Exquisite

Trisha’s jaw dropped and she picked her purse up. “I’m gonna go.” She turned to Mason, leaned in, and kissed his cheek. She whispered, “Call me,” but he was too busy glaring holes at the infuriating woman in front of him to care. Trisha turned and walked away without either of them noticing.

  “Excuse me? This is my place, in case you’ve forgotten,” Mason said in a deathly whisper.

  Lena didn’t back down, however. She moved in close and asked, “Have you?”

  He blinked at her and tried to focus, but the alcohol was swirling through his head and his eyes kept losing focus. “Have I what?”

  “Forgotten that this is your place? You look horrible.”

  Mason’s mouth snapped shut and he stood. “Fuck you.”

  He watched as she tossed her hair back over her shoulder and reached out to take his glass of scotch. She downed it in a quick gulp, placed the glass back, and sneered at him.

  “I’m sorry, that option is no longer available to you, Casanova.”

  She might as well have just said asshole. “What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “I’m here with work. I was about to leave when Wendy begged me to rid you of the fungus growing on your arm.” She paused and looked him over again in a way that said she didn’t find one thing about him appealing.

  “Do yourself a favor, Langley. Go home and take a shower. Shave, cut your hair, and pretend to be the man you used to be. At least for the people around you.”

  He moved in closer, infuriated by her. After all, knowing she was telling him the truth and hearing it were two totally different things.

  “Where do you get off telling me what to do?” he hissed, leaning down at her. “What right do you have?”

  She didn’t budge. She tilted her head up, glared at him, and said softly, “None. But there are at least three women who care about you and give a shit about what happens to you. So pull yourself together.”

  He narrowed his eyes and breathed in her familiar vanilla scent. “Wendy and Rachel will love me no matter what.” And that left the third. Did she mean herself?

  “So that means it’s okay to disappoint them?”

  He shook his pounding head and whispered, “You disappointed me.”

  Lena swallowed and nodded, “I know, Mason. Don’t do the same thing to them.”

  He flinched and watched as Lena turned, picking up her purse. She motioned for Shelly, who was standing very quietly behind her, watching everything with narrowed eyes. She turned around to storm out without even receiving the drink she’d asked for. He glanced at Shelly and she shook her head almost as though she were disappointed—whatever, he thought—then called after Lena, “Don’t do me any favors.”

  Lena stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. “I didn’t do this for you.” And with that, she left.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  The first month after Catherine’s death passed by slowly. Lena wasn’t sure how she functioned day after day when her heart no longer seemed to work. Her days were long, and her nights seemed longer.

  After that night at Exquisite, Lena had made a conscious decision to avoid Mason and anyone or anything to do with him. That was the only way she saw herself dealing with the finality of their relationship. Shelly had been great; she wouldn’t talk about Mason, ask about him, or suggest anything even remotely related to him.

  Lena continued to visit Carly daily, and she found that her sister was in fact the best person to confide in. Every day she confessed how much it hurt to wake up and make herself go to work and be social with her colleagues, and pretend she was doing fine. Fine, that was such a loose and misused word, and each day she found herself looking at the corner store to see if there was a picture of Mason on any of the stands. When she realized she was doing it, she got pissed off and walked into work in a foul mood.

  It was Friday night, a week before Christmas, and her parents were coming down to spend Christmas Eve with her. She was sitting on her couch trying to watch the TV but her mind kept wandering. Over and over, she’d asked herself if she’d done the right thing. Should she have told him about his mother and her condition, even after Catherine had asked her not to? It was such a messed up situation that there didn’t seem to be a right answer.

  What did it matter now, anyway? He never wanted to see her again. He’d made that abundantly clear when she’d gone to drop his key off at his condo and the doorman had called up and Mason had told her to leave it at the desk and he’d pick it up. If that didn’t scream I don’t want to see you, she didn’t know what did. She felt her eyes starting to close when the buzzer to her condo sounded. Startled, she sat up and looked at the time. It was 10:43 p.m. Standing, she made her way over and pressed the intercom button.

  “Who is it?” Lena asked sleepily.

  “Mason. Can I come up?”

  Sighing, Lena closed her eyes and counted to ten. Then she reached out and pushed the button again. “Yes, that’s fine.” she told him, and then buzzed him up. When he finally arrived at her front door, she opened it to find him standing with his hands stuffed in his pockets and a burgundy scarf wrapped around his neck. There was snow on his shoulders that was quickly melting and when she finally met his gaze, she noticed even his eyelashes looked wet from the moisture.

  She looked tired. That was the first thing he noticed when she pulled the door open. Lena stood in front of him in grey sweatpants and a black long-sleeved fleece. Her hair was pulled up into a topknot bun and her feet had on black socks. His eyes met hers and she stood silently holding the door.

  “Hello, Lena.”

  She moved from one foot to the other and then stepped back, deciding what she wanted to do. “Hi. Come inside.”

  He brushed past her and caught the familiar vanilla scent clinging to her. He heard the door shut and turned to face her. She was standing with her back against the door and her hand on the doorknob. She looked wary but curious. He moved to the opposite wall, leaning against it and looking her over.

  “You look tired.” It wasn’t what he meant to say, but it just came out.

  “It’s nearly eleven p.m. I was half asleep on the couch,” she defended, lifting her chin slightly.

  “Do you mind if I take my coat off?” he asked, starting to feel particularly hot.

  She shook her head while her eyes ran over him as he did. He knew he looked better than he had the last time she’d seen him. Since then he’d shaved, cut his hair, and pretty much started up a regular grooming routine again. However, he was still drinking more than he should. He draped the coat over the back of her couch and then resumed his spot against her wall. The space between them seemed to stretch for miles. He’d never thought there would ever be a time where there was such an uncomfortable silence between the two of them.

  “What are you doing here, Mason?” She paused and then added, “You made it pretty clear you never wanted to speak to me again.”

  He winced and nodded. “I know. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”

  “If?” she asked in disbelief and then she seemed to mellow. “Well, it doesn’t matter because I hurt you first.”

  He looked right at her, locking eyes with her and said honestly, “Yes, you did.”

  She didn’t flinch. She just stood there rigid against the door, gripping the handle as if it was a lifeline. She swallowed and stated bluntly, “I don’t know what else you want from me.” She bit her bottom lip and continued, “I’ve said I’m sorry. I gave you back your key. I’ve stayed the hell away from you. What else, Mason? What do you want?”

  He stood tall and moved toward her. He stopped when there were a few inches between them. He didn’t reach out, he didn’t touch her, but he looked down and shook his head.

  “Nothing. I don’t want anything from you.”

  Sucking back a deep breath, Lena felt the tears well in her eyes. She’d promised herself she would not cry in front of him. She blinked quickly, trying to keep them back, and tried to turn her sorrow into anger. How coul
d he be so cruel?

  “Why are you being so mean?” She paused and watched him tilt his head to the side as if he didn’t understand.

  “I get it, Mason. I know you don’t want anything to do with me. It was pretty obvious when you told the doorman to take my key. Did you really need to come here to tell me you no longer want anything to do with me?”

  He shook his head and she watched his mouth flatten. “I suppose I said that wrong, then. What I meant was I don’t need you to do anything else. I know you’re sorry. I understand you feel terrible. I know you weren’t trying to be malicious with what you did.”

  Lena let out a shuddering breath and raised her eyes to his. She still had a death grip on the doorknob and he was standing like a statue in front of her.

  “Then why are you here?”

  She watched him swallow and turn to walk back and lean against the wall. She noticed for the first time how different he looked since the last time she’d seen him. He was starting to resemble the old Mason, except his eyes were still too cold and the expression on his face had lost its usual warmth. He had, however, shaved and cut his hair and was wearing jeans and a grey charcoal sweater with a burgundy scarf which draped down around his neck.

  He crossed his arms over his chest and spoke steadily. “We finally read Mom’s will yesterday.”

  Lena literally stopped breathing for a minute and then made herself take a deep breath, wondering where this was heading. She remained silent, waiting for him to continue.

  “You were in it,” he continued.

  Lena finally let go of the doorknob, raising one hand to the side of her face and the other to cover her mouth, which had fallen open. “I don’t understand.”

  Mason’s eyes focused on hers and seemed to pin her to the door. “She left you a portion of Precious Petals.”

  Feeling her eyes widen, Lena couldn’t breathe. She felt as though she was starting to hyperventilate.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her hesitantly.

  She heard Mason talking through the ringing in her ears. Leaning down, resting her butt on the door, and putting her hands on her knees, she dropped her head between her legs and tried to focus on her breathing. Why would Catherine do this? What did she, Dr. Lena O’Donnell, know about running a flower shop? Plus she wasn’t even part of the family and she definitely never would be now. This was a nightmare. When she finally had her breathing under control, she straightened back up and her questions must have been in her eyes because Mason answered them.

  “I don’t know why she did it. All I know is that she did.”

  Nodding, Lena tried to think of what to say. “Well, I’ll give it to you or to Rachel. Surely, I can give it back to you?”

  She watched him shake his head. “Nope, part of the clause is that you’ll help run and overlook the store for a full year and then if you choose to sell or give it to us after that you may. However, you’ll still be given seven standard-sized sunflowers per week for the rest of your life.”

  “Oh, my God,” Lena said slowly, now holding her chest. Blinking at him, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I had no idea she’d done that.”

  He pushed off the wall and grabbed his coat. He shrugged it on and made his way toward her, presumably to go out the door in which he had come.

  “I know. None of us saw it coming. Except her.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sealed envelope. It had her name written in cursive on the front. “We all got one, even you.”

  Lena reached out to take it and when she gripped it, he spoke softly, “I wanted to rip this up and I wanted to read it, but none of it compared to how badly I wanted to use it as an excuse to see you.”

  Her eyes flicked up to his and she could see through her blurred vision that he was trying to decide whether to continue or leave it at that.

  He let go of the envelope and whispered softly, “I want to forgive you Lena. Every day I try. I just can’t right now.”

  Lena felt a tear slide down her cheek but she refused to wipe it away. He stepped back and she moved away from the door, clutching the letter. He opened the door and stepped outside into the hall. Turning in the dim light cast down the empty corridor, he looked at her silently, and she thought he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

  “My new number is on the bottom of the envelope.”

  Lena nodded and watched him walk away, wishing there was something, anything she could do to make him stay.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Christmas had come and gone. Lena’s parents had come down to visit on Christmas Eve and that had gone well. It was the first Christmas in years where Lena had been able to discuss anything relating to her sister. The only ache in her heart this time around was caused by a six-foot-three man who was still not speaking to her. Her mother had asked about Mason but she hadn’t known what to say, so instead Lena had told her about Catherine, cried, and then hugged her mother. Somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to tell her that she’d known all along that Mason’s mother was sick. She couldn’t bear the judgment that would cross her mother’s face as it had Mason’s.

  Lena had just got back from her run and was sitting down taking her shoes off when she looked across the room to the desk by the window. Sitting on top of the mail was the envelope Mason had given her. Lena had procrastinated over opening the letter for the last few days. Not knowing what could be in that letter, she found herself almost terrified to find out. So yeah, she still hadn’t had the guts to open it. Sighing, she kicked off her shoes and leaned back on the couch. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to imagine what Catherine had possibly wanted to say to her. She knew she took first place when it came to putting things off, but this was something she knew she had to do.

  Lena decided she would go to visit Catherine and she would take the letter with her. Standing up, she padded into her bedroom to get her coat and looked to the dresser where the picture of Carly sat. She remembered the night Mason had first asked her about Carly and Lena had not been very receptive, and if she were being honest, she now found herself in a similar situation. Mason was hurting; she knew the grief he was suffering was so deep that it was hard to crawl out of, and she also knew that she hadn’t helped the issue. No matter which way she looked at it, there wasn’t any other way she could have handled it. Either way, whether she’d told him or not, someone would’ve been hurt or disappointed. In the end, she’d chosen to go with her professional opinion, but unfortunately, Mason didn’t want to hear that. She grabbed a coat and walked back out to the living room. Picking up the envelope, she stuffed her feet into her boots and made her way out the door. It was time to go and talk to an old friend.

  Mason’s head hurt. He was lying in bed and the sun was beaming through the window, hitting him right in the eye. Last night had been rough; he’d gone down to the local nightclub and had a few too many scotches on the rocks. This had become a ritual for him. He found it difficult to sleep at night. Nightmares seemed to plague him and they were filled with phone calls and a strange man who would tell him his mother had died. So yeah, drinking himself to sleep seemed like a much better idea. Until the morning, that is.

  His head was throbbing, his mouth tasted horrible, and quite honestly, he felt miserable. He hadn’t shown up at Exquisite three nights this week and he knew Rachel was going to kick his ass, not to mention what Wendy was going to do. Mason knew he’d been slacking. He had no excuse and honestly, he didn’t care. It seemed like the last two months of his life had gone to shit real quick. He didn’t really see a way out. There was no way he could bring back his mother, there was no way he could forget the pain of betrayal, and he was starting to think there was no way he would ever be able to forget her. He should know; he’d tried. No matter how much liquor he drank or how many women he looked at, all he thought about was Lena.

  He’d tried over and over to tell himself that what she’d done had not been done maliciously but no matter which way he looked at it, the fact that she?
??d known something was wrong with his mother killed him. Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair and groaned as his stomach lurched. Yawning, he stood and stretched his arms above his head and that’s when he heard the knock. He walked to the door slowly and the knocks sounded again.

  “All right, all right, I’m coming,” he grumbled as he moved toward the door quicker.

  “Open the damn door, Mason!” Wendy yelled back. Mason yanked the door open and glared at Wendy, who was standing on the other side with a tray of coffees. She pushed her way past him and moved into the living room, placing the tray down on his coffee table. She looked over her shoulder and glared at him. He pushed the door and it slammed shut.

  “Do you mind?”

  “Do I mind? Where the hell have you been the last three days?” Wendy demanded as she pointed at him. Mason put his hands on his hips.

  “Listen here, Exquisite is mine. If I want to take a day off, I will! I don’t need your permission.”

  “That would be fine and dandy, but it’s been three days and you haven’t bothered to call anyone!” she yelled back at him.

  Mason scratched his head and walked over to her. “Look, Wendy. I just need a fucking break. Do you think you could give me that?”

  Moving in close to him, she jabbed his chest with her finger. “You listen to me, Mason Langley. You weren’t the only one who lost their mother.”

  “I know that,” he hissed.

  “Really? Because you don’t act like it. You leave Rachel to run all the expense reports as well as cook every single one of those the amazing desserts in that restaurant you both own, without a thought in the world to how she feels.”

  Mason’s chest was starting to hurt where she was poking him. He stepped back and raised an eyebrow. “Look, I’m really sorry but I just can’t be there right now. I can’t be fucking anywhere.”

  He walked around her and moved to the window, looking out at the people below walking down the street and crossing to get into the park. He wondered how it had all gone so wrong. He heard movement behind him and knew she was walking over to stand beside him. She took a deep breath when she stopped by his side, reached out a hand, and took his. He turned his head to look at her. “God I miss her.”