Stolen:The Billionaire Deception(12)

"I haven't said."



"Oh that's right."



"What is going on with you and the CEO?"



"Nothing. We haven't been out since Thursday."



"But, you've seen him at work. Did you tell him that you couldn't see him?"



"I tried," I said. It was true. It was a half-assed effort, but I had tried.         

     



 



"You tried? What does that mean?"



"I told him it wasn't a good idea that we saw each other."



"And?"



"And he stated a very strong case in favor of it …  sealing it with the most incredible kiss I've ever experienced."



Grant rolled his eyes, "OMG!"



"Stop it. I like him, Grant."



"And what happens when you crush his father to dust?"



"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. What if he's the one?"



"Wouldn't that be ironic? You wait half your life for the chance to get   your revenge on these people and you end up in love with one of them."



"I'm not in love with him."



"Yet. What happens if you are in love with him when all of your plans to take this company back come to fruition?"



"Once again, I'll cross that bridge if and when I come to it. Besides,   I'm not finding anything worthwhile the way I'm going about it. Maybe if   I get close to Seth, I can find something out that way."



"Ay yi yi," he said, rolling his eyes. "I love you."



I smiled. "I love you too. Thank you for letting it go."



With a heavy sigh he ladled more vegetables onto his plate and said, "I   can't promise to let it go forever. If I see it affecting you in a   negative way … "



I reached out and covered his hand with mine. "We'll deal with that if   and when we come to it, okay?" He nodded and I said, "So what's her   name?"



"Juniper."



I tried not to smile. I know it was juvenile of me and it was just plain   mean. A person can't really help what their name is …  of course I did   change mine, so I'm assuming she could too …  "Isn't a Juniper like a bug   or something?"



"It's a plant!"



I lost my battle, I laughed. Grant gave in and laughed with me. I love   spending time with him. Sometimes I worried when we both do get into   relationships that I'd lose my best friend. I really hope not. I   wouldn't know what to do without him.





***





I was up bright and early the next morning. I showered and dressed in a   pair of jeans and a long-sleeved green t-shirt. People don't realize   when you're a true red-head with green eyes, how hard it is to buy   clothes. There are so many colors I can't wear. Anything red or orange   or pink is out. Most people have to match their clothes and shoes; I   have to match mine with my hair. I wore a pair of short tan boots with a   flat sole that would make getting in and out of the saddle easier. I   pulled my wild hair back into simple ponytail and with more butterflies   in my stomach than really had a right to be there, I left to pick up my   date.



Seth lived on the upper west side of Manhattan. I wasn't even a little   bit surprised about that. I'd expected his address to be somewhere   pricey. I pulled up in front of the townhouse and debated whether or not   I should go up to the door. It was a huge place and I assumed his   father lived there too. I still didn't know if I was ready to come face   to face with James. I took out my phone and started to send him a text.   Right in the middle of it I decided that was not only rude, but  slightly  juvenile. Sucking up my apprehension, I got out of the car and  stood  there looking up at the five story Renaissance Revival style  townhouse  with its turrets and rounded windows. I thought about the  house I'd  grown up in. It was big, just like this one and if James and  Seth Hunter  weren't living in this house right now, maybe I'd be living  in mine. I  tried to shake off that thought as I made my way up the  steps towards  the massive oak doors with the stained glass windows. I  reminded myself  that Seth had been a child at the time, just like I  was. He didn't steal  my father's company. He wasn't guilty for the sins  of his father.



I stood at the top of the stone steps wondering what the hell I was   doing. I was about to knock on James Hunter's front door. I must be   insane. I turned and looked down the cozy tree-lined street. The houses   were all big and wide and built in early 1900's style. I wondered how   long they had lived here. Did the money he made stealing my legacy buy   this place for him. As I stood there letting my mind run off on a   tangent, I heard the door open behind me. Sucking in a breath and   praying it wouldn't be James, I turned around. There was a woman   standing there in a freshly starched gray and white dress.



"Can I help you, Miss?"



"Yes, I was looking for Mr. Hunter," I said, quickly adding, "Seth."         

     



 



"Yes, Mr. Seth is here. Can I tell him who is calling?"



"Erin," I said. She continued to stare at me so I said, "Summers. Erin Summers. He should be expecting me."



"Please come in," she said, stepping back to allow me to enter the gold   and black marble tiled foyer. The ceiling stretched up about thirty  feet  and a heavy crystal chandelier hung in the center of it. A  staircase  with a heavy oak banister spiraled up five stories just to  the right of  us. Everything was so clean and polished that it shone so  brightly it  almost hurt to look at it. "I'll be right back," she said.  She  disappeared down the long hall and while I was alone, I took the   opportunity to look around at the artwork on the walls. The paintings   looked to all be originals and some of them were Monet's. The whole   place reeked of money. Some of it had to be old money I assumed. Even in   its heyday, my father's business couldn't have sustained all of this   alone.



"Hello, Erin." I turned towards the voice and saw Seth coming towards   me. I was glad that I didn't have heart trouble because the sight of him   in a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt might be enough to kill a woman   with a weakened heart. His biceps bulged out underneath the short   sleeves of the shirt and the jeans emphasized his long, muscular legs.   He also had on a pair of black boots. He looked like a demi-God. He was   gorgeous. It was really no wonder that he was so full of himself.



"Hi Seth. Are you ready?"



"I am," he said, grabbing a black denim jacket out of a closet near the front door.



He reached over and opened the door for me and I stepped out, sucking in   a lungful of the fragrant spring air. I felt like I'd been holding my   breath the entire time I was in there, waiting for James to appear. "Do   you live in this big old house alone?" I asked him, on the way down  the  steps.



"No. My father lives here too, sometimes. It's a family house. He stays   where he feels like it. I should get my own place, I know. But, we   hardly ever even run into each other. I have the entire second floor to   myself and Dad and I aren't home at the same time a lot so I stay."



"It's a beautiful home," I told him.



"Thanks. My mother decorated it herself. She was really into decorating.   We haven't changed anything since she passed away. I suppose some of  it  may be outdated, but it's nice sitting on the things she picked out  or  seeing a painting on the wall that she loved." I knew how he felt. I   wish I had been able to keep more of my parents' things to remember  them  by. Once we were inside the car he said, "So where are we going?"



"Pelham Bay Park," I said.



He raised an eyebrow, "In the Bronx?"



"Yes. Is Mr. Upper West Side too good for the Bronx?"



"Stop it," he said with a smile. "I'm not a snob. I just haven't been to   the Bronx in a really long time. Not because I'm too good," he said   with a smile. "I just haven't had reason to go, I suppose."



"Well today you are going and you're going to love it." As we drove I   decided I was going to try and gently coax information out of him to   make myself at least feel a little better about dating the enemy's son.   "So, when I was doing my research on Hunter Corp, the history only goes   back about eleven years. What did your father do before that?" I could   see an almost imperceptible change in his posture out of the corner of   my eye. The mention of his father made him sit up straighter …  stiffer  in  his posture and more serious in his expressions.