Page 73 of Charm

Jameson shoots me a sly smile. “Something tells me you would be good with that.”

I don’t argue the point because he’s right.

I’d be more than happy to partner with Greer in any capacity for as long as she wants.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Greer

“That settles it.”Martha claps her hands together as her face beams bright with a smile. “Bruce and I will cash in all of our investments and become your silent partners. This is perfect, Greer. It’s just perfect.”

It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

“I…well…no, Martha.” I shake my head. Hard. “I can’t let you do that.”

Her head cocks to the left. “Why not?”

I could list a million reasons why it would be a bad idea, but I go with the first one that pops into my head. “I already have some leads on people who want to invest.”

I don’t bother mentioning that both of those people are my parents. When I bemoaned to them that I was on the hunt for a new business partner, they both got way too excited at the prospect of moving back to New York to work “hands-on” with me every single day.

I love my folks, but their lives are running smoothly, without the complications of spreadsheets, lost orders, and unhappy customers.

Besides, I need to find someone who has some business acumen so I’m not chasing after them about every decision they make.

“Is one of those people your lover?”

I’d cringe, but laughter is my first reaction. “Martha!”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Greer.” She drinks from the martini glass in her hand. “I’ve had lovers.”

Okay.

This conversation stops now.

Since we’re out in the small yard behind the house and Olive is already in bed, I can’t hold out hope that she’ll come racing in with a problem that needs to be solved in an instant. Bruce is out for a stroll, so he’s not going to rush to my rescue either.

“I can’t partner with him.” I sip from my glass.

If Martha were ever looking for a way to spend her evenings, she’d make bank as a bartender. This apple martini she made me is the best I’ve ever had. I decide to use that to steer the current conversation we’re having straight off the rails.

“This martini is divine, Martha.”

Her left eyebrow perks. “You told me that twice already, Greer. I know what an attempted diversion looks and sounds like.”

She tilts her chin toward me.

I pat her hand as if I’m chasing away a silly notion. “I was simply complimenting you on the great drink.”

“You were simply trying to get me to drop the subject of your lover.”

“Holden,” I spit out his name so she’ll stop referring to him that way. “His name is Holden.”

“He must be a good man. My money is on him being a strong man. He’s handsome, too, I bet?”

“You got all of that from his first name?” I finish what’s left in my glass, hoping that she’ll offer to make me another.

That doesn’t happen. She just smiles as I place the empty glass on the small white table set between our chairs. We’re in the corner of the yard near one of the two white lilac bushes Bruce planted the week after we moved in.

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