Grayson From Drop Dead Diva Novels & Stories

Grayson lounged back against the arm of the sofa, his phone balanced in one hand as he scrolled absentmindedly. He wasn’t really paying attention at first, just flicking through one video after another—until something caught his eye. A video with a familiar name written boldly on the screen. He stilled. The video replayed automatically, the voice of a young woman spilling through the speakers—bright, animated, and far too excited for the kind of story she was telling.

Although Grayson, the leader of Ghost, was an extremely dutiful and responsible person, he appeared to be rather opportunistic and lazy in comparison to Whitney, who worked non-stop like a robot. Grayson teased Whitney from time to time, “Whitney, Savannah Jones is your greatest love rival. Why would you spend so much effort looking for her? If I were you, I’d wish that she vanished from the earth's surface instead.” Whitty rolled her eyes at Grayson and said, “Even if she’s my love rival, I’d like to compete with her openly instead of scheming against her behind her back.” Grayson teased her, “You’re really a perfect match for Jens.”

He sighed, "I would have got here sooner but the earliest flight wasn't until this morning and I had to pay in person." I pulled back, feeling ridiculously pathetic as I wiped at my eyes, probably smearing whatever was left of yesterday's mascara. I glanced up at him, my breath catching as I took in the familiar face I'd missed so much. Grayson was towering at six foot six, dark-skinned, his short dreads framing his face. With those dark, expressive eyes and that easy smile, he looked the part of his profession. He had double piercings on both ears, adding a rebellious touch to his otherwise laid-back look. He studied my swollen face, his gaze softening as he let out a deep chuckle. "Damn, B

she chuckled, “but you don’t owe me any explanations Grayson. Its none of my business really “ Amber was dying to know Grayson’s sex count, but she hoped she came off as uninterested. Leo had slept with eleven girls before his three-year relationship with Eloise Calloway. Amber had been the first and only after, and he’d joked she was his lucky thirteen. She began to gather up the papers strewn across the end table. Grayson shifted on the couch beside her. “Six. But only two were socialites.” “Shut the fuck up! The Godwin of this city has only fucked six women?” Grayson laughed at her disbelief. “Yes, believe it or not, I’m rather selective where I put my dick. Courtney was the first back wh

the butler at the door clarified. "Mr. Grayson?" Audrey thought for a moment. "I didn't mishear, did I? Mr. Grayson? Is it Joshua Grayson, Grayson Corporation's president?" Malcolm nodded in confirmation. Audrey was surprised, turning to Natasha. "This…" Natasha's eyelashes fluttered. "I'm okay." Gently taking Natasha's hand, Audrey whispered, asking with a hint of awkwardness, "You two are divorced, right? Why is he here? Could he be looking for you?

She clutched her hands tightly. “I’m sorry, Mom…” Tristan said, his voice barely above a whisper as he swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. “Sorry isn’t enough,” she shot back. “Whatever you two think this is, it ends now. Not on my watch.” Her gaze swept over Tristan, from his head to his toes, disdain evident in her expression. She turned on her heel, ready to leave, when Aiden suddenly dropped to his knees and grabbed her hands.

Zenith greeted him, his face lighting up. "Hey, how are you, buddy?" Grayson replied warmly. I watched as Zendaya folded her arms and pouted. Clearly, she hadn't warmed up to him yet. "Your mother told me you broke your arm," Grayson said to Zenith. "Yes, but it's getting better," Zenith said, showing him his arm. "Hi, Zendaya," Grayson said, turning to my daughter. "Hmm," Zendaya replied, looking away from him. I saw a flicker of disappointment cross Grayson's face. He was still visibly downcast at the fact that Zendaya hadn't warmed up to him yet.

Grayson: This time, I put on a different dress. A simple white lacy dress. The maids put white flowers in my hair and gave me some white jewelry to accessorize. I guess I looked okay. Just as I finish getting ready, Prince Shithead walks in. "Boii, you be lookin' fiiiiineeee," Grace says. Strangely, I found myself agreeing with her. His chestnut-brown hair is neatly slicked back, and he's wearing a fitting suit, which subtly defines his muscles.

~~~DIANA~~~ {30 Minutes Later} "Aren't you married, Mr. Grayson?" I ask, turning slightly in my seat so I can look him in the face. Grayson gives me his smooth little smile, the kind guys use when they think they’re being charming. He shifts closer to me, his arm still resting on the back of my chair. “I’m in the process of divorcing my wife, actually. Papers are almost finalized. It’s been a long time coming.”

Dolly waved away the bartender who brought her over a slider full of potent-looking shots, all varying shades of dark beige to mahogany before continuing. "And ever since then, Atlas Grayson is certified single. He'll fuck a woman, and he'll fuck her good, but he doesn't really put his heart in it from what I understand. Which isn't a problem because most of them only want him to put his dick in it, and that's enough. Don't get me wrong, he's broken a few girls' hearts when they thought they could seduce him into love, but he's never played anyone. That's what I hear anyway."