Page 8 of The Grump I Married
I sighed heavily, feeling the weight of grief eat at me. “I wish I’d pushed harder on the project while Grandad was still here. There were just so many other things going on with the company.” When Kincaid Energy had made the move into renewables, Grandad had proposed the idea of a wind farm at the estate. If there were two things he was passionate about, they were leaving something better for the next generation and securing a bright future for his hometown of Braeburn.
On more than one occasion, Grandad had mused about the dwindling state of the town: the small businesses were struggling, the young people were moving to Edinburgh or Glasgow or Aberdeen to look for work, and Braeburn was losing the sense of community that had always been its defining characteristic. The town he knew, the one I’d spent my summers in, was slowly disappearing, and I knew it broke Grandad’sheart. He’d been so excited about the possibilities of the wind farm.
We both knew how many jobs the construction and maintenance of a wind farm would create for Braeburn. It had the potential to shift the entire economic status of the town. But we’d barely gotten the plan off the ground before he died. I hadn’t even had the surveyors out to do the site feasibility assessment yet. Grandad would never get to see that dream realized.
But I’d make it happen for him, to honor him, no matter what it took.
“You couldn’t have known you wouldn’t have more time with him,” Locke said.
My jaw tightened as I fought off a wave of regret. “I should have done more. Because now it’s not a simple matter of Grandad selling the seabed rights to Kincaid Energy.”
Locke sighed. “Nah, now you’ve got a marriage-sized hoop to jump through first.”
Without Lochbrae, I couldn’t access the seabed rights. And without those rights, we couldn’t break ground on construction.
“Look, I know this is important to you,” Locke said. “So whatever help I can give, just say the word. Seriously,” he continued. “Keep me posted if you need anything. Not sure I know where to find you a wife, but I can give it a bash.”
I huffed a laugh. “Thanks, mate.”
“Yeah, cheers. Talk later.”
I hung up, dialing Lena again. “You’ve reached Lena Harp at…” I gritted my teeth, waiting for the beep. “Call me back!” I shouted,then hung up, going straight to my laptop, furiously typing her an email.
If you’re so resistant to the idea of marrying me, then fine!Youcan be the one to find me a wife.I grimaced at the idea of having to parade around with some unknown entity on my arm. Would she do the right things? Say the right things? Play the part without causing me more headaches? At least with Lena, I wouldn’t have to worry. I knew her. Itrustedher.Reach out to the women I socialize with and do a soft test of who might be open to a proposal with an iron-clad prenup.
I hit send. Five minutes later, my office door flew open. Lena stood there, lip curled back over her teeth, shoulders arched up by her ears. She looked angry enough to spit fire.
“This is it, Weston. I’m done.”
“What do you mean you’re done?”
“I’m not going to be your marriage-of-convenience bride, and I’m fordamnsure not going to be your pimp. The fact that you would even ask me is the last straw. So now you can add finding a new assistant to your to-do list.” She dumped her laptop and her planner and her Kincaid Energy ID card on my desk. “I QUIT!”
“You can’t quit,”I fired back. My pulse jumped dangerously. I could feel it throbbing in my neck.“You have a contract.”
“Consider this my two weeks’ noticeandyour notification that I’ll be using my allotted two weeks of vacation right the hell now.”
Pain throbbed in the side of my head as I tried to comprehend her words. She couldn’t be serious. Of all the times to be without my assistant.
I leaned across the desk. “You. Have. A. Contract,” I snarled.
“Sue me.”
My frown deepened into a full scowl. “Maybe I will,” I shouted.
“Have fun with that,” she shouted back.
She turned and stalked toward the door. My hands trembled against the desk as fiery heat surged through me. “You work for me!”
“NOT ANYMORE!”
3
LENA
“You didwhat?” Tess cried.
I sipped my celebratory just-quit-my-job iced latte as Tess, my long-distance bestie, gaped at me from the other end of our video call. “Walked out on his entitled ass.”
