My Grumpy Billionaire - Page 172
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Sierra
For three days, I’ve been craving a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with a jar of relish and a fresh lemon. Unfortunately, I haven’t had it. I don’t have peanut butter in my house. I’m also missing the relish and lemon.
I should go to the store, but I haven’t felt like it since I saw a hugely pregnant woman with her husband lovingly picking out peaches and oranges from the fruit section for her. I felt so alone and sad that I just can’t shop anymore. I left the cart right there and trudged back to my car, swallowing tears.
I’m turning into an irrational mess, and I hate it. Even as a child, I didn’t react like this when I saw my friends having a good time with their fathers. But now I can’t seem to control my emotions. According to Google, this is normal during pregnancy, but God I hope it stops. I don’t think I can continue like this until the triplets are out.
I certainly can’t afford hormonal irrationality when I have important decisions to make. Like now, in this conference room.
“So we like this new vendor’s proposal?” Jennifer asks, gesturing at the one I picked out yesterday.
“Their component meets our spec the best,” I say.
“And they have a great reputation for quality,” Ellie adds.
“All right then. I’ll tell Legal so they can start drafting the contract.” Heather taps her tablet a few times.
“Great. Thanks, Heather,” I say.
“Do you want anything for lunch?” she asks. She knows I’ve been nibbling on nothing but crackers over the last several days.
“I’m fine,” I say.
“I can get you a BLT from the deli,” Eli offers, since that’s normally my favorite.
“No,” I say. “Thanks, though.” I don’t want just any sandwich. I want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and the deli doesn’t have that.
There’s a soft buzz, and Heather pulls out her phone. “It’s Dan.”
He wouldn’t be texting unless it was important. “Is it Linda trying to get in again?” My stepmom has been permanently blacklisted. But she isn’t the type to accept that. If she doesn’t get what she wants, she’s going to make a scene, which is the last thing I want to deal with right now.
“No, it’s”—Heather looks up at me—“Griffin.”
I sit straighter, my head going blank with shock. After a moment, I croak, “He’s here?”
“Yeah. In the lobby, standing in front of the clock.”
By now, his brother must’ve received the box that I sent. Is this visit about that or something else?
As I ponder, my heart starts pounding. I don’t know if it’s with apprehension or anticipation.
“You might want to go downstairs,” Heather says after checking her phone again. “Just to be sure that there aren’t any issues.”
Heather knows something is wrong between me and Griffin, although I haven’t told her anything. She’s my assistant and can pick up on my moods, even when I try to play it off by pasting on a sunny smile.
“Fine. I’ll go see what’s going on. I probably do need something other than crackers for lunch, anyway.” Maybe I can convince myself that the churning emotions in my heart aren’t from seeing Griffin again but from hormonal food cravings.
We all get up, grab our purses and go downstairs. The elevator takes forever to come, and the descent seems interminable.
I try not to tap my foot. I’m not anxious about seeing Griffin. He’s probably here to say something mean. I still can’t believe he sent that ice-cold text after Lori gave him the box.
Or maybe he’s already gone. To him, time is money. Maybe I should get some cash ready, in case he complains.
Wait a minute… He didn’t make an appointment. Why is he here? He doesn’t seem like the type to drag things out or continue to complain about the same thing over and over again.
And we are over. Aren’t we?
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