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Heather was chuckling when she handed him the latest report from the PR agency. “Looks like you have competition for Blaire’saffections.”
“What are you talking about?” Grant scowled. The mere idea of someone else vying for his woman’s affections made him furious enough to bend acrowbar.
“Luca Morelli just tweeted to his followers for suggestions on how to courtBlaire.”
“That fucker,” Grant growled. Luca Morelli was the head of Mediterranean Shipping Lines, a legitimate enterprise owned by the Morelli crime family. To his knowledge, the man’s nose was clean, but everyone knew his brothers ran the Italianmafia.
“Do you want me to tell your publicist to draft a response on your official twitter account?” Heatherasked.
“No, I’ll handle it myself.” He had some past dealings with Morelli and had the man’s private number, so Grant called him and told him to fuckoff.
Just as Grant suspected, the mafia prince wasn’t really serious, but was just a limelight hog with a big ego and apologized for using Grant’s engagement to Blaire as a social mediastunt.
Other than the thirty percent of women not approving of Grant for Blaire, the rest were enthralled with their love affair. Because of the interest in their relationship, Gus sent Andy to Manhattan to temporarily work out of Grant’s office so he’d be available to advise the couple on political etiquette should the need arise, especially since they’d received several dinner invitations from New York politicians like the governor andmayor.
Even if he knew Andy was acting in an official capacity, he didn’t like it when he came home to the penthouse to find him spending time with Blaire. He heard their laughter just when the elevator doors opened. Tyler was sitting at the bar, Blaire and Andy were busy pouring over anewspaper.
“Are you sure that’s not gossip, Andy?” Blairelaughed.
“It’s actually true. That’s why there’s tension in city hall rightnow.”
His fiancée’s eyes lit on Grant and he was gratified to see her jump up from her comfy seating with Andy and greet him at thefoyer.
“What are you two gossiping about?” Grant murmured, kissing her on thelips.
“Andy is giving me the inside scoop on city hall,” Blaire said. “It’s rumored that the mayor’s mistress is the city council speaker. He’s giving me pointers on how to tactfully navigate the sticky situation for The Prestigeexhibit.”
“We can just scrap them from the guest list,” Grantsuggested.
Andy gave a chokingsound.
“The mayor is at the top of Jeff’s list,” Blaireprotested.
“Yes, but the art in the exhibit is mine,” he said. “I’m not going to have anyone ruin the evening for you. You’ve been working so hard assisting Jeff in restoring the paintings.” The exhibit was six weeks away and Blaire had been helping out in the gallery amidst her therapy visits and meetings with Grant’s publicist. She lamented she didn’t have enough time for her own art. Grant was pleased that Blaire had shown interest in painting again. She’d been like a ghost finding joy in nothing after her experience at Orlov’s hands. Both of them hoped the interest in their engagement would die down enough to cut back on the demands from thepublicist.
Andy jumped up from the sofa. “I guess I should begoing.”
“Are you driving to Boston to see Val?” Blaireasked.
“No, but I’m seeing her Saturdayevening.”
Blaire inclined her head, a sadness flitted over her face. Grant could curse his sister for her stubbornness. He had not spoken to Val since he issued his ultimatum and it looked like his sister followed his advice to lose hisnumber.
* * *
That Saturday,ten days after declaring their engagement, his woman begged him for a weekend lazing around the penthouse. Everyone from politicians to fashion houses wanted a piece of Blaire. At first she was excited, but the thrill faded after the first few nights of endless cocktail and dinner parties. Sometimes they had to squeeze in two events in one evening but that soon got old for his fiancée. Grant was used to the fast-paced nightlife because he usually did it for business, although rarely forpleasure.
“I’m tired of smiling when my feet hurt,” Blaire whined as she plopped in front of the kitchen counter and welcomed the mug of coffee Grant set in front of her. “And it’s ridiculous the amount of clothes these designers send me. They’re sending me size zeros. Do I look like a size zero toyou?”
Grant rounded the kitchen counter and hugged her from behind, kissing her temple. “You’re a size sexy-as-fuck.”
Blaire giggled. “Great answer. Have these people seen myass?”
“It’s a very niceass.”
“Thank you. I’m a six and on my off days I could be an eight. Maybe it’s my skinny legs that make me look like azero.”
Grant nipped her ear. “Your legs aren’t skinny, they fit around my hips perfectly with enough meat for my fingers to grip.”As I nail you to thewall.
