In Your Arms (2 page)

             
“How bad is it?” I asked the older nurse.

              “I've seen worse cases. She's more lucid than any of the other Alzheimer's patients we have here, but she does get confused around night time. If you visit in the morning, she'll be more likely to talk to you and understand who you are.” I nod.

              “Thank you.”

              I visit my grandmother, Elizabeth, a couple times a week. We have conversations about everything; Baking, family, and even me. There are times though that she believes that I'm some woman named Joan, she won't tell me who she is when I ask.

              I get all the grocery bags into the kitchen and put everything away quickly. I really wanted to do recon on Mr. Clancy's grandson. I needed to know if I was going to have to deal with an asshole who has no respect for women.

              My laptop is sitting on my bed, where I left it to charge, and I immediately go onto this guys website. The website is very corporate, obviously meant for guys. This guy has an application on his page that says how many views he's had since he's started this page. It's millions.

              I press the most recent post. Stupid Rules. I could already figure out what this is about by the stupid title.

              “Women have rules. They always have and they always will. As men, we're supposed to figure these out from the moment we start realizing girls exist. Women are born with these rules integrated in them, or maybe it's just passed on from generation to generation. The great thing though is that these rules never change, and I've asked several woman since my last post to let me in on some of these rules are. Some of them are questionable, others are just plain stupid, so here they are men, 10 rules girls think we must know and follow, and use them wisely. I have also inserted some of my opinions about them clearing up what it really means.

              1. They always know the truth (Lies, half the time they are half assing it just like us. They know how to get the truth, but they're just playing a game until the truth actually comes out of us, tricksters they are.)

              2. Impressing them one time isn't enough. (Well, duh. That's why we have to start little or else they expect too much of us.)

              3. Sometimes they really don't want to talk. (This is a lie. They're angry and want you to figure out why. They may not be angry at you, or they might be, but they just want you to put in even more effort to figure it out.)”

              I stopped reading. This guy was getting me very angry. I shut my computer down. As long as we didn't interact, we'd be fine. I wouldn't have to worry about punching him in the face every time something came out of his mouth.

              My phone began to ring, my parents still paid for it, I'm sure they were keeping tabs on me without actually interacting with me. Disowned but still on a leash. I answered the number I've known since I got to New York.

              “Hello?”

              “Miss Pennington, it's your grandmother.”

              “What is it?” I felt my heart stopped.

              “She's asking for you, and says that it is very important you come see her today.” I sighed with relief. Every time I get a call, I fear the worst, that she's died.

              “I'll be right there.”

Chapter 2

Braxton Wright

              I smiled at the flight attendant who was passing by. She has a good rack on her, and I know she unbuttoned a button on her blouse since I first started eying her. As much as I wanted to, I was above actually fucking her in the loo. Maybe something could happen after we got off the plane, I could go to her hotel...

              “Can I get you anything else, Mr. Wright?” I was pretty famous on the internet for running a blog for men. It gets a million hits a day, so people know who I am. Especially now that I got offered a book contract, and will be doing interviews and living in New York for the next year.

              “I'm good.” I could see her blush as she fawned over my English accent. American girls were all the same. Once they hear the accent, their panties will drop at a moments notice.

              “If you need anything, I'll be right here.” The tiny blonde touched my shoulder, squeezed it, and walked away.

              “Seriously don't know how you do that man.” My best friend, Charles, says as he checks out the blonde.

              “It's a gift and a curse.” He rolls his eyes at me.

              “Oh, shut up. One day a girl is going to have you on her leash.” He likes to make predictions even though he is wrong almost all of the time.

              “Never going to happen. Why be tied down to one woman when I can have the pick of the lot. It wouldn't be fair to all those single women if I got serious into a relationship.” I shuddered at the idea of that. This was an idea I've always had as a child. I knew I was good looking, and I took advantage of that.

              “I'll bet you a hundred dollars. Just watch, she'll come out of nowhere and knock the wind out of you. I will be two steps behind and laughing my ass off.” I smacked Charles in the back of his head.

              “Keep talking like that, and I'll fire you as my literary agent.” I signed with Charles literary agency, and I told the head person that I wanted him to be my agent, so I got him. I was their biggest client and giving them exposure with my millions of fans without a book. They gave me a very huge advance, and I signed on.

              “Like you would.” He knew I was joking. I wouldn't have the heart. We've been best friends for years. We've been through everything together, don't know what I'd do without him. Probably starve.

              “Don't try me.” I joke and we laugh.

              “Enough with the jokes. I have to go over our very tight schedule that starts as soon as we land since you chose a mid day flight.” Charles dragged me around places, and made sure that I was where I was supposed to be at all times. It was important more now than ever since I had meetings daily. In a month, I'd be doing be doing a press tour and going on big talk shows.

              “Lay it on me, mate.”

              “Soon as we get our bags, there will be a cab waiting to take us to your grandfathers apartment, why you insist you stay with him is beyond me when you could just stay in the spare in my-” I cut him off.

              “My mother wants me to check up on him. He's an old man, and not as in shape as he was before. I'll only be there until my apartment is ready.” Charles already lives here in New York, and has been living here for the past four years. His career in publishing demands it, and he's quickly climbing the chain of command.

              I recently made the decision to move here so I could focus on my book and I wouldn't have to travel back and forth for the last of my editing. Of course, my apartment still wasn't completely furnished yet, landlord assured me that it wouldn't be more than a week after I arrived. When my mother heard, she mentioned that I should just stay with my grandfather, who I haven't seen in years, and make sure that he's still in the right state of mind. I'm sure she just wants him to sign away his possessions to her, she always has motives especially when it involves money that she needs her hands on.

              Don't get me wrong, I love my mother, but she's greedy. She'll gladly admit it as well. I think she just has a fear of living unstable again.

              “Fine.” Charles says. “Thirty minutes after we arrive, we'll take a cab to Eager Publishing, and you'll work with Mark, your editor. You'll work with him for two hours on the last of the editing, and then you'll go to dinner with yours truly. Lastly, you'll be free to do whatever you want afterward, but don't go too wild. I need you sober and well for tomorrow.”

              “As if I'd be hung over for the day I finally get my manuscript.” After today's editing, it'll be sent to print just a few copies for all of us on the team to read. To say I was excited was an understatement.

              The book, The Man Who Knows It All (A Guide for Men), is set to release in a month and a half. The cover is simple, and I already have my autograph perfected to sign books quickly and efficiently. Nothing was going to ruin my happiness for the next two months.

              “Grandpa.”  The little man gives me a hug as I come out of the cab. He looked smaller since I last saw him, or maybe I've grown.

              “Braxton, Charles, how was the flight?” Charles grabbed my bags and walked in. He sure was serious about this whole on time thing, he nearly had a coronary because our taxi was late picking us up from the airport.

              “He's in a hurry, sorry. It was long, but fine. How have you been grandpa?” When he was in his days, he used to be a real good investor. He made himself and others a lot of money. A lot of it he put into trust funds for his children and then grandchildren. I got access to half of mine when I turned eighteen.

              “I've been good.”

              “Not too lonely, I hope.” We start walking into his building.

              “No. I have nice chats with my neighbors. We all take care of ourselves here.” I roll my eyes. I'm sure half of his neighbors don't know who he is.

              This building here in Manhattan is known for old people with lots of money. I'm sure there was no one here under fifty in this building.

              “Mum wanted me to talk to you about moving back to London.” He laughs. He hasn't been to London in fifteen years.

              I pressed the elevator button and looked at my grandfather. His health seemed to be deteriorating slowly, he was soon to be 80. My grandfather has been very successful in life, a happy marriage, had six children, my mother was the youngest, and he made himself enough money to last two lifetimes.

              “I'm happy here, nothing will ever send me back to London. Tell your mother that.” That's where my grandmother grew up and they lived, but she died about fifteen years ago. That's when he decided to move to America.

              “She's just worried about you.”

              “I'm fine. Tell her that.” The doors finally opened.

              Charles was standing there with the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Her dark and long brown hair was in a braid, she had minimal make up, natural beauty, she has big gray eyes, and she was flawless. She was wearing yoga pants, a sweater and running shoes, and I've never seen anyone wear them so well. Holy fuck. I needed this woman in my bed.

Chapter 3

Ashton Pennington

              Apparently, my grandmother had a bad episode. She got violent and couldn't remember where she was, then she became lucid. Having realized what happened, she called a lawyer and got the nurses to call me.

              “You're making me in charge of your life?”

              My grandmother, gray and small, grabbed my hand. She has brown eyes just like my father. Every day they get filled with more and more confusion. It's been heartbreaking to watch for the past three months.

              “I trust you. I'm leaving you everything, including the penthouse. Screw what your father says. I have enough money to last you a lifetime.”

              “You don't have to do that. I've been doing great taking care of myself, I have a job.” She shakes her head.

              “I feel that my time is near. I wouldn't feel right if you were left with nothing. You still need to finish college and raise children. Plus, I need to do this now before I really can't remember anything and have no lucid moments. I need to do this for myself.” She pats my hand and gave it a squeeze. “Lets do this.”

              We signed papers and I went home. My home. Officially, it was my home. I lived there and my dad couldn't kick me out. Well, not everything would be officially mine until she died, which I hope wasn't soon, and I was okay with that. I could still work, and make my own money until then, still prove to my father that I could make it on my own.

              I decided to go to my friends apartment, new friend not old rich friend. Her name is Callie, and she works with kids at the recreation center as well. She invited me to her apartment down in SoHo after a day of knowing me, and we just laughed most of the time. She's kind and smart, and I am so glad that I met her.

              I stepped onto the elevator and slowly went down. It stopped on the third floor, and opened up to a really hot guy. He was looking at his phone then looked at me. His eyes were frozen on mine. I smiled.

              “Hi.” I managed to squeak out.

              “Well, hello.” English accent and a smirk. Holy fuck. This must be Mr. Clancy's grandson, the evil sexist bastard, but a very hot evil sexist bastard.