Cocktails and jerks

1477 Words
Vivienne POV Vivienne had been having actual fun with Ryan while she tried to ignore Grayson. The man was business smart and had a successful hotel in California. It was refreshing, talking to someone who didn’t have an ulterior motive. While they’d laughed and shared stories, she did her best to forget about Grayson—who was laughing loudly—deliberately—with the group of women at the other table. She didn’t have to look to know he was probably leaning back in his chair, oozing that infuriating charm of his. Even in high school, he’d had a knack for drawing attention—and finding women who would fall over themselves for him. Ignoring Grayson was a skill she had perfected in high school, when his teasing had been less harmless and more biting. 10 years ago The school bell rang, and Vivienne clutched her books tightly, her knuckles white as she braced herself for whatever Grayson Blackwood and his crew had planned. They were always somewhere—lurking near the lockers or loitering under the bleachers, ready to pounce. Today, they were in the hallway, leaning against the lockers like they owned the place. Grayson stood in the center, his dark hair tousled like he’d just rolled out of bed. He was grinning, of course. He always was. “Hey, Wood,” he called out, his voice cutting through the chatter of students. “You got a map to the library? I think you live there.” Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t look up. She pressed the books tighter to her chest and hurried past him, focusing on the squeak of her sneakers against the linoleum floor. “Oh, come on,” he added, his tone teasing but not loud enough to draw the attention of a teacher. “We’re all dying to know what you’re hiding in those books. Is it spells? Are you a secret witch?” His friends snickered, but she bit her lip and kept walking. She wasn’t going to let him get to her. Not today. But even as she turned the corner, she could feel his eyes on her. Back in the present, Vivienne’s smile faltered as she glanced toward Grayson’s table. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He was watching her. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, the rest of the room faded away. “Vivienne?” Ryan’s voice pulled her back. She blinked, forcing her gaze back to the man across from her. “Sorry, what were you saying?” Ryan chuckled, unaware of the storm brewing in her chest. “I was just asking if you’d ever consider expanding your B&B business to the West Coast.” Before she could answer, movement caught her eye. Grayson stood, his chair scraping against the floor as he murmured something to the woman beside him. A ripple of unease tightened her chest as he strode toward their table. He wouldn’t. But of course, he would. “So, I’m guessing this is your business partner?” Ryan asked Vivienne. “Hmm, yes,” she said without expanding. “Grayson Blackwood,” Grayson smiled, but Vivienne noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes as he shook Ryan’s hand. “So, Bryan, what is it that you do?” Grayson asked. Vivienne knew exactly what he was doing. He was saying Ryan’s name wrong on purpose, to intimidate him. “I have a hotel in California,” Ryan said, without correcting Grayson. His smile tightened slightly, but he let the mistake slide. He wasn’t going to rise to the bait. Vivienne sighed. If she was being honest with herself, Ryan was just her type. You know, the predictable, safe type—the boring type she always went for. “Oh, great.” Grayson nodded. “So, Vivienne, we should probably talk about the B&B, discuss some partner things.” “What?” Vivienne asked, raising a brow. “Oh, I was actually just about to ask Vivienne if she wanted to join me for cocktail hour. That way I can introduce her to a few more people I know. You know, networking,” Ryan smiled at her. “I’d love to,” Vivienne said brightly, turning to smirk at Grayson, who was clearly unamused. She leaned back in her chair, hiding her amusement behind a sip of water. If Grayson wanted to play games, she was happy to let him lose. “That is a great idea, count me in!” Grayson said, leaning back in his chair and putting an arm over the back of hers. Vivienne opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself. If Grayson wanted to tag along, let him. She wasn’t about to let him think he could dictate her evening—or her life. Instead, she smiled sweetly and turned to Ryan. “Shall we?” Cocktail hour was fun, but not in the way Vivienne had imagined. It wasn’t fun because of Ryan. No, it was fun because she could use it to get under Grayson’s skin. Now she was the one who had the upper hand. Each joke Ryan made, was a chance for her to laugh obnoxiously loud, touching Ryan’s arm, telling him how funny or smart he was. With every laugh or touch, Grayson’s face turned more grim. She for sure thought he’d leave, get back to his little fan club, but he didn’t move. No, he stuck around, fluttering around her like a butterfly. Vivienne though she was normally a light drinker, didn’t turn down any of the cocktails that were being handed to her, and soon, she found herself a little on the light-headed side. “So, Vivienne, I was wondering if—you’d like to head back to my room with me for a little night cap.” Ryan suggested, leaning towards her. Vivienne was enjoying his attention. It was a breath of fresh air after Hayden’s rejection. He’d made her feel ugly, but with Ryan, she felt…sexy. “Sure, why not?” She giggled, swaying on her feet. “Okay, come on,” Ryan said, grabbing her by the arm to steady her. “Look buddy, I don’t know what you’re doing, but the only room she’s going to is her own,” Grayson said, stepping up to Ryan was an air of decisiveness. “Mind your own business, Rayson,” He spat. Vivienne burst out laughing. “Rayson,” She spluttered, slapping her thigh, but neither of the men were paying her any attention. Their eyes were connected in a bid for dominance. “She wants to come with me.” Ryan grated out, grabbing Vivienne’s arm a bit too tightly. “Auw, that hurts,” She slurred. “She’s clearly intoxicated. Come on, man, don’t be that guy,” Grayson tried to deescalate the situation. But Ryan pulled Vivienne's arm, causing he to stumble. “I’m not going to ask nicely again,” Grayson threatened, his eyes darkening as he puffed out his chest. He was so damn sexy when he was fired up. Ryan looked up at him, Grayson being slightly larger. “Fine,” He spat, pushing Vivienne slightly. “G-Goodnight Bryan,” Vivienne slurred, causing Grayson to hide a smirk. “I want to dance,” Vivienne suddenly said, heading towards the dancefloor, but Grayson swooped her up and threw her over his shoulder. “No more dancing for you, Foxxy,” he said, walking towards the elevator while Vivienne giggled. Lucky for her there were only few people left to notice the scene and most were intoxicated themselves. Grayson tightened his grip on Vivienne as she stumbled in the elevator, her giggles echoing around the small space. “You smell good,” she murmured, her face pressed against his neck. Grayson back away slightly. “Yeah, well, you smell like trouble,” he muttered, trying to ignore the way her fingers absently traced the lapel of his jacket. The elevator dinged, and he scooped her into his arms again, ignoring her protests about wanting to dance. By the time they reached her room, she had gone from giggling to softly humming a song he didn’t recognize. “Okay, Foxy, here we go,” he said, setting her down on the bed. Vivienne blinked up at him, her hair a wild halo around her flushed face. “Why doesn’t anybody want me?” she whispered, her voice unexpectedly small. “Not Jake, not Hayden, even you hate me.” “What?” He asked. “Why do you hate me?” “I don’t hate you,” he said softly, but she was already drifting off, her breathing steady. Grayson leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t hate you,” he repeated, this time to himself. Vivienne had already drifted off. And that was the problem.
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