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When she pulled away, he wore a delightful expression of shock, and a blush over the back of his neck. “I’ll, um, I’ll see you later, Hanna. Have a nice, peaceful night.”

Hanna wrinkled her nose with her smile. “Try to have a nice time at your party. Or, at least, try not to beat anyone with a baguette from the food table.”

“No guarantees there,” he said.

They lingered a moment in silence, neither willing to pull away. Then one of the clocks in the house chimed the hour and reminded Gregory of his duty. He reached up, brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip, then stepped back into the bedroom to fetch his grandmother.

Hanna stood, hands over her mouth, as if she could cling to that intimate touch. Only when she heard Vivian’s wheelchair rolling towards the doorway did Hanna flee for her room, where she could blush in private.

* * *

Laura hada pointed word with Gregory before she would let Gran out of the bedroom.Nothing physically taxing. Nothing that will cause her too much excitement. She stays an hour or two at most, then comes back upstairs to rest. If she looks at all tired, you bring her upstairs. The only reason I am letting her go at all is that I know this is important, and that she’ll be just as worked up if I don’t let her go.

His grandmother had remained his staunchest ally throughout his life. The one who encouraged him, lifted him up and told him he could accomplish whatever he put his mind to. Even after his grandfather’s death, she had helped Gregory navigate the treacherous waters of the big-business seas, filled with corporate sharks that waited for a whiff of blood. Tonight was meant to be his big debut as a CEO and leader among businessmen. Knowing he’d have her in his corner to guide and support him had helped keep him steady.

Now he pushed her out of the lift that carried them downstairs and contemplated her mortality.She won’t always be here. All my life, she’s prepared me to stand on my own. Now that time is coming, and I realize there is no preparing a person for this. Or for the void she’ll leave when she passes on.

“I’m not dead yet, Gregory Arthur,” Gran said from her wheelchair.

He coughed. “No, you’re not. Why would you say that?”

“Because I know you. That gloomy look on your face. You’re thinking about when I’m gone.” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Kindly try not to plant me before I’m ready to fertilize the flowers, dear.”

He ducked his head. “Sorry, Gran. I just worry.”

“Everyone worries. Do you know what good it does?” She held up one hand, fingers forming an O-shape. “That much. Nothing changes when you worry. It changes when you act.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind acting when it comes to your health, and not overdoing it,” Gregory answered with his most innocent smile.

Vivian faked a scowl. “I’ve taught you too well.”

“Too late now,” he said, as they arrived in the foyer. “Ah, look. Our first guests have arrived. You can’t even run my foot over with your chair in retribution because you’ll scuff my shoes.”

“Just you wait, my dear son. I will hide your coffee mug,” she threatened.

He winced. “You’re a being of pure evil, you realize that.”

“I taught you everything you know, but not everythingIknow.” She smirked.

He laughed and took his place near the door. The first few sets of people to arrive would receive a personal welcome, before Gregory took Gran to the parlor to entertain those who had arrived while others trickled in. Already, a pair of headlights had hit the windows, and the initial guests walked to the door. Gregory straightened his tie and waited.

Perhaps he should have guessed Robert would arrive first. Had Gregory not enhanced his own tastes in tuxedos with advice from Martin, his grandmother, and the tailor, Robert might have outshone Gregory handily. He had no doubt it had come from one of the better tailors in Italy, fitted and altered to provide an illusion of both size and confidence. Robert looked like a younger, more imposing version of himself, one who spent prodigious time at the gym cutting high-dollar deals while bench pressing twice his own weight.

Power suit. Interesting. Wonder what that means.“Robert. Thank you for coming. You look good.”

“Well, I could hardly attend your inaugural gathering in a velvet tracksuit, could I,” Robert said with an eel’s smile. “You remember my wife, Colleen?”

Gregory had never figured out Colleen Lane. She acted the very picture of a perfect businessman’s wife, demure and quiet and full of pretty smiles that looked good on her husband’s arm. Not once when Gregory had spent time in her company had she broken from this pattern of behavior, or given a glimpse at a personality beyond it. Yet he knew from various sources she moved like a shark through the subculture of corporate wives, an environment that did not easily forgive missteps.

“Of course. Colleen, welcome to Greenhill Hall,” Gregory said, with an inclination of his head.

“Thank you,” she said, wearing the same smile she always wore. She bent to greet his grandmother. “And Vivian. So good to see you again. Your home is lovely.”

“Thank you, Colleen,” Gran said, all easy social graces. “Your dress is beautiful. Is that from the designer I heard you’d taken a shine to?”

“It is! And so kind of you to notice.” As she straightened, she looked around, and Gregory thought he saw a flash of shark teeth. “Where’s Martin?”

Gregory took a step forward. “Out for the evening. I gave him the night off. It seemed best.” He leaned in, as if he would tell her a secret. “I’ve heard there is some terrible gossip about him making its way through the board. A shame how poorly adults can behave. He shouldn’t have to deal with that.”


Tags: Cassandra Moore Paranormal