87 Grandma’s Plan, A Startling Gaze
“Grandmother, perhaps Elara doesn’t want to discuss work right now,” Damien intervened smoothly. “She’s been busy all day.”
“Come,” Eleanor announced, standing up. “Both of you join me for a walk in the garden before bed. The night air will do us good.”
The bedroom appeared empty. Relieved, she stepped out and moved quickly toward her bag on the chair.
“I…” she began, uncertain how to proceed.
With no graceful way to refuse, Elara retreated to the living room. She pulled out her phone and messaged Julian about their project.
“Thank you,” Elara murmured. “For not telling her about my resignation.”
She was typing a response when Eleanor’s voice startled her.
Damien looked at the thermos, then at Elara. “She’s staying, isn’t she?”
“I should go back to my apartment,” she said quickly.
When dinner ended, Eleanor stood decisively. “Cora, show me those new books you mentioned. Elara, you rest. I’ll handle the kitchen.”
Eleanor patted Elara’s hand. “Of course, dear. We can chat about that another time.”
Damien’s expression remained neutrál. “Mother, I’m sure Elara has been-”
*Julian: Good luck escaping her clutches! Don’t forget we have the investor meeting Tuesday.*.
Damien watched the interaction with an unreadable expression. He made no move to intervene as his grandmother continued her fussing.
*Julian: How’s it going with the dragon lady?*
Later that evening, Elara entered the master bedroom with trepidation. The space felt foreign now, though she’d shared it with Damien for years. She gathered her nightclothes and headed to the en–suite bathroom:
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# Grandma’s Plan. A Startling Gazo
Flara fire at the sound of Damien’s voice. She turned slowly to find him sitting in the armchair by the window, his laptop open on his lap. Ilis eyes met hers directly, then dropped briefly to take in her bare legs before returning to her face,
Elara felt a wave of panic. Eleanor staying meant maintaining their façade. It meant pretending everything was normal between them.
“Nonsense, Eleanor repeated firmly. “A woman needs her strength.”
“Apparently,” he confirmed, “She mentioned something about spending quality time
with us.”
“I brought special supplements from Switzerland,” Eleanor announced, reaching into her handbag. She pulled out several small bottles. “Perfect for boosting energy and immunity. I’ll make you both a nourishing soup tomorrow.”
Elara hesitated, listening for sounds in the bedroom. Hearing nothing, she assumed Damien was still in his study. She wrapped a towel around her waist and cracked open the door.
“Nonsense!” Eleanor cut him off as she fussed over Elara. “Sit down, dear. Let me serve
you
Without waiting for her response, he turned and walked back toward the house, leaving Elara standing alone in the garden.
“You know she won’t allow that,” Damien replied. “She’ll insist you stay here while she’s
visiting.”
The towel suddenly felt inadequate. Her tank top clung to her still–damp skin, and the towel barely covered what it needed to. She stood rooted to the spot, caught between embarrassment and something else–something that made her heart beat faster as Damien’s gaze remained fixed on her.
Elara quickly lowered her phone. “Just a quick message.”
Elara bit her lip, “But where will I sleep? I’ve been using Cora’s room, but-”
“No need,” Eleanor replied. “Flannah already prepared it. You two enjoy the evening air a bit longer.” She reached into her pocket and handed Damien a thermos. “Share this soup. It’ll help you both sleep well.”
Elara caught Damien’s eye across the table. His lips quirked slightly, almost
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87 Grandma’s Plan, A Startling Gaze
sympathetically.
Eleanor moved closer, settling beside her on the couch. “Damien tells me you’re doing- wonderfully at Thorne Industries.”
“The master bedroom has plenty of space,” Damien stated matter–of–factly. “I’ll be in my study most of the night anyway.”
Under the hot spray of the shower, Elara tried to calm her nerves. She could handle one night in the master bedroom. Damien had said he’d be working late. She would likely be asleep before he came to bed.
Before either could respond, Eleanor was heading back toward the house, leaving them alone in the garden.
“Both of us?” he asked.
“That’s not necessary,” Elara began.
Stepping out of the shower, she dried off and put on her sleep tank top. She reached for her pajama pants, then realized with horror she’d forgotten to bring them into the bathroom. They were still in her overnight bag in the bedroom.
After fifteen minutes, Eleanor turned to them. “I think I’ll retire now. It’s been a long day of travel.”
“Yes, both of you,” Eleanor confirmed. “You work too hard as well, Damien. Those dark circles under your eyes aren’t becoming.”
“Work again?” The older woman stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
Elara froze. She hadn’t told Eleanor about resigning from Thorne Industries to work full–time at YodaVision. She glanced toward the doorway, where Damien now stood watching them.
Damien’s eyes remained fixed ahead. “She doesn’t need to know everything.”
Elara shot Damien a surprised look. Why had he covered for her?
The garden was beautifully lit with small pathway lights. Eleanor walked ahead, leaving Elara and Damien trailing behind her.
*Elara: She’s determined to fatten me up. Says I’m too thin.*
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87 Grandma’s Plan, A Startling Gaze
The realization hit Elara suddenly. “Oh no… she’s planning to stay?”
Dinner proceeded with Eleanor dominating the conversation. Cora happily chatted with her great–grandmother, leaving Elara free to focus on her meal and avoid direct interaction with Damien.
The cryptic response hung between them as they continued their silent walk.
“You should have told me Elara was looking so thin,” she scolded, moving directly to Elara’s side. “Look at her!”
Elara smiled despite herself.
“I’ll show you to the guest room,” Damien offered.
“It absolutely is,” Eleanor insisted. “Go relax.”
Eleanor Thorne swept into the dining room with the energy of a woman half her age. She shot a pointed look at Damien.
“Looking for something?”
“Eleanor, really, this is too much,” Elara protested weakly.
Before Elara could protest, Eleanor was piling food onto her plate. The older woman’s hands moved with practiced efficiency, selecting the choicest pieces of roast chicken and adding generous portions of vegetables.
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