Chapter 20 — Carson

“Grandma,” I greeted and stood up.

Walking over, I helped her get out of her grey trench coat.

Her distinct peppermint smell never failed to send a shiver of fear down my spine. Just like it did now.

“You have no idea how surprised I am to not get your location out of a sleazy scandal sheet, I must commend you on that front. At least you didn't leave to start a sex cult here. I had a wager with Demmings. Guess I lose another hundred dollars.”

Wait, another?

“And a good morning to you too, grandma.”

Coat off, she sashayed over to my desk where she dropped her purse and sunglasses before heading to the corner to pour herself a whisky from the decanter.

With her drink in hand she landed heavily on the chair in front of my desk and crossed booted feet over one another.

“Well don't just stand there. Sit so we can talk.”

I remained in place, hugging the expensive coat like it could help me understand what was going on.

If I hated my mother, I feared my grandmother. Carrie Miller had this no-nonsense attitude that scared me growing up and to this day.

She was the matriarch of this company and our family. Nothing happened without her say-so, and she always managed to show up at the exact time that I usually forgot I had no actual power.

With nothing else to do I gently laid the coat on the only couch in the room and took my seat before my grandmother. Her hazel eyes held no clue as to what she was thinking or feeling, as usual.

My brothers and I got nothing out of the specific Miller family gene pool: hazel eyes, blonde hair and the inclination to treat our children like trash, even though none of us had any yet.

“You wanted to talk, let's talk. I'm in the middle of something.”

All she did was sip her drink as the conditioned air toyed with yellow hair that flowed to her shoulders. Dressed in a sensible pant suit, she didn't look a day over sixty.

“I'm still trying to figure out what your angle is,” she finally said, taking a sip of the amber liquid.

“Angle? There is no angle.”

One perfectly groomed dark eyebrow went up. In that moment she looked just like a female version of me.

“Oh there always is with you. You just don't decide to leave town unannounced. And by road too.”

“Maybe I just wanted to get away for a while. Did you ever think about that?”

“And your best choice is Orlando? I know you, if you wanted to get away like you say, you would've chosen The Bahamas.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe I wanted to go to Disney World,” I dished a humorless smile.

She pursed her lips. “Cut the crap.”

“Finally,” I drummed my fingers on the arm of the chair. “Wanna tell me why you're really here? And don't give me that bullshit about worrying about me, you know we've always been honest with each other, grandma.”

She only replied with a smirk from the rim of her cup.

One thing my grandmother and I had that was missing from my relationship with my mother was the mutual respect.

Ever since I could remember she was always civil with me. She was the one that introduced me to the world of business. When my twin showed no interest in our family's company she took it upon herself to groom me. Of course she did it with fear but, hey, at least she did more for me than my own mother.

As I grew older it became apparent that her interest in me was to atone for her role in turning her daughter into as emotionally unavailable as she was.

I wasn't going to be anyone's path to redemption, and I made it clear to her.

Suffice it to say that we now manage a professional relationship.

“You haven't spoken to your mother in six days and she's whining my ear off about it.”

“She's exaggerating. It's been a week.”

She dropped her crystal glass and interlocked her fingers like I'd seen her do when she sat down with prime ministers.

“Frankly, I don't give a rat's ass about your relationship with your mother. Sour it, don't sour it, it's your business. What I wanna know is why you gave a state-of-the-art camera to a bunch of try hard hippies to shoot, of all things, a movie.”

“That's what this is about?” I asked because I couldn't believe Carrie Miller would waste her time on something she could've delegated.

“You're a hard man to pin down for a chat.”

“For this particular reason,” I tapped a finger on the table separating us for emphasis.

Grandma did not say anything, didn't even pick up her drink, she just stared at me waiting for an answer.

I hadn't noticed how fresh-faced my grandmother looked and it led me to wonder how many Botox injections it took to achieve that taut face but deep down I knew it wasn't Botox. Probably all the human souls she took.

“First of all, that deal was months ago, they're even done shooting. Secondly, what was I supposed to do? The boys in white needed someone to test it to give them some data and the production company had the money and time. It was a win-win for everybody.”

“Except for the fact that the board had no idea you were carrying out this deal. When were you planning on informing us?”

“Oh I'm sorry, I had no idea I was supposed to report my every move to the freaking board.”

All I could think was that today was not a good day to not be able to swear.

“With something as important as that camera, a heads-up would've been nice.”

“So you can put it to a vote and waste precious time fighting over who can get the most childish? Yeah, I don't think so.”

My grandmother's stare dropped into a pointed glare.

“The board exists for a reason,” she reminded me. I could tell she was holding her anger back.

“Other than to slow me down, I beg to differ.”

“Let me remind you that we are the ones that elected you CEO, we can just as easily reverse our decision.”

“And there it is,” I gave a short, humorless laugh. “You know I was wondering when the threats would start rolling in. I thought you and the board knew better. You don't need to threaten me, if you don't like the way I'm handling things as CEO,” I leaned in closer to her stoic face. “tell me to leave and I'll leave this seat for whoever the board thinks can do a better job. Till then, I think this conversation is over, don't you?”

The only thing moving on her face was the twitching of a muscle in her neck.

“I'm sorry that's how you feel, but it doesn't change what you did. Or didn't do.”

“Neither does this fool's errand you embarked on. You must know that, right?”

She sighed and rubbed her temple. “Believe it or not, I didn't come here with the intention of fighting. But I see now I should be taking my leave.”

I watched as she stood up and retrieved her purse.

“One more thing,” I stopped her. “Do you know anything about a test site in Cairo?”

“Don't you have people that usually do this stuff for you?” she asked as she replaced her sunglasses.

“Yeah, you're right,” the ice in my voice could freeze the ocean. “God forbid I ask my grandmother a simple question.”

I made to get back to my work when her rotund voice answered.

“We don't. As far I know, we never tried setting anything up in North Africa.”

I nodded my gratitude.

She grabbed her trench coat and pulled her arms through it. Pulling her hair from her neck she stood there and stared at me.

“I hate the way our conversations end these days, Carson. Truly. What happened to us?”

I noted that that was the first time she'd said my name since she entered here.

I shrugged. “You started treating me like nothing more than an ordinary employee.”

She nodded stiffly. “Well then, I'll see you at dinner on Sunday. That is if you decide to come over to the house, for once. And for God's sake please call your mother.”

With those final words, she opened the door and took her peppermint scent with her.

That'll be the day.

Left with more questions than answers, I rubbed my hand over my face, suddenly feeling ten times wearier than I usually did after an impromptu visit from my grandmother.

This was a warning visit, and I would be an idiot to deny it.

My actions were starting to annoy the board and instead of telling me themselves they sent my grandmother.

I shook my head. I wouldn't be surprised if I was one day ambushed by the board in a dark alley.

Until that day.

After determining I had six more hours to go, I got back to the papers on my desk.

***

I sipped from my glass as I watched her from across the courtyard.

She was in the middle of conversation with a group of middle-aged people.

Even though there were enough distractions around—someone had been creative enough to invite a fire dancer and her spinning created fascinating yellow streaks in the otherwise dark night—I couldn't see anything other than her.

For the umpteenth time she looked up and shot me a lopsided grin but neither of us made a move towards each other.

I was content with watching her from afar.

There were things I was starting to notice. One was the fact that she didn't seem to be getting bored with whatever they were talking about even though I knew it couldn't be more than movie mumbo jumbo.

I noticed she tried to make her hair cover the side of her face closest to the short, stout man who seemed too eager to me.

I wanted to walk over and tear him away from her the second he had waddled over and tried commanding her attention but there was something in the look she shot me that gave me pause.

So I had to settle for watching out for her from the bar. I knew it was completely unnecessary, but I didn't trust the fat man's beady-eyed stare.

Someone occupied the stool beside me, momentarily distracting me from my staring.

From the lines etched in his tan face one could tell Nick Bastian was not feeling like the man of the moment he was supposed to be.

He took a sip of his drink and I chuckled into mine.

“You know you look worse than death right? I thought this was supposed to be a party.” I shot him a side-eye.

“Is it that obvious?” He asked, turning on his stool to look at the other guests.

“What's wrong, Bash?”

I only got to know Nick through the production company. We weren't at the level of friends yet, but he had a good head on his shoulders and an appreciation for fast cars.

He sighed and swigged his drink. I saw his eyes drift over to the right and I leaned out to get a better look.

His gaze was trained at a tall, dark woman with the curliest hair I'd ever seen. I instantly recognized the cat eyes of July Walsh.

“No, no. Please don't tell me…”

“What?” his head snapped to me like he'd been electrocuted.

“Don't tell me she's got you too?” I pointed my drink in July's direction. “She's got half the world in love with her, don't tell me you're one of them?”

Nick sighed and ran a hand through his black hair. “I'm not. Or at least I thought I wasn't. It was strictly professional and after one drunken kiss I'm not sure anymore.”

“Not sure of what?”

“Everything. She's my best friend, man, I don't want to ruin that. Besides, she'd never see me that way.”

I didn't say anything.

Two months ago if I had met someone in the same situation as Nick I'd have scoffed and looked for the nearest exit, but now, now I understood him. The uncertainty and the fear of doing something wrong.

“Jesus, look at me,” he laughed but I knew it wasn't genuine. “How sad am I? Spilling my guts to Carson freaking Miller,” he laughed again and finished his drink in one gulp.

“I think you should tell her,” I ignored his snide comment. “Worst case scenario she has no feelings for you but at least then it's out in the open.”

Nick looked just as shocked as I felt at giving such a well-thought suggestion.

“Hey, I'm allowed to be surprising once in a while.” I told his shocked face.

Finally having enough of watching from afar I settled my glass on the decorative counter and walked up to Butterfly.

To my utmost relief the short man was nowhere to be seen and she was now talking with a young woman who had Butterfly's distinct rainbow headphones on.

“Pardon the interruption, ladies,” I said to them, but only Butterfly seemed to acknowledge me. The other woman—who looked a little older than a child actor to me—just stood there humming to something only she could somehow hear over the loud song blasting through the speaker.

Butterfly rolled her eyes, but it wasn't out of annoyance.

“You've ruined everything,” she started. Hearing her voice for the first time today suddenly filled me with something I could only describe as content.

“Come again?”

“I thought we were playing eye flirt?” She pouted and looked so adorable my fingers itched to pinch her little cheeks.

“We were, but you know what's more fun? Using words,” I shot her a knowing look that caused her to snicker.

Leaning closer, the vanilla scent of her skin almost made me forget what I was going to say. It wasn't that the fragrance was anything new or special but somehow, clinging to her velvety skin it was like something from another planet. Intoxicating and enlivening at the same time. I found it so intriguing how the most generic fragrances on her had the ability to give me a high I was sure no drug could.

“So, I'm bored, what do you say we blow this popsicle stand?”

“What popsicle stand? I don't see any.”

I was confused for a second until I remembered she didn't understand idioms.

I groaned but not out of annoyance. “Damn those idioms, but come on, it's grade school English.”

“I know, but I have this disorder that makes me take everything literally.”

“It's not a disorder, you're just weird.”

Before she could reply, the other woman whom I had totally forgotten sighed and took off the headphones.

“Sorry about that,” she said as she placed the headphones in Butterfly's palm. “I was in another world, I guess.”

“Billie Eilish will do that to you.” Butterfly nodded as she accepted the accessory.

“Hello,” the woman finally acknowledged me, but I only nodded.

“Excuse me, I'm gonna need to steal Butterfly away for a while,” I told the other woman.

“And what makes you think I'm interested in whatever you have to say?” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

Accepting the unspoken challenge with a smirk, I leaned in and whispered into her ear, “I have a feeling you're gonna want to hear what I have to say.”

I honestly had nothing that interesting to tell her other than the fact that I was fairly certain someone was embezzling money using my forged signature, but I had already spent more time than I usually would at this type of party, and I honestly couldn't wait another second to be alone with her, away from the rest of humanity.

Her enthralling eyes dipped before looking at me with such curiosity that I almost forgot to breathe.

“Fine then,” she finally said with a lopsided grin that had more behind its angelic light. “It was nice to meet you, Aida,” she told the other woman and squeezed her arm.

Then she turned and before I could make a coherent thought, slipped her dainty hand into mine and propelled us toward the nearest exit.

“So I guess congratulations are in order,” she started as we slowed to a stroll on our way to the parking lot.

I had heard her, but I was so distracted by the feel of her skin and the slight scent of vanilla that was still reverberating inside my nose to realize that it was my turn to say something.

“For what?” I asked, thanking the heavens that my brain finally caught up.

“You have successfully torn me away from my responsibilities for two nights in a row.”

“And I'm guessing that's an accomplishment I should be proud of?”

“Of course,” she tilted her head prettily.

For a while it was only the crunch of the grass under our feet and the rapidly reducing sounds of laughter was all that filled the silence between us.

“So just to state the obvious, you have nothing to say. All that was just a ruse to get me alone. Am I right or am I right?”

“I prefer option C. Saving you from that awful gathering. You're welcome, by the way.”

She stopped and turned to stare at me, blinking so rapidly I thought she would pull a muscle. Her red mask looked velvety under the yellow garden lamp.

“I don't know whether to be impressed by your audacity or offended that you think I need saving. From anything.”

There was a sudden undercurrent of anger in the air between us and I knew I had said the wrong thing, as usual.

I was still thinking of the best thing to say to rescue the situation when she burst out laughing.

“You should've seen your face,” she hiccupped with laughter. “I was messing with you, Mr. Knight-in-shining-armor, did you really think I was mad?”

“Honestly, I have no idea what is going on with you most of the time,” I told her, more amused than I expected to be.

“I do have this air of mystery around me, don't I?”

Not waiting for an answer she turned and completed the short walk left to my car.

“Seriously, what are you going to tell me that you couldn't tell me in there?”

“Nothing special,” I opened the door for her but instead of getting in she chose to stare at me with only the open door as a barrier between us.

“Now when you say that with that tiny, conspiratorial smirk I do not feel at all assured.”

We were just a few inches apart and the urge to swoop down and connect our lips was overwhelming. Even in the night her eyes danced like two, bright, rainbow-colored buttons.

“All in due time,” I leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her temple.

She reached up and fiddled with the collar of my shirt. Her slender fingers grazed my bare skin, and my brain was overloaded with searing, white-hot electricity. Just one accidental touch and I was ready to give her my soul.

“Fine,” was all she said before she bent her tall frame and entered the car.

Shaking off the drug-like effects of her skin I joined her inside.

“So where are we going? And it better be worth my missing the cake. I heard it had fireworks. And glitter,” she nodded with a serious expression that I found endearing.

“We're going to my house.”

Her face fell and she was silent for a while, the upward motion of her chest the only indication she was alive. “What?”

“Relax, will ya? I've got a couple of sodas we could share, if you're up for it. If not, I completely understand.”

I half expected her to open the door and leave but she only blinked rapidly again and sucked her teeth.

“So let me get this straight. You took me out of a party with fireworks-and-glitter cake and Nick Bastian…”

“Even though technically Nick is on his way to being completely hammered right as we speak.”

“…and July Walsh, to share a couple of sodas in your house?”

“When you say it like that it sounds completely ridiculous. But in my defense if there are fireworks on the cake there's not going to be much cake left after the fireworks go off. Just saying.” I shrugged, hoping to hell that she didn't leave.

I didn't know what I would do with the rest of my night. Hell, my life.

The thought came with so much intensity that it stopped everything in me.

I want her for more than just nights. Forever.

The fear came next.

The fear of how much I enjoyed her enthusiastic laugh, how much I adored her careless quips, even her fiery anger and most importantly how I would definitely regress deeper into the darkness without her.

I had experienced fear before, but this was a whole new level.

It took her gentle smile to send all the negative thoughts running back down to the void where they'd come from.

With only that half-moon smile I just knew that somehow everything would be ok.

One day at a time. That's how you'll get through it. One day at a time.

“You're an idiot. Start the car.” With that she clicked on her seat belt, and I chuckled and followed her instructions.