Chapter 9
Olivia
I didn't know why I even agreed to dinner. Maybe because I was slightly euphoric after sex, or maybe to convince myself that at some point Grayson was going to slip up and this gentleman act he was putting on would fall apart. The parts of me that wanted to hate him, however, were growing weaker and weaker every time we interacted. And sex with him didn't seem to keep me on solid footing; that much was sure.
He sat across from me at a small table in the back corner of the dining room. The Fig Tree had never been on my list of places to visit; too expensive for my taste. But the food was good, and we had pleasant conversation, mostly about the app and what sort of users it was attracting in the test groups. Grayson was thoughtful and had some decent suggestions, but I still held my reservations about his motives. He was a shark of a businessman too. One I really didn't trust.
"Dessert?" the waitress asked as she approached to take away our empty plates, but my stomach was so full there was no way I could eat another bite.
"Honestly, I'm good." I splayed my hand on my stomach and shook my head in protest and she turned to Grayson who waved her off with his credit card to pay the check.
"That's too bad; their carrot cake is fantastic." Grayson used his napkin to dab the corners of his mouth and smiled at me.
"I'm so stuffed. God, I don't think I can even finish my wine." The Merlot was incredible too, but I didn't want to induce pain from being overstuffed the way I did on holidays at my parents' house. This wasn't the type of place I ever took investors too, though so I did regret not making the choice to indulge.
"Shall we?" he asked, standing. He didn't even wait on his card to return before extending his hand to me. I glanced around and noticed the waitress returning already and figured he must frequent this place in order to know their timing so well.
Taking his hand, I dropped my napkin on the table and picked up my clutch. He guided me through the dining room, snagging his card from the waitress on the way and mumbling something about her "usual tip." It unnerved me a little too, thinking of how he had money to throw around, though this was probably a tax write off for his company. One gossipy conversation with Lanie and Ian and helped me understand how Grayson worked anyway. He had no real wealth of his own outside the business, which was how he was able to put on such a powerful front. He found a way to make everything he did a write off.
It soured my mood slightly as I realized I was being swindled. Not in the "this man is a grifter" sort of way. But it cheapened the entire experience knowing his entire public persona was a mask. I wondered what his actual net worth was if his business weren't taken into account. And if he thought of this as just an investor meeting then what did that mean about the sex we'd been having? And what was I supposed to feel about that?
Grayson chatted about more of the same topic we'd hashed out over dinner, rambling on about investor contacts and his own app creation, but I was lost in my head. It was all overwhelming and confusing. I wasn't the sort of woman to just go play the field. I didn't have one-night stands or sleep with random strangers. But his charm, and his charisma, were so alluring I had a hard time saying no to him. It scared me to think what I'd do if he was being sincere and not just dabbling on the side because it was hot sex and we couldn't keep our hands off one another.
"You okay?" he asked as he opened the door to his car. He had a driver, one I never met, who'd come to escort us home, though he'd driven us here. That, too, made me suspicious.
"I'm uh..." I glanced at the driver as I slid into the limo and slowly the partition between driver and passenger compartments rose to seal off our privacy. Grayson climbed in behind me and shut the door and I sank into the seat uncomfortably. "I'm fine."
"You don't seem fine, Liv."
There he did it again. That name. He spoke my name as if we were friends, and more than that, as if he cared about me. He wasn't supposed to care about me. He was supposed to be a means to an end, someone I used to get what I needed because he was a user and deserved to get a taste of his own medicine. But I hated myself for feeling that way, or for even thinking that.
I looked down at my hands, folded around my clutch tightly. There was no easy way to tell him that I wasn't feeling the same way about this arrangement as I had when we first agreed to it. Call it my stupid pride, but I hated the idea that I was caving in and realizing he wasn't all that bad, that Lanie was right. I sat there so long he reached over and took my hand, prying it off my clutch and bringing it to his lips in a gentle and romantic gesture.
"I'm sorry if I was pushy about things. I just think our user base would be really similar eventually and--"
"It's not that," I blurted out, knowing my mouth was going to betray me. I bit both of my lips, clamping them shut, and looked up at him pleadingly, to understand and not push me. I must have looked foolish to him. I know I felt foolish. How on earth could a woman who had taken such a hard stance against a man suddenly do a one-eighty and start thinking he wasn't so bad?
"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, and he chuckled, but he kissed my hand again and I whimpered.
"Gray, I..." I was coming undone. My fucking app was so right. If I could look past his flaws and past mistakes, Grayson Thorne was a pretty decent guy. And he was hella good looking, not to mention the fact that he was stupid rich, supportive of my dreams, and basically the Hercules of making my body ignite.
