Page 76
Story: The Princess and the Fraud
My stomach dropped. Pierre’s was a rooftop restaurant, and known for its almost severe exclusivity. Walk-ins were not a thing, which meant that I, a no-one from Addison, would be turned away on sight.
“What’s your plan?” Grant asked, as if seeing my downward spiral with me. “Follow them up there? You think they won’t see you, at the hostess station waiting for a table? Do you even think you’ll be allowed in looking like that?”
I glared at Grant. “Youwouldn’t get in either. Not with jeans.”
Grant tilted his head. “So, what are we doing?”
“We—” I gestured between us. “—are not doing anything. I used you as my ride. I’ll figure it out from here.”
Honestly, though, whathadI been thinking? Had I planned to storm into wherever Caroline and Aaron had a reservation for, plop down beside them, and order the avocado toast? The decision to follow them had been so impulsive with no rational thought involved. I was going to get myself fired from Alderton-Du Ponte because I didn’t think through my knee-jerk decisions?
In that moment, I couldn’t shake the resentment—at Grant, for being dumb; at Aaron, for being heartbreaking; at myself, for consistently making situations worse.
“When did you even find out about Caroline’s reservation?” I asked him. “Didn’t you just get in last night?”
“I called her last night. After I ran into you at the elevator.”
Wait, so he called Caroline after seeing me—and Caroline didn’t call me? Something else occurred to me, far too belated. “Did you talk to Mr. Roberts about the elevator?”
Grant frowned in confusion. “Did I tell your boss I ran into you?”
“No, I mean—did you tell Mr. Roberts about the elevator being locked? That Paige locked it with Aaron and me inside?”
“No.”
I stared at him, scanning his expression.
“I didn’t. When would I even have had the chance to?”
I couldn’t tell if he was lying—I never thought he was a good liar, but he’d hidden his second relationship from me. I couldn’t trust my judgment with him. Did Mr. Roberts just make up theinfluential guestto take the blame off himself for firing Paige? I wouldn’t have put it past him. More likely, someone checked the security footage, caught the mistake, and forced his hand before the board found out.
Grant lifted his chin. “I heard Aaron Astor has a girlfriend.”
Heard it from Caroline. “He does.”
“But he called himself your fiancé last night.”
My jaw ached, and it took me a second to realize I was clenching it. I refused to have that conversation with him—he’d twist it into Aaron pretending so I could make him jealous. I just knew it. “Listen,” I began, drawing in a breath and forcing myself to meet Grant’s gaze. “I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t… want to be angry with you. Even though it’s late, I appreciate your apology. But I can’t go back to how things were. And I don’t want there to be any miscommunication about that.”
Grant’s eyes were so sad. The blue depths seemed brighter, as if the tears were bottled up in their color. “If I’d come earlier, would you have said the same thing?”
Probably not, I didn’t say. If Grant had come that weekend in September, like he’d claimed he’d tried to do, things might’ve been different. “We’ll never know.” I sat back in my seat. “I’m sorry you had to waste gas, but can you drive me back to Alderton-Du Ponte?”
Grant didn’t reach for the gearshift. He still faced me, drawing in a shaky breath. “I wasn’t just sitting around these past six months,” he said. “I was working.”
“Cool.”
“I put all my paychecks into my savings,” he went on in the same semi-urgent tone. “My parents gave me a good chunk of Christmas money, too. I put that away.”
I squinted at him from the corner of my eye. “Is this ‘brag about our bank accounts hour,’ or?—”
“I don’t have a lot, but we could go in on it together.”
Okay, maybe I should’ve just gotten a rideshare back to Addison if he was going to talk nonsense. “In onwhat?”
“Your mother’s dream house.”
It was like everything went quiet. Even the investment banker on the radio seemed dumbstruck, going mute. I slowly turned my head toward Grant. His eyes were still fiercely blue, but now glowed from within. It was hope that’d sparked in his eyes, chasing away any sadness that’d been there a moment ago. He looked at me as if he’d just flashed his trump card, his ace in the hole, and thought,ah, yes, this will change her mind.
“What’s your plan?” Grant asked, as if seeing my downward spiral with me. “Follow them up there? You think they won’t see you, at the hostess station waiting for a table? Do you even think you’ll be allowed in looking like that?”
I glared at Grant. “Youwouldn’t get in either. Not with jeans.”
Grant tilted his head. “So, what are we doing?”
“We—” I gestured between us. “—are not doing anything. I used you as my ride. I’ll figure it out from here.”
Honestly, though, whathadI been thinking? Had I planned to storm into wherever Caroline and Aaron had a reservation for, plop down beside them, and order the avocado toast? The decision to follow them had been so impulsive with no rational thought involved. I was going to get myself fired from Alderton-Du Ponte because I didn’t think through my knee-jerk decisions?
In that moment, I couldn’t shake the resentment—at Grant, for being dumb; at Aaron, for being heartbreaking; at myself, for consistently making situations worse.
“When did you even find out about Caroline’s reservation?” I asked him. “Didn’t you just get in last night?”
“I called her last night. After I ran into you at the elevator.”
Wait, so he called Caroline after seeing me—and Caroline didn’t call me? Something else occurred to me, far too belated. “Did you talk to Mr. Roberts about the elevator?”
Grant frowned in confusion. “Did I tell your boss I ran into you?”
“No, I mean—did you tell Mr. Roberts about the elevator being locked? That Paige locked it with Aaron and me inside?”
“No.”
I stared at him, scanning his expression.
“I didn’t. When would I even have had the chance to?”
I couldn’t tell if he was lying—I never thought he was a good liar, but he’d hidden his second relationship from me. I couldn’t trust my judgment with him. Did Mr. Roberts just make up theinfluential guestto take the blame off himself for firing Paige? I wouldn’t have put it past him. More likely, someone checked the security footage, caught the mistake, and forced his hand before the board found out.
Grant lifted his chin. “I heard Aaron Astor has a girlfriend.”
Heard it from Caroline. “He does.”
“But he called himself your fiancé last night.”
My jaw ached, and it took me a second to realize I was clenching it. I refused to have that conversation with him—he’d twist it into Aaron pretending so I could make him jealous. I just knew it. “Listen,” I began, drawing in a breath and forcing myself to meet Grant’s gaze. “I don’t want to argue with you. I don’t… want to be angry with you. Even though it’s late, I appreciate your apology. But I can’t go back to how things were. And I don’t want there to be any miscommunication about that.”
Grant’s eyes were so sad. The blue depths seemed brighter, as if the tears were bottled up in their color. “If I’d come earlier, would you have said the same thing?”
Probably not, I didn’t say. If Grant had come that weekend in September, like he’d claimed he’d tried to do, things might’ve been different. “We’ll never know.” I sat back in my seat. “I’m sorry you had to waste gas, but can you drive me back to Alderton-Du Ponte?”
Grant didn’t reach for the gearshift. He still faced me, drawing in a shaky breath. “I wasn’t just sitting around these past six months,” he said. “I was working.”
“Cool.”
“I put all my paychecks into my savings,” he went on in the same semi-urgent tone. “My parents gave me a good chunk of Christmas money, too. I put that away.”
I squinted at him from the corner of my eye. “Is this ‘brag about our bank accounts hour,’ or?—”
“I don’t have a lot, but we could go in on it together.”
Okay, maybe I should’ve just gotten a rideshare back to Addison if he was going to talk nonsense. “In onwhat?”
“Your mother’s dream house.”
It was like everything went quiet. Even the investment banker on the radio seemed dumbstruck, going mute. I slowly turned my head toward Grant. His eyes were still fiercely blue, but now glowed from within. It was hope that’d sparked in his eyes, chasing away any sadness that’d been there a moment ago. He looked at me as if he’d just flashed his trump card, his ace in the hole, and thought,ah, yes, this will change her mind.
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