“I was talking about your ass, Gia.”
It took a minute for her to figure out what the hell I meant. But I knew the minute she did. A storm swept the calm sea blue of her eyes into dark churning waters. She took a step back, and I thought she was turning to walk away. That is, until I realized she was only winding up to smack me straight across the face.
He had some balls.
Giant ones. The kind that I wouldn’t miss if my foot happened to attempt a swift kick. Which I definitely hadn’t ruled out.
I seated an older couple at a table and watched from a distance as the asshole flirted with a woman at the bar. He’d been standing there since he walked back inside with my handprint etched into his face. Obviously the sting in my heart hurt more than what my hand had done to him, since he was already laughing and flirting, enjoying himself while I continued to stew.
The woman got up, and Rush’s hand went to her back. There was a familiarity in his touch and in their interaction. She was probably one of his summer fucks. He guided her to the stairs that led up to the roof while I gaped from a distance.
She was definitely older than him. I’d guess late thirties or even early forties. Unlike the other woman I’d seen hanging around the bar drooling over him, this one wasn’t dressed like a whore. She had on a pair of jeans, rolled at the ankle, and a baggy, oversized T-shirt that hung almost to her knees. A pair of flip-flops with a big daisy flower on each donned her feet, rather than the usual stilettos his casual fucks seemed to like to wear.
Are you shitting me?
He had the audacity to speak to me the way he had outside, and now he just casually moved on to some May-December hookup right under my nose?
No.
Just no.
Weaving through patrons, I made my way to the stairwell. Running up to the rooftop, I could feel my pulse racing.
I stopped upon the sight of Rush pulling out a chair for his lady friend before sitting down across from her. They looked very comfortable together, and he was—dare I say—smiling like a fool.
My blood was boiling. I watched intently as he walked over to the bar and ordered her a glass of wine, bringing it back to the table.
My breathing was ragged as I continued to stand in the entrance observing them from afar—until I lost it.
Storming over to the table, I huffed, “Are you kidding me right now?”
Rush stood up suddenly and held out his hands in an apparent attempt to stop my outburst. “Gia…thi—”
“No!” I refused to back down. “I’m sorry. I’m not gonna shut up.”
“Gia!” he yelled louder.
The bar was crowded, and no one seemed to be paying attention to this confrontation aside from Rush’s date whose eyes were fixed on me.
Ignoring his plea, I got in his face. “What kind of a game are you playing? One second you’re outside asking me if I’ve ever been fucked in the ass and the next second, you’re upstairs wining and dining some woman? What’s wrong with you?”
His date cringed.
Rush gritted his teeth. “Stop!”
“No, I wo—”
He lifted me off my feet. Before I knew it, I was being literally carried out of the bar area.
Kicking my legs, I screamed, “What do you think you’re doing?”
He didn’t answer me as he continued on to the hallway by the stairwell and put me down before backing me up against a wall.
His eyes were searing into mine, but he said nothing as customers brushed by us to enter the rooftop area.
Still bleeding jealousy, I panted. “Who was that woman?”
He stared at me for several seconds before he finally spat out, “That’s not a woman. That’s my mother!”
A rush of blood suddenly coursed through my veins.
No.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Your...” I cleared my throat. “You’re lying. That’s not…she’s…I just…oh…oh, no…no.” I held onto my head with both hands. “I didn’t just say that…in front of your mother?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “Yes, you fucking did.”
I was panicked. “Oh God. Rush, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
Rush looked like he was ready to blow.
“Get back to work,” he demanded. “And stay the fuck off the rooftop.”
“Rush…” I pleaded.
Seething, he started to walk away, leaving me in the hallway. He turned around, and when he saw I hadn’t moved, he barked louder, “Go!”
I didn’t know how long I’d been staring into space before Oak interrupted, “You okay, Gia? You look pale.”
It was just about closing time. Rush hadn’t come downstairs once since I’d made an ass of myself—no pun intended—in front of his mom. Even though I’d wanted to just go home, somehow, I’d managed to muddle through the rest of my shift.
Turning to him, I felt like crying. “I screwed up, Oak…in a really big way.”
Oak pulled up a chair next to where I was standing. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“I really don’t want to say.”
“Let me guess. This has something to do with the boss?”
Rolling my eyes, I said, “How ever did you know?”
“Wild guess.” He sighed. “I don’t even know what happened, but I suspect it involved Rush blowing his top over something?”
“Oh, he blew his top, alright.”
Oak looked almost entertained by my dilemma.
He began to tell me a story. “So…my daughter, Jazzy...she’s in fifth grade, right? I got called to the school the other day because there’s this boy who’s been bothering her…teasing her, pulling her hair…stuff like that.”
“Yeah?”
“The boy’s mother showed up at this meeting, too. You know what she told me? She said all this kid talks about at home is Jazzy. He seems to have a crush on her, but he has a funny way of showing it.”
I joked, “What ever are you getting at, Oak?”
He raised his brow. “I think you can draw your own conclusions there.”
Feeling flush, I said, “Well, tonight had nothing to do with Rush’s feelings or lack of feelings toward me. Tonight was one-hundred percent my fault.” Blowing out a breath, I decided to tell him what happened. “I assumed that Rush’s mother was his date earlier, confronted him in anger upstairs, and said something really bad in front of her. I can’t ever take it back, and I’m pretty sure he wants to kill me now.”
“Ouch. Okay. Wow. Well…first of all, I suspect the boss wants to do a lot of things when it comes to you, Gia, but murder isn’t one of them.” He laughed. “Anyway, how bad could it really be? What did you say that was so awful?”
I shook my head. “I can’t even repeat it. Ironically, I was paraphrasing something he said to me privately. I want to throw up.”
“Well, let’s back up for a second. The good news is…Melody is very down to Earth. She probably laughed it off. She doesn’t strike me as a prude. I’m sure Rush has explained the situation to her by now.”
“What situation? That he has a nutjob working for him who yells out sexually explicit things in the middle of a crowded bar…in front of his mother?”
“Sexually explicit? Dang. Sucks to be you.”
“Yeah. Dang. It does.”
“I’m kidding.” He laughed.
Sighing, I said, “Seriously, I don’t even know what I would say to her if she were standing in front of me.”
His eyes gestured to behind my shoulders. “Well…now’s your chance to find out.”
What?
I slowly turned to find Rush’s mother standing there.
My heart dropped. “Oh…hello, Mrs.…Ms. Rushmore.”
“Please call me Melody, Gia.”
She knew my name. Then again, Rush had yelled it out in a failed attempt to stop me from making a fool of myself.
God, she was really pretty. Her shoulder-length, light brown hair was colored ombre, blonder at the
ends. Her blue eyes were glowing. She sort of reminded me of a young Goldie Hawn. And she was short—like me. It was weird to think that this little woman pushed a big guy like Rush out of her.
“Hello.” I smiled awkwardly.
Oak seemed amused. “Good to see you, Miss Melody. Looking beautiful tonight, as always.”
She waved. “Hi, Oak.”
He stood up like he was rearing to leave. That was not good, because he was the only buffer I had.
Please don’t go.
Oak then slipped away, leaving me alone with Rush’s mom.
She was the first to speak after a brief moment of silence. “My son forbade me from coming to introduce myself to you, but unfortunately for him, he’s not the boss of me.”
Her smile definitely calmed me down.
“I’m really glad you came to find me. I didn’t have the guts to do the same because I feel awful, like really mortified about what I said to him upstairs in front of you. That was so disrespectful and not language I typically use. I had no idea you were his mother. Quite honestly…you look way too young. I assumed you were his date and I was…jealous.”
“Well, flattery will get you everywhere.” She grinned. “I understand you were upset. No harm done. We’ve all said and done things in the heat of the moment.”
She smiled again and I smiled back.
“Anyway, I can’t tell you enough how much I regret my words. I’m sorry for making a scene.”
“I appreciate your apology, but it’s really okay.”
I looked around. “Where’s Rush?”
“He got caught up in some business…something about a liquor delivery that was supposed to have been made before tomorrow, but it never showed up. I took advantage…came and found you. Hope you don’t mind.”
“No, not at all.”
“Am I interrupting you at work?” she asked.
“No, my shift just ended, actually. It’s closing time.”
“My son explained everything to me, that you didn’t know who I was and that he actually provoked your outburst earlier. I suppose I should be apologizing for his behavior toward you.”
It surprised me that Rush took any of the blame and that he had been so open with his mother. Still, it was me who made the scene out there. I made the decision to use that language in front of her. There was no way I was going to let this all fall on him.
“I take full responsibility for what I said. It’s not like me to use such language so freely, especially in a public place, and especially at my job. Sometimes things get heated between him and me. Your son…well…he’s driving me a little crazy.”
Melody nodded in understanding. “I don’t envy you there. He’s not an easy one to navigate, my Heathcliff.” She closed her eyes briefly then covered her mouth in laughter. “I mean, Rush. Sorry. Old habit. He’d kill me if he knew I just let that slip.”
“It’s okay…I know Heathcliff is his real name.”
She looked shocked. “He told you?”
“I got it out of him, yeah.”
“Good for you.”
After a few seconds of awkward silence, I said, “So…I’m out of luck, huh?”
She bobbed her head to the side. “How do you mean?”
“In the romance department? Your son’s a lost cause?”
“I didn’t say that. When I say he’s not an easy one…I just mean he’s not easy to read. It’s not always easy to get him to open up. My son has a big heart. But that’s not something that people can figure out very easily about him. He’s complicated, and it just takes a while to peel back his layers.”
“I’m definitely learning that.”
“Rush has learned a lot of tough lessons. He’s been hurt by people who are supposed to love him. Even though he acts like he doesn’t care about that, it’s definitely had an effect on the way he lives his life, with his guard constantly up.”
I frowned. “I know all about his dad, yeah.”
She was examining my face. “He’s fond of you.”
My heart sped up. “He said that?”
“No, not in so many words. But he seemed very concerned that I would think negatively of you. It’s not like him to talk to me at all about women he’s friendly with. His personal life is just something he’s always kept to himself. But he told me a little about you over dinner…told me you’re a writer.”
“He did?”
“Yes.”
That reminded me…
“By the way…” I said. “I want to thank you, actually. Rush once told me that when you get stuck in your art process, that you sometimes go to see a movie to break out of your funk. I actually tried that once and it worked. After that, I had one of the best writing days I’d had in a long time.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful. Yes, that’s one of my strategies for sure. I’m glad it worked for you, too.”
“Do you come visit him here at The Heights often? I haven’t seen you here before…obviously.”
“I drive out here once every month or two.” Melody was delicate and soft-spoken, not at all like her son. “I wanted to capture the sunset over the ocean on canvas tonight.”
“You painted here tonight?”
“Yes. Rush set up my easel upstairs on the roof earlier.”
“That’s so neat. Can I see what you made?”
She looked thrilled that I’d asked. “Sure.”
I looked around nervously for Rush as I followed her up to the roof. She led me to a canvas painting that was leaning up against the wall in the corner.
She held it up to show me. “It’s not exactly perfect, but I’m happy with how it came out.”
With blends of orange, purple and yellow, she had beautifully captured the stunning colors of the evening sunset over the beach. Smudges of paint accurately portrayed the clouds in the sky. I couldn’t begin to fathom how she’d made the ocean so realistic with a mix of green, blue, and white tones. It somehow looked like the water was moving across the canvas, coming into shore. My favorite part of the whole painting was a single and elaborately detailed seashell with brown and white lines drawn throughout. It was just laid out on the sand, which she’d meticulously painted in beige hues. Even though the shell was small, it seemed to be the focus to which all else served as the backdrop.
“This is so beautiful. I am seriously in awe that you have the ability to sit down and casually paint something so amazing on a whim. How long did it take you?”
She placed the painting on the ground, leaning it against the table leg. “About an hour-and-a-half. But you know, it’s not always that easy for me. Maybe you go through this with your writing, but some days you’re just on, right? You can feel the creativity oozing from your veins, and you just need to drop everything and take advantage while it’s there. That’s why I needed to come to the beach tonight.” Her eyes were filled with passion as she spoke about her art.
This woman is amazing.
“I so get what you’re saying, Melody,” I said. “I used to feel like that from time to time when I first got the idea for this book I’m writing. The first three chapters just poured out of me, very organically like that. And then once I started to apply pressure on myself after I landed the publishing deal, nothing has been happening.”
“Rush said that you write in the romance genre?”
Once again, I was surprised he’d gone into that much detail with her.
“Yes. Contemporary. Well, if I can ever get going again, yeah.”
“Nothing like pressure to hinder creativity. I can relate. A few of my pieces have been commissioned in the past. There’s definitely a difference between creating something out of your own free will versus obligation.”
“Exactly.”
“You’ll find your way—your inspiration, Gia. It will happen.”
Can I keep her?
“Thank you. I hope so.”
We stood there just staring at each other momentarily. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she really liked me, too
. I wasn’t ready to let her go. Melody Rushmore fascinated me.
The words just fell out of me. “I would love to see more of your paintings sometime.” I hoped I wasn’t being too forward as I anticipated her response.
“Well, you’re welcome down to my house whenever you like. I have a studio there filled with art.”
“Honestly? I would really love that.”
Rush came up behind me. “What’s this, now?”
He reeked of smoke. My pulse raced. I couldn’t gauge his reaction to my hanging out with his mom. But I played it cool.
“You’re taking me to see your mom’s studio. I want to see her paintings—all of them.”
His brow lifted as if to challenge that. “Is that right?”
I crossed my arms. “Yup.”
“If I’d known you two were conferring, I would’ve hurried my ass up,” he said.
His mother was grinning at him. “Gia and I have a lot in common.”
“Yeah, you’re both pains in my ass,” he teased, winking at Melody.
She must have been used to his sarcasm because she didn’t react to that statement. I was relieved that he didn’t seem too mad anymore.
“Are you heading back home tonight?” I asked her.
“No, I’m staying for a couple of nights.”
“We go to her favorite pancake breakfast place every year when she comes out for her birthday weekend,” Rush said.
I turned to her. “Tomorrow is your birthday?”
“It’s today, actually.”
“Oh my gosh. Happy birthday!”
“Thank you. Rush had the chef make a special dinner for me. Salmon Oscar. It was very yummy.”
It warmed my heart how protective and sweet he was being toward his mom. I really loved this side of Rush. If only he wasn’t an insensitive prick the other half of the time.
He reached into his pocket and handed his mother a key. “Here. Take this and let yourself in.”
She asked him, “Are you coming home tonight?”
Apparently, she knew her son enough to know that there was a chance he wouldn’t be coming home. Probably figured he’d be staying at some skank’s apartment.
“Yeah. I’m just gonna finish up some things here. I’ll meet you back at the house. You can leave your art stuff here. I’ll pack it all into my car and take it home.”