“Candy?” She rolled her eyes. “Can’t believe she wasn’t the first person you fired.”
“Grammy!” I was glad the door was shut. “I haven’t fired anyone. I’m certainly not getting rid of my assistant. She’s been a life-saver this week.”
Was that all it had been? A week? I had lived a lifetime in the past few days.
It was starting to feel awkward that I was on this side of my desk. My grandmother looked quite comfortable where she was sitting. It was good to see her out of Warriors-themed clothes for once. She was wearing a peach cardigan over a navy blouse and navy pants.
“Breakfast isn’t necessary. But you can have that bimbo bring coffee. That would be fine.”
“Grammy, what has gotten into you?”
I stared at her in disbelief.
She looked at me without hesitation. “I’ll take cream and sugar.”
I exhaled. I had no idea what was going on. I walked to the door. “Candy, could you order my latte and a coffee for my grandmother, please?”
I closed the door again. It was a few minutes before Candy entered with a coffee cart. I looked at her. I’d never seen it before.
“I ordered it for occasions like this. I hope that’s ok.”
“Of course.” I smiled. “It’s perfect actually.”
“That’s enough,” Grammy snapped. “We are having a meeting.”
I mouthed an apology to Candy as she backed out of the office.
“Grammy, really. What is going on? You’re never like this.”
She stirred in creamer and sugar into the china cup.
“You didn’t come home last night, Nessa.”
I was a grown woman. It wasn’t like I hadn’t spent nights out. I’d gone to college. I’d traveled Europe.
“I didn’t realize you were worried.” I tried to spin the situation. “I’m sorry if I kept you up.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She waved her hand. “I can only guess what had you out.”
I bit my tongue. I didn’t have to defend my adult lifestyle. I had no regrets about my decisions, and last night was no different. It had changed my life.
“I brought you a gift.” She nodded toward the floor.
There was a black safe next to my desk.
“What is that?” I peered at it. How had she hauled that thing in here?
“Call it a gift from the grave.”
I placed my latte on the edge of the desk and walked around the side, stooping to my knees. There was a passcode on the front. I looked at her.
“7-9-5-8. Your father’s birthday.”
“Oh.” I punched in the numbers and the safe unlocked. I lifted the lid. I stared at files of papers. It looked like a banker’s box of notes.
“What is this?” I picked up the one on top, reading the name: Luke Canton. “Why do you have a file on our quarterback?”
She brought the cup to her lips. “I do not have a file on Luke Canton. Those were your grandfather’s.”