He felt Rachel squeeze his fingers as the minister started the service. Mason’s eyes stayed on the flowers the whole time. He couldn’t bear to look at anyone else. He didn’t want to feel their pity or their sorrow, so he just focused on the tulips. He listened as the minister spoke of what a wonderful and warm soul his mother had been and how kind and open she was with everyone she met, which brought Lena to his mind. He pushed her out of his thoughts and gripped Rachel’s hand tighter.
It’d been four days now since he’d told Lena to leave and he hadn’t seen or heard from her since. It had been the longest stretch of time they’d been apart since they had started seeing one another. Feeling Rachel sob and hearing the minister now give his mother’s body over to the earth he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her in tight. In a way, being able to focus on comforting and holding Rachel seemed to help him keep his emotions in check. Finally, the funeral was over, and everyone was walking back to their cars to make their way to the restaurant where they were holding a small gathering for friends and family.
“Do you want me to wait for you?” Wendy asked, looking at him.
He shook his head and looked down to Rachel. “No, but can you take her back with you?”
She reached out and took Rachel’s hand in hers. “Sure. Come on, hon.”
He watched as they linked hands and walked to one of the remaining cars. When he was left standing next to the fresh dirt, he finally let himself cry again. He’d known he would, but he’d wanted to be strong the last few days for his sister and to get the necessary things done. His heart ached with the burden of things to come and the loss of his beloved mother.
Shifting a little to the left, he saw something black out of the corner of his eye. Believing he was alone he was surprised when he turned to see Lena standing at the back of the rows of chairs. Her hair was pulled into a tight bun that sat low on her neck and she was wearing a long black wool coat that was cinched at her waist. . In her hand, she held one sunflower and she stood still as a statue. He couldn’t see her eyes because sunglasses covered them but he felt her gaze on him, watching warily as though she wasn’t sure of the reception she would get.
Turning back without saying a word, he felt her move closer toward him. It seemed like it had been an eternity when he felt her finally stop beside him. He didn’t turn and didn’t say anything so when she spoke he was surprised.
“I know you don’t want me here.” She paused as if waiting for him to confirm her statement, but he could neither confirm nor deny it because he couldn’t answer it himself.
“I just wanted to pay my respects and bring her the one gift she has always given to me.”
How could he possibly argue with that? He’d known Lena had shared a distant but loyal friendship with his mother for years before becoming almost a part of their family. Watching her bend down to place the bright yellow sunflower on the brown dirt, he sucked in a deep breath. He knew how hard it was for Lena to visit cemeteries. He knew she didn’t deal with death well—especially of loved ones. He knew that right now his abandonment in the face of losing Catherine had to be killing her, but there she was placing the flower down for his mother. He was about to say something—he didn’t know what—when she stood back up and faced him.
“I know you’re angry with me but I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Looking at her, he wanted to tell her that it might be never. How could he forgive her for not telling him his own mother was sick? Instead, he stayed silent and watched for the second time, after that night at his house as she walked away.
Three weeks passed and Lena found herself going through the motions of living, but deep down inside she felt as though she were dead. Not only had she lost Catherine—who was probably the only person in the world who had understood her before Mason—she had lost him, too. She hadn’t heard anything from him, not a single word. Really, she hadn’t expected to, but knowing it and then living it were two totally different things.
He was gone. Shelly would tell her she needed to accept it and move on. Lena wanted to do just that; the problem was, she didn’t know how. Brushing past Brandy, who was already at her desk this morning, Lena noticed that her receptionist was avoiding her whenever she looked at her. Brandy used to smile back and chat with Lena all the time, during the period of time she now referred to as The Mason Period. Slouching down in her chair, she opened her email and read one from McKinney about cocktail hour after work for team morale. Groaning, Lena clicked it open and winced when she saw the location—of course, at Exquisite with an eight p.m. reservation.
Mason was drunk. He’d been surviving on frozen dinners and expensive alcohol and right now, he was halfway through one expensive bottle of scotch. He was sitting in the kitchen of Exquisite with the bottle in his hand watching his employees work around him. This had become a new habit for him. He’d given up his place at the pass, claiming he’d prefer to give someone else the experience. However, that had just been an excuse to sit down every night, which was helpful since he could almost guarantee he would more than likely fall down. He watched as Rachel walked over to him with her apron around her waist and a frown on her face.
She stopped bent down and hissed at him. “You’re drunk! Again.”
Shrugging, he replied, “So? Get off my ass, Rachel.”
Shaking her head at him, she reached out and snagged the bottle.
“Hey! That’s mine.” Mason told her belligerently.
“So is this restaurant but you don’t seem to give a shit about it.” She paused and let out a deep sigh. “You look like shit, Mase.”
“Thanks for the helpful observation there.”
“Do you really think this is what she’d want?”
Feeling his head swirl a little, he swayed and looked at his sister, trying to focus but seeing two of her.
“It doesn’t matter, does it? She’s not here.” Then he mumbled, “And never will be again.”
Rachel placed the bottle on the stainless steel bench beside her. “Are we still talking about Mom?”
He lifted his eyes to hers and stood on shaky feet. “Of course we are. And now we’re done. Give me back the bottle.”
“No,” she replied stubbornly.
“Fine. I’ll just go out to my bar and get another one.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “What are you doing to yourself, Mason? This won’t help.”
He pushed past her and mumbled, “Nothing does.”
Lena sat in the cab beside Shelly and took a deep breath. Looking over at her friend, she shook her head. “I can’t do this.”
Shelly reached over and took Lena’s hand. “Yes, you can. I’ll be right there with you. He knows the hospital staff comes here and I’m sure he’s seen the booking and will stay well out of your way.”
Swallowing, Lena couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. It hurt her physically, to the point where her stomach was tied in knots, to think of being here and not being able to go back and talk to him, kiss him, or touch him. This place held a lot of memories, both good and bad, and she couldn’t help but think tonight’s would be in the latter category.
“Come on,” Shelly said as she opened her door and climbed out. Lena closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and got out of the car. When they walked in the door, she noticed the place was at full capacity. People were lined up along the bar, standing behind those sitting on stools. The tables were all jam-packed and the waiters and waitresses were carefully maneuvering their way through them. The hostess asked if they had reservations and luckily, Shelly spoke up, because it was quite clear Lena had lost all ability to function. It was amazing she was actually still standing on her own. They followed a young blonde woman around some tables to the long setup of tables in the back where most of the doctors had already taken their seats.
Lena’s eyes darted around the dimly lit dining room, trying to see anyone familiar like Wendy, Rachel, or even Mason just so she could slink low into her chair and a
void them. Luck was not on her side, though, because just as the waiter arrived at their table, she saw the frosted double doors push open and Mason come out from behind them.
The first thing she noticed was that he looked terrible. This was not the same man she’d met nearly nine months ago. The man storming through the restaurant with a scowl etched deep into his face and a dark shadow of a beard looked nothing like the easygoing Mason she’d come to know and love. This man looked tired. His eyes had dark circles around them and his hair was longer than usual and falling into his face. He didn’t greet anyone and didn’t smile as he pushed his way behind the bar and reached up to grab a bottle from the top shelf.
The bartender watched him closely, Lena noticed, but didn’t say anything as Mason grabbed a glass then turned to make his way back from behind the bar. Suddenly he stopped and his eyes focused on someone walking through the front door. Lena followed his gaze and froze when she saw the tall redhead she recognized as Trisha standing at the front door. Almost in slow motion, like watching a car wreck, Lena saw Trisha spot Mason, turn on tall black heels, and strut her way over to him.
Feeling the bile rise in her throat, Lena turned to Shelly. “I need to leave.”
Shelly looked at her and arched a brow. “What? Why? Did something happen?”
Lena shook her head and clamped her mouth shut, not trusting herself to say anything. Shelly looked behind her and Lena knew the minute she saw what was unfolding. It must have been worse than when she was looking because a look of pity slid onto Shelly’s face.
“Oh, honey. I’m sorry I made you come. I didn’t realize he was with—”
Lena held her hand up and swallowed, not wanting to hear the words. Her heart felt like it was being squeezed by a tight fist and she couldn’t seem to take a breath.
“Can we just go?” she managed to get out.
Shelly nodded and pushed back from the table to stand. Lena also stood and then turned to find Wendy behind her chair. Swallowing and keeping her eyes away from the bar, Lena looked at Wendy, the woman she had started to consider a good friend.
“Lena,” Wendy said, reaching out and taking her hand. Lena looked down at the fingers squeezing hers gently. “How are you?” Wendy seemed to think better of that and shook her head. “I’m sorry, that was a stupid question. Please don’t leave. I know Rachel would love to see you.”
Lena stiffened. She hadn’t been sure if Rachel would ever want to talk to her again after what had happened and the way things had ended with Mason.
“I’m not so sure,” Lena started.
“Well, I am. Just because Mason is falling off the deep end doesn’t mean we all have to stop talking to you.”
Lena nodded once and couldn’t help but raise her eyes to the bar. Big mistake. Mason had come from behind it and had seated himself in the end corner, where she’d once sat and flirted with him. However, this time he had Trisha sitting on his lap and stroking his hair. Lena must have made some kind of strangled sob because Wendy turned and looked in the direction she was gazing. Wendy quickly turned back to her. “It’s not what you think.”
Lena looked at the woman in front of her and nodded. “Yes, it is.”
Shaking her head, Wendy answered, “No, it’s not. He’s drunk and Trisha has wanted him for months. Even after they broke up and you two hadn’t met, it was definitely over. She doesn’t understand “no” and she’s looking for an opportunity to slip in, and she found it.”
Lena swallowed and turned to Shelly, who was looking over at the two at the end of the bar with a look that was, Lena thought, murderous.
“I need to go,” Lena said, moving to push past Wendy. She felt the manager’s hand on her arm and looked back at her.
“Please don’t. If you ever cared about Mason or Catherine, please don’t leave him alone with her. He’ll hate himself for it.”
Turning, Lena asked, “I don’t understand. What is it you expect me to do? I’m not his keeper. He hates me.”
Wendy shook her head. “No, he doesn’t. He hates what you did.”
Lena sucked in a deep breath and Wendy nodded. “Yes. We all know. We’re family, but he doesn’t hate you.”
Shelly took Lena’s arm and whispered, “I’ll come with you.”
Lena turned toward her friend and looked at her as though she were insane. “You’ll come with me where?”
“To rescue your stupid prince.” She paused, blowing out a big sigh. “Do you really want that slimy witch on him?”
Right now as Lena looked at Trisha clinging to Mason’s neck she thought she didn’t care what happened to him, but that wasn’t true. Although she felt she would regret it, she glared at both Wendy and Shelly, dropped her bag on the seat, huffed out, “Fine,” and marched toward what she knew was about to be an ugly battle.
Mason’s head was fuzzy and Trisha was sitting on his lap stroking his hair like an animal. It was starting really to annoy the shit out of him but he was too drunk to do anything about it. Originally, he’d decided to drown himself in scotch and then Trisha had arrived and he’d changed his mind and decided to drown himself in her instead. Now as he sat here with her clinging to him and petting him like a prized Labrador he thought, big fucking mistake.
“Oh, I’ve missed you so much Mase,” Trisha cooed into his ear.
Her perfume was too flowery and tickled his nose so much he thought he was having an allergic reaction to it. Then he laughed to himself because he thought it was hilarious that he could actually be allergic to her instead. He felt her mouth and her warm breath on his ear right before a tongue flicked out and traced it. He shivered and not in a good way—what the hell was he doing? He was about to push her off, when he heard a woman beside them remark, “Well, isn’t this cozy?”
Mason looked around Trisha’s shoulder and almost pushed her to the floor when he spotted Dr. Shelly Monroe and Dr. Lena O’Donnell standing at his bar. It seemed as though Dr. Monroe had delivered the scathing comment, since Lena was glaring at him with a look of pure disgust. So instead of dumping Trisha on the floor Mason wrapped his arms around her waist and hauled her further onto his lap. Trisha let out an ear-piercing giggle and he watched Lena’s eyes narrow and Shelly arch a brow.
“Evening, Doctors,” he managed, and was impressed he didn’t slur his words.
“Casanova,” Shelly said tipping her chin down in greeting and then glared at Trisha when she giggled.
“Casanova? What does she mean?” Trisha asked, confused.
That’s when Lena decided to step in and unpin her first grenade. “She means he’s a player. Didn’t you know that, Trisha? He was dubbed that in a national article?”
Trisha ran a hand down his chest and Lena watched the move with narrowed eyes and a fury Mason had never seen on her. She looked absolutely murderous, then her eyes turned to him and she just looked disgusted. He couldn’t honestly say he blamed her but he’d be damned if he admitted it.
“Really?” Trisha asked, leaning in about to kiss his cheek. He pulled his head away and Lena rolled her eyes. Trisha didn’t seem bothered and then asked him, “I thought Casanova was a great lover? The ladies all wanted to be the one with him. Maybe that’s why they call you that, Mase.”
Shelly snorted and Lena raised her hand to the bartender. Greg came down and she ordered a White Russian. Mason felt a jolt go through him, remembering a night when he’d made her White Russians. That was the night that had ended with him in her bed for the first time. Lena turned then and moved around Shelly to stop beside both him and Trisha, looking over the redhead as though she were a bug under Lena’s shoe. He also remembered the first time these two had met and it had gone completely differently, because Lena had been intimidated then. Whoever that Lena had been, she was not here tonight. Tonight, pissed off, grenade-throwing Lena was in full force, and she had her target locked on Trisha and him.
“No, Trisha,” she said slowly, as though she were talking to a two-year-old. Shelly was watching from behind
Lena and her eyes were twinkling at him as though she knew he was about to get his ass kicked and she was looking forward to the show.
“One of Casanova’s favorite and most appropriate quotes is, ‘Desire is only kept alive by being denied; enjoyment kills it, since one cannot desire what one has got,’ so what do you think that means for you?”
Mason felt Trisha sit up on his lap and his eyes narrowed over her shoulder at the pissed off Lena. She was fuming mad and she was directing it all, surprisingly, at Trisha. He was sure he was the one that deserved it, and honestly, she was cutting him down by saying he slept around, but right at this moment he almost feared for Trisha’s life. Completely disregarding him as though he was not there, Lena moved in closer, put a hand on the bar, and narrowed her eyes on Trisha.
“And do you know what they say about desperation, Trisha?”
Trisha blinked at her and shook her head. Mason almost groaned, knowing she was walking right into that one.
“It stinks.”
Lena sniffed the air, picking up her glass and taking a sip. “In this case, like a bad floral arrangement.”
Shelly let out a loud laugh and Mason couldn’t help it; he did too. Trisha jumped down off his lap and turned to face him. “Why are you laughing at me? That wasn’t funny, Mason.” she was right; it’d been bitchy, but Trisha was the queen when it came to bitchiness. She was just upset that tonight she’d been out-bitched.
Lena shrugged and looked her up and down once more. “You should cut your losses, Trisha.”
When Lena flicked her eyes to him for the first time that evening, she felt nothing there. They were empty and cold as she turned back to Trisha.
“He’s drunk. He doesn’t really want you. He’s just looking to escape. Do you really want to be that?”
Mason sat up straight now and his mouth fell open. “Hang on a minute.”
Lena’s eyes flicked back to him. “No, you hang on a minute. You should be ashamed of yourself.”