Dr. Grant (Off-Limits)

“I’m sorry, Amara. I think it’s a great idea, but there are other investments that would be more profitable. I thought this might have potential, but I don’t see how it’s any different from what’s already on the market. I’m looking for something groundbreaking… and this isn’t it.”

My heart races as I look at Wilson, my investor. “What are you saying, Will?” I murmur. He’s one of my oldest friends and he’s been on board with my plans from the very start. What changed? He never said anything any of the times I told him about the progress with my prototypes. If he thought the product wasn’t good enough, then why didn’t he speak up sooner?

“I can’t invest in your company. There are just too many other projects that are more profitable. I was trying to do you a favor, but in the end, this is business, Amara. I’m sorry.”

Desperation claws at me as my hands start to tremble. I clasp them together tightly. “I can improve the prototypes, Will. There isn’t much I can’t build.”

Wilson shakes his head, and his expression tells me there’s no hope. He won’t invest. “Why now? You had months to pull out. Months that I could’ve spent finding someone else. Why would you do it now?”

I see guilt flash through his eyes and look away. It isn’t my intention to make him feel bad. I just want to understand. I shake my head and take a step away. “It’s okay. Thank you for your time.”

I turn and walk away, pausing when I hear Wilson call my name. “Amara,” he says, his voice soft. “I’m sorry.”

I smile tightly and nod as I walk out of his office, my heart breaking. I’m back at square one. Without an investor, there’s no way I’ll ever be able to get my company off the ground, and I don’t trust Grandpa. I don’t trust that he’d fully support me without an agenda. I can’t ask him for help.

The sky lights up with lightning as I step out of Wilson’s office building and I look up at the clouds as rain comes pouring down, matching my mood perfectly. A humorless laugh escapes my lips, the sound tinged with desperation. I’m trying so hard… I’m working as hard as I can, but it’s never enough.

I grab my phone to text Leia to meet me at a bar not too far away from here, needing a pick-me-up. Or maybe just getting wasted will do tonight. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling like everything I do is in vain.

My phone buzzes straight after I send the text, and I click open the app assuming that it’s Leia replying. I freeze when I find another text from the number I’ve come to recognize as my father’s.

I’m not sure you’re receiving my messages, but if you are: I hope you’re having a great day today, sweetheart.

I swipe the message away, ignoring it. Does he realize that hearing from him just makes an already shitty day even worse? I don’t know how he even got my number, but every time he texts me, my heart breaks a little further. It’s the last thing I needed today. I swallow hard and try my best to inhale deeply, not wanting to lose control over my emotions again. Lately it feels like I’m barely in control of my life, and I’m tired of feeling this way. I’m tired of all the roadblocks in my carefully mapped out plan. I’m tired of pain that I thought had healed bringing me to my knees once again. I’m tired of all of it.

The world passes me by as I walk through the streets, my steps slow, rain drenching me entirely. My clothes stick to my skin and a chill runs down my spine as sorrow overcomes me.

I stand still in the middle of an empty sidewalk, my eyes falling closed. At least I’ve got that going for me. The hot tears that stream down my face are drowned out by the rain to the point that I can’t even tell if I’m crying or not. It’s a strange feeling to be choking on sobs yet not feel tears fall from your eyes.

I’m startled when the rain stops pouring down on me and open my eyes, my gaze lifting to find golden brown eyes filled with concern. “Dr. Grant,” I whisper, my voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

“Amara,” he says, grabbing my hand. He lifts it up and wraps my fingers around his umbrella before letting go and shrugging out of his jacket. “You’re soaking wet. Are you okay?” he asks, wrapping his jacket around my shoulders. It smells like him, and it’s still filled with his warmth. Somehow, the gesture just makes my tears fall even harder, and I start to sob all over again.

Before I know it, Dr. Grant has his arms wrapped around me, and my face presses against his strong chest. His umbrella falls to the floor, the rain drenching us both.

“Amara,” he murmurs, his grip around me tightening. He buries one hand in my hair and wraps the other around my waist. The way he’s holding me… when is the last time someone hugged me like this? “Did something happen?”

I shake my head and throw my arms around his neck, hugging him back tightly, selfishly pressing my cold wet body against his, stealing his warmth. Dr. Grant just holds me like that, his hand moving over my back, never complaining about the rain.

When I pull away, he lifts his hands to my face and cups my cheeks, his thumbs swiping at the wetness on my face. He looks into my eyes, and we stand there together. The way he’s looking at me… it makes me feel like I’m not alone. Like he understands, even though he couldn’t possibly.

“I’m sorry, Dr. Grant. That’s the third time you’ve caught me in a less than desirable position.”

He smirks at me and brushes my wet hair out of my face. “Not at all,” he murmurs. “Far from it. Besides, isn’t there some saying about meeting trice being fate?”

His words bring a smile to my face, distracting me from the pain I’d been lost in. How does he do this to me? No one has ever had this power over me, making me smile just seconds after I cried my heart out, and he doesn’t even know it. I take him in, my eyes roaming over the white t-shirt he’s wearing. The rain has made it entirely see-through, and my eyes linger on his well-defined muscles.

“Feel better?”

I nod and drag my eyes back up to his. “Yes, thanks to you. You seem to be my knight in shining armor, Dr. Grant.”

He chuckles, and the sound washes over me, awakening a spark deep within. “Oh, I’m no Prince Charming.”

I grin at him. “I called you a knight. You upgraded yourself to a prince all by yourself.”

He laughs again, and this time my heart skips a beat. “I’m glad you seem better now. Do you want to talk about it?”

He genuinely seems interested, and it confuses me that someone might actually care. For years now I’ve only ever been known as Harold Astor’s granddaughter, and almost everyone that approaches me has an agenda of some sort. Yet somehow, Dr. Grant seems different.

“My investor informed me he’s withdrawing his support,” I tell him honestly, my eyes filling with fresh tears. I let my eyes fall closed, trying my best to compose myself. “The toy… it was a prototype that I truly believed was going to be the start of an amazing company, but it all seems to have been for nothing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Amara. Don’t give up hope, though. These things have a way of working themselves out. Besides… you strike me as the type of woman that’ll find a way.”

I look into his eyes, surprised by the faith I see in them. So far, almost every single person around me has acted like my company is just a hobby, something cute that they entertain. This is the first time that someone other than Leia is taking me seriously. “Thank you,” I tell him, and the way he smiles makes my heart skip a beat.

I take a step back and straighten, suddenly feeling embarrassed. I probably look like a mess, and Dr. Grant… well, he looks like him. Gorgeous. Dangerous.

“What brings you here anyway?” I ask, unable to suppress my curiosity. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt. It’s a stark difference from the suits he wore the last two times I saw him.

He tips his head toward the building behind me and smiles. “The gym. My gym is in that building. I’ve been fighting some demons of my own, and a good workout session always makes me feel better.”

I follow his gaze and nod, flustered. I’m always so composed, courtesy of years and years of mind-numbing socializing with boring socialites, but in front of Dr. Grant I turn into someone I barely even recognize: myself.

“Come on,” he says, bending down to grab his umbrella. “Let me walk you home.”

I shake my head and smile. “Actually, I’m meeting a friend of mine at a bar nearby.”

Dr. Grant nods. “All right, lead the way. I’ll take you anywhere you need to go.”