Chapter 2 - THE BOSS AT OUR TABLE
Julian entered wearing a dark navy suit and the controlled expression he used when he was already angry.
I had not seen my brother in almost two years.
Grant stepped forward with both hands extended.
“Mr. Cross. It’s an honor.”
Julian shook one hand and looked directly at me.
His eyes paused on the makeup around my cheek.
“Claire.”
Grant blinked. “You two have met?”
I answered before Julian could.
“Once, at a charity event.”
Julian understood immediately.
Grant was still dangerous because he believed he controlled the room. Revealing too much before I reached the hidden phone could turn him violent.
“Your wife made a strong impression,” Julian said.
Grant laughed and placed an arm around my waist. His fingers dug into the bruises beneath my cardigan.
“She can be charming when she wants to be.”
Julian watched my face.
“I’m sure.”
Dinner began with Grant performing the version of himself everyone admired. He praised his staff, talked about record sales, and described himself as a man who valued loyalty above everything.
Julian barely touched his food.
“How do you define loyalty?” he asked.
Grant smiled. “Standing behind someone even when things become difficult.”
“Does Claire stand behind you?”
“She doesn’t have much interest in business.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Grant’s fork stopped.
I looked down before he saw the satisfaction in my eyes.
He recovered quickly. “Claire has struggled emotionally since her mother died. I try not to burden her.”
“You told him that?” I asked.
Grant’s knee struck mine beneath the table.
“Honey, we’ve discussed this.”
Julian placed his napkin beside his plate.
“Discussed what?”
Grant gave a small, embarrassed laugh. “She gets confused when she’s stressed. Sometimes she remembers things differently.”
“Such as?”
“Arguments. Accidents. Money.”
The last word was deliberate.
Grant knew I had discovered withdrawals from my inheritance account. He had told me I authorized them during one of my “episodes.” When I demanded copies of the paperwork, he broke my laptop.
Julian leaned back.
“That sounds serious.”
“I protect her from herself.”
I saw my brother’s jaw tighten.
Grant saw it too, but misunderstood.
He thought Julian believed him.
After dinner, Grant led Julian toward the living room and poured expensive bourbon into two crystal glasses. I carried the coffee tray, keeping my movements slow and unthreatening.
The evidence phone waited beneath the cushion beside me.
“I’ve prepared a growth proposal,” Grant said. “With the right authority, I could double the western division.”
Julian remained standing.
“Before we discuss authority, I want to hear from Claire.”
Grant’s smile faded.
“About what?”
“Anything she wants.”
I reached toward the cushion.
Grant noticed.
His hand closed around my wrist.
“Claire needs to rest.”
Julian took one step forward.
“Let her go.”
Grant released me and forced a laugh.
“You don’t understand. She has episodes.”
“I said let her go.”
The room became still.
Grant looked from Julian to me, finally sensing something beneath the conversation.
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing you haven’t said yourself.”
His face changed.
The polished executive vanished.
“You ungrateful—”
May you like
His hand rose toward me.
Julian moved before the word was finished.
