The CEO Buys In
Page 67
Nathan’s nostrils flared as he inhaled. “I’d follow that aroma to the ends of the earth,” he said.
“Don’t exaggerate, young man,” Grandmillie said, but Chloe could hear the gratification in her voice. “The proof is not in the smell, but the taste.”
“So it is,” Nathan said, casting a wicked glance at Chloe.
She jabbed him with her elbow, taking satisfaction in his barely perceptible wince.
Grandmillie directed them into the dining area, where the table was covered with an embroidered linen tablecloth and set with the good china, as always. She’d put on a full English tea, along with a decanter of some golden liquor and tiny stemmed glasses. Nathan helped her into the chair at the head of the table. When he was behind her pushing in the chair, Grandmillie caught Chloe’s eye and winked.
That wasn’t going to get her grandmother out of a talking-to about ambushing Chloe like this.
“Chloe, the scones are warming in the oven. I’ll pour while you bring them in.” Grandmillie hooked her cane on the table. “Nathan, you sit here to my right.”
Chloe walked into the kitchen and stopped to take a deep breath. Atop the pristine countertops, a linen-lined basket and a well-polished silver tray awaited the scones.
She took another breath, trying to calm the jangle of her nerves. She grabbed the dish towel hanging on its hook and rubbed it over her damp palms before folding it into a hot pad and opening the oven. A cloud of hot, scone-scented air billowed around her when she reached in to retrieve them.
As she piled the scones in the basket, she listened to Grandmillie and Nathan exchange small talk about sugar, milk, and the offer of port. She emerged from the kitchen to find Nathan bent attentively toward her grandmother as she poured a glass of the fortified wine for him. He accepted the delicate crystal, holding it in his long fingers as though it were as fragile as a Fabergé egg.
“A drop of port?” Grandmillie asked her when Chloe slid the tray onto the table.
“Yes, please.” She was tempted to tell her grandmother to make it a double.
Chloe took the stemmed glass and carried it to her seat to the left of her grandmother, who was directing the serving of the scones. Even with his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his hair in disarray, Nathan radiated authority and control as he distributed scones and tea, his attention focused on following Grandmillie’s instructions. His manner toward Chloe was that of an old friend without even a hint of sexual interest. She heaved a sigh of relief.
After they’d sampled the scones, and Nathan had paid Grandmillie extravagant but well-deserved compliments on her baking, the conversation veered into dangerous territory.
“So,” Grandmillie said, giving Nathan an assessing look, “I hear you had a pretty bad case of the flu. How are you feeling now?”
“Fully recovered,” he said. “Your granddaughter has a healing touch.”
Chloe considered kicking his ankle, but once again he kept all insinuation out of his voice.
“I imagine your Dr. Cavill isn’t happy that you’re back at work so soon,” Grandmillie said.
Nathan chuckled as he took a sip of the port. “And he lets me know about it. That’s the problem with having an old friend as your doctor.”
“Did he help you develop your computer battery?”
“Ben?” Nathan looked startled. “No, I had a hard time even getting him to play video games with me. He was always rescuing injured animals while I fooled around with electronics.”
“Chloe’s father was an inventor too, you know,” Grandmillie said.
This time Chloe wanted to kick her grandmother under the table.
Nathan cast a sharp glance at her. “I wasn’t aware of that. What sort of things did he invent?”
“Consumer products,” Chloe said vaguely. “A better umbrella. That kind of thing.”
“He felt he wasn’t treated well by the company where he worked,” Grandmillie said. “That’s why Chloe likes to work at start-ups. She says they reward their employees’ contributions more fairly.”
What the heck was Grandmillie doing?
“Except the start-ups where I work become shut-downs,” Chloe said, trying to stop Grandmillie from offending Nathan any further.
Nathan’s gaze was focused on her in a way that made her wonder what he was thinking. “Trainor Electronics was a start-up not that long ago.”
“But now it’s just as corporate as Lindell.”
“Is that where your father worked?” he asked.
Chloe realized she’d said more than she meant to, so she nodded and took a swig of port.
Nathan turned to her grandmother with a charming smile. “You’ve relieved my mind, Mrs. Russell.”
Grandmillie looked taken aback. “I have?”
Nathan nodded. “When I was ill, and admittedly not at my best, I sensed a certain attitude of disapproval from your granddaughter. Now I understand that it was directed at my position as the head of a corporation rather than at me as an invalid.”
Chloe wasn’t going to let him get away with that. “It was because you thought all you had to do was throw money at me and I’d drop everything to be at your beck and call.”
“I was hallucinating,” Nathan said.
Chloe snorted. “You were cranky but perfectly clearheaded.”
Grandmillie broke into their bickering. “Chloe worries about me being alone.”
“Don’t exaggerate, young man,” Grandmillie said, but Chloe could hear the gratification in her voice. “The proof is not in the smell, but the taste.”
“So it is,” Nathan said, casting a wicked glance at Chloe.
She jabbed him with her elbow, taking satisfaction in his barely perceptible wince.
Grandmillie directed them into the dining area, where the table was covered with an embroidered linen tablecloth and set with the good china, as always. She’d put on a full English tea, along with a decanter of some golden liquor and tiny stemmed glasses. Nathan helped her into the chair at the head of the table. When he was behind her pushing in the chair, Grandmillie caught Chloe’s eye and winked.
That wasn’t going to get her grandmother out of a talking-to about ambushing Chloe like this.
“Chloe, the scones are warming in the oven. I’ll pour while you bring them in.” Grandmillie hooked her cane on the table. “Nathan, you sit here to my right.”
Chloe walked into the kitchen and stopped to take a deep breath. Atop the pristine countertops, a linen-lined basket and a well-polished silver tray awaited the scones.
She took another breath, trying to calm the jangle of her nerves. She grabbed the dish towel hanging on its hook and rubbed it over her damp palms before folding it into a hot pad and opening the oven. A cloud of hot, scone-scented air billowed around her when she reached in to retrieve them.
As she piled the scones in the basket, she listened to Grandmillie and Nathan exchange small talk about sugar, milk, and the offer of port. She emerged from the kitchen to find Nathan bent attentively toward her grandmother as she poured a glass of the fortified wine for him. He accepted the delicate crystal, holding it in his long fingers as though it were as fragile as a Fabergé egg.
“A drop of port?” Grandmillie asked her when Chloe slid the tray onto the table.
“Yes, please.” She was tempted to tell her grandmother to make it a double.
Chloe took the stemmed glass and carried it to her seat to the left of her grandmother, who was directing the serving of the scones. Even with his shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his hair in disarray, Nathan radiated authority and control as he distributed scones and tea, his attention focused on following Grandmillie’s instructions. His manner toward Chloe was that of an old friend without even a hint of sexual interest. She heaved a sigh of relief.
After they’d sampled the scones, and Nathan had paid Grandmillie extravagant but well-deserved compliments on her baking, the conversation veered into dangerous territory.
“So,” Grandmillie said, giving Nathan an assessing look, “I hear you had a pretty bad case of the flu. How are you feeling now?”
“Fully recovered,” he said. “Your granddaughter has a healing touch.”
Chloe considered kicking his ankle, but once again he kept all insinuation out of his voice.
“I imagine your Dr. Cavill isn’t happy that you’re back at work so soon,” Grandmillie said.
Nathan chuckled as he took a sip of the port. “And he lets me know about it. That’s the problem with having an old friend as your doctor.”
“Did he help you develop your computer battery?”
“Ben?” Nathan looked startled. “No, I had a hard time even getting him to play video games with me. He was always rescuing injured animals while I fooled around with electronics.”
“Chloe’s father was an inventor too, you know,” Grandmillie said.
This time Chloe wanted to kick her grandmother under the table.
Nathan cast a sharp glance at her. “I wasn’t aware of that. What sort of things did he invent?”
“Consumer products,” Chloe said vaguely. “A better umbrella. That kind of thing.”
“He felt he wasn’t treated well by the company where he worked,” Grandmillie said. “That’s why Chloe likes to work at start-ups. She says they reward their employees’ contributions more fairly.”
What the heck was Grandmillie doing?
“Except the start-ups where I work become shut-downs,” Chloe said, trying to stop Grandmillie from offending Nathan any further.
Nathan’s gaze was focused on her in a way that made her wonder what he was thinking. “Trainor Electronics was a start-up not that long ago.”
“But now it’s just as corporate as Lindell.”
“Is that where your father worked?” he asked.
Chloe realized she’d said more than she meant to, so she nodded and took a swig of port.
Nathan turned to her grandmother with a charming smile. “You’ve relieved my mind, Mrs. Russell.”
Grandmillie looked taken aback. “I have?”
Nathan nodded. “When I was ill, and admittedly not at my best, I sensed a certain attitude of disapproval from your granddaughter. Now I understand that it was directed at my position as the head of a corporation rather than at me as an invalid.”
Chloe wasn’t going to let him get away with that. “It was because you thought all you had to do was throw money at me and I’d drop everything to be at your beck and call.”
“I was hallucinating,” Nathan said.
Chloe snorted. “You were cranky but perfectly clearheaded.”
Grandmillie broke into their bickering. “Chloe worries about me being alone.”
