Page 21 of For Love & Torture
Chapter 11
Isabel
The hours have passed since we opened the doors of The Dungeon of Decorum for the first time. And they’ve passed since Grant and I exchanged words. My mind has run the gamut of emotions, all of them running through me like a rushing river.
I don’t recall ever feeling this much pain before. I don’t feel it for myself—not at all—but for Grant. The poor man has something so deep going on inside of him and it’s tearing at his soul.
How could such a strong man be that damn weak in any area?
I don’t understand it and don’t know if I want to. What darkness is behind the man?
And why do I love him so damn much?
Taking a seat at my desk, I open up my laptop. Maybe I can do a search on his name and get some idea of what has him so messed up.
I know his mother is dead and that her death has everything to do with his emotional problems, but how did she die?
Just as I click open the search engine, my door opens, and there he stands. I see the dark bags under his eyes as he takes off his mask. I can tell he’s been beating himself up over how he’s treated me. I want him to stop, his sub-conscious wants him to stop, but he just won’t let himself.
“Hey, I just want you to know I’m really thankful for you staying in here. I mean it.” Grant’s dark blue eyes move from mine to the laptop that’s open in front of me. He walks in, still looking at it.
I close it and look at the thing he’s coming to see me about, trying to think up an excuse for why my computer was open. Going into business mode, I forge ahead to show him I can move on, that I’m not going to let myself be stuck in a depression over him. Even if I am faking it.
“I was going to reread the contract we came up with. I think it might need tweaking for each couple,” I tell him. “We’ve had a couple of people come in already for contracts, and one of them asked for things that aren’t in there. I think I’ll make some areas in the contract that can be tailored for each couple. Does that sound like a good idea?”
“Yeah, it does.” He takes a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of my desk. “You okay?”
With a light chuckle, I answer his vague question, “Are any of us?”
He sighs and leans back in the chair. “Not really.”
The light way we’re talking makes me feel better, and it seems to be making him feel better too. He and I get along so well when it’s just the two of us—so long as we’re not talking about our relationship, or lack thereof.
I don’t know if that’s good or bad, I just know it is what it is.
“We have a crowd of three hundred and two tonight. Not bad for a grand opening of a private club, boss.” I pull open the bottom drawer where I still have some Scotch hidden and take out two glasses. I place them on the desk, fill them both and push one over to him. “We should have a drink and make a toast to the success of your little dream.”
His smile is devastating as he takes the glass, lifting it up. “To many years of success together.”
I clink my glass against his. “To a fruitful business endeavor.”
We each take a drink then put the short crystal glasses back down on the desk. “Did you buy that for this occasion, Isabel?”
“Maybe.” I wink at him, trying to keep things light. They seem to be working better that way after all.
“Great choice. And one that’s none too cheap. Macallan eighteen-year-old Scotch is pricey—you can’t afford that, can you?” He chuckles as he pushes his big hand through his thick salt and pepper hair.
“My boss pays me well. I can handle the cost of some good liquor, thanks to him.” Putting the glass to my lips once more, I inhale the scent before I take another sip. I need it more than ever to keep pulling off this act.
As nice as it is to be getting along with Grant, it’s hard as hell not to want to crawl right into his lap, throw my arms around his neck and kiss those full lips of his that send me to a place no one else’s ever have.
But that might bring this nice time with him to an end so I won’t be doing that. And my door is now wide open as well. That would look so unprofessional if anyone came to see me.
But damn, it would feel so fucking good to do just that.
“I and the other owners are going out for breakfast once we close.” He taps his fingertips on the desk next to his drink. “You coming?”
“Are you inviting me to join you all?” I’m elated to be invited by him. But I’m not showing it. I don’t want to spook the man.
