Page 103 of If You Give a CEO a Chance

I cross my arms, narrowing my eyes at my grandmother. “What are you doing here?”

She ignores me in favor of addressing Walter. “Why are you standing here?” she snaps. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“He’s my friend,” I interject defensively.

Walter waves me off. “It’s alright, Miss Fallon. I have a few things to take care of, so I’ll be at my desk if you need me.” He gives me a backward glance as he walks away.

Grandmother sighs. “I thought the insufferable man would never leave.”

“How did you find me, and more importantly, what do you want?”

She taps my shin with the end of her cane. “Don’t talk to your grandmother that way.”

I grit my teeth, struggling to process that she is actually here. The last time I saw her was over a year ago at one of Theo’s restaurants. She had been on a date with a retired stockbroker, and when I politely introduced myself, she acted like we’d never met and thanked me for the meal. We haven’t talked since, which leads me to question how she knew I was here.

As I release a deep breath, I adjust the grocery bag on my shoulder. “Grandmother, I have plans, so can you please get on with why you’re here?”

“It’s shameful that you ignored my calls, but you’ve always been disrespectful,” she huffs. “I had to reach out to Theo’s assistant to check in and imagine my surprise when she told me that you quit your job to become a private chef and moved to the States. Thankfully, she was kind enough to track down your whereabouts.” She fusses with her gold-and-silver scarf, resembling tinfoil more than couture. Grandmother might have money, but she’s never had style.

I let out an exasperated sigh. “You came all this way to comment about my new job?”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t be more of a disappointment, you make another disastrous decision.”

I almost believed I overexaggerated how bad things were between us, but then she shows up and proves me wrong.

“If I’m such a failure, why bother visiting?”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m in New York for the weekend visiting a friend and decided to stop by since you wouldn’t return my calls. You’re worse off than I thought. What a shame. At least you’re working for someone wealthy. Are you making as much as you did working with Theo? With him, there was a chance you’d manage your own restaurant someday. Now you’re just a personal chef, cooking like a glorified housekeeper. Hardly the career you envisioned for yourself, right?”

Grandmother has a way of dragging up old insecurities I’ve spent years pretending didn’t exist. She knows just how to twist the knife for maximum damage, smiling all the while.

The irony is, even when I worked with Theo, she disapproved. To her, being a chef was an embarrassment, and it didn’t align with the prestige she wanted me to project.

I think the real issue is that my mother wanted to be a chef, and the fact that I chose to follow in her footsteps bothers Grandmother more than anything.

“I appreciate your concern, but I’m doing just fine on my own,” I say, deflecting her question.

She scoffs. “I don’t buy it, Elizabeth. You used to go on and on about owning your own restaurant someday, and look at you, resigned to slumming it as a cook. It could be worse. At least you’re not a waitress like your mother.” I bristle at her insult. “You’re just like her—dreaming big, but never going anywhere.”

I lift my chin, my fingers curling into the grocery bag still on my shoulder. “My mother was hardworking and taught me more about strength and resilience than you’ll ever understand. I’d be lucky to be half the woman she was.”

Why is it that I can easily go toe-to-toe with a CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company, but my grandmother throws me off-balance? She has an uncanny ability to make me feel small and insignificant, even as an adult.

This time is different.

She crossed a line when she insulted my mother, and there’s no chance I was going to let her get away with that.

Grandmother sighs. “It’s a shame you’re as much of a disappointment as she—”

“You need to leave.” Harrison’s voice startles me, and I glance over to where he’s standing near the entrance, his gaze narrowing in on my grandmother. “It’s time for you to go,” he repeats.

“How dare you speak to me like that.” Grandmother shakes her cane at him. “I’m the second cousin of the prime minster of England, and I demand respect.”

Harrison glares at her, causing her to recoil. His gaze meets mine, silently confirming that I’m okay. “Lady, I wouldn’t give a shit if you were royalty. You won’t come into my place of residence and speak to my woman like that.”

His woman? I like the sound of that.

He comes to stand beside me, taking my hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. He’s a physical anchor, holding me steady when I need it most. I like this protective side of him. Like he’d burn the world down to protect me, even from a bitter old woman with a cane.

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