for how long I don’t know, and then I drop them, fighting to keep the smile there. “Good morning,” I say to them both, my heart pounding.

“Good morning, Lissie,” Scott says back.

Charles stays mute at my side, his finger tapping his knee.

The last thing I want to do right now is talk—it’s why I haven’t replied to his text messages—so I welcome his silence.

No matter how awkward it feels to sit beside him now when things are so up in the air between us, I have to put it aside.

I grew up pretending the world around me was fine while it felt like I was falling apart inside. Pretending that we were as happy as we looked—it’s what I’m good at, so I’m not going to let my emotions or a man get the better of me now.

I close my eyes briefly and let out a lungful of air, willing my mind to leave last night—and the fact my sister is currently spending time with the two people I vowed never to let into my life again—well alone.

When I open them again, I catch Scott eyeing his boss in the rearview mirror, his gaze flicking between the road and the back seat as if a bomb has just climbed into the car and is about to go off.

I’d love to toe the professional line with the man at my side with dignity, but after last night, it seems we both suck at it.

“Much planned for the weekend, Scott?” I ask, trying to defuse his worry.

He continues to look between Charles and the road. “Camping. We’re heading down south for the weekend.”

“Of course, with your children.”

He nods, smiling at me.

“Have you been?—”

“Drop us off at Macca’s, please, Scott,” Charles says, interrupting.

I turn my head towards him.

“Now?” Scott asks, perplexed.

Charles looks across at me, lips thinned and face like stone. “Now.”

I frown at him. “Don’t do that,” I tell Scott as I give Charles a look and shake my head. “What are you doing?” I whisper.

“We need to talk. I’m not leaving this for another day.”

“Right now?”

His gaze drops to my mouth. “Yes.”

I sigh, shaking my head at him. I should have texted him back. “It’s ten thirty, and you have a meeting at HQ. Get a grip for five minutes. We can talk later, okay.” I nod. “At the end of the day.”

I flick my eyes towards Scott and find he’s fighting a smirk.

Charles just stares at me. “Did you just tell me to get a grip?”

I tilt my head, pleading with him. “Later?”

His eyes tell me no a thousand times over, that it’s happening now because it cannot wait a second longer. Eventually, he must find something within himself. He sighs, long and heavy and lost, simply annihilating my existence with his stare until he seems to get enough of me, and then he reaches for his laptop, reverting back to his silence. Just as he did when we first met.

I used to think he hated me then, the way he’d type away whenever we were in the car, but I wonder if I actually drove him as mad then as I do now.

He knew it was me back then.

Knew that I was the woman he’d touched in the most carnal of ways.

No wonder he ignored me.

At three thirty, Charles comes and stands at my office door. He doesn’t say anything, he just watches me, his legs and arms crossed as he leans against the doorway in a way that makes him look even more edible.

Last night already doesn’t feel like enough.

“If you’re going to stand there until five with nothing better to do, could you at least get me a cuppa?”

I see him shake his head in my periphery. “How do you do it?”

I lift my gaze. And I know my eyes naturally soften once they reach him. I can’t even help it, the way the chaos calms at a glance. “Do what?”

“This.” He gestures to my office. “Work.”

I shake my head as if not understanding.

He stares through me. “I can’t think straight for trying.”

“This is my job, Charles. I can’t?—”

“I want you to stop calling me that.”

I swallow, my heart hammering in my chest. “It’s my job. That’s how I do it.”

“I texted you last night.”

A pang of guilt ebbs through me. “I know.” I flick my eyes up, chewing on my bottom lip. “I just needed to be on my own for a bit. My head was all over the place after I left the club.”

He nods. “I couldn’t find you. After.”

I give him a sad smile. That’s because I didn’t want you to see me cry . “It’s been a shit few days. I wouldn’t have been good company to keep.”

I’m not sure why I did what I did with him last night. I was devastated after my phone call with Jovie, and when Charles showed up at the club, I felt nothing but anger. I fucked him angry, too. At first. But then it became something else entirely, and I realised I didn’t choose to be in the room with him because I was angry at him or my sister at all. I wanted him in that moment because he has something inside of him I crave. A comfort. A flickering flame I long to burn in, that I can’t stay away from.

Charles Aldridge makes too much sense to just be a coincidental moment in my life.

If I know anything, it’s that.

I force my eyes away from him and to my computer, knowing if I don’t, then I won’t be able to think for trying either.

“So, tonight?”

I start typing random words, already checked out. “Tonight?” I ask, my pulse kicking up.

“You said in the car this morning that we’d talk. Can I take you out somewhere? Just me and you, away from this place and the club.”

I lift my eyes, biting on my bottom lip.

“I just want to talk to you, Lis,” he says with a pained frown. “I can’t make this right if you won’t let me.”

I didn’t shower this morning. Jovie still hadn’t called me, and I had three texts and a voicemail from my mum. Stupidly I thought that I could still smell him on me from the club. And so, I forwent the shower and quietly allowed the remnants of him to comfort me.

I used to think Jovie felt like home, but I think it had to be something else because Charles seems to give me the same feeling.

Like I can still breathe even though everything feels like it’s a mess around me.

I let my eyes refocus on him, swallowing down the lump in my throat. “I’ll think about it.”

His brows rise, and he straightens. “You will?”

I start to type random words again, my heart relentless.

“Okay, well, I have a meeting in about half an hour. You’re not scheduled on to come with me?—”

“I have a video call with Helen Chamberlin.”

“Right,” he says, but frowns. “Did Ed not send you over the schedule?”

“Uh.” I scroll up, knowing I saw the email ping this morning, but I’ve not had time to get to it yet. “Oh, yeah. I’ve got it here.” I click on it, reading the first line of her email.

[email protected]

Good morning, darling.

I’m not sure if a shared diary is for him or us, but here we are. He wanted something he could update on the road so that we know when he’s coming or going or will be late. I think this software looks great. Let me know what you think.

Edna Harrison

Manager

Charles Aldridge Ltd

I read it over again. “We already have access to your diary,” I tell him, casting my eyes back over to him.

“Not one that updates you. This should send you text alerts if I make any changes as they happen. You’ll know where I am and if anything changes or if I can’t make it somewhere. You won’t have to worry.”

I blink, my chest tightening.

I dip my head, nodding. “Great.”

Don’t be stupid, Lissie. He wouldn’t have done that for you.

With my heart in my throat, I awkwardly stare at my screen, hating how he just watches me. Like he can see right through me.

I type in my number when prompted, simply following the directions for the new software.

“Eight o’clock. I’ll be outside of yours regardless of your decision.”

I wait for him to back away, his eyes pinned on me until the last minute, and then I sag back in my office chair, blowing out a heavy breath, desperate to claw back a little of the control I’ve fought so hard for all day.

When my phone pings, I sigh and reach for it on my desk, expecting another pleading message from my mum.

Only it’s not from my mum.

It’s from the new scheduler.

A new appointment for Charles Aldridge at eight o’clock today.

I see the note attached and click on it.

You look beautiful today, Lis.

I stare at the message until my eyes go fuzzy, and I have to rub at them, trying for thinking a lost cause.

Charles doesn’t make it back by five, and I quickly pop into his office with Mrs Chamberlin’s file before leaving for the day. The dogs have spent the day at Mason Lowell’s estate, Charles seemingly taking Luna’s injury seriously and making changes. It makes me happy, if not a bit sad to not have them at my feet following me around the office.

I round his desk and drop down in the seat, taking a moment to sit in his space and feel immersed in him. His office is personal to him. Warm and rich. I can see why he wanted to keep the space when he moved the business into the headquarters.

I place the file onto his desk with a sigh, contemplating if going to dinner with him is a good idea.

After last night, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to spend time with him. To let him show me just how much his apology means.

Light from the desk catches my eye and I sit up, noticing his open laptop has flashed with a notification.

The laptop he uses in the car.

His personal laptop.

I narrow my eyes on it, unable to stop my mind from wandering.

Not able to help myself, I quickly click the button to unlock it, and when a password prompt pops up, I wrinkle my nose and jokingly type daisyandluna .

The screen clears, a list appearing.

I frown at the words listed and scroll quickly to the top until I see my name.

I freeze, adrenaline pumping under my skin.

I’m instantly intrigued.

Lissie Elton Aldridge

Persistent

Kind

Brown eyes

Knows how to fill a silence

Can’t not fill a silence

Nosey

Doesn’t like surprises

Impatient

Only wears HIGH heels

Loves in genres

I sit back, my eyes wide.

I blink, looking around the office as if it holds answers. As though it will tell me if my boss has really compiled a list of every single thing he’s learnt about me.

Sarcastic

Six Seven freckles on her nose

Chews on her bottom lip when she’s unsure

Neapolitan

Triple chocolate

Thinks a cuppa could save the world

I chuckle and keep reading.

Pink is pretty

Mint chocolate chip

Stubborn

Two sugars

Dislikes honeycomb ice cream a lot

I purse my lips, my eyes scanning over each one.

Snores

Can’t dance

Danced all night

Might fancy me a bit

Insufferable

Beautiful The most beautiful

I swallow, my heart skipping a beat.

STUBBORN

Apparently has a grip and I do not

I sit back and stare at the laptop, my mind scrambling to figure out if he really sat across from me for the last month and wrote down all the things he noticed. And why? Why would he make a list like this?

This… This is what he’s been working on when we’re in the car?

From those first few days.

He said that he didn’t tell me about the club because he wasn’t ready to open up. I’m not sure any excuse was going to mean much to me in the moment, I was hurt, but this…this list shows me exactly how he felt about me. That I wasn’t just another girl who he slept with and then lied to. That he does actually care. Care to notice these things about me, and care to then write them down.

I roll my lips, trying to hide my smile as my chest warms, my heart feeling a little giddy.

I read over some of the words again, pausing at the sentences and smiling a little at how accurate they are.

Eventually, I close the laptop and leave his office, knowing if I want to make my eight o’clock appointment with the guy I might still fancy a little bit, I need to get home.

The flowers on my doorstep remind me of my dad, only the bouquet is so excessive, I know they’re not from him.

I bend and pick them up and then lean in, inhaling their scent. They smell amazing.

I walk into my flat and place them on the side, plucking the card from the arrangement.

Very beautiful, Lis.

I roll my eyes and let my smile free, my mind going back to the list all over again. I take the card with me and head into my bedroom, pick out a strapless black midi dress and a bag, and then have a shower.

Charles arrives at seven fifty-nine on the dot, and I have to school my features as I pull open the door and behold him.

He has his head dipped at first, maybe not expecting me to answer the door so quickly. When he lifts it, his eyes locking on mine before they light up and then rake down my body, I realise that he didn’t expect me to open the door at all.

“Hi,” I say, briefly noting how perfectly his black shirt fits across his firm chest.

There’s something about knowing what his body can do, what it’s done to my own, that makes my stomach twist up in knots.

“You’re ready,” he says, clearing his throat.

“I’m never late,” I tell him, shifting on my feet when the weight of his stare doesn’t waver. “You look nice.”

His brows lift before he leans in and kisses my cheek, his hands holding then lingering on my waist. “And you look breathtaking.”

I roll my eyes, but my cheeks heat under my makeup, giving me away. I reach for my bag that sits on the arm of the sofa and then walk through the door. He steps back to make just enough room so that I can turn and lock it.

“You’re full of compliments today,” I say.

“Do you not want to put your flowers in some water?”

I peer over my shoulder and internally cringe. I think I chucked them in the sink when I came in…did he see them? “I can do it when I get home.”

He nods, watching me, and then, “You don’t like flowers.”

I walk ahead of him and out through the front door. Crap . “Is that a statement or a question?” I ask, wrinkling my nose at him apologetically.

His lips twitch at the corners. “Statement. Noted.”

I purse my lips, and walk to his car, wondering if he’ll add that to the list.

Dislikes flowers

He tries to get the door for me, but I’ve already reached for it, pulling it open.

He reaches my side and sighs, a little defeated.

I peer up at him. “Sorry.” I step back, kicking it shut with the pad of the Christian Louboutins he bought me in Italy.

He eyes them, smirks, and then pulls open the door.

“Thank you,” I tell him, my smile teasing.

I slide inside and wait for him, allowing myself a couple of seconds to revel in all that is Charles Aldridge as he rounds the car.

I frown as I watch him, tilting my head to one side. My eyes drop from his perfectly styled hair to his dark, fitted shirt.

When he gets in, he looks down at me. “What?”

I lean across the car and reach for his buttons, undoing the two below the top which he’d left. “You have a really attractive neck.”

“Neck?”

I let my fingers smooth over the hot skin. “Hmm. It’s so big, and you’re all tanned.” I drag my hand back and smile up at him, shrugging as my cheeks continue to burn. “That’s better.”

He pops a brow and swallows, readjusting in the seat and starting the engine.

I get the sense he’s a little wary of my mood.

“I’ve booked us a table at Kings Blu,” he says, clearing his throat.

I smile. “I’ve never been.”

“No?” he says with a frown.

“I know, it’s been the place for the last decade.” I cup my hands in my lap and lean my body into the centre console. “My parents went a lot when we were growing up. Jerry Lee James actually cooked for us at home a few years back. So, I’ve technically eaten JLJ food.”

“Wait. You had Jerry Lee James at your house?”

I nod, watching him. “It was Jove’s sixteenth birthday, and Mum had planned this evening with Kerry and Joseph Waterhouse—you’ve heard of their story, I’m sure…”

“Money laundering, wasn’t it?”

“Yep. My parents tried to help them during that.” I shake my head. “Idiots. Anyway, Jerry had come over to cook for this sit-down ‘we’re a happy perfect family’ meal, and my sister came home drunk. It was like, seven o’clock, and she could barely stand.”

Charles winces.

I bite my lip and smile, remembering my mother’s face. “She ended up tossing a piece of bluefin tuna at my dad’s face.” I snort. “Jerry was fucking mortified but not as mortified as my mother. I actually thought she might die that night.”

“Why did she do that?” he says, smiling as if my own is infectious.

“She had these friends at the time that weren’t all that good for her,” I say in explanation. “She was a teenager, and my dad had sat her down that morning and told her she could go to the office with him for the day. Learn the ropes.” I shake my head, my smile still there despite how much I know it hurt Jovie. I guess it is laughable. “She told them for years she wanted to work in medicine, that she would be a vet, or a doctor. But they wanted for her what they wanted for me—their life.”

“And you didn’t want that?”

“You couldn’t pay me to live life like they did.” I screw my nose up when he looks at me. “They’re as out of touch as it gets.”

“You’re not, though. How did you stay so grounded?”

I shrug, not one hundred percent certain that I am. “You could say that the perfect, happy family my mum wore on every page of every magazine wasn’t real. Once, it was. Before. I was six when my grandfather passed away, and Mum inherited the company.” I contemplate his question knowing I’ve gone off track. “My parents didn’t just succeed and grow out of touch with the world. They grew out of touch with us, too.”

He looks between me and the road. “I’m sorry, Lissie.”

I shrug. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.” I purse my lips, my chest squeezing at the words.

“Do you see them at all anymore?”

I dip my head, my heart aching at the thought of Jovie being with them right now. “No. They call, and I ignore it.” Guilt gets the better of me, and I grip my bag tighter in my lap. “Sometimes I do listen to whatever it is my mum is working through. Rarely, but I do.” I shrug. “She has a therapist now.”

“That’s good, isn’t it?”

“I guess so. I’d have preferred she found one ten years ago, though. Or maybe one for her daughter when she got pregnant at sixteen.”

He frowns, nodding. “Jovie was pregnant that year. The year she threw the tuna.”

“Uh-huh. She was spiralling and just…had enough.” I stare at the side of his face, not wanting to tap into why it’s so easy telling him about this. “I think because I remember my parents before Elton Chocolates, I had hope.” His jaw tightens, and I pause, wondering what he must think of me. “They weren’t always awful. The company got bigger once Dad got his hands on it, and things got hard to balance. They just lost sight of what probably should have mattered more. We went from beach trips and slow Sunday mornings to being told to sit a certain way and to always be the smartest person in any room.”

I frown at the memory of my dad telling me that line.

“But I wasn’t the smartest. I’d fidget and say stupid things to get attention at the functions they’d choose to take me to. And once Jovie was big enough to open her mouth and embarrass them further, they stopped taking us altogether. We were left alone some evenings whilst they’d attend, the staff long gone home and believing we were with our parents. Thankfully they eventually saw the light, and we were put into boarding school. I guess in the hope that one day we’d sit and think the way they wanted us to.”

“What do you mean they left you on your own?”

I blink, not realising I’d divulged so much. I shouldn’t…I can’t tell him about that. Can I? “It wasn’t often or for long,” I lie, dipping my head. “Just the odd occasion, and I was old enough to look after Jovie.”

There’s silence, a drawn-out space of time where I feel his eyes on me. “You said you went to boarding school?”

I nod and smile up at him, grateful that he’s changed the subject. “They were the best years of my life whilst they lasted.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. It’s literally where I learnt to be a person.” I chuckle.

“You said whilst it lasted.”

“I only had two years left in education when I enrolled. Jovie made the switch, too, and attended—until she fell pregnant.”

His eyes flick to me. “Thank you for telling me that.”

“The bluefin story?”

He nods. “And the other bits.”

I twist back in my seat. “I’m not normally such an oversharer when it comes to my family. You’ve caught me on a bad day,” I say with a forced smile, not realising how deep I’ve accidentally slipped.

“Why a bad day?”

You bought me flowers, and my sister is currently hosting my parents on the other side of the world.

I shake my head and watch as he pulls into a space outside of the restaurant, the person reserving it stepping out of the way with the sign just as he drives in.

“Smooth, Mr Aldridge.”

Undoing my seat belt, I go to reach for the door, but he grabs my wrist.

“Hey,” he says, stopping me.

I twist around as he takes my hand and slips it into his shirt, placing it on his neck and pushing my thumb down with his to brush over his throat. “Why a bad day? Because of me?”

I lift my eyes from his neck and flick them between his, his head tilting as if to say You can tell me anything. I’ll keep you safe .

It would be so easy to slip back into the people we were in Italy tonight. It feels like I’m almost halfway there already.

I shake my head. “I’m okay, Charles.”

“Charlie,” he corrects.

I lick across my lips and look up at him through my lashes. “It will be Charlie once I forgive you.”

His eyes narrow on my mouth. “You haven’t forgiven me?”

I flex my fingers against his neck. “Not quite.”

His eyes darken, and then he reaches up and runs his thumb across my lower lip. “Me on my knees not enough for you, Lis?”

My stomach clenches at the memory of him in the club last night, my body reacting to him shamelessly.

I twist my head and look out through the windshield, hiding my face from him.

I feel his pulse jump and kick in his neck and let it settle me.

“Lissie,” he rasps. He takes my chin and directs my gaze back to him. “Tell me why it’s a bad day and how I can make it better?”

My brows pull together at his concern, his need to make it right. I tilt my head to the side, letting my thumb brush up and down his smooth skin. “Not all bad.” I give him a half smile.

His hand smooths down my forearm. “Does touching my attractive neck make it better?”

I purse my lips and chuckle. “A little,” I reluctantly admit.

He smiles wide, and I push him away by the neck, not wanting him to see what he does to me.