It made my stomach jolt unpleasantly. He wasn’t actually immortal, after all.
“Grandfather? They said you wanted to see me?”
“Carter! Yes, indeed.” Grandfather pushed himself to his feet and smirked a little as I shook his hand, and Martine and I exchanged smiling nods. “Hell of a party, isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir. Everyone seems to be having a wonderful time. Your party planners outdid themselves.”
“A fundraising gala in Licking Thicket.” He shook his head in amusement. “I never thought I’d see the day you’d attend one, let alone ask me to host one. You’ve changed since you moved to the country, my boy.”
Not so much. Not really. I liked to think I was just shedding a little of the polished veneer I’d put on years ago like a suit of armor. I liked to think I didn’t need it anymore. And I liked to think I was closer to being my authentic self now than I’d been when I was working in Nashville. I just wished I was having an impact on the world while working here in rural Tennessee.
“Nearly four million raised so far, did you see?” Grandfather went on.
“I did. It’s wonderful,” I agreed.
“And it’s not going to spend itself. The Rogers Family Cardiac Wing won’t do much good without direction from someone we can trust to know what the people of the area need. Someone like you.” His blue eyes twinkled cannily. “You know, I’ve been thinking about your little trip—”
I stifled a sigh. “Grandfather, we’ve been over this a dozen times. I’ve already committed to the Venezuela trip. I’m not backing out.”
“No, no, I understand. I do. Your good name is at stake. I’m reconciled to that. But you do agree that no one could take on the leadership role for this branch of the foundation the way you could, don’t you? I mean, eventually?”
“I…” I frowned. There was for sure a catch in there. “I suppose. I’m not sure this will be my last trip abroad.”
I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do.
“Exactly.” Grandfather nodded like I’d agreed with him. “And to assist you in that endeavor—in really building a foundation in the community you’re serving—I bought you a house.” He spread his arms wide. “Congratulations.”
“A house? What house?” I literally looked around, like a game show host might come through one of the doors carrying a picture of a small cottage, or a midsized colonial, or anything that didn’t have five wings and a ballroom.
“This house.”
“This house?” I looked around again, and only then did I understand. “Wait, this giant estate? Grandfather, it’s way too big—” Not to mention gaudy, too big, and in every conceivable way, over-the-top.
“But that’s the best part! Plenty of room for me and your cousin to visit!”
“To v-visit?”
“Extensive visits!” He beamed. “You can thank me later, once you’re home safely.”
I mentally revised that to I would cancel this transaction once I was home safely, because I was way too shocked to deal with it just then. ”And speaking of you coming home safely… a prospective future leader of the foundation, I think it’s wise to take some precautions to ensure your safety while you’re gone.” He paused. “And it would help me sleep a lot better at night too.”
He’s old. And he worries.
I pursed my lips. “What sort of precautions?”
“Nothing unreasonable,” he assured me. “For one thing, I’d like you to make sure you notify the American embassy of your location, in case of natural disaster for example.”
“Oh.” I blinked. That was reasonable. Unlike the house. “Yes, sure. I already planned on that.”
“And for another thing, I’d like you to contact us by satellite phone once a week so we know you’re alright.”
“I will,” I said fondly.
“I’d like you to make sure you wear sunscreen and bug spray daily. Malaria in Venezuela is no joke.”
My heart squeezed. “I promise.”
“And I’d like you to take along something else for your protection too. Martine, if you could?” He nodded at his assistant, who hurried away.
“Alright, I’ll take whatever you’d like me to take.” I grinned and impulsively clasped his hand. “I really appreciate you trying to understand my point of view here. Compromise is so imp—”
“You wanted to see me, sir?” a voice behind me rumbled, so deep it set off small earthquakes in my gut.
“Ah, Riggs!” Grandfather smiled widely. “Meet my grandson Carter.”
I turned to look at the man and quickly realized I had to adjust my gaze up… and then up again.
Holy shit, it was Señor Shoulders from the bar.
And, even holier shit, how flipping tall was this guy? He had to be some kind of genetic anomaly.
The man lifted a hand to push his dark hair back from his chiseled jaw, and his flexing bicep seemed to push against the seam of his jacket much the way his enormous quadriceps pulled against the legs of his pants.