Front Burner (Published)

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

Emma jumped and her stomach knotted at the sound of his voice and the touch of warmth on the small of her back.  Before turning around, she knew who approached her.  Her body gave it away.

“Mr. Michaels, good evening,” Emma responded coldly. “I do have my job, but I’m not sure if that’s because of you or in spite of you.”

Initially, Grant Michaels narrowed his eyes, but then his lips turned up and he laughed out loud.  It was the first time she had really seen him smile.  His amazing countenance just jumped up several notches in Emma’s gorgeous rating.  She melted – nearly.                                                                                                              

“I think you took matters into your own hands that morning, Miss Rosen.  I’m not sure how my presence escalated the issue,” Mr. Michaels innocently responded, with a hint of a smirk remaining.

“My apologies, Sir.  I had no intention of causing a disruption.  However, if you hadn’t painted a target on my back, the rest of the group might have dismissed it.  My boss included.  Now, if you’ll exc-.”

“What did you think of my mother?” Mr. Michaels ignored Emma’s attempts to flee, but changed courses.

“What? Your mo-?” Caught off guard, Emma’s frowned as she tried to picture Marty’s notepad during the interviews and turned back toward the podium. “Oh.  Audrey Michaels?  Your mother is the hostess?”

“The very same.  She knows how to throw a party, doesn’t she?”

“Absolutely.  This turnout is amazing.  I bet she’ll bring in a great deal for those children,” Emma said genuinely.

Before Grant Michaels could respond, Marty approached them.  Grant frowned and stepped closer to Emma in what felt like an attempt to mark his territory.  She rolled her eyes.  This wasn’t the time or place to be peed on.

But Emma caught the apprehensive look in Marty’s bright eyes and the sweat forming on his forehead.  She stepped aside to meet him, but Grant stayed near.

“Are you all right?”  She asked.

“I’m good.  But I just got a call from my girlfriend.  Our daughter is really sick, and she’s not sure what to do.  Must be that bug going around our daycare,” Marty said apologetically and scanned the room.

“Marty, I’m fine to stay and call a cab.  I’ll get the names down of the final winners and email them to you tomorrow.  Will that give you enough time for the story?”

“Oh, sweet Lord.  You’re a life saver, Emma,” Marty gushed. “I really owe you one.”  He passed over his notepad and pen and took off.

With her hands full, Emma turned and headed to the front of the room. A hand wrapped around her upper arm and stopped her.

“You will ride with me,” Grant declared, proving he had been listening in.  “And before you argue, it’s business.  I’ll find you before the finale.”

And before she could refuse, he pivoted and stalked off.

***

An hour later, Emma awkwardly stood next to Grant while the valet brought his car around.  It was early June in the Northeast, and nights were still cool – something she was not accustomed to.  She wished she would have carried a light cardigan to slip on. 

She would have, if she would have figured out where to put it.

Grant led her forward, helped her into a sleek, black Jaguar XKR and moved around to gracefully slide behind the wheel.  Wow, she thought.  He didn’t get this with a politician’s income. Whatever this guy was doing on the side – it was working.

He took off with so much power, Emma was plastered to her seat.  Soon, a heavy silence settled around them, and he still hadn’t asked Emma where she lived.   Maybe the Michaels kept tabs on their employees?  Even the insignificant hires?  Emma wondered.

After escaping the downtown lights and commotion, the tension in the car only thickened.  At the moment, she was relieved to not be wearing a jacket.  It was so warm in here, and she longed to roll down her darkly tinted window, so she could possibly breathe easier.

“You should really steer clear of me, Miss Rosen,” Grant’s quiet but tense voice broke the silence.

Emma was not sure how to respond to the odd statement, so she left it at, “My roommate said something similar.”

Grant’s eyes never left the road, and he didn’t say another word.  Although little was really said, Emma’s chest ached.  He must have seen through her wall and clearly didn’t want her.  Why did she have to bring up her roommate?  That just proved she had talked about him.  Emma was mortified and couldn’t wait to escape the small space they were sharing.

Besides, she was already doing her best to avoid him.  Wasn’t it Grant who came up to her tonight, and then practically forced her into his tiny car?

At a stoplight a few blocks away from her apartment building, the car came to a stop.  Emma considered bailing out of the car and walking the rest of the trip, but she was frozen.  Before she could lift her hand to the door handle, Grant reached over and gripped the back of her head with one hand, pulling her toward him.  He crushed his lips against hers and moved hungrily until Emma’s mouth responded. 

His fingers fisted in her long hair, and his opposite hand moved to grip her waist.  Emma had just reached up to touch the side of his smooth face when Grant groaned and released her, pushing himself back into his seat. 

The green traffic light glowed off of his hard face, and Grant drove off.  Emma shifted in the leather seat and tried to steady her erratic breathing.  She stole another quick glance at Grant, who looked as if nothing happened. 

Her hopes dropped.  Emma could not believe that same, distant man had just given her the greatest and most horrific experiences in just a span of seconds.  One kiss was not supposed to do that to me.

But the pain of breaking away from his heated embrace was too intense and not something she was interested in doing over.  How do people end something like that amicably, she wondered. 

Yet, she desired so much more, and that was shifting her agony into humiliation.  She should have known better than to accept his offer to drive her home.  No more enclosed spaces with this man, she decided, while thinking back to their moment in the elevator. 

Grant pulled his sports car in front of her apartment door, but left it running.

“Good night, Emma.”