“Okay,” she huffs, and climbs in. She doesn’t live far from me, so our ride shouldn’t take long. Normally I would enjoy driving the small Audi. It’s nimble in Seattle’s traffic. But I’m distracted by every pedestrian. One of them could be Leila.
“Were all your submissives brunettes?” Ana asks out of nowhere.
“Yes.” But I don’t really want to discuss this. Our fledgling relationship is moving into dangerous territory.
“I just wondered.” She’s fidgeting with a tassel on her backpack; fidgeting means she’s apprehensive.
Put her at ease, Grey.
“I told you. I prefer brunettes.”
“Mrs. Robinson isn’t a brunette.”
“That’s probably why. She put me off blondes forever.”
“You’re kidding.” Ana’s disbelief is obvious.
“Yes. I’m kidding.” Do we really have to talk about this? My anxiety multiplies. If she keeps digging, I’ll confess my darkest secret.
No. I can never tell her. She’ll leave me.
Without a backward glance.
And I recall watching her walk up the street and into the garage at The Heathman after our first coffee.
She never looked back.
Not once.
If I hadn’t contacted her about the photographer’s show…I wouldn’t be with her now.
Ana’s strong. If she says good-bye, she means it.
“Tell me about her,” Ana interrupts my thoughts.
What now? Is she talking about Elena? Again? “What do you want to know?” More information about Mrs. Lincoln will only worsen her mood.
“Tell me about your business arrangement.”
Well, that’s easy enough. “I’m a silent partner. I’m not particularly interested in the beauty business, but she’s built it into a successful venture. I just invested and helped get her started.”
“Why?”
“I owed it to her.”
“Oh?”
“When I dropped out of Harvard, she loaned me a hundred grand to start my business.”
“You dropped out?”
“It wasn’t my thing. I did two years. Unfortunately, my parents were not so understanding.”
“You’re what?” Grace scowls at me, her expression apoplectic.
“I want to leave. I’m going to start my own company.”
“Doing what?”
“Investments.”
“Christian, what do you know about investments? You need to finish college.”
“Mom, I have a plan. I think I can do this.”
“Look, son, this is a huge step that could affect your entire future.”
“I know, Dad, but I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to live in Cambridge for another two years.”
“Transfer. Come back to Seattle.”
“Mom, it’s not the place.”
“You just haven’t found your niche.”
“My niche is out in the real world. Not in academia. It’s stifling.”
“Have you met someone?” Grace asks.
“No,” I lie smoothly. I knew Elena before I went off to Harvard.
Grace narrows her eyes and the tips of my ears burn.
“We cannot condone this reckless move, son.” Carrick is summoning his full-on pompous-prick dad mode, and I worry he’s going to give me his signature “study hard, work hard, and family first” lecture.
Grace emphasizes her point. “Christian, you’re gambling with the rest of your life.”
“Mom. Dad. It’s done. I’m sorry to disappoint you again. My decision is already made. I’m just informing you.”
“But what about the wasted tuition?” My mother is wringing her hands.
Shit.
“I’ll pay you back.”
“How? And how in heaven’s name are you going to start a business? You need capital.”
“Don’t worry about that, Mom. It’s in hand. And I will pay you back.”
“Christian, darling, it’s not about the money…”
The only lesson I learned at college was how to read a balance sheet, and I found the peace that single sculls brought me.
“You don’t seem to have done too badly dropping out. What was your major?” Ana says, bringing me back to our conversation.
“Politics and economics.”
“So, she’s rich?” Ana is fixated on Elena’s loan to me.
“She was a bored trophy wife, Anastasia. Her husband was wealthy—big in timber.” This always makes me smile. I give Ana a sideways smirk. Lincoln Timber. What an unpleasant asshole he turned out to be. “He wouldn’t let her work. You know, he was controlling. Some men are like that.”
“Really? A controlling man?” Ana sounds scornful. “Surely a mythical creature.” Sarcasm drips off every word. She’s in a sassy mood, but her response makes me grin.
“She lent you her husband’s money?”
She sure did.
“That’s terrible.”
“He got his own back.”
The asshole.
My thoughts take a dark turn. He nearly killed his wife because she was fucking me. I shudder to think what he’d have done to her if I hadn’t shown up. Fury surges through my body and I clutch the steering wheel as we wait for the Escala garage barrier to open. Blood drains from my knuckles. Elena was in the hospital for three months and she refused to press charges.
Control yourself, Grey.
I relax my hold on the steering wheel.
“How?” asks Ana, as curious as ever, wanting to know about Linc’s revenge.
I’m not telling her that story. I shake my head and park in one of my allotted spaces and turn off the ignition. “Come—Franco will be here shortly.”
In the elevator, I glance down at her. The little v is there between her brows. She’s pensive, maybe processing what I told her—or is it something else?