Page 58 of Power Games

Again, he didn't need to reply.

"This time, I hope you'll listen to me. You're older. You're wiser. You know yourself. If that girl you were with is the one? Don't you dare think about the fact that people will hate you for it. You bring her home to your mama, and I'll make the pie. Got it?"

Thomas, unlike his wife, was a decent cook.

Charles knew he was going to have to ask Vanessa to come to Annapolis, but it had been an abstract idea at the back of his mind, something he'd do someday, in a few months, maybe a year or two.

He opened his personal laptop and found three emails from Vanessa. The first asked about his requirements for properties and sent a list of forty-one options. "Let me know what you're after and I'll narrow it down. I'll visit them, and get back to you when you have three strong choices at most."

The second email informed him that she'd start to make an inventory of the contents of his apartment and pack it up if he could mail her the keys and let the doorman know.

The last email addressed his most pressing concern. It was a link to the site of an event manager who specialized in formal affairs. "If you want to deal with it yourself, call Wendy, but I can do it. I got in touch with Claudia, Isabella's friend; she can help me. Just let me know."

Vanessa had gotten in touch with Claudia? How hadn't that ended in a catfight, with a volley of insults screeched so loud he would have heard them from the other side of the city? He couldn't imagine why the woman had agreed to help her.

He'd entered another dimension.

From:Charles A. Grant

To: Vanessa N. McNamara

How the hell did you set up all this in five hours?

I'll pick the flowers, and write a speech for the funeral. We can't fix a date yet. As for the rest, I'll leave it in your hand (and Claudia's?? How did that happen?)

I'm not fussy. A townhouse in the same area, three rooms or more, an office. I don't particularly like modern architecture.

As for the keys, I'll leave them with the doorman."

"Thank you. That's a weight off my shoulder."

He paused there.

The 'thank-you’ didn't seem sufficient, but he left it at that. What else could he say? She wasn't doing all that out of the goodness of her heart, because she realized how overwhelmed he was, and how much he needed someone to make it go away for him.

She'd done it because she had an agenda. Because she wanted to look good, not because she cared.

She cares, he told himself. She hadn't befriended him with a master plan in mind, not at the start. He held on to that knowledge. They were here today because at some point, Vanessa had decided she cared.

He ended up sending his email as it was.

Her reply came quickly.

From:Vanessa N. McNamara

To: Charles A. Grant

I have an assistant. It helps. I’ll tell you about Claudia over the phone. It wasn’t that bad. And as I'm staying at my dad's, trust me when I say I want to stay busy. Don't worry about it.

Talk soon.

23

Peace

"Remind me how much you're paying me again?"

"Not enough," she admitted, grimacing at the ocean of bags before their eyes.

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