Page 49 of Just a Little Crush

I walked inside Grant’s office and closed the door behind me since nobody else needed to be privy to this conversation, before approaching his desk. Grant stood up and reached across his desk to shake my hand. He was an older man, probably close to the same age my father would have been, with distinguished graying hair and pale blue eyes that were filled with curiosity, and maybe a bit of concern, for my unscheduled visit.

“Caleb, it’s always great to see you, but this is unexpected,” he said, as he sat down in the leather chair behind his desk, and I settled into one across from him. “Is there an issue with your portfolio?”

“Not at the moment,” I said in a neutral tone. “But that will depend on how this meeting goes.”

Grant frowned, the concern in his eyes unmistakable. “I didn’t realize you were unhappy with our advice and management of your investments.”

“I wasn’t, until some recent events were brought to my attention, which have to do with your son, Mark.”

“Mark?” Grant repeated, looking thoroughly confused. “He’s only a junior advisor and doesn’t handle your investments.”

“Oh, I know that,” I said, then asked, “Are you familiar with the name Valerie Palmer?”

He grimaced. “Yes. Mark dated her for a while. I know they had a rocky breakup, which then started affecting her work here at the firm and we had to let her go. All the more reason to adopt a no-office-romance policy.”

The last bit was said with a bit of humor, and I didn’t care for the fact that the blame was laid on Valerie. “Is that what Mark told you? That she wasn’t able to do her job because of their breakup?”

Grant must have heard the thread of anger in my tone, because he sat up straighter, his demeanor tensing. “What does any of this have to do with your investments?”

“Good question, and I’ll get to that in a minute.” I gave him a tight smile. “Here’s what I know and believe, based on your son’s recent actions. He dated Valerie, but he was also abusive to her in that relationship—”

“Wait a minute,” Grant said, interrupting me. “That’s quite an accusation you’re making against my son.”

I didn’t back off, considering the proof against Mark…and then it occurred to me that Grant might not even know about his son’s less-than-sterling behavior. “Are you aware that Mark has a restraining order against him, filed by Valerie?”

Grant went quiet, but theoh shitlook on his face spoke volumes.

“If you didn’t know—because why would a grown man tell his father something embarrassing like that?—I can assure you that he does have a restraining order against him. And he’s violated it by stalking Valerie and contacting her by phone.”

“How do you know this?” Grant asked, his shock still apparent.

“Because Valerie’s sister, Stevie, is my girlfriend,” I told him. “And yesterday, your son assaulted Stevie outside her workplace after demanding to know where to find Valerie. She ended up with scrapes and bruises and a sprained wrist.”

Grant scrubbed a hand along his face and shook his head, looking appalled. “I…I had no idea.”

Sadly, I believed him, and I was glad that he didn’t try and make excuses for Mark’s behavior. However, that didn’t change the ultimatum I was about to issue. “Regardless, as much as I appreciate our working relationship and the firm’s management of my investments, if you don’t handle your son’s inability to stay away from Valerie and Stevie, I will have no issues pulling my portfolio and taking it elsewhere. And if I do that, you can be assured that my partner, Beck Daniels, will do the same, along with any other person I’ve recommended to this firm…which I’ll no longer be able to do when it employs such an unstable financial advisor.”

Much to Grant’s credit, he took my ultimatum seriously, probably because he realized how much he, and his firm, had to lose. “I’m very sorry about this,” he said, his apology genuine. “I know Mark has had anger issues stemming from my nasty divorce with his mother a few years ago, but I had no idea he’d abused Valerie.” The man visibly shuddered. “Or that he has a restraining order against him. You can rest assured I’ll take care of the issue immediately.”

Satisfied with his response, I stood up. “I hope you do. If Mark so much as tries to contact Valerie again, in any way, shape, or form, or approaches my girlfriend, Stevie, we’re done.”

Grant stood up, too, and nodded. “I understand.”

I reached across the desk and shook his hand again out of respect for our current relationship, then left his office, certain Grant would do everything in his power to make sure that his son didn’t fuck up one of the firm’s biggest accounts, and Mark left innocent women alone.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Stevie

After an exhaustingweek, between work and the incident with Mark—though Caleb hadn’t disclosed how he’d taken care of the issue and I really wasn’t sure I wanted to know the details—I was actually grateful for the weekend getaway at the Dune Deck Beach Club in the Hamptons that Caleb had planned for Owen’s birthday.

Caleb, Owen, Cara, and I had arrived Friday evening, with Remy and Raven driving separately and meeting us for dinner at a nearby restaurant before we all headed to the club to check in for the weekend. I shared a two-bedroom suite with Cara that had a breathtaking ocean view, while Caleb and Owen stayed in a similar room next to ours.

The exclusivity of the club wasn’t lost on me, and when we arrived that initial imposter syndrome was strong. It was difficult not to be aware of all the luxurious amenities, along with the caliber of upper-class and wealthy members who belonged to the club.

But just like at the gala, the fact that I was with Caleb Kane—a guest that the employees knew by name—there was an automatic acceptance. No one looked at me twice, or in any way that made me feel as though I didn’t belong, which made it much easier to relax and enjoy myself.

Saturday morning we all had breakfast together, then Caleb and Remy took Owen to a nearby family park for a few hours for a round of mini-golf and go-karting, while Raven insisted us girls enjoy a bit of pampering at the spa since my sprained wrist wasn’t conducive to handle those more challenging and fun games. We opted for pedicures, then met up with the boys for a bite to eat once they returned.

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