Wall Street Titan (Wall Street Titan #1) - Anna Zaires Page 0,68
big deal and ask a million questions and want to meet you and stuff.” There, spelled out in detail. Now run for the hills, as any sane man would.
He uncrosses his arms, not looking the least bit concerned. “That’s fine. I’m happy to meet them.”
“Y-you are?” Is there something wrong with my hearing? Because I’m pretty sure Marcus just told me that he wants to meet my family.
“Yeah, why not? Feel free to introduce me when you talk to them. I’ll be in my office, catching up on work. Oh, and the Wi-Fi password is bond$carelli19.”
And with that, he walks out of the room—or rather, his ginormous closet.
36
Emma
I don’t call my grandparents.
Not at 11:30, at least. It takes me several minutes to find my purse in Marcus’s huge bedroom—it was sneakily hanging on the back of the door—and when I finally fish out my phone, it’s already 11:37 a.m. and I have a worried text from Grandma.
I’m normally never late when it comes to our biweekly Skype sessions.
Ugh. Now I can’t not explain. If I just text back to reschedule, she’ll think something is seriously wrong.
Phone in hand, I look around. The bedroom is as gorgeous as the rest of the penthouse, and there’s a nook with a sleek lounge chair where I can Skype. But I really don’t feel comfortable talking to my grandparents next to the bed where Marcus fucked my brains out. Repeatedly. It’s bad enough I’ll be sitting in a borrowed robe.
Library it is, then.
I rush over there and plop my butt into one of the chairs by the fireplace. Then I get my phone on the Wi-Fi, send the videocall request, and wait.
“Emma, sweetheart!” Grandma’s rounded face fills the small screen, with Gramps’s ear next to her. “What happened? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I just woke up late. I’m so sorry. How are you guys doing?”
“Oh, we’re great. Already prepping for Thursday,” Grandma says, beaming as Gramps moves fully into the camera view. With a start, I realize she’s talking about Thanksgiving—which means I’m flying out to Florida this Wednesday, having bought the plane tickets on a mad sale last year.
“Your grandmother’s already gotten the turkey,” Gramps says as proudly as if it were his achievement. “And she found a new stuffing recipe online.” He peers at me, his nose growing as he leans closer to the camera. “Wait a minute. You’re not at home.”
“Um, no.” Crap, I’m so not ready for this. If I’d remembered that Thanksgiving—complete with endless opportunities for interrogation—is this coming week, I definitely wouldn’t have done the call here. “I’m at a… friend’s place.”
Grandma blinks. “Really? Which friend? Kendall or Janie?” She leans closer to the camera as well. “That fireplace looks nice. And are all of those bookshelves?”
“Yep.” Sighing, I turn my phone around and move it in a slow semicircle, letting them see the whole room—because they would’ve badgered me into doing it anyway. “Lots of books here.”
“Your friend must really like to read,” Gramps says, impressed. “Is that how you met, through your work?”
“So it’s not Kendall or Janie,” Grandma says, stating the obvious.
I turn the phone back to face me. “No, it’s someone else.” Dammit, why did I let Marcus prod me into this? Short of outright lying, anything I say will make this thing between us sound way more serious than it is. Not that I know what level of seriousness we’re at, anyway. It’s not a one-night stand, as we’d been on a couple of dates prior to hooking up. A weekend fling, maybe? Casual dating?
It’s certainly not the start of a real relationship—not with him dead set on marrying someone like Emmeline.
My grandparents are staring at me expectantly, and I know I need to tell them something. Sighing, I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s no one you know—just a guy I met a couple of weeks ago, okay?”
If this were a movie, the soundtrack would’ve come to a screeching halt. As is, the silence is deafening, both of them staring at me slack-jawed.
Finally, my grandfather speaks. “A guy?” He sounds incredulous. “As in, a boyfriend?”
I wince. “We’re not quite there, Gramps, but yes, someone I’m dating.” I hope I don’t have to explain the nuances of modern dating to him, because I’m not sure I understand them myself—especially in light of Marcus’s bizarre willingness to meet my grandparents.
I could’ve sworn casual hookups and family don’t mix.
“Is that a robe you’re wearing?” Grandma asks, peering at my shoulders. “It looks like a robe.”