Inappropriate by Vi Keeland
Chapter 11
Ireland
I wondered if he’d be here.
I was mid-conversation with some former colleagues I hadn’t seen in a few years when I got my answer. The sight of him made me lose my train of thought.
On the other side of the room, Grant Lexington stood wearing a classic black tuxedo. He was talking to an older gentleman, which gave me the opportunity to really take him in—tall, broad shoulders, yet not overly bulky, a narrow waist with one hand resting casually in his pants pocket. Even from a distance, his confidence registered. There was something about the way certain men held themselves that showed they were in charge, and that really worked for me. It could take a man who was a seven and make him an eleven in my book. On the other hand, a handsome ten with a meek personality could be reduced to a five.
Mr. Confident held a drink in his left hand and raised it to his mouth, but he stopped before drinking. He seemed to sense something and looked around the room. When his eyes caught mine, a slow, wicked smile spread across his face. He excused himself from the conversation and strode toward me.
My body tingled as I watched him approach with long strides, and I turned from the group I’d been standing with.
“What a pleasant surprise,” he said.
I tried to appear casual as I sipped my champagne. “I’m filling in for Bickman.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
Grant eyed the group next to me. “Are you here with a date?”
“No. You?”
He smiled and shook his head. “Would a compliment be unwelcome? I wouldn’t want to sexually harass you.”
“Compliments are always welcome, Mr. Lexington.”
His eyes sparkled. Taking hold of my elbow, he led me a few feet away from the group I’d been standing with. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to a man like me.”
“What was the compliment anyway?”
Grant’s eyes swept over me. “You look beautiful tonight.”
I blushed. “Thank you.”
Grant stopped a waiter as he passed. He gulped back the rest of the amber liquid in his glass and slipped the flute of champagne from my hand, setting them both down on the waiter’s tray.
“I was drinking that.”
He motioned for the waiter to move along and returned his attention to me. “I’ll get you more when we’re done.”
“Done with what?”
He held out his hand. “Dance with me.”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
He smirked. “I’m fucking positive it’s not.”
Grant took my hand and led me to the dance floor. I debated arguing, but when he pulled me close and I felt the firmness of his chest and took in his delicious masculine scent, I forgot what I was even about to argue over. He led with the same kind of confidence he exuded—a quiet dominance mixed with natural grace.
“So why no date tonight, Ireland?” He looked down at me as we glided around the dance floor.
“No suitable candidates, I guess.”
“Surely in the entire city of Los Angeles there’s at least one eligible bachelor.”
“I must keep missing him.”
Grant smiled.
We had good banter, that’s for sure. Even that first nutty email exchange.
“Why no date for you tonight?” I asked.
“I guess I keep missing her, too.”
We both laughed.
“So how are things going without Bickman?”
“Honestly, it’s going fine. He’s not really missed.”
Grant nodded. “Good to hear. Though I expected nothing less.”
A minute later, the song ended, and the emcee asked everyone to please find their seats in the main dining room. As soon as we stepped back from each other, a man approached Grant and asked to have a word with him.
He looked like he didn’t want to leave my side. “Where are you seated?” he asked.
“Table nine. You?”
“Table one. I’ll catch up with you later,” he said. “Thank you for the dance.”
I smirked. “It wasn’t like you gave me any choice. Enjoy your evening, Mr. Lexington.”
For the rest of the night, Grant and I didn’t cross paths. But that didn’t mean my eyes lost track of him at any point. He was busy; everyone in the room wanted a piece of him. Which was probably for the best, since the piece I seemed to want of him wouldn’t be the wisest business decision. Still, our gazes caught a few times, and we exchanged what I thought were flirty, private smiles.
When the coffee came out, I knew it was time for me to make my exit. Three thirty would roll around soon enough. I scanned the room for Grant, figuring I’d wave goodbye, but he was engrossed in a conversation with a group of men who all looked old enough to be his dad. I weighed the right business etiquette—did I go over and interrupt him to say goodnight, or simply leave? Undecided, I picked up my purse and said my goodbyes at my own table. When I was done, I looked back at where Grant had been talking, but he was no longer there.
I figured fate had decided how to handle things for me.
Though when I turned from my table, I crashed directly into a hard body.
I backed up. “Sorry. Oh…it’s you.”
“You sound disappointed. Would you have preferred to walk into someone else?”
I laughed. “No. I was going to come over and say goodnight, but then you disappeared.”
“I guess I beat you to it. I’ll walk with you. I was just heading out myself.”
He hadn’t looked like he was getting ready to leave a few minutes ago. Nevertheless, Grant put his hand on the small of my back and escorted me out of the ballroom.
Outside, I took out my phone.
“Did you drive?” he asked.
“No. I Ubered so I could have a glass of wine.”
“I have a car. I’ll drop you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“I insist.”
A minute later, a stretch limo pulled around. Apparently, him having a car meant a chauffeured one. The uniformed driver got out and went to open the back door, but Grant waved him off and opened it for me instead.
“Thank you.”
I slid across the backseat to make room for Grant. The rear of the limo was spacious enough to hold ten people. Yet when he climbed in and joined me, it suddenly felt very small. I was hyperaware of his thigh brushing against mine.
As we started to move, I looked forward, but sensed Grant’s eyes on me.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“You were staring at me.”
He looked back and forth between my eyes. “What’s your address?”
For some crazy reason, I debated giving it to him.
Grant must have seen the conflict written on my face and chuckled. “The driver needs it to take you home, Ireland. I wasn’t inviting myself over.”
“Oh, right. Of course.”
Feeling like an idiot, I spouted off my address. Grant leaned forward and relayed it to the driver. When he settled back into his seat, his leg now firmly pressed against mine.
“Tell me something about you, Ireland Saint James.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Anything.”
“Okay…” I thought about it. “I’ve had four promotions within Lexington Industries over the last nine years.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
I arched a brow. “You’ve looked me up.”
“How else would I have decided to give you your job back?”
I shifted in my seat to face him. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll tell you something about me you don’t know, if you promise to answer a question for me honestly.”
He nodded. “I can do that.”
It’s not easy to come up with a little-known fun fact about yourself when you’re under pressure, but I did my best. “I can do a backflip from standing still.”
Grant smiled. “Interesting.”
“Thank you. My turn. Did you decide to hire me back because of what I looked like?”
“Truth?”
“That would be nice, yes.”
I watched the wheels in his head turn. “If I say yes, that could be sexist and inappropriate based on our work relationship.”
I leaned over to him and lowered my voice. “It’ll be our little secret.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “I decided to hire you back because you have balls and don’t put up with shit from people like Bickman. I respect that.”
“Oh. Okay.” As screwed up as it was, my shoulders slumped a bit.
Grant leaned in to me and whispered, “The fact that you’re gorgeous is just a bonus.”
If I were a peacock, my feathers would have fanned. I smiled. “Thank you. My turn. Tell me something about you that I don’t know.”
I liked that he seemed to actually give it some thought, when he could’ve rattled off some business accomplishment. Instead he said, “I’m one of three children. We were all adopted from different families after being foster children.”
“Oh, wow. That’s really personal. I feel like I owe you more than a backflip now.”
Grant’s eyes dropped to my lips before returning to meet my gaze. “I’ll take whatever you want to give me.”
There were a million things I could’ve shared—that I have a scar on my torso from a bicycle accident when I was seven, that I sleep with the light on because I don’t like to be alone in the dark… Hell, I could have shared my bra size. Yet I had to go and share the most screwed-up thing about me.
“My father is in prison for killing my mother.”
Grant’s smile immediately fell. But while it affected him and changed the mood, there was no sign of surprise.
I blew out a stream of air and closed my eyes. “You already knew that, too, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “I pulled your file. We do extensive background checks on employees….”
I forced a consolatory smile. “Of course.”
Grant bumped his shoulder with mine. “But it still counts. I appreciate you sharing that with me.”
Thanks to my big mouth, the fun mood had been transformed to gloomy. Though a thought popped into my head that might change that. “So, if you pulled my file, does that mean you watched the offending video?”
Grant cleared his throat and looked forward. “I had to see what I was dealing with.”
I watched him for a second. He looked slightly uncomfortable with the direction I’d taken the conversation, which only made me want to take it further down that path.
Leaning in slightly, my voice registered lower. “Did you watch it more than once?”
Grant struggled a moment. He looked relieved when his cell phone rang.
Pulling it from his pocket, he read the name flashing on the screen. “Excuse me. I have to take this.”
He swiped. “What’s going on?”
I heard a woman’s voice on the other end, but couldn’t make out what she was saying.
“How long ago did he leave?”
The woman spoke louder. She sounded upset.
“Alright. I’m nearby. Don’t leave the house. I’ll find him.”
He swiped to end the call and leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Get off at the next exit. Make a right on Cross Bay and a left on Singleton.”
“Yes, sir.”
Grant blew out a jagged breath. He frowned. “I’m sorry. We need to make a detour.”
“Is everything okay?”
He shook his head. “My grandfather has dementia. He’s still in the early stages, but sometimes he takes off. My grandmother can’t handle him anymore by herself, but they also won’t let anyone help until things blow up. It’s the third time he’s gone missing in the last two months.”
“I’m sorry. That must be tough to deal with.”
“It wouldn’t be happening if they’d let the alarm installer do the job I hired him to do when he showed up at their house the other day. But they won’t even let me have someone put in a monitor so my grandmother could be alerted to a door opening while she’s sleeping.”
The driver got off at the exit and made the turns Grant had instructed him to make. Then Grant directed him into the side streets of a pretty exclusive area. The homes were all set back on sprawling front lawns, and one house was bigger than the next. He told the driver to slow down and put on his brights.
“This is their house. He usually takes the same path. Go to the end of the road and take a left and a quick right. Follow the winding path down to the water.”
“You sound like you have a pretty good idea where he’s heading,” I said.
Grant looked out the windows, searching as he spoke. “He always goes to the same place.”
A few minutes later, I spotted someone walking along the side of the road.
“There!” I pointed. “I see someone up ahead.”
Grant let out a deep breath. “That’s him.” He instructed the driver to pull up behind him slowly, and he jumped out of the car before it had even rolled to a complete stop.
I watched the interaction between the two men through the front window of the limo. Grant’s grandfather was dressed in a brown bathrobe and slippers. His hair was disheveled, and he turned around, seeming confused when the headlights caught his attention. But his entire face lit up as he shielded his eyes and got a look at the man stalking his way. He definitely recognized his grandson. He opened his arms wide and waited as a tuxedoed and clearly frustrated Grant approached.
I couldn’t help but smile when Grant gave in and let the old man swamp him in a hug. The two of them spoke for a minute, and then Grant led him back to the limousine.
Grant helped his grandfather climb in first.
The man smiled at me warmly as he took a seat. “Well, aren’t you pretty.”
Grant got in and pulled the door shut. He shook his head. “Don’t let the charm fool you. He’s a dirty old man.”
Grant’s grandfather laughed and winked at me. “He exaggerates. I’m not that old.”
“You gotta stop disappearing, Pops. It’s almost midnight.”
“I needed to see Leilani.”
“This late?”
“A man needs to see his girl when he needs to see his girl.”
Grant sighed. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll take you to Leilani, but you have to agree to let me put an alarm on the house tomorrow. You worry Grams when you disappear.”
Grant’s grandfather folded his arms over his chest. He reminded me of a little boy who was told he couldn’t have dessert until he ate all of his vegetables. “Fine.”
Grant ran his hand through his hair and turned to me. “Do you mind if we make another stop? It’s just down the road.”
“Of course not. Whatever you need to do.”
“Thank you.” He leaned forward to speak to the driver. “Head down to Castaway Marina, please.”
