Page 65 of The Billionaire Is Back

“Exactly. Grady drove me home that night, and I thought we had a connection. It really felt like he liked me and I was a little bit drunk, so I tried to kiss him. And he pulled away. And it’s not that big of a deal now—I know it isn’t—but back then it was humiliating and it hurt because right before I tried to kiss him, I knew that I would have done anything he asked of me. That’s how much I wanted him. I would have dropped out of school and moved with him when he went to Wharton. I would have dropped everything for a boy I hadn’t even kissed.

“But he didn’t want me, or at least that’s what I thought, and so I built a life for myself in Beacon Harbor. I came up with new dreams and plans and goals that had nothing to do with him. And it’s all centered around my skills and my hometown. Not Grady. I filled that part of myself that would have dropped everything for him with all the things I care about that have nothing to do with him. Because no matter how much I kiss him, no matter how much he tries to help me, and no matter how much we might care about each other,” I lower my voice because I will always be as discreet as that busboy was with the tissues, “Grady Barber will always care about his ambitions more than he cares about anything or anyone else. And I tried to convince myself for twelve years that that made him a selfish asshole. But he isn’t an asshole. He isn’t selfish. His dreams are just toobig for Beacon Harbor.

“He might come back for his family or for Jake or for me. But he will always, always leave. He isn’t leaving the people behind—that’s the thing that I’ve realized. He’s just always moving toward something that no one else can give him. He will always want more. Even when he has me. So I know he would keep leaving me even if I followed him here. Or anywhere. It’s just who he is. And I don’t want to be left again. Not by him.”

The waiter brings our drinks to the table.

I sigh, clink glasses with Vera, who I am just now realizing has never been this silent in my presence for the entire time I’ve known her, aside from when she was asleep.

“Well, shit,” she finally mutters.

“But…” I take a sip of my virgin mojito before continuing. “This is all pretty great. I’ll enjoy it while I’m here. I mean, the last time I took anything even resembling a vacation was…”

“That time you drove out to Bangor to pick me up from the hospital in the middle of the night after I cut my hand on a broken bottle at a concert?”

I laugh, and a tiny little snot bubble forms under one of my nostrils. I hope Meg Ryan saw it. “Yeah. It was a nice drive. But this is definitely nicer.”

We hardly talk for the rest of the delicious meal. Surrounded by the hustle and bustle of the excellent waitstaff and all the other patrons at tables that are very close to each other, it’s easy to just take in the ambiance. Plus, I’ve just said all the things I’ve never wanted to say out loud and survived it, and that has made me very, very hungry. As if I’ve finally digestedsomething that’s been stored inside of me for over a decade. We forgo dessert, though, because Vera informs me that Dominique Ansel’s world-famous bakery is within walking distance from here, and if the line to get in is too long, she reminds me that I can order online and have it delivered to Grady’s place while I’m here.

“And,” she says, leaning in even closer after the waiter has brought the check, “promise me you’ll try to focus on the good stuff while you’re here, okay? One fun step at a time. Okay?”

I suppose. I suppose instead of putting up more walls to protect myself from Grady, I can concentrate on all the fun things that are pushing up against those walls. Or try to, at least, for Vera’s sake. “Sure. I’ll take one fun step at a time.”

“Good.” She grabs my hand as soon as I’ve signed for lunch. “Come on. Let’s go spend some more of your not-boyfriend’s money!”

I take some really fun steps as she leads me out of the restaurant, trying to embarrass her, but she struts like Beyoncé all the way down the block and I pretend not to know her. But I do know her. And she knows me. And I have to admit, so does Grady.

Chapter 17

Sixteen Love Handles

Claire

When Ted pulls upin front of Grady’s building on Park Avenue, I hug Vera for at least ninety seconds, thanking her and telling her I love her fourteen times before she finally kicks me out of the back seat.

“I’m not the one who flew us both out here, remember?” she says. “He’s the one you should be thanking.”

I give Ted a hug and thank him too and then introduce myself to the doorman. Hector carries the two shopping bags that Ted handed him inside. He uses the house phone to call Grady, ushers me through a beautiful, glossy Art Deco lobby to an elevator, and then escorts me up to the seventeenth floor. I am dying to ask him how many other women he’s escorted up to Grady’s penthouse, but I don’t. Because I don’t really want to know.

The elevator doors open onto a private landing. “After you, Miss Sweeney,” he says. “Mr. Barber is in hishome office. He asked me to bring your bags up and show you to the living room.”

“Oh, cool, thanks!” I step off the elevator, and then he opens a door to a big, open sun-filled gallery. High ceilings, lovely old parquet wood floors, and a sweeping staircase. Tall windows, a glass door to a terrace off to the side. “Holy shit,” I mutter. I guess I always pictured Grady in a dark, masculine loft. This is elegant. And huge. “Um. Should I take my shoes off?”

“Entirely up to you, miss. Mr. Barber does not require it.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”Stop acting like a sitcom nerd and start acting like the girlfriend of a billionaire.

“Right this way to the living room,” Hector says. “May I leave these bags here in the gallery?”

“Why, yes, absolutely.”

He places my department store bags on a long console table that looks like a more expensive version of one that I had been eyeing on the Wayfair website before I had to move back in with my parents.

Wowis what my inner sitcom nerd thinks to herself as she takes in the somewhat imposing architecture of the living room. Just wow.The decor is understated yet confident, inviting and somewhat comfortable. I love all the furniture and the art. It actually feels good to be in here. And now I’m starting to tear up again because this place reminds me of Grady. It has a beautiful and impressive design, but what’s inside is familiar and welcoming and maybe just a little too structured for my tastes…but it’s not off-putting.

“It’s just lovely” is what Isay out loud.

“It’s pleasant, isn’t it? Mr. Barber will be joining you shortly. His housekeeper has gone home for the day, but he did say to make yourself comfortable. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

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