Sandy: Vested Interest #7

by Melanie Moreland

  The suite rang with laughter. There were three different treatment areas set up, and I had taken advantage of them all. My skin was glowing, my nails buffed, and my toes sparkled with fresh polish. I sighed as I rolled my shoulders, the massage having worked wonders on my sore muscles. Max always teased me that I carried my tension in my shoulders. “Like cement,” he would mumble while trying ineffectually to rub them. While his embraces and soft words were perfection, his massage technique was terrible. After a few bumbling, inept attempts on his behalf to rub my shoulders early on in our relationship, he treated me to a bimonthly massage. After he died, I had stopped going. I stopped doing a lot of things.

  I looked around the room, smiling at the girls. Young, happy, and in love, they all made me smile, even as my heart ached to remember that time in my life. I loved that they included me in their girl time. To me, they were all extensions of my family—adopted daughters—and I loved them all.

  Becca came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a thick, white terry cloth robe. Her skin glowed—from the facial or the wine she had consumed I wasn’t sure, but she looked radiant. She had been late this morning, blushing as she rushed out to the car, Reid following her and catching her before she stepped in to kiss her long and lovingly. Judging from the smug expression on his face, there was no doubt as to why we waited for her, and it had set the tone for the day with constant teasing and banter.

  She flung herself beside me with a grin. “How you doin’?” she winked and deadpanned. “Looking good, Sandy.”

  I laughed. “So do you.”

  Her phone buzzed and I chuckled. “I think Reid is missing you today.”

  She rolled her eyes, but her grin was wide. “I think he is. My phone has been blowing up all day.”

  I patted her hand. “That’s a good thing, Becca. Enjoy it.”

  She nodded, her eyes on the screen. “I do. I love his silly texts and pictures.”

  “He worships you,” I informed her.

  Her cheeks flushed, and this time, I knew it wasn’t the wine. “The feeling is mutual.”

  “I know.”

  Cami and Dee strolled over to the seating area and curled up on the sofa across from us. Like me, they were both relaxed from their pampering. Liv and Emmy were finishing up with their massages and would join us. Bentley had arranged not only a light lunch, but a full afternoon tea to be served in the room. He knew how much I enjoyed a real afternoon tea, and I was touched by his efforts.

  We chatted and laughed until the rest of the girls joined us. We sat, sipping our beverages and talking about a multitude of things. Life, houses, work, motherhood, and finally, the conversation turned to men. There was some oversharing, funny stories, and cute moments of the antics of all their men, and Becca turned to me.

  “Sandy,” she began.

  I shook my head. “I know what you’re about to say, Becca. I’m fine. Honestly, I am. I have bad days, and one in particular last week, but that is to be expected.”

  Emmy leaned forward, taking my hand. “What brought it on, Sandy?”

  With a sigh, I told them about the storm and my dream. They all had tears in their eyes as I recalled Max’s words.

  “Do you think it was real?” Dee asked quietly. “Do you think Max was telling you it’s time to move on?”

  I shrugged, unsure how to answer. It had felt real. His words had echoed the sentiments he had expressed so often when we would discuss the future and he would insist I had to accept the thought of one without him. How he wanted me to find happiness and love again.

  “You have too much in you to give to spend the rest of your life grieving for me, my girl.”

  “I can’t fathom loving anyone else, Max,” I informed him. It was the simple truth.

  He had run his fingers over my cheek. “Not the way you love me, but you can love again, Sandy. I want you to. I need to know you will be happy again once I am gone.”

  I had promised him I would try, but the truth was, I had no idea how to do so or if I even had it in me to attempt it.

  I said so to the girls.

  “Colin lectures me all the time to go out and start living again.”

  Becca interrupted me. “I still can’t believe that fine specimen is your grandson. You’re too young to have him be your grandkid.”

  I chuckled. “Fine specimen. I’ll keep that one to myself. But I’ll take the compliment. One of the perks of marrying an older man, I suppose.” I sighed. “Colin insists it’s time for me to move forward, and he hates to see me wasting away, as he calls it. Aaron agrees with him. He tells me his father would want me to be happy,” I admitted.

  “What do you think?” Emmy asked, still holding my hands.

  “I don’t know how to move forward,” I stated. “I have no idea how to meet someone or start again. Things have changed since I dated thirty-some-odd years ago. I don’t think people meet at clubs or dances now.”

  All the girls laughed.

  “No,” Becca agreed. “It’s online most of the time.”

  I nodded in resignation. “Colin said the same thing. He says it easier to meet women that way. Seems so impersonal to me.”

  The girls laughed.

  “Trust me, sometimes there is too much personal.” Cami smirked.

  I chuckled. “In my day, you went out. Locked gazes with someone. Talked. Felt that connection. How can you do that with a computer screen?”

  Emmy agreed. “I—we—all got lucky we met the men we did and the way we did.”

  Cami nodded. “Yes—I tried my share of dating apps. Thank goodness those days are behind me.”

  I pursed my lips. “Colin told me he had a date at Tinder last week. He has mentioned that place a couple of times since his girlfriend dumped him. I assumed Tinder was a restaurant he was meeting them at. I suppose I assumed wrong?”

  The girls dissolved into laughter. Becca wiped her eyes. “You did. Tinder isn’t a restaurant.”

  “It’s one of these dating apps?”

  “Well, it’s not for, ah, dating, Sandy. It’s more for, um, hookups,” she explained, trying to hide her amusement.

  “Hookups,” I repeated slowly. I widened my eyes in shock. “Hookups? Are you telling me Colin is having casual sex with strange women?”

  “Quite possibly.” Emmy smirked. “Not sure how casual, of course.”

  “Well, that little…scamp.” I shook my head. “I hope he’s being safe. I’ll have to ask him. Or perhaps I’ll save us both the embarrassment and simply buy him a box of condoms as a reminder.”

  This caused more laughter.

  “I’m not particularly interested in sex with a stranger, girls.”

  “We know that,” Emmy assured me. “But maybe just meeting some nice men? At least trying?”

  Becca leaned forward, earnest. “Even if you find someone to be friends with. Go out to dinner with—or a movie. You always loved to dance. Wouldn’t it be nice to go with someone? That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

  I mulled over her words. “No, I suppose it wouldn’t. But I have no idea how to do that dating app thing.”

  Liv pulled her laptop from her bag and handed it to Becca. “But we do.”

  I sighed as I watched Becca’s fingers fly over the keys. I wondered what I had just gotten myself in to.

  And I knew, without a doubt, this had been their plan all along.

  Dinner at Bentley’s was, as usual, wonderful. I was able to spend time with Addi, feeding her, having cuddles, her little body warm and soft in my arms. I left not long after dinner, insisting I was too tired for their movie marathon. Frank, Bentley’s driver, took me home—all the boys had been drinking, so Bentley had him on standby to take everyone home safely. There were hugs and kisses all around when I left. The girls never mentioned the dating app, for which I was grateful. I wasn’t sure how the boys would react to the news, and I hadn’t yet decided to go ahead with the idea.

  Late Sunday afternoon, I sat in front of my laptop, looking over
the profile Becca had created for me. She insisted she had done thorough research on the various “apps,” as she called them, and that Mature Matchups had a good reputation, didn’t promote promiscuity, and many of the profiles on the site were people like me—looking for someone to socialize with, a friend to have dinner, see a movie, “hang out,” as she called it.

  “No hookups?” I asked, straight-faced.

  She bit her lip. “Um…”

  I patted her hand with a grin. “Teasing.”

  “If romance enters the picture, then it does,” she assured me. “If not, having a friend to go out with isn’t a bad thing, is it?”

  I had to admit she was right. When Max became ill, our social life had changed—not that it was ever the same as other couples. We were very close and enjoyed each other’s company. With the huge age difference between us, we were mostly shunned when we were first married so we had relied on each other for everything. Max was my best friend, shopping partner, confidant, and lover—all rolled into one. Over the years, we made some couple friends, but with his busy career and schedule, those times were limited. I was fine with it—I had been a bit of a loner, preferring reading and taking courses over other, more social activities. My husband and grandkids—especially Colin—kept me busy, and my life, once I met the BAM boys and Bentley opened his company, had revolved around them. Now, my nights and weekends once spent with Max, were long and empty at times.

  Perhaps a friend wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If I went into this idea seeking companionship instead of a romantic interest, I might find someone whose company I would enjoy. Someone who could help make me feel a little less lonely.

  I scanned the profile once again. It was exactly as Becca promised. A simple picture, a brief bio, and the language was correct. Nothing suggesting anything except looking to meet someone my age with similar interests to be friends. It was perfect.

  Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to press the “activate” button on the screen.

  I shook my head. I was being silly. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. And the girls had gone to so much effort and assured me unless I gave out the information, the profile was private, and I could delete it at any time. Before I could change my mind, I clicked the button, then shut the lid and hurried away from my desk as if the machine itself were going to start spitting out names of “matches.”

  I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine.

  As Aiden would often say—I was too old for this shit.

  Monday morning, my phone buzzed with another incoming message.

  “You have a match.”

  It had started about an hour after I clicked activate. I hadn’t realized Becca had added the app to my phone as well. I had muted the sound, but it still vibrated every time, and even in the pocket of my suit jacket, it made itself known.

  Once again, Bentley’s gaze strayed to my phone as it signaled another message.

  “Are you sure you don’t have to get that, Sandy?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  I shook my head. It was rare my phone rang at work these days, but this morning, it was going off constantly.

  “It’s fine,” I assured him. “I somehow got on a call list. I’ll handle it when we’re done.”

  Aiden spoke up. “I can take care of that for you, Sandy. Give me your phone, and I can get it to stop.”

  “No!” I exclaimed, my voice rising a little.

  All three partners looked surprised at my reaction. Reid was late this morning, having an appointment outside of the office. I was glad of that fact since Reid knew me so well. Even though the girls had said they wouldn’t say anything about the dating site, now that I had activated my profile, I knew it was going to come out eventually. I was in no hurry for the boys to know what I had done. I had a feeling none of them would approve, and I wasn’t in the mood to handle their objections or worries. They were all very protective of me.

  “It’s fine,” I insisted. “I’ll handle it. Now, you were saying, Bentley?”

  “Ah, yes.” He frowned but let the subject drop. “I am going to see a couple of places this afternoon with Van that have come up unexpectedly. Can you clear my schedule?”

  “Of course.”

  “Richard is flying in next week to firm up some new ideas for Phase Two of the towers,” Maddox stated. “You’ll need some extra bagels in the kitchen.”

  I smiled as I jotted down the reminder. Richard was one of my favorites, and I looked forward to his trips here. I had a feeling they were more frequent than needed since Becca was here every day, but he had a close bond with Maddox, and the partners respected him immensely and appreciated his personal touch on the account.

  “On it. I’ll get that vegetable cream cheese he is so fond of in as well.”

  “He gets all the good stuff,” Aiden moaned.

  I laughed, indicating the plate of Danishes on the boardroom table. “I don’t think you go short, Aiden.”

  “We’re your favorites, right?” he countered. “You love us best. Especially me.”

  “I don’t think so,” Maddox snorted. “Sandy digs my vibe. I’m her fave.”

  “I highly doubt it,” Bentley interjected. “I found her. She was mine first, therefore it stands to reason she prefers me over you two clowns.”

  “You’re all wrong. I’m her favorite,” Reid announced as he strolled in. “Richard is second, and you three pull up the rear. Exactly where you should be.”

  “I don’t think so,” Aiden huffed. “She’s been ours longer, so we rank higher. Right, Sandy?”

  I stood, snapping closed my notepad. “A mother never has favorites.” I winked. “At least, that is what we tell you all.” But I patted Reid’s cheek as I went by, making him grin.

  Reid threw himself into a seat. “Told you.”

  Aiden cursed loudly. “I hired you. I can fire you too.”

  “Nope. Sandy won’t let you. I’m her favorite.” Reid plucked a Danish off the plate and took a big bite. “Besides, you love me too, you big lug.”

  “Not if you keep eating my Danishes.”

  “Will you two shut up?” Bentley groaned. “This is an office, not a playground.”

  But he winked at me as I left the office. I shut the door behind me with a smile. It didn’t matter how old, rich, or successful they were, they would always be my boys.

  They were all my favorites. I adored each one of them for their own special reason. They all needed me in some fashion, but Reid’s need was the deepest of them all, and I had responded to that need the moment I met him. But they were all lights in my life.

  My phone buzzed again, and I sighed.

  Maybe that should be enough.

  Hell broke loose about three o’clock. Reid rushed past my desk, casting a worried glance my way as he hurried by, disappearing into Aiden’s office. With a frown, I asked the person I was speaking with on the phone to repeat themselves, only to be startled by the loud curse coming from Aiden’s office. Seconds later, they both disappeared into Maddox’s office. I shook my head, wondering what crisis was occurring now. Something big in IT land or a glitch in the security system Reid was diligently working on, adding upgrades or tweaking.

  I had my answer soon enough when the three of them appeared in front of my desk. Their countenances were serious, and they looked upset.

  A flicker of fear went through my chest.

  “What is it?” I asked. “Bentley? Is he all right?” I had spoken with him not long ago, and he said he was on his way back to the office. Had there been an accident?

  Aiden shook his head. “Bent’s fine. He’ll be here in a moment. We need to talk to you.”

  I furrowed my brow. “Fine. About?” My gaze fell to Reid’s hand. He was holding his phone, which was nothing new, but what was on the screen explained the intensity of their expressions and the tense set of their shoulders.

  My profile on Mature Matchups was on his phone. And the protective, worried faces were exactly what I knew would happen if th
ey discovered it.

  “My personal life is not up for discussion,” I stated mildly.

  “Sandy.” Aiden bent forward, his voice low. “These sites can be dangerous.”

  “Becca checked it out.”

  “Becca should have minded her own business,” Reid stated in an uncharacteristic snarl.

  I glared at him. “She was trying to be helpful.”

  “By hooking you up with a stranger?” Maddox mumbled. “That isn’t you, Sandy.”

  I crossed my arms. “I am not hooking up with anyone. I am not on Tinder or any of those other apps that cater to sex for fun. It’s a site that helps mature people find others of similar likes to engage in the pleasure of each other’s company. It’s my life, my decision. You three need to stay out of it.”

  They stared at me, and I had to bite back a smile. Given how I found the entire process taxing and couldn’t even bother checking my matches, I had no idea why I was defending my choice—except that it was my choice.

  Bentley appeared at my desk, his hair disheveled as if he had run his hands through it repeatedly. “Sandy.” He scowled. “We need to talk about this.”

  I stood and faced them all. “What needs to happen is the four of you go back to your offices and to the business at hand. What I choose to do or not do in my private life is my concern, not yours.”

  “Your safety—”

  “We’re worried—”

  “So many nutjobs—”

  I held up my hand. “Boys. Enough. If I see someone I would like to meet, I would do so in a public place. I would also make sure someone knew where I would be. I would never give out any personal information until I was certain I trusted the individual.” I shook my head. “You know me better than to think I would act foolishly.”

  Bentley spoke, frustration evident in his tone. “By joining one of these sites, you are being foolish.”

  I was done.

  I sat down. “Easy for you to say since you go home every night to your family, Bentley. As do all of you. My world changed when Max died, and I’m trying to find my feet again. Meet some new people and perhaps not be alone so much. I am not entirely comfortable with the whole idea, but at least the girls understood and tried to help, instead of acting dismissive and treating me like an old woman who doesn’t know what she’s doing.”