Page 83 of Charm

Her gaze trails over my face. “What did you just do, sir?”

“I made sure that you’ll get home in time to enjoy some of your evening.” I point toward the elevator. “The car will be in front of the building in less than five minutes. Your driver is named Atticus. Point him in the right direction and he’ll get you there in good time.”

She steps toward me as though she’s about to hug me, but she stops short. “Thank you, sir.”

“Holden,” I remind her. “It’s Holden.”

“Right.” She grins. “If you’re looking for Jameson, he’s left for the day.”

I’m not surprised.

I’ll break the news of the lost Sweet Indulgence deal to him tomorrow. For tonight, I’ll clear my desk of old business. It’s the best way I know to get my mind off of Greer for at least an houror two since all I want to do is reach out to her, so I can hear her voice one last time tonight.

CHAPTER FIFTY

Greer

I tiea pink ribbon around the base of Olive’s ponytail. “All done.”

“Is it nice?” she asks, tugging on the end of it. “I hope it’s nice, Mommy.”

“The ponytail is perfect,” Bruce says as he stands in the doorway of Olive’s room. “The dress is, too.”

“Do I look fancy enough, Grandpa?” She spins in a circle, showing off her light blue dress. “I know the museum is a fancy place.”

I hide a smile behind my hand because my daughter loves a day trip to any of the museums in the city. It’s not just that she’s fascinated by the art. Olive loves to people watch.

“You look like a young lady who is going to show her grandpa the sights and sounds of the museum today,” he tells her. “I’m very proud to be going there with such a smart and well-dressed girl.”

That brings a big smile to her lips. “You look good too, Grandpa.”

Bruce skims a hand over the front of his short-sleeved checkered shirt. “Thank you.”

“Can we get something for lunch after?” she asks with a sly smile. “Maybe something round with some little pepperonis on it?”

“We have to get pizza,” he insists. “It’s our tradition now, isn’t it?”

She rushes over to hug him. “I love our traditions, Grandpa. I love you.”

I watch their tender embrace, grateful that my ex-husband’s parents stepped into a situation that their son ran from.

The day Olive was born, Bruce and Martha lost a son because he wasn’t ready to be a father. They tried to talk to Aaron about the joys of being a parent, but he wanted nothing to do with it.

He stormed out of their lives just as they stepped into mine to help me in any way they could. They’ve reconnected with Aaron since, but they’ve never wavered in their devotion to Olive.

“Can you meet us for pizza, Mom?” Olive glances at me. “Or we can bring some to the store for you.”

I was planning on spending the majority of my day in New Jersey at our production facilities, but if I stay in Manhattan for the morning, I can make a few calls. It’s time for me to reach out to people who I think may be interested in buying Krista’s share of the business.

It’s a short list given that I need to be comfortable working with them, but there’s potential there.

Considering that the museum they’re headed to doesn’t open until ten-thirty, I know my daughter will be more than ready for pizza by noon. “At noon?”

Bruce nods in agreement. “We’ll bring some sodas, and apple juice for Olive.”

She scrunches her nose. “Good because the bubbles in soda tickle my nose.”

I gather up her hairbrush and the rest of the package of hair elastics from the foot of her bed. “I hope you have a fun morning, you two.”