I got in my car and considered driving down to Mexico to hide out for a few days, maybe even a few weeks, but ultimately I drove back to my loft. Once inside, I made my way to the bar, grabbed myself a beer, and then a second one so I wouldn't have to get again to get a new one, and headed out onto my balcony. I hoped the sun and the view of the ocean would help my nerves. I also needed to figure out a way to make this right for Natalie, but was concerned based on what my lawyers and PR people told me, was that any attempt to try and fix things, might only make it worse for her. But if I did nothing, Natalie would think I was a total and complete heel.
I was just finishing up the second bottle of beer and trying to decide if I would have a third one or maybe switch to something more potent, when there was a knock at my door. I answered it and was surprised to see my grandmother there carrying a tray of cookies.
"Gran. Come in. I wasn't expecting you." A part of me worried she was going to chastise me for leaving work. My grandmother was one of the few people that could make me feel small, not in a negative way, but in a way that suggested she had a great deal of power over me.
"I brought you some cookies. I thought maybe you could use them." She thrust the tray towards me and then walked into the loft. "Are you out on the balcony?"
I followed her in carrying the tray. "Yes. Can I get you something to drink? I think I might have some iced tea or —"
"Do you have vodka and tonic?"
I tried to hold my amusement back. "Yes, I do. I'll get you one right now."
I got her drink and then carried it and the cookies out to the balcony where she was sitting looking regal as she took in the view.
"These look like snickerdoodles, my favorite," I said as I took a cookie from the tray.
She slanted me a look. "I am a grandmother after all. There's nothing like cookies to make grandchildren feel better. Now tell me about this bit of gossip that is going around."
All of a sudden, the cookie tasted like ash in my mouth. The last thing I wanted to do was talk to my grandmother about my sex life with Natalie.
Deciding to play coy, I said, "That's all it is; gossip." I realized I hadn't gotten myself something to drink, and desperately wished I had.
"That doesn't make what is reported untrue. What is going on with you and Kellie's sister?"
I blew out a breath knowing I wouldn't be able to talk my way out of this one. "We're being discrete."
My grandmother let out a laugh and I couldn't blame her considering there was a picture of Natalie and me not being discrete plastered on the Internet.
"Did you really think that you two would be able to sneak around and nobody would notice?"
I jerked my gaze to my grandmother. "You knew?"
She stared at me intently, one brow arching. "This is my company, Hunter. I know everything that goes on there." Then her features softened, making her look more like a grandmother and less like an iron-woman CEO, as she picked up a cookie from the tray. "So, what's going on with you and Ms. Nichols?"
I sat for a moment looking out over the bay wondering that exact question. It was supposed to be so easy. Occasional sex with no strings. But somehow it had gotten complicated. Way too complicated.
"I don't know. We don't mix. We’re like oil and water, and yet at the same time, there's this powerful attraction between us. We thought we would just deal with it and be done, but it seems to be getting out of hand."
"What are your intentions towards her?" Gran asked me.
"I don't have any intentions. It's casual." I was certain she wasn't going to like that, but it seemed important to tell the truth. Although saying it out loud, it didn't feel quite truthful.
My grandmother frowned over the table at me. "I'm surprised at you Hunter. I thought you knew better than to risk a lawsuit by having an affair with an employee. Not to mention that you’re playing with this poor girl's heart, and have probably ruined her career as an artist."
There were bits of that statement that were true, so I focused on the one that wasn't. "I'm not playing with her heart, Gran. She doesn't have feelings for me either."
My grandmother's stern eyes stared at me over the rim of her glass as she sipped her vodka and tonic. She set her glass down. Her gaze never leaving me, making me feel like I was eight years old and getting in trouble for stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. Finally, she sighed and sat back in the chair.
"I don't want you to take this wrong, Hunter, but you really need to get your act together."
I flinched at my grandmother's tone.
"You're a very good businessman. You not only take care of the marketing for Strong Incorporated, but you have other businesses that are doing very well. Your personal life, however, is a disaster. Now I understand why you choose to live your life dipping your wick in every pretty scented candle that you find, but I can't help but wonder if that's making you more unhappy in your life."
I winced at her description of me knowing that it was right. And for a long time, I didn't care. I still didn't want to care, so why was I feeling so on edge? Maybe the problem was that I wasn't sticking my wick in every pretty scented candle that I came across anymore. Currently I was focused on one candle, and maybe that was the problem.
She stood from the table. "I know young men think that all this carousing around makes for a good life. But I suspect you're lonely Hunter. I'm worried about you. I'm worried that you've decided you'd rather be lonely than happy. I'm going to leave you to ponder upon that." She turned to head inside my home.