Page 42 of Yours, Always

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Page 42 of Yours, Always

Greyson laughed. “I figured there was wine. I’m surprised Annabelle didn’t take your phone away from you.”

“To be fair, I don’t think she knew that I’d be texting you at all last night. I hope you deleted all those.”

“Of course, I deleted the thread…but not before I took some screenshots. That’s prime blackmail right there.”

Prudence swatted him on the arm before turning to the group working on the float. “You guys are farther along than I thought you’d be. What time were you here today?”

“I just got here. I couldn’t be cooped up anymore in that house, head trauma or no. I’m good, my bruising doesn’t hurt as bad, and I don’t have a headache anymore.”

Prudence reached out and inspected his head where the lump was. “I’d have stopped over today to see how you were, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad you’re here, too. Annabelle and Sebastian have been going at it for quite some time.” He motioned over toward where they were standing, almost nose to nose, both clearly upset about something. “I wish they’d just fuck and get it over with.”

Prudence gasped. “I can’t believe you just said that! You haven’t met him yet.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, something sure needs to give. Here let me take those.” He grabbed the coffees from Prudence. “Let’s take these over as a peace offering, see if we can split those two apart.” Greyson handed three of the coffees out to the other Bee employees, all of them starstruck that Greyson Atwood was there and giving them coffee.

As they started over to where Annabelle and Sebastian were standing, Prudence realized how happy she truly was that Greyson was here. Even though it had only been two days since she’d seen him, the two days seemed so much longer. They rounded the corner of the flatbed the large bee was sitting on and walked right into an argument between Annabelle and Sebastian.

“We don’t need the flatbed,” Sebastian insisted. “We can fit this in the back of my truck and then we don’t have to worry about hauling this thing all over town.”

“What do you mean hauling it all over? It’s a float for a parade,” Annabelle said. “You’resupposedto haul it around. And it’ssupposedto be on a flatbed. Putting this bee in the back of your truck will look ridiculous, and it’ll seem like we have no money.”

“We don’t have any money, Winters, and you know that. Renting a flatbed is not what we should be spending anything on.”

“The Bee isn’t going to go under by spending a few hundred dollars on this. Besides, it would never fit in your truck. It just wouldn’t.”

“You want to bet?” Sebastian asked. “I’ll go get it right now and I’ll prove to you that itwillfit.”

Annabelle rolled her eyes. “We don’t have time to waste on you leaving right now. We have one day to get this done, and we’re just going to keep going and itwillstay on the flatbed.”

Sebastian threw his hands up. “Fine, you can keep your flatbed, but I’d like the float to accurately represent the new colors of the newspaper. Blue and silver.”

Annabelle turned deathly quiet, then her voice rose at an alarming pitch. “Blue and silver? You want it to be blue and silver? It’s a damn bee, sir, not some high school mascot.”

Greyson turned wide-eyed to Prudence. He slowly set the coffees down and jerked his head to the side indicating they should leave. Prudence nodded as he grabbed her hand and pulled her away.

“Marcie told me that it’s been like this all morning,” Greyson explained. “Anything Sebastian recommends Annabelle shoots down and anything Annabelle suggests Sebastian will have no part of it. It’s bad.”

“Honestly, I was afraid this would happen.” She sighed. “Let’s let them fight it out.” She looked at the Beeemployees that had wandered over to where they sat. “You guys might as well head home. It’s almost done and I think they’ll be a while.”

Prudence turned her head as a man in a dark suit approached. He was an older gentleman, nondescript truth be told, but it was the cut of the suit that made him stand out. It was impeccable. She nudged Greyson and bobbed her head in the new man’s direction. “Check out that guy. He looks like he should be in a corner office in New York.”

Greyson’s mouth dropped open, and he stood so fast his chair tipped over. Prudence rose and placed her hand on his forearm. “Grey, are you okay?”

“Not even a little,” Greyson bit out and he stepped forward, intercepting the man who had walked over to them. “What are you doing here, Rand?”

The man smiled broadly and reached out to shake Greyson’s hand. “I heard you took a spill. I flew out to make sure our leading man was okay.”

Greyson stood stock still. To most people Greyson appeared perfectly amiable, but Prudence knew, by the tap of his finger on his thigh, that he was agitated. She also noted the lack of introduction, irritation blooming on Greyson’s behalf that this man would cause him to forget social niceties.

Rand continued. “According to your quaint little paper I’m just in time for some fall activities. Listen Greyson, we need to speak, can we meet for a drink this evening?” Prudence shifted as his eyes slid to her, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He looked away then, his actions clearly dismissing her as anyone of importance. “Let’s meet this evening. Somewhere less public?”

“I don’t think so, Rand. I’m on vacation.”

Rand’s demeanor change was so swift Prudence couldn’t help but take a step back.

“Nadia has informed me you have yet to sign your new contract, nor have you indicated that you want to commit to this new film with Samantha. If it’s not done by the end of the week you’re out.”




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