Page 13 of Beauty and her Billionaire Beast
6
Knox
My forearms rest on the crisp white tablecloth at the front corner of Chez Maurice, Pops’ favorite fine dining restaurant. I examine my watch for the fourth time since I walked in, growing more impatient as each second ticks by. Pops is late for the dinner that he practically twisted my arm toshow up for. Ungluing my eyes from my timepiece, I stare out the window, fingers tapping on the tabletop as I look for his limo to pull up. There’s no point trying to text him. He’s old school when it comes to handheld technology. I’d be lucky if Morris Steele takes a phone call. But nobody’s perfect, and when it comes to my grandfather, there’s a lot more good to him than anythingelse.
He left his Long Island home of fifty-plus years and moved into my parent’s home to look after me after they died, opting to give me a sense of stability in a familiar place instead of uprooting me and taking me away from everything and everyone I knew. I’ll always be grateful to him for that. What I’m not too fond of is his intense need to control aspects of my life where no grandfather shouldhave a say over. Relationships, for example. I understand his intentions are good, that he only does it out of love, but I draw the line at that level ofmeddling.
I clear my throat and drum my fingers against the table. I know it’s rude. I’m just too annoyed to care. Especially as sitting inside some stuffy restaurant waiting for my grandfather to arrive wasn’t myidea.
As I wait,Isabelle enters my thoughts. It’s been a week since she bailed on me after we hooked up at the engagement party. We haven’t seen or heard from each other since, and I don’t blame her. I’ve done more than my share of walking out after a casual fuck session, and for the first time, it’s on me. Which is a damn shame because what we did blows my mind every fucking time I think about it. My dick twitchesanytime I picture her against that door. Her face was aglow with desire, eyes snapped shut, moaning that sweet sound each time I pounded into her. Her perfect little body flushed for me, and was so fucking responsive to my every touch, taste and tease. And her tight cunt, wet and so fucking snug around my dick. Fuck. One time with this woman and if I weren’t a stronger man, I’d be addicted.I guess her running out is mykarma.
“Knox, my boy. It’s good to see you, son.” My grandfather’s gritty yet cheerful voice carries through the air as he approaches me from the side of the restaurant. The softly lit pot lights in the ceiling above reflects of his full head of smoothed back silvery hair and deepens his light blue eyes. He squeezes my shoulder when he makes it to my side.“Have you orderedyet?”
“Hey Pops. No, I was waiting for you.” We do this every time we meet for a meal. It’s our routine, so he’s well aware that I wouldn’t dare order without him, but it seems like he can’t resist reliving old habits. That’s where we’re similar. We’re creatures of habit, clinging to traditions and actions that remind us of what we lost. Back when my parents were alive,the four of us would eat here every Thursday night. At this very table. Pops and I don’t meet as often as that, but not a month passes without at least one dinner together. I’m just grateful we’ve past the stage where being here without them brought back the good memories as well as theloss.
He unbuttons his blazer, pulls out the chair opposite me and takes a seat, studying my face moreintently than he normally does. “So…how has your week been?” he asks, but before I can answer, one of the servers stops at his side to offer us Pops’ usual brand of whiskey, Glenfiddich Private Vintage Single Malt. On the rocks. He has expensive tastes and the staff here make a point of paying attention to discerning patrons like him. I don’t doubt that as a well-respected entrepreneur, he entertainshis clients and associates right here at this same restaurant. Probably at this verytable.
“Where were we?” he asks, taking a generous sip from his glass once the server leaves and promises to return in a few minutes to take our food orders. He places the menu on the table and gives me a pointed look, waiting for me toreply.
“Catching up on the same old same old,” I tell him. “That’swhy we’re here, right? Ourusual?”
“Well, not quite.” The relaxed expression he walked in with leaves his face, replaced by a tighter, more closed-offlook.
“No? What’s up? Is this another one of your ‘It’s time to take on more responsibilities at Steele Industries’ talks?” I ask in a voice as low as his tends to become when he delivers one of his go-tolectures.
“It is andit’s not, son. Listen, just let me get this allout.”
“All whatout?”
“Son, I mulled over the best way to share this piece of news, and decided it would be better to talk about it here in public… so that we can both keep a level head and not get too wound up or emotional aboutit.”
“Emotional?” I shake my head at his suggestion. Other than rage inside the ring, I’m not thetype to wear my heart on my sleeves, not even with Pops, the only family member I have left in this world. “Whatever your news is, you can give it to me straight. You have nothing to worry about,” I reassurehim.
“It’s personal and it involves thebusiness…”
I narrow my eyes, waiting for him to spill it out. All these pregnant pauses and dropping of hints are only making me moreanxious. He never drags things out. My grandfather might be a lot of things, but he’s not one to keep me in suspense. I want him to get straight to thepoint.
“What’s going on?” I demand again and fold my arms across mychest.
Pops sucks in a deep breath and gives me an intense stare. I can’t help but feel that his next words will cut right into mysoul.
“It’s cancer,” hesays, his voice as low and calm as if he were announcing what he ate for breakfast. “Stage four. I’ve been fighting the good fight for a while, but my oncologist tells me I may lose before the lastround.”
Cancer, fighting for a while,losing...
Those words swirl violently around in my mind, not quite making sense. “Wait… what... you...” I stare at him, struggling for words and desperatelyhoping I heard him wrong. “You…Pops…what are yousaying?”
“I’m dying, Knox. If I’m lucky, I’ll have until the late fall. Give ortake.”
No, no, no. I shake my head and drop my elbows on the table. This can’t be true. There has to be some kind of mistake. He’s my only living relative. He can’t just accept this. I can’t. Iwon’t.
“There has to be something we can do. Some treatmentor new medicine, something experimental you haven’t tried yet? We’ll get a second opinion. I know a guywho—”
“Knox,” Pops says gently yet with enough force to cut me off. “I know this isn’t good news. My doctors have come at this from every possible angle. We’re out of options. There’s nothing more that can be done. Trust me, we’ve tried everything. God knows I tried…the things I endured,just to stick around to be here a while longer…to be here for you… It just isn’t in the cards, son. There’s no way out of this, but then, no one gets out of this life alive. I’m going to die. Well, we’re all going to die. I just have a clearer, more imminent sense of when that’llhappen.”
“But…” I try to speak but no words will come. The bottom has dropped out from my world. Again. Fromone second to the next, the foundation on which my life has been built since the age of twelve has just crumbled to shaky sand. My head is floating, the room is spinning, and I have no idea where I am anymore. I can’t think, I can’t speak, I can’t even feel. I’m completely fuckingnumb.
“I’m sorry, son.” He reaches an arm across the table and pats my forearm. Neither of us speaks for along time, and when Pops notices the waiter approaching again for our food order, he shakes his head, turning himaway.
