Page 1 of Fairy Tale Lies
Chapter One
Greta Meier dashed down the carpeted hallway of Swift Financial, ignoring the agony of power walking in three-inch heels. That pain was minuscule compared to the dread pooling in her stomach. She’d lost track of time. Again.
Sure, she’d managed to fix the in-house software issue but, meanwhile, had forgotten the new client meeting. Glancing at her tiny gold Rolex, she groaned. Less than five minutes to make it to the other end of the building.
She could picture her boss’s disappointed face, made all the more stressful because it was her father. The image had Greta quickening her pace to a near sprint.
Rounding the final corner, she sighed. The large glass doors were propped open. Relief calmed some of her anxiety. She wasn’t late.
Inside the conference room, her assistant Rae motioned to the empty seat next to her. Greta nodded and skated alongside the outermost edges of the table, wishing she were smaller, invisible.
She hoped no one noticed her near tardy arrival. The last thing she wanted was to come across as the empty-headed daughter of the boss. Someone who’d gotten the internship through nepotism. Therefore, any misstep ate at her confidence like termites to wood.
She took her seat next to Rae and tried to squash her rampant doubts. Running a shaky hand over her chignon, she made sure every hair was in place.
“Where’s Allen?” Greta glanced around the table while needlessly straightening the collar of her pale, pink blouse. Realizing she was fidgeting, putting her anxiety on full display, she stilled and met Rae’s gaze.
She handed the client folder Greta hadn’t had time to open and sighed. “Another virus was detected on Blake’s computer. He demanded we fix it, like yesterday. Allen’s working on it.”
Greta accepted the portfolio, her worry shifting to annoyance. She didn’t want to talk about her ex-fiancé, much less be reminded he was in-house counsel. Before their breakup, they hardly ran into each other at work. Now Blake kept inventing problems with his PC and contacting the IT department. Rae and Allen found it hilarious, but Greta despised the drama. It made her and Blake appear unprofessional.
Refusing to meet Rae’s playful smile, Greta peered down the table at her father. His back was to a large window with its blinds pulled. The leaves from the giant elm and oak trees swayed in a lazy breeze, helping to block Michigan’s hot summer sun from the room. She’d love to be out there, relaxing in the shade, free of stress, enjoying her summer.
Her gaze zeroed back in on her father, and the usual mixture of pride and discontent filled her. She understood he only wanted the best for her, but sometimes his rigidness was stifling. Carrying her father’s expectations and possible disappointment of her was a heavy burden to shoulder.
Thankfully, he hadn’t noticed her near-late arrival time. There’d be no displeased glances, no lectures concerning punctuality. He appeared distracted, deep in conversation with a man she assumed was a new client.
She gave an inward sigh of relief, allowing some of her distress to dissolve. Father’s career talks turned back the clock, and suddenly she was closer to seven than twenty-seven. Enjoying the reprieve, she relaxed into her seat and studied the client. He sat sideways, elbow propped on the table, large hand covering most of his face as he talked with her father. There was something familiar in the set of the client’s broad shoulders and his inky black hair.
Inexplicably, her heart began to race. Watching him filled her with trepidation and an unexpected yearning.
Her father faced the room, pulling her gaze from the stranger to the wall clock. Yup, ten on the dot. A meeting never started late.
She glanced back at the client and choked on an exhale, her heart plummeting. He’d dropped his hand and was facing forward.
It can’t be him.
Her heart skipped with joy. Then promptly flooded with dread.
“You okay?” Rae whispered. Her voice sounded far away, wrapped in fog.
Greta couldn’t answer because the client’s familiar icy-blue gaze had locked on hers. His eyes widened in recognition.
He was clean-shaven, and today his hair was neat and combed back, but there was no mistaking him.Jacob.
He had one of those striking faces, impossible to forget. The memories of the way those bedroom eyes had heated as he’d taken in her naked body, or how those full lips had ravished her, made him unforgettable.
However, she wished he’d slip from her memory and the conference room. Whatever his reason for being here wouldn’t be good for her.
“Good morning. Let me introduce Mr. Jacob Grimm.”
Hearing his name, he turned toward her father, allowing her to breathe.
Rae nudged Greta, probably waiting for an answer. Too bad. She was admitting nothing.
“He runs Rework, a business repairing and refurbishing antiques. We’re taking it to the next level,” continued her father. “He plans on opening a brick-and-mortar shop in Detroit and developing a better online presence.”
Business owner? No, no, no.
