fine, at least physically,” he said, the outrageous encounter with his grandmother earlier this morning stoking his annoyance. “But thanks to you, she’s gone off the deep end.”
Ethan heard a clinking noise and looked around to see that the receptionist, no, rather her executive assistant, had returned bearing a dainty tea service that looked almost comical in his oversize mitts.
“Great. Our tea is here.” Tia smiled as her assistant poured steaming green liquid into two small cups, and then dismissed him with a thank-you.
“Did you hear what I said?” Ethan asked, flummoxed at her placid expression.
“Of course. You’re standing right in front of me.” Her soothing tone was a cross between one a parent adopted to cajole a stubborn toddler and one used to talk a jumper down from the ledge of a tall building. “It’s good to finally meet you, Ethan. Oh, you don’t mind if I use your first name, do you? Carol’s talked about you so much over the years it seems silly to call you Mr. Wright.”
“Fine,” he said. “Now—”
She cut him off. “Come on, have a seat and try your tea. Then we’ll talk.”
Ethan plopped down in the club chair in front of her desk. The damn tea appeared to be the last hoop he had to jump through before he could have a conversation with the woman, so he picked up the miniature cup and swallowed the contents in one gulp.
Hopefully, the minty concoction didn’t contain a mind-altering substance that would make him as batty as everyone else in this place—and the stranger now masquerading as his grandmother.
“Now, can we finally talk about what you did to my grandmother?”
“Go right ahead.” The woman eyed him over the rim of her cup as she took a sip of tea.
“When I gave my grandmother a gift certificate to your spa for her birthday, I’d expected she’d come away with a manicure and a new hairdo,” he said. “But I barely recognize her.”
“I know. Isn’t it wonderful?”
“It’s a nightmare,” Ethan said.
Tia frowned. “I don’t understand. I’m usually restricted to the office, but because Carol’s a friend, I either supervised her services or handled them myself.”
“Then, Dr. Frankenstein, you have created a monster.”
“Monster?” The words came out in a gasp. “That’s impossible. She looked amazing when she left here. Fifteen, maybe even twenty years younger.”
His grandmother looked different, all right, Ethan fumed. Two weeks had passed since she’d redeemed her gift certificate, and he still had to do a double take when he looked at her. However, the change in her appearance, though disconcerting, wasn’t the problem. It was the seemingly total transplant of her personality from a sweet, pie-baking granny to a septuagenarian hooligan.
“Yeah.” Ethan snorted. “She looked sixty and was acting like a delinquent teenager.”
He watched in dismay as a look of pure glee came over the woman on the other side of the desk’s face. Apparently, she still hadn’t grasped the seriousness of the situation.
“My grandmother has gone from spearheading church bake sales and garden-club meetings to staying out to all hours partying and doing who-knows-what.” As Ethan explained, he could almost see his straitlaced grandfather turning in his grave like a rotisserie chicken. “Last week, she went to a honky-tonk down on Broadway and didn’t get home until the next morning.”
He paused when he heard what sounded like a snicker from the other side of the desk.
Ethan cleared his throat. “This isn’t a laughing matter, Ms. Gray,” he said. “Your so-called makeover is responsible for this new behavior of hers, and I want to know what you intend to do about it.”
She placed her teacup on the desk.
“Absolutely nothing.” Her soft voice held a steely edge that didn’t bode well. “Even if I wanted to, and I don’t, your grandmother is a grown woman.”
“One you seem to have heavily influenced. Every sentence out of her mouth these days starts or ends with ‘Tia says’ or ‘Tia thinks.’” Ethan mimicked his grandmother’s voice.
“Regardless, Carol has her own mind. I wouldn’t dream of trying to tell her what to do.”
“Not even when I had to pick her up from jail last night.”
“Jail?” The woman straightened in her chair.
Finally, he’d gotten her attention.
“Yes, jail,” Ethan confirmed. He’d still been struggling to reconcile his God-fearing grandmother with the stubborn hell-raiser he’d fetched from the downtown detention center. “Now, will you talk some sense into her?”
Tia sighed. “I’ll touch base with Carol.”
Ethan was relieved to see no traces of her earlier amusement.
“I expect you to fix this, Ms. Gray.” He left off an unspoken, but heavily implied, or else.
* * *
Tia swallowed a sip of tea, along with a sharper retort to his demand. “I already told you I’d speak with her. That’s all I can do.”
Ethan stood, and again, she tried not to notice how easy he was on the eyes. If she had a type, the man in front of her would be it. Then again, what woman didn’t like tall, dark and delicious?
Until he started to talk, Tia thought. If you could even call barking orders talking.
“Then I suggest you be extremely persuasive,” Ethan said in a tone instantly neutralizing the effect of his potent good looks. “I look forward to seeing my grandmother return to her old self.”
Tia watched his broad back as he strode out of her office. Everything in his commanding manner was confident she’d do as he’d directed.
She sighed, and she would.
Strip away the overbearing arrogance and he was simply a man worried about his grandmother, Tia reminded herself. Now she was worried, too.
Carol in jail. The mental image didn’t fit the kindhearted nurse who years ago had cared for Tia’s late mother during her losing battle with cancer.
Tia looked up at Max, who’d returned to the office.
“What’s his deal?” he asked.
“Family problems.”
“What makes them your problems?”
“He’s Carol Harris’s grandson,” Tia said.
Max’s eyes widened as he made the connection. “Ah, the Tina Turner transformation,” he said, referring to the makeover that was so stunning it had earned its own name throughout Espresso
