Grant’s lips tugged into a frown as he stared at the two sets of glaring eyes that faced him in the soft, warm lights of his private study at Harrington House. The familiarity of the room with its mahogany bookcases that caught glints of the morning sun did little to ease the growing tension in the room.
He crossed his arms, refusing to back down as he shifted his gaze from his butler, Worthington, to his daughter, Sierra.
Worthington’s disapproving look was bad enough, but Sierra’s was enough to stop a train.
“I don’t know what you two are so upset about,” he finally said. “I fixed the problem. It’s fine.”
Sierra scoffed at him. “Hardly.”
Grant’s shoulders slumped. “Julia’s here, isn’t she? She’s not leaving. She’s with us.”
“For now,” Sierra shot back.
Grant rubbed at his forehead. “For a year,” he reminded his daughter.
“Big deal, Daddy! She was with us for a year the last time and look at how that turned out! She nearly moved out because you wouldn’t do anything about it.”
As Sierra’s words echoed in the study, a twinge of uneasiness settled over him. Had he been too cautious? The weight of his own indecision pressed down on him, a silent reminder of squandered opportunities. He knew he needed to act, yet doubt lingered.
“That’s not true. I planned to do a lot of things. Then the explosion happened. And if that wasn’t bad enough, your mother showed up, just as I was about to tell Julia we wanted her to stay outside of her contract.”
Sierra frowned at him, crossing her arms as she arched an eyebrow. He knew that look of disapproval. But there wasn’t much he could do about it. He needed more time, and he had it now.
He held up a hand in his defense. “I needed more time, and now I have it.”
“Oh? More time for what?”
Worthington’s eyes darted back and forth between father and daughter as he shifted his weight, his fingers clasped tightly behind his back.
“Sierra, I couldn’t just spring it on her. After everything that happened, it would have been a disaster. I need time to make sure it doesn’t all go sideways.”
Sierra narrowed her eyes, her jaw tightening as she listened with her arms folded tightly across her chest. A silent, simmering disapproval radiated from her mere expression, more telling than her acrid words.
“Just trust me on this.”
“Like we trusted you the last time?” she burst.
Grant screwed up his face. “Why are you this angry? She’s here, isn’t she?”
