healthy when you do.”
“I’ll be fine. Go.”
Scarlet made sure an attendant knew not to let Fin stay in there for more than fifteen minutes. She would undoubtedly sleep, and could easily end up in the sauna for hours without anyone knowing.
An hour later, exercised, steamed and massaged, Scarlet headed for the elevator, feeling utterly relaxed. She would go shoe shopping, she decided. It would help her pass the time.
“Ms. Elliott,” said a gym attendant, running to catch up and sounding frantic as Scarlet waited for the elevator. “Your grandfather would like to see you.”
To her credit, Scarlet didn’t groan, but thanked the young man and hit the up button. If she hadn’t taken time to indulge herself with a massage she would’ve been long gone by now. She sighed at her bad timing.
Scarlet had been to the twenty-third floor surprisingly few times in her life, and not at all since she’d been working at Charisma. Her grandfather’s office was furnished in an old European style, like The Tides and the Manhattan town house, with antiques that he and Gram had collected on their travels. The familiarity should’ve helped to make her feel comfortable, but it never had, not when the man himself was present.
Had Gram told him about the note in the balloon? She’d said she wouldn’t, but …
Mrs. Bitton, his assistant/watchdog, wasn’t at her desk, and the door to his inner office was open. She peeked in.
He was on the phone and waved her in.
“I will be there in time,” he said gently into the telephone. “And I’m not working too hard, cushla macree. In fact, Scarlet just stopped by, so I’m going to visit with her for a while, then I’ll head home.”
Scarlet shook her head at his ability to twist things for his own purposes. As if she would just stop by on her own. Ha!
She wandered to the opposite wall to study a painting of her grandmother as a young bride. Most of the Elliott women took after her in one way or another. In this pose, Scarlet could see Fin’s heritage directly.
“Prettiest woman on earth,” her grandfather said, coming up beside her.
“Inside and out,” Scarlet said.
“Why she’s put up with me all these years only God knows.”
Her instinct was to agree with him. Because of that, she didn’t.
“No comment, missy?”
She smiled and shrugged. He invited her to sit in one of the wingback chairs in front of his desk. Surprisingly, he sat in the other instead of taking his position of authority behind the desk.
Hmm. He must not want to intimidate her this time. What was going on?
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked.
Curiouser and curiouser. “I’m fine, thanks. What’s up, Granddad?”
“Are you dating anyone in particular these days?”
She went on full alert. “Why?”
“Just making conversation.”
“Since when?” The words slipped out before she could stop them. She regretted being sarcastic, but his question worried her. Did he know about John? No. He would’ve been direct if he knew.
His lips compressed. “Can’t I be interested in your life?”
“So, you’re just making conversation? You really don’t care if or who I’m dating, right?”
“Of course I do.” He shifted in his chair, obviously uncomfortable.
“What if I told you I was dating, oh, say, John Harlan?” Was she stupid or brave to test him? she wondered.
“I would know you were just being obstinate about answering.”
“Why?”
“You would never betray your sister like that.”
Betray. Of all the reasons she’d come up with for why she couldn’t see John beyond this month, it had never entered her mind that she would be betraying Summer. Summer had given up John. Period. Scarlet hadn’t stolen him. But Granddad would see it as a betrayal, probably because it would be like shoving Summer’s nose in her mistake, a reminder of how much she’d hurt another human being.
“Nor would John go out with you,” he added. “Don’t even joke about such a thing. Although I was surprised to see you dance with him.”
Scarlet couldn’t find words to reply.
“Okay, I can take a hint,” he said after a few seconds. “No personal questions. I called you up here because I’ve been hearing good things about the job you’re doing. Competent and creative, that’s what people are saying. I wanted you to know I’m proud of you.”
Scarlet was stunned into further silence. She couldn’t remember her grandfather ever doling out compliments to her. “Thank you,” she managed to say, fighting back the sting of tears.
“I’m looking to you now, Scarlet. Summer has gone off to live in sin with that rock star. Even if she does come back to work, she’ll probably have babies soon. I think you’ll stick around. You’re not one to romanticize.”
He shocked her anew, this time in a way that ticked her off. Did he think he was complimenting her by saying such a thing? “Meaning?” she asked.
“I think you’re part of the future of EPH. Like your aunt, you’ll devote yourself to your work.”
Considering that Fin was driving herself to an early grave, Scarlet didn’t consider her aunt’s devotion something to strive for.
Then there was the other issue, how Scarlet wanted to be a designer, not an editor. How long would she have to pay family dues before she could do what she wanted? How much did she owe her grandfather for raising her after her parents had died?
“You’re not usually so reluctant to argue with me, missy.”
“Maybe I’m growing up.”
“That’s a welcome possibility.”
She kept her expression serious. “It couldn’t be because you’re getting feeble, and I’m being careful not to cause you to have a heart attack or something.”
His fists landed on his thighs. “Feeble?” he roared.
She drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly. Now this was the Granddad she knew and understood. She decided to take advantage of his bluster to kiss his cheek and leave while she had the upper hand. “Let’s do this again sometime, Gramps.”
She heard him chuckle as she walked through the door. It made her smile—until she got into the elevator and remembered his comment about betraying Summer. Summer wouldn’t see it as a betrayal, but she would surely be uncomfortable. Adults made choices in life. Scarlet could choose to make things easy on her sister or difficult.
Without question, Scarlet would always make things easy for Summer—even to the point of denying herself love and passion, something Summer had found, and wanted Scarlet to find.
But probably not with John Harlan.
John knocked on Scarlet’s door at precisely eight o’clock. He was nervous—seventeen-years-old, first-prom-date nervous. Which was stupid, since he’d already slept with her. How could he be tense about seeing her, making conversation now?
Because he had to act like he hadn’t slept with her. Hadn’t seen her incredible body in its natural state. Hadn’t seen her face as an orgasm overtook her. Hadn’t felt her hands and mouth all over him, hot and curious ….
Okay. That line of thought had to be stopped right now, or else when she opened her front door she would see a bulge in his pants and he’d get his hand