Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72231 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“And you will be delivering them?” His face is hard from my confession.
“Yes.”
“Good. Think about my other offer.”
I pause, take a deep breath, and choose not to say another word. Just as I go to step past him, he moves into my path.
“It was a pleasure, Cora Ashford. I look forward to our next meeting.” Waving a hand, he steps out of my way and lets me pass him. As I do, I get a hint of his cedar and musk cologne, which is intoxicating.
The moment I step outside, Matty has the car door open, and I climb in without saying a word.
I need to get away from here.
I need to get away from all of this.
“Usual visit, miss?” Matty asks, and I nod my head as he starts driving.
Have I been propositioned by a man before? Sure. But never a man like Arlo Graves.
I’m not even sure what to make of it.
How would it work?
And why would I ever consider it?
I don’t really know the man. Yes, I’ve heard stories, and I do find him very attractive—you would have to be blind not to see how good-looking he is—but a man like him also raises red flags. Things like…
Why is he single at his age?
Does he have commitment issues?
Kinks I should be aware of?
I want to slap myself for giving this more thought than required. I am clearly going to say no. I don’t intend to sleep with him, not only because he’s my client but also because he scares me a little.
And Momma always said, if a man scares you a little… run.
I take in the familiar sign above the entrance as I exit the car. I come here at least once a week, sometimes more, depending on my schedule. Barry, one of the nurses, offers me a wave as I pass him in the hall. When I get to her door, I find her sitting in the rocking chair I purchased for her last month. She requested it, and I, of course, obliged.
My mother has dementia, and it’s progressed to the point that the best way to care for her was to find her a place with round-the-clock professional care. It must be hard for her, so I try as much as possible to make her comfortable, as she would do for me.
“Mom.” She looks my way. Her light-blonde hair looks like it’s seen better days, tied up in a bun on top of her head. Her skin is pale from hardly going outside. She looks more fragile each day.
Some days, she remembers me. On other days, she thinks I’m her sister, Mary-Beth. I look more like my aunt than my mother, so it makes sense. At least if she doesn’t remember me, she still thinks I’m someone who loves her. And that’s all I wish for her—that she never feels like no one loves her.
My mother used to walk into a room and all heads would turn her way, not just because of her beauty but also because of how she would present herself. Commanding. She was always so vibrant, outgoing, and a go-getter, as some would say. You wanted to know her—who she was, where she came from. Because of that, she never really kept a man around for long, having been married three times. She was always the one to leave, dragging me along with her. We’d lived in so many states that when we finally arrived in New York when I was fifteen, I knew I was never going to live anywhere else. She knew it too.
“You look beautiful today. I brought your favorite.” I pull out a small box of Lindt white chocolate. She looks at it eagerly but makes no attempt to greet me.
Today is one of those days.
I can tell just by looking at her that she’s lost right now, but that’s okay. Even if she’s lost, I am not. Green eyes, the same shade as mine, lock onto my face. She eyes me suspiciously but doesn’t tell me to leave. I sit across from her and start to open the box of chocolates.
“Dad used to buy you these for every birthday, Christmas, and basically any other holiday.” I laugh at the memory. He really loved her, and their marriage was beautiful. I believe if he were alive today, she wouldn’t be in here. I don’t mean that she wouldn’t have dementia, but Dad would have wanted to be the one caring for her. I also think she kept on giving guys chances in hopes of finding that same love she had with him. He would have given everything up to look after her, even if she had forgotten who he was, of that I am certain.
After unwrapping a piece of chocolate, I hand it to her. It’s one thing I know she will never turn down.