Golden Lies - Barbara Freethy [91]
"Someone who is seventy-four years old. I'm not sure what good he'll do inside. At least out front, he can call 911 if he sees anything."
"I trust Bud. And I'll put on the alarm so you don't have to worry. I'm sure you have better things to do than babysit your grandmother. It's Saturday. Maybe you should make a date—maybe with Paige."
"You have to call Paige by Monday or Tuesday at the latest for a weekend date."
"Somehow I think she might make an exception for you. You've got a devilish charm when you choose to use it."
"Don't go thinking there's some possibility of a longterm relationship with Paige. That won't happen."
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "Because we aren't right for each other and we are definitely not in the same financial bracket."
"So what? Money isn't everything, not if you love each other. But that isn't the real problem, is it? You don't think you know how to love. And you're afraid to trust anyone who says she loves you."
He shifted his feet, uncomfortable with the conversation. "Paige hasn't said she loves me, because she doesn't, and I sure as hell don't love her. I barely know her."
"You knew her well enough to make out with her last night. Or are you going to tell me you were just talking?"
"It's a different world, Grandma."
She laughed at that. "It's the same world, Riley, and I'm not so old I don't remember what desire feels like."
"You know, I have to go." He was not going to discuss desire with his grandmother.
"To see Paige? Give her my love, or better yet— give her yours."
* * *
Paige let herself into the mansion in Pacific Heights that had housed four generations of Hathaways. She was met almost immediately by the latest housekeeper, Alma Johnson.
"Let me take your coat, Miss Hathaway," Alma said. "Did you come to see your mother? Because she's at the hospital."
Paige handed over her coat. "Actually, I came to see my grandfather. Is he in?"
"Yes, he is."
"I'll go on up, then. Thanks." Paige made her way to the third floor with heavy feet and a reluctant heart. She told herself that her grandfather wasn't a bad guy; he was just impatient, opinionated, ruthless. Okay, maybe he was a little bit of a bad guy. He certainly didn't suffer fools, and he could definitely hold a grudge. He'd told the story a hundred times of a childhood friend who'd asked out the girl he was interested in. Wallace had never forgiven him. Their ten years of friendship had ended with that one lapse in judgment.
Which was why Paige hesitated in the hall outside his study. Talking to her grandfather about the Delaneys and the dragon or even her role at Hathaway's could be a definite lapse in judgment on her part. She wished Riley were here, but she knew she had to do this by herself. This was her family, after all.
She glanced at the portrait of her grandmother that hung on the wall near the door to her grandfather's study. It had been painted on the eve of her wedding to Wallace. Dolores Cunningham Hathaway had a beautiful smile and a serene expression on her face, as if she knew exactly what she wanted out of life. Paige wondered if her grandmother had been able to soften the sharp edges of her husband, if she had stood up to Wallace, or if he had controlled her the way he did everyone else. Unfortunately, she would never know. Her grandmother had died long before her birth, and Wallace had been single ever since. She supposed there must have been other women in his life at some point, but if there had been, he'd kept them away from the family.
Was that because he'd been so in love with her grandmother he couldn't bear to be with anyone else? Was that the kind of love he'd known? It seemed difficult to believe. He was such a hard, cold man. Maybe he'd been different then. Maybe he'd changed. The death of a wife and child would be enough to change any man.
How odd that both her father and her grandfather had lost