Page 26 of Daddy's Billionaire Broker

GRACE

Hiding out in my room most of Sunday and Monday didn’t do me any good at all. My thoughts simply raced in circles, and no amount of pacing, reading, journaling or staring at the wall helped. Especially since I could hear whispered fighting going on downstairs most of the time.

Forcing myself to shower and get dressed, I opened my door to see Mom's hand in midair, about to knock.

"Hi, honey. I was hoping that you'd join us for dinner tonight so that we could talk things out."

"I'm going out for a while, but sure, I'll come down for a minute." I slung on my purse, grabbed my jacket, and followed her to the dining room. Dad was already there with a stony look on his face.

The urge to get out of the house was overwhelming. I didn't want to listen to whatever they had to say. I had to figure this out on my own.

"Let's cut to the chase," I said, dropping into a chair between them. "You're divorcing, or separating, or whatever. I'm fine with that. As long as it's civilized, and you take care of each other, and don’t ask me to take sides."

They both stared back and forth between me and each other. "Well," Dad began slowly, "I'm sure you have some questions—"

Everything came to me with sudden, vivid clarity. "No, I don't. You got married when you were both twenty, and had no idea what you wanted out of life. So you both took the easiest possible route. Mom was a homemaker who really wasn't into it, and you—" I turned to Dad. "Bounced around at jobs that you weren't really happy with because you never took the time to think about what you really wanted."

I tried to keep my voice level. "But you took your chances, and did what you thought was right at the time. Now I want to do what I think is right. For me, that means dating an older man who treats me really well."

Mom was beaming. "He's wonderful, really, Grace. I'm so happy for you."

"He won't want you to have a career of your own," Dad said. "All of his colleagues have wives who are ladies who lunch, socialites, run charities, and have plenty of children."

"Well, the neat thing about that," I said as I stood up, "is that I'm a grown woman and can do whatever I want. Right now, I want to leave this house and clear my head. Don't wait up."

Mom rarely drove her car, but had given me permission to use it whenever I wanted. I hopped in and began driving aimlessly, trying to think of somewhere to go.

I ended up at the barcade that Jack had taken me to Friday night. As I ordered some cheese popcorn and settled down at a tabletop game, I realized that time seemed off kilter.

It felt like I'd been here just last night. It felt like Jack and I had been together for at least a week, and apart for a month.

I wanted him. After six rounds of killing pixelated invading space ships and running out of popcorn, I realized that was the only thing that mattered. I didn't care if me being with Jack thrilled my Mom, or made his coworkers roll their eyes. I needed him.

His touch, his laughter, the way that he looked at me as if I were the most important person in his world. Everything just clicked. We were right for each other, and the rest of the world could, frankly, stuff it.

Standing up, I turned toward the door and was blocked by a wide expanse of black shirt. An arm slipped around my waist to keep me from falling, and I didn't even have to look up to know that it was Jack.

His tender touch, his scent…it felt like I was home.

"Baby." His eyes searched mine.

"Stalking me?" I asked, unable to hold back a giggle.

"No. Searching for you. I went to your house and you were gone." I could tell from his expression that he had been genuinely upset.

"I just went for a drive and ended up here."

He looked down at the empty popcorn bowl. "Do you need more?"

"No, thanks."

Jack led me to a table at the back, as a group of slightly rowdy teenagers gathered around the games at the front of the room.

He sat beside me, then turned to face me, holding my hands in his. "Grace, I don't know why I've been so paranoid about having a mid-life crisis. This is the opposite of that. It’s a mid-life moment of clarity."

His thumb grazed my skin lightly, sending a warm prickle up my spine. "I don't care what other people think. If they think that I'm dating a younger woman to prove that I'm young and virile or whatever, let them. You know that I want you because you're you."

"Even if I want my own career?" I asked softly. "I don't want to be just a trophy wife. I don't want to work on charity projects with the other corporate wives simply to fill my time."

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