The homeless girl and the CEO

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Chapter Twenty Nine

Jordan's POV


I lifted my head in annoyance when my office door was suddenly flung open without any advance warning.


I should have known but yet still I was surprise, because grandpa is never in the building, at this hour.


"Won't your beautiful wife be waiting for you?" I asked, making my point by staring at my watch.


Tilting his head with a light chuckle, "oh she's aware that I'll be having lunch with her favourite grandson." Grandpa responds, whilst walking towards the sitting area in my office, with two bags and the stench of cheese in the air.


"I've already eaten," I retorted, making no move to join him.


Leaning back in my chair, I watch him lay out two boxes on the small table in the centre of the room, aware that he's here to rope me into something I don't want to do but if grandma knows he's here, then she's supporting whatever, crazy notions he has running through his head.


Chuckling, I finally move to join him, "you really know the way to a man's heart, don't you?" I chuckle when he places a bottle of JD and two whiskey glasses beside the lunch he bought.


Turning around with a smirk, "it was your grandmother's suggestion," he laughs before sitting down and breaks the seal of the bottle, before pouring us to drinks.


"Ice?" I asked, walking into the kitchenette, attached to my office, returning with an ice tray that's half full.


Adding ice to my drink, my grandfather observes me cautiously.


"Now care to tell me what we're toasting too?" Leaning forward, I wait for him to state his reason for being here.


Lifting his glass with a broad smile on his face and his gray eyes twinkling, reflecting the joy he felt.


Stiffening myself, aware that when my grandfather is excited about something to do with me, it's always disastrous for me.


"Well?" Grandfather raised any eyebrow, motioning at my glass, "lift your glass," he reminds me, while I stare at him warily, aware that this motherfucker is up, to no good.


"Humor me," grandpa suggests with the same smirk playing on his lips, when I didn't join him at first.


Deciding to humor him, I lift my glass to his and wait to hear his toast.


Twerking an eyebrow. focusing on him, doubtfully.


"To you and Leah Morrison," Grandpa says, gleefully.


Gasping in shock at his words, my eyes lowered impulsively to the drink in my hand.


Without knocking his glass in support of his toast, I gulped down the entire drink and started pouring another, before glaring at my grandfather, who stares back at me with uncertainty.


Lifting my glass to him, "this isn't me toasting." I responded angrily, "this is me expressing my feelings about your toast," I continued taking another huge gulp of the JD, emptying the glass, to quickly refill it.


Silent grandfather is not to be underestimated.


I met grandpa eyes and realize he's calculating, all of this and I might have just played into his hands.


Mellowing down, "you know that there is no Leah and I right?" I said, fulling aware that my actions yesterday didn't fool my father or my grandfather.


Fooling around with office staff is not my thing and never will be.


Straightening himself in the sofa, "oh," grandfather chuckles dryly, "my bad." He adds and I frowned at him, using a slang that's, not from his era.


The old motherfucker has something else up his sleeve.


Lifting his glass once again, I wait for it to drop.


"To you and Ms. Finley." Grandpa toasted with less enthusiasm than he did, when mentioning Leah's name.


Leaping to my feet, "fuck no!" I yell and picking up the bottle of JD, I walked across to my desk.


He bought this to bribe me and even if it's not working, I'm keeping it.


Standing up, grandfather joined me, holding his untouched drink.


"Jordan," grandpa calls with an exasperated sigh. "It's one or the other," he adds, tilting his glass to and fro, in front of my face.


"Do you want me to finish that for you" I nod to his glass, "or are you trying to hypnotize me, to do your bidding?" I added, eyeing him suspiciously.


Grandpa, stared downwards at my words, while I took another drink.


"Would it work?" He chuckles dryly and pulls a chair in front of my desk.


Wincing as the whiskey hits the back of my throat, "nothing you said today, will work in your favor." I retorted, icily.


Nodding, grandfather, places his untouched, drink on my desk and shoves it towards me, with a slight shrug.


"I'll discuss it with your grandmother and we'll have dinner with the Finley's soon." Grandpa promises, standing up and walks away from my desk to the doorway, aware that my mood has just gone from bad to worse.


Jolting myself up angrily. "NO!" I barked but grandpa kept walking, ignoring my outburst for the first time.


Suddenly, he turns around, to stare at me with a bland expression, lifting his hands out, facing his palms upwards and like a scale, balancing them.


"Ms. Finely, Ms. Morrison," Grandpa says but I sense, it's to provoke me.


Dropping his hands, curling his lips in frustration.


"I'll propose Ms. Morrison to Derek's family and.." trailing off he throws the other part in the air for me to catch.


"Derek?" I stare at him in disbelief.


Shaking my head, "you can't do that," I warned grandpa, softly.


"I promised to keep Leah safe and I am going to keep that promise," Grandpa says with determination. "I'm not sending her back to Seattle without a fiance, so I'll be meeting Derek's parents, tomorrow." Grandpa turned and walked out, leaving me with trouble thoughts.

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