Stormy Truce

Lena's POV 

I walked into the office the next morning with a straight face. The kiss with Damien never happened. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself. 

This was business, nothing else. Quietly, I sat at my desk, flipping through the papers from yesterday’s meeting. 

There was a knock.

“Miss. Reynolds?” It was Grant’s secretary, holding a file in her hands and wearing that annoyingly polite smile.

I didn’t look up. “What is it?”

“Mr. Wells asked me to deliver the final draft of the contract. He’s very eager to hear back from you.”

I sighed, finally glancing at her. “Tell Mr. Well, that I’m not interested in the partnership.”

Her smile faltered. “But, Ms. Reynolds, this deal is very beneficial—”

“I’m not inclined to take any business advice from you, missy,” I cut her off with a stern voice. “Now, unless you have something else, I suggest you leave.”

The secretary blinked, taken aback, then she gave a tight nod. “Very well, I’ll let him know.”

As she walked out, I sighed. This was all too much. I had a meeting to get to, and I wasn't letting Grant back into my life or my world. 

A few hours later, I was done with the meeting. It was raining heavily as I stepped out. I checked my phone — no messages from my driver. Where was he? I sent another text, then tried calling. Voicemail. My battery was running out. 

“Great,” I muttered under my breath, slipping my phone into my bag. I wasn’t about to wait around, though. I grabbed my coat and headed out into the street. Hoping to find a cab. 

My jacket soaked through in minutes. I pulled it tighter around myself, trying to shield my face from the cold wind. My phone was now dead, and every taxi that passed was either full or didn’t bother stopping. I had no choice but to walk back to the office, at least for shelter. 

I was halfway down the block when I heard a car horn. Turning around, I saw Grant’s sleek black car pulling up beside me. The window rolled down,  

“Need a ride?”

I hesitated, water dripping down my nose. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine. Get in, Lena. You’re going to catch pneumonia out here.”

“I’ll manage.”

Grant sighed. “Lena, stop being so stubborn. You’re soaked, your driver’s not here, and there’s no taxi in sight. Just get in the car. I’m not leaving you out here.”

He was right. There was no way I was getting back to the office without a ride, and I was freezing. With a reluctant sigh, I yanked the door open and slid in. 

Grant handed me a towel from the backseat. “Here. Dry off.”

I took it without a word, dabbing at my face and hair. I could feel his eyes on me as I stared out the window, watching the rain pour down.

“You know,” he said after a moment, “this could’ve been avoided if you’d just agreed to the deal.”

I shot him a look. “Not everything is about you, Grant.”

“It could be,” he muttered, his hands gripping the steering wheel stiffly.

We drove in silence for a while. I was drenched, and despite the towel, I was starting to shiver.

“Where’s your driver?” Grant asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. “I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

Grant glanced over at me, noticing my shivering. “You’re freezing.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said through clenched teeth, but the truth was, I wasn’t. My body is shaking uncontrollably now.

Grant’s jaw tightened. “No, you’re not. We’re not far from my place. You need to warm up and get dry.”

“What? No. Just take me to the office—”

“I’m not letting you freeze to death in the back of some office building, Lena. It's after work hours. You need to change, and I’m not dropping you off until you do.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but I knew it was pointless. The man could be infuriatingly stubborn. “Fine,” I muttered.

We pulled up to his apartment building. It wasn't the one I knew. Clearly, he'd bought a lot more in the past few years. I followed him inside, dripping water all over the polished floors. Grant led me upstairs, and I stood awkwardly in the entryway as he disappeared into another room.

A few moments later, he returned with a sweatshirt and sweatpants. “Here,” he said, handing them to me. “You can change in the bathroom.”

I hesitated. “I don’t need—”

Lena, just change. You’re soaked.”

Grumbling under my breath, I took off my clothes and went into the bathroom. After peeling off my wet clothes and slipping into his much-too-big sweatshirt and sweatpants, I felt slightly warmer, though still numb.

When I came back out, Grant was in the kitchen, pouring two cups of coffee. He handed one to me as I sat down on the couch.

“You’re lucky I’m not calling an ambulance,” he said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of the hot coffee. “I’m fine.”

“You’re stubborn,” he corrected, sitting down next to me. “But that’s nothing new.”

I ignored him, sipping the coffee and trying to get warm. The heat from the cup felt good, but I was still exhausted. 

“Lena…” Grant’s voice was softer now, and I glanced over at him. “Why are you so against this deal? Are you still running from everything?”

“You're delusional.” I replied, slurring. I couldn't feel my fingers or my feet, or any part of me at all. I was numb from the cold. 

“Hey, don't die in my living room.” He said with a smirk and moved to sit beside me, carrying my feet on his lap. 

I struggled, but he hushed me with a finger on my lips. "Let me warm you up just a little." He said, his hands rubbing down my legs. 

Stop. Take me home." I swung my feet off the couch. 

“You live alone, Lena. It's not safe. Come on, just rest, I'll take you back when you're better. I promise." His voice was serious. At least he was a man of his word. 

I stared at him for a moment, skeptical. The exhaustion, the cold, the anger, it was all too much. I can’t deal with this right now. I finally laid back down. 

Grant smirked. “Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “I won’t lay a finger on you. Not unless you beg me.”

I fell into a peaceful slumber.