Page 61 of Daddy's Game

“Oh, Grace, don’t cry. What’s there to cry about?”

“So many things, Brock. So many things. You said…you said…you know what you said.”

I squeezed her hand gently.

“I told you I loved you. And I meant it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

She smiled, though it was through slow but steady tears.

“Oh, Brock. You could have any woman you wanted.”

“You’re the one I want to be with, though.”

“Damn it, you’re not making this easy.”

She covered her face with her hands and made a frustrated growl. Then she wiped her hands down her face and looked me dead in the eye.

“I love you too, Brock. But I’m afraid of these feelings because they’re so new, and so huge, and…”

“There’s nothing that should hold us back, Grace. You’re brilliant, beautiful, challenging, and hard-working. I’ve never met anyone as passionate as you are about the center.”

“The center you want to buy out from underneath me.”

I took her hand in both of my own.

“No, not anymore. I’m not your enemy, Grace. I don’t want the corner lot. I only want you. You’re the woman for me–”

“Shut up.”

She sniffled and looked at me.

“Just shut up. You got me, all right? You got me.”

I leaned in and kissed her tears away.

23

GRACE

Istared at the cell phone in my hand, watching as three dots danced. Texting with Brock had become as natural as breathing. Even if we were too busy to be together physically, or even to call each other on the phone, we could at least shoot off a few lines of text to each other.

I’m about to go into the board meeting. Love you.

My heart fluttered as I read Brock’s text.

Love you too.

My smile faded as I put the phone in my purse. Texting with Brock may have put me in a good mood, but my upcoming meeting was almost guaranteed to end on a sour note.

I liked Nathan Gray, but I was losing more and more faith in him as time went by. I knew he wanted to help, but his poor performance at the zoning board meeting made me wonder if my savior was going to be able to pull through.

I sat ensconced in a booth at a small coffee shop down the street from my performing arts center. The coffee in my mug tasted fine, but…

I guess when you’ve had Italian coffee in Italy, the imitation doesn’t hit the same.

I spotted Nate coming in the door, and he wasn't alone. A long-haired man with a beard just this side of Hillbilly length but dressed in a nice suit accompanied him. When I saw the camouflage briefcase, I cringed on the inside.

Oh no. Not a hippie lawyer…

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