In Between Gracie Abrams Novels & Stories

“Van Asten?” “Exactly.” Grace draws herself to her full height, her nostrils flaring as though she’s wrangling something inside her. Something worse than anger. “I told Elena to back off from the deal so I won’t get fired. She didn’t back off.” Mira smiles at me. “You can say Grace here has switched sides.” “Yes.” Grace holds her hand out to me. “And I will do everything I can to bring Émeraude and Van Asten down.”

Meanwhile, Grace went to Aaron's study and knocked on the door. "Gracie." Aaron looked up at her, signaling for her to come in. "Aaron, you seem to have integrated quite well into Pamore. You should come back often in the future." Grace entered casually, glancing around at the furnishings. Aaron leaned back in his chair, lazily rubbing his temples. "What do you want to ask?" "I knew I couldn't hide anything from you." She smiled and moved closer to give him a shoulder massage. "But I wasn't wrong. You really have integrated well. You've only been in Pamore for two days, and you already know such insider information."

Amber swiped across the screen angrily. “This had better be go-” But the words died in her throat as Amberleigh found herself looking at none other than Grayson Andre Godwin. Fuck. SOS in-fucking-deed.

"Nothing wrong with enjoying the scenery while you're at it now is there?" Gracie was the least likely candidate for the Academy. A brash, loud talking, always ready to throw down as she terms it, African American beauty, with chocolate brown skin and the most piercing black eyes with the purest whites. She looked about fifteen, except for her height of five ten, which towered over my five three stature. From our first day together at the Academy, we'd just hit it off. Our backgrounds weren't much different; Gracie grew up about an hour or so away in D.C.'s inner city. Tough streets for anyone, but even more so for a young girl who's father had been gunned down for his part in a neighborhood

I address her when she is busy talking as everyone's attention turns to me. "Ana. Come honey." She makes her way to me and looks quite cheerful making my brow raise. I turn to look at my father who avoids eye contact with me and Shori looks pissed. "Ana, this is Swarna Oberoi and this is Veer Raj Singh Oberoi, her grandson." She introduces the two to me and greet the lady warmly. She stares at me for long time and I tilt my head in confusion asking her silently as to why. "You are so beautiful dear."

She said, smiling. Noah cleared his throat with a sigh and dropped the box. He dusted off his hands against his scrubs and replaced the smile on his face with a more serious look. "I hope you’re feeling better than you did yesterday?” He asked and she nodded, just as the door to his office opened and Dr. Mackie walked in, a woman from the oncology department. He watched as Grace stiffened for a second before loosening up, then she looked at her with a smile. “Hi,” she greeted and Adriana walked to her, a small smile on her lips.

I thought to go to her first to see if she is ready to talk to me; otherwise, I will just have to read up her background data and other reports that Zain had left on my table. I approached my apartment, but I noticed her glimpse as I was climbing the stairs. She was in the garden with her maid. Now that she is off the wheelchair, she has been roaming the compound and putting her leg to good use. They were playing and chasing each other, and she was laughing so hard that she could choke at any time. The atmosphere was so serene, and I almost thought about leaving to not ruin her fun, but Debby noticed my presence and quickly bowed to greet me.

His smile was polite, but after the last 48 hours I’ve spent, the smile looked too knowing to me. “Yes?” I said cautiously. He stepped forward, offering his hand. “Nicholas Grant. Committee member. I had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Abrams just the other day.” My stomach tightened. Vanessa. Of course. Ryan stiffened, shoulders going rigid. “Pleasure,” he said, but his tone was clipped, measured in that dangerous, polite way of his. Nicholas gave me an appraising look. “I must say, Ms. Sinclair, your name has been mentioned quite a lot recently.”

“Let’s hit the club and forget about that jerk—for a few hours, or for eternity. I’m not picky.” I managed a real smile, ready to welcome any distraction she had to offer. The drive was filled with light chatter—Gracie venting about work and a guy who’d been hitting on her at the training center. By day, she worked at the same company as Matt, owned by his uncle, and in the evenings, she trained as a guard. I marveled at how she managed to juggle it all. Listening to her talk was a welcome distraction. Between her stories about work and the training center to her singing along with the radio, I felt some of the tension in me begin to dissolve.

_It's more refreshing if the air you breathe is the air that makes you live._ Grace Maninnhattan. Ever since hearing the insult from Mr. Emeron's son, Grace has been grieving until the night. A call to enjoy dinner, only she agreed without going to her mother who was waiting outside.