Love, Your Concierge Page 11
I had woken yesterday morning to the smell of bacon. I threw on a pair of panties and put Grant’s shirt on again, then padded out into the kitchen.
“Good morning, beautiful.” He greeted me with a smile and a kiss to the top of my nose. I secretly loved when he did that.
He was only wearing his boxer briefs and the sight was more than my still sleepy system could handle.
“You’re making breakfast,” I stated the obvious with a surprised tone. For some reason, I didn’t figure Grant for the type of man to cook his own meals. I knew his maid handled most of his meal prep. I guess I just never thought that much about it.
“A man needs to know how to sustain himself,” he replied and began scrambling eggs. “My grandfather always told me I needed to be able to take care of myself because riches were easy to gain and easier to lose. I always assumed that philosophy came from his living through the Great Depression.”
“That would make sense.” My stomach growled as I looked over the crisp bacon and buttered toast. Grant laughed when he heard it and instructed me to get ready to eat.
I hurried to the bathroom and did my business. Once my hair was tamed and my teeth were brushed, I joined Grant in the small kitchen. Not wanting to over think it, I wrapped my arms around his waist and rested my palms on his smooth and hard chest. I placed a kiss between his shoulder blades and then rested my cheek in the same spot. His hands covered mine, and I allowed myself a few moments to enjoy the intimacy that I had been missing with all my other lovers. I didn’t realize how closed off I had truly been until that moment.
I had decided the night before after we had sex that if I was going to live a fantasy with Grant, I was going to do it right. And that meant not holding back from what I wanted – Grant.
I reluctantly moved away from him and poured myself a mug of coffee before topping his off. I knew he wouldn’t be able to finish breakfast if I was too clingy.
We settled in and ate our food while making small talk. Grant asked if he could use my laptop to remote into his office and take care of a few case files, so I set about cleaning the dishes and straightening my bedroom while he worked at the kitchen table. Every time I caught the sight of him sitting there, I had to stop myself from sighing. He looked damn good in my kitchen.
After he finished working, the sex-a-thon – as I liked to call it – from the night before picked back up into full swing.
It started when he lifted me onto the table and ate “dessert” before he fucked me until I felt as if I was coming out of my skin.
After we lounged on the couch for a while, we picked back up in the shower. I had never had a naughty shower before, but I must say it was heaven. A week ago, if someone told me I would enjoy being told to get on my knees and suck him off while the shower rained down on us, I would have laughed. Now, though... Now my body shivered with remembering how amazing it was.
During lunch, Grant fed me grapes while we ate the sandwiches I had made for us. It was all so comfortable and familiar. Like we had spent days like this together for years.
I couldn’t believe how much I enjoyed everything about it. Not once did I wish I had my space or some quiet time to myself. Nor did I feel the need to constantly entertain him. It was just so peaceful. And I got a sense that Grant felt the same way.
After lunch, we snuggled in my bed and dozed in between kisses and petting and more amazing orgasms.
We ordered Chinese food from down the street and Grant taught me how to use chopsticks. We laughed through stories of our childhoods and losing our virginities. Although, Grant didn’t seem too pleased hearing about my experience with another man. That just made me laugh harder because he looked like a pouty little boy. It was so out of character from what I knew of him.
With the food put away, we watched an old black and white movie that was on television before he took me to bed and made love to me.
Yes. Grant Morgan made love to me.
He took his time savoring my body and slowly moving in and out of me. His hand dug into my hip as he ground against my clit and made my legs wrap tighter around him. His eyes never left mine, and it was so intimate that I felt tears behind my eyes.
I wanted this with him – forever. A day and two nights weren’t going to be enough. I was hooked and as I started to doze in his arms, my mind started to conjure up fantasies of us doing this for a lifetime.
Sure, there were things we were going to have to work out, like the fact that he was my client and the other women. But I was prepared to do that for him. He had unlocked something inside me that I didn’t know was there, and I wanted to throw away the key. I had an overwhelming feeling that this was right, and I never shied away from those feelings. It had gotten me to where I was today, so I chose to believe it now.
I rolled to my side following my trip down memory lane and was disappointed when I noted Grant’s side of the bed was cold. I listened for a moment, but didn’t hear any noises coming from the other rooms. I sat up and held the sheet to my bare chest when I took in my room. His clothing was gone, as was his keys and his wallet that was on my dresser last night.
My shoulders sagged and I irrationally wanted to weep like a baby. My mind automatically went to the worst case scenario, that maybe he didn’t feel the same way I did.
Knowing I didn’t have time to wallow in my self-pity until later that night, I got up and put a robe on. I walked out to the kitchen and saw a pot of coffee was made. Sitting next to it on the counter was one of my pieces of stationery.
My heart pounded against my chest when I unfolded it and saw the masculine scrawl on the creamy paper.
Elizabeth – My apologies for leaving you, but I had to get into the office early and you looked too peaceful to wake. This weekend surpassed any and all of my expectations. You were perfect in every way. I hope you have a lovely day. I’ll call you later. Yours – Grant.
I held the paper to my chest and danced around on cloud nine at his words. He felt it too. And I was perfect in every way!
Oh my God. This could actually be happening.
I read the note again, memorizing it so as to recall it later when I was working and needed a pick me up. Then I rushed to get ready. I wanted all my work done early enough today that I could spend time with Grant if he wanted to.
♥♥♥♥♥
Know the song “Manic Monday” by the Bangles? That was my anthem today.
While it started out with anticipation for what was to come, it quickly turned into dread when one of my highest maintenance clients decided to start planning his Christmas list – two months early. He texted me. He emailed me. And he called me. The worst part was he wanted to give his four year old niece an empty box. He thought it was the best idea since sliced bread. I tried to convince him that a four-year old wouldn’t understand, but he wouldn’t listen. This went on for hours, and I was at my wits end.
Then I went to the Jensen’s to check on their apartment while they were in Greece, only to discover one of their pipes had burst… days ago. It was a mess. Most of the rooms were flooded, and the apartment below them had damage. The only reason why it wasn’t caught sooner was because the neighbors below them had moved to Florida for the winter.
I quickly arranged for a plumber and a cleaning company and then ran around the two thousand square foot apartment trying to salvage anything that was either wet or about to get wet. Stuffed animals, antiques, electronics. It was all such a mess.
Hours later I was finally dragging my tired ass home, when it happened.
It was the equivalent of an eclipse taking out the earth’s light indefinitely or someone reaching into my chest, ripping my heart out and shredding it while I helplessly watched.
Basically, my newfound dream shattered all around me.
Outside my apartment door when I walked off the elevator was a flower delivery. Three dozen red roses in varying shades arranged in a beautiful crystal vase filled the hall with a fresh floral scent.
My stomach
dropped knowing only one person would be sending these, and the sick realization that I was just like all the others had bile rising in my throat. I rushed to open the door and ran into the bathroom where I threw up.
I rinsed my mouth out and opened the door to pick them up. I set them on the kitchen table and pulled out the card nestled within what I hated to admit were beautiful flowers.
Thank you for an amazing time. – Grant
I ripped the card into a bunch of tiny pieces and threw it in the garbage. Then I paced. And paced. And paced some more.
How could I have been so damn stupid to think that I had actually meant something to him? It made me sick all over again to know that he treated women like they were the most important thing to him and that he cherished their time together, only to send them fucking flowers and then move on to the next one.
I was just like Bridgette, Mona and Kiki, to name a few. And oh God… I could just imagine the conversation he had with Madison when he told her to buy me flowers. She must have felt sorry for me, especially since I was normally the one who would have had to buy them. How could I ever face her again?
He was such a disgusting, self-righteous, man whore!
Well, I’ll tell you what… the other women might take the shit that he hands out, but not me. I was going to set things straight with Grant Morgan once and for all. And there was no way I was ever going to let myself compromise my principles again.
♥♥♥♥♥
I stormed down the hall to Grant’s apartment door and pressed the doorbell over and over again. I was a bit impatient seeing as how I had let my anger stew on the subway the whole way there. That was of course after I gave the roses to the nice elderly woman who lived down the hall from me. I couldn’t bring myself to throw away such beauty.
I stabbed the button to the bell a gazillion times and then started pounding.
“Elizabeth?” Grant asked when he finally opened the door. “Is everything alright? I was on a conference call in the office. Why didn’t you just use your key?”
“I’ll only be using my key for professional purposes from this point forward, thank you very much.” I stormed past him into the entryway.
“I’m not sure I’m following you. Why don’t you explain while I get you a drink? Would you like a glass of wine?” He started down the hallway, and I had no choice but to follow him into the living room where the wet bar was.
He was wearing suit pants, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned to showcase the thick column of his throat. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and highlighted the muscles in his forearms. I refused to let his hotness sway me, so I choose to focus on the fact that the last time I was here – which was less than seventy-two hours ago – he had another woman in his kitchen after she stayed the night.
“I won’t be here long enough for a drink,” I snapped with a nastiness I didn’t know I possessed. Apparently Grant Morgan brought out the worst in me.
He turned slowly towards me, his eyebrows raised in astonishment at the way I was talking to him.
“I’m not sure where you get off screwing me and then screwing me. I might not be some great socialite like your precious Corinne, but I’m a damned good catch and I deserve better than your bullshit. If you only wanted sex from me, you should have said so. And for God’s sake, you shouldn’t have spent the whole fucking weekend with me. I’m not some hussy that sleeps around,” I screeched like a mad woman. I couldn’t even control myself at that point. I was fighting for all of womankind now.
“Elizabeth, I know you’re not a hussy. So why don’t you back up and explain to me how I screwed you, besides the obvious of course.” His hands were held up in a placating gesture and his voice was cajoling, like he was talking to an insane person. And I suppose he was.
“Like you don’t know,” I hissed. At his confused look, I continued, “The flowers, Grant. The fucking flowers. You treated me like one of your fucking bimbos!”
“Whoa. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I had Madison deliver flowers to you after a lovely weekend where I thought we really connected. Do you honestly think I’d spend a whole weekend with someone I thought was a fucking bimbo?” His voice took on a sinister tone at the end that had me stepping back slightly. “That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve done since you got here,” he said when he caught my movement.
“I’ve had the luxury of ordering, let’s see… at least a dozen bouquets of flowers since I started working for you and all of them thanked a woman for a nice evening. You basically thanked me for a nice evening you asshole!”
“You mean to tell me that Madison has been having you send flowers to other women?” He sounded dangerous when he asked that, and I suddenly felt sorry for Madison. I had a feeling she wasn’t supposed to pass that task off onto someone else. And I was a little confused because I thought he already knew that, but apparently I was mistaken.
“That isn’t the point, Grant!”
“No, you’re right. It isn’t. The point is that after a whole weekend where I opened up to you and shared parts of myself that I haven’t shared with a woman in a long time, you honestly think that the flowers I sent you were anything like the other ones. I thought you knew me, Elizabeth. I thought someone finally saw me and not what they wanted to see.”
“Well, what else could it be? A bouquet for her, a bouquet for me. A thank you for her, a thank you for me. A leopard can’t hide its spots. You are such a dick!”
“I can see you have your mind made up and there isn’t anything I can say to change it. I’m glad I found out now how you really feel about me. At least now I can say it was only a wasted weekend. I have work to do. You can see yourself out.” His voice sounded dejected and sad, which strangely tugged at my heartstrings.
I watched in astonishment as he walked away from me, and I heard the office door shut.
I stomped my foot and growled. How the hell did he get to walk away from me when I was the one who came here to walk away from him?
Gah! Thank goodness this was over. I was beginning to hate who I was becoming.
Chapter Eleven
Wakeup Call
“I’ll be fine, Maya.” I coughed into the phone and pulled the blanket further up my body.
“You sound awful. I know you say you’ll be back at things tomorrow, but I think you should take another day. Your cold would go away a lot quicker if you took it slow. Setting up that dinner party last night when you had a fever was really dumb.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll consider taking tomorrow off if you’ll leave me alone and let me fall back to sleep,” I whined into the phone.
“Fine, fine. Feel better,” Maya said before disconnecting the call.
I tossed the phone on the bed next to me and coughed so hard my head throbbed. I blew my nose and added the tissue to my overflowing garbage can next to the bed. I absolutely hated being sick. I had felt it coming on for days and rather than take care of myself, I ran myself ragged.
If I thought I worked a lot B.G. or before Grant as I have since dubbed it, I now worked an inordinate amount of time. It was the only way to keep myself busy enough so that I didn’t think about him. Especially because some of the time I found myself missing him and some of the time I found myself disgusted with him.
They say it’s a fine line between love and hate.
Being in his apartment was torture. Smelling him everywhere was torture. The only thing that stopped me from dropping him as a client was the fact that my mother’s bills were, in fact, outrageous. Maya offered to take over his workload, but I assured her I would be fine. I wasn’t really ready to let go yet.
Closing my eyes, I sniffled and chose to believe it was because I was sick and not the fact that I missed him so deeply. The fact that he felt betrayed that I would think he considered me a bimbo had me perplexed. Could I have mistaken the whole thing? I was wrong about the Corinne situation. Then again, how did I know he was telling me the truth anyway? Men said things all the time just to get
laid.
Besides, we were doomed from the beginning. I should have never allowed myself to get involved with him in any way, shape or form. It was best to keep things on a platonic and business level.
I closed my eyes and fell into a fitful sleep where I tossed and turned and coughed.
Someone knocking on the door had me cursing. The last thing I wanted to do was get up to see who it was. I rolled over and put a pillow over my head willing whoever was on the other side of the door to go away.
When the knocking didn’t stop, but rather grew more insistent, I stumbled out of bed in my t-shirt and shorts, and opened the door without looking through the peephole. I was too tired and weak to follow my typical protocol. At this point, I would welcome someone hacking me to pieces and putting me out of my misery.
“You had me worried half to death,” Grant sighed as he pushed his way past me holding a brown paper bag. “I thought maybe your fever went too high. Don’t ever do that to me again, Elizabeth.”
“Um, what?” I asked, unable to keep up with what was happening. How did he know about my fever?
I hadn’t seen him since I left his apartment that night, and he looked just as good now as he did then, in his blue jeans and tight black t-shirt underneath a leather coat.
“Maya told me you were sick with a fever. When you didn’t answer I was afraid you had passed out from it. Now go get back into bed and I’ll bring you a bowl of soup.”
“What?” I still wasn’t comprehending his presence here. And Maya really needed to stop doing Grant’s errands when it was late enough for him to be home. She and I were going to have a little talk when I was feeling better.
“You. Bed. Me. Soup.” Then he swatted my ass and pushed me towards the bedroom.
Reeling from his playful and worried behavior, I padded back to my bed and crawled under the blankets. True to his word, Grant brought in a tray with a bowl of soup and a cup of hot tea. He settled on the edge of my bed and leaned back on his elbows, looking like he was planning on staying a while.