My Favorite Mistake

by Parker, Weston

  “Nicole, wait,” the head of the maids, Gretta, called out.

  I stopped, looking up at the elaborate double doors and inwardly cringed. I loved Alena, but to say I’d been welcomed with open arms by some of the other women in the area would be a grievous exaggeration. Gretta had been one of the nicer ones, tolerating me, but not exactly the kind of woman who gave me the warm fuzzies.

  “What’s up?” I asked casually, wondering if I had messed something up yesterday.

  “We need to talk,” she said in a serious tone.

  I couldn’t lose my job. I couldn’t get sent back to the States. I took a deep breath and smiled, hoping to disarm her. “Okay. Here?”

  “Yes. I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

  I immediately took a step back, as if I could head off what was coming by getting away. “Oh?” I asked, my voice higher than usual.

  “Mr. Mattas passed away in his sleep last night,” she said solemnly. “When the morning nurse came by to give him his medicine, he was gone.”

  “Gone?” I repeated the word, a lump forming in my throat.

  “Yes.”

  “He died?” I whispered.

  “Yes,” she said, slightly irritated.

  “Oh no,” I gasped, blinking back tears as I put a hand over my mouth.

  “Yes, it’s sad. The staff will stay on. It is something I talked with Mr. Mattas about before he died. He wanted to make sure the estate remained intact.” Her voice was all-business, as if she were discussing our daily chores and not the end of a man’s life. A good man. “However, we will not be putting in a full day today or tomorrow out of respect for Mr. Mattas. His family will likely arrive within a day or two. They are spread out all over Athens.”

  “All right. I understand.” I turned to go in and stopped. “Is he, uh, still here?” I grimaced.

  She shook her head. “No, he’s already been removed from the house. We’ve taken care of the immediate housekeeping needs for the day.”

  I nodded, not sure if that made me happy or sad. I never got to say goodbye. I knew I had no right to feel sad, but I was. I hated death. Death was a bitch. The day I met Death, I was going to tell him or her, but I was guessing it was a him because no woman could ever be so rude and callous as to take anyone in their prime or children. Death was a douchebag.

  I moved inside and immediately felt the loss. It hung like a heavy pall in the air. I swore I could smell death. Not that I knew what it smelled like, but I was sure it was there. No, I smelled bleach and flowers. Not a great combination I decided.

  I stood at the foot of the stairs, not sure whether I should go up. Technically, my job was to keep the upstairs bedrooms cleaned and aired out, just in case he had company, which he never did. I often got the idea Mr. Mattas kept a full staff of maids, a butler, gardener, and so on for the simple fact he didn’t want to fire anyone. He was doing his part to support the economy, I supposed. I had no idea how much money the man had, but I guessed he could afford to pay all of us.

  Deciding I needed to at least go to his room to say goodbye, I began my slow climb upstairs. I moved over the carpeted hallway, dread filling me as I moved toward the tall, wide doors that opened to the master bedroom. I paused, closing my eyes and steeling myself for his absence. I opened the door and found it in its usual tomb-like state.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing he would have hated the darkness.

  I opened the curtains and the window, letting in fresh air. It did smell stale and sad. Could a person smell sad? There was a huge absence in the room. I turned to stare at the big bed. The covers were askew, and his glass of water still sat on the nightstand, along with the book he told me he was reading. We both knew he wasn’t, but I went along with it.

  “Oh, Alec,” I whispered, moving to strip the bed down.

  I tossed the dirty sheets into a heap and quickly rushed down the hall to the linen closet, finding his favorite sheets and putting them on the bed, making sure there were no wrinkles. I pulled the rose-colored comforter up and fluffed the pillows. I took a step back and stared at the empty bed, perfectly made up. It’d been a few weeks since I had seen the bed empty.

  I turned and left the room, going back downstairs, and instead of waiting for a cab, I began to walk back to the city. It wasn’t like I had anything to do all day. I had on my maid shoes, which were perfect for walking the few miles back to my apartment. By the time I got there, my feet were killing me, and I was hotter than hell and was kicking myself in the ass for thinking I had any business walking that far. I wasn’t an athletic kind of girl.

  “You’re home?” Alena asked, surprised.

  “I am.”

  “Uh oh. Why are you home in the middle of the day?”

  I flopped down on the sofa and kicked off my shoes. “He died.”

  “Who died?” she asked, getting up from the table and coming to sit on the couch beside me.

  “Mr. Mattas. He died last night.”

  “Oh no. Wow. I’m sorry.”

  I sighed. “Thanks. We’re supposed to take today and tomorrow off and then go back to work like nothing has changed until the family fires us.”

  “Oh,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

  “I know. I thought the same thing. Weird. It’s weird to be there when he isn’t.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked softly.

  “I am. I’m sad, but I’ll be fine. It isn’t like I really knew him.”

  “Yes, you did. I know you were fond of him, and from what you told me, he was pretty fond of you.”

  I thought about yesterday and the conversation we had. I still couldn’t believe that was the last conversation. We talked about meat. How very unimportant.

  “He knew,” I said.

  “He knew what?” she asked. “About your dad?”

  My eyes went wide as I shook my head. “No! He knew he was going to die. How did he know?”

  “He was old and sick,” she said. “I think at that point, you kind of have to assume you’re going to die. We’re all going to die.”

  I rolled my eyes. “No. He knew he was going to die last night or today or whatever. He knew. He planned for it.”

  “How?”

  I cleared my throat. “Hold on,” I said and got up to grab the letter from my sock drawer.

  I carried it back and handed the envelope to her. “What’s this?” she asked.

  “He gave that to me yesterday,” I told her. “He said to give it to his grandson after he died.”

  She handed me the letter as if it were toxic. “Ew. You could have told me that.”

  I giggled softly, taking the letter and holding it in both hands, staring at it and wondering what was in it. “He told me it was important. I tried not to take it, but he insisted. Why wouldn’t he give it to his lawyer or the grandson in question himself?”

  “I don’t know. You’re holding a man’s last words. That’s so heavy.”

  “Not helping,” I quipped.

  “He trusted you,” she said with a smile. “That’s amazing. He saw what I see in you. He saw you’re a good, kind soul and reached out. That makes me happy. I feel like I am responsible for connecting the two of you in a way.”

  I groaned. “That is not what this is about. I don’t want to meddle in family business. What if it’s a horrible letter? What if it is Alec’s way of getting the last word? I don’t want to be the person who delivers that kind of thing. It will only hurt the grandson.”

  She shrugged a shoulder. “You’re not hurting anyone. You’re carrying out the wishes of a dying man who respected you and trusted you to do what he asked. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

  I thought about her words and knew she was right. I had to do the right thing, but I wasn’t sure where to start. “I guess I’ll need to try and track down the grandson.”

  “Yes, you will. Today though, you rest. I know he meant a lot to you. Take some time to grieve.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “That feels kind of s
illy. It isn’t like I really knew him, and I wasn’t his family.”

  “You were his only family these past few months,” she said. “Did anyone else go see him? Did anyone else spend hours talking to him after they were off the clock?”

  “I guess not.”

  “You were close to him, and you gave him a little bit of sunshine during his last days. I’m proud of you. You’re a good person, Nicole. I know it hasn’t always been easy for you to believe that, but I hope you’ll see how valuable you are to others. You are worthy, and there are so many people who will be benefited by knowing you.” She reached out to put her hand on my knee.

  “You’re being nice,” I muttered.

  “I’m being truthful. I’m so glad I met you that day at the coffee shop.”

  I smirked. “I don’t know if you are as glad as I am. I’m so thankful you took me under your wing and brought me back here. You will never know how much I appreciate it.”

  “You’re welcome. We’re friends, and that’s what friends do for one another.”

  I rose from the couch and put the letter in my purse. I was going to have to track down the grandson. Thankfully with the power of the internet, it wouldn’t be all that difficult. With a grandfather like Alec Mattas, the grandson would be widely known. Unless maybe it was an illegitimate grandson and that was why he’d given me the letter. Oh, the mystery!

  I would kill Alec all over again if he made me the bearer of some life-altering news that hurt the grandson. I was not a mean person and didn’t want to be involved in any kind of scheme.

  “I’m going to take a hot shower,” I told her.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ll make you some tea, and you can lounge around all day.”

  “Thanks, Alena. Truly, thank you for being such a good friend. It means a lot to me.” I felt the emotions that were right at the surface threatening to spill over.

  I pushed them down. It was the situation making me feel weepy. It stirred up some memories and feelings that I had been very successful at repressing. I didn’t want to dig them up now. That was something I was saving for a skilled therapist one day. For now, the only way I could function was to pretend I had a great childhood, a loving family, and my past didn’t exist.

  Chapter 5

  Rand

  I’d called in sick yesterday and hunkered down at my place. I had been in no condition to work or even interact with humans in general. I had sent a text to Adrian, claiming to have come down with some nasty stomach bug. He didn’t seem to be convinced, judging by the emojis he sent in response. I didn’t care.

  I needed the time to get my head around the situation. I wasn’t a machine. I had feelings, even if I kept them locked away and bumbled through life as the carefree bachelor who didn’t give a shit about anything. I did give a shit. I gave a lot of shits, but it was easier to pretend I didn’t.

  I rolled out of bed, knowing I couldn’t miss another day, not if I didn’t want to have to explain the situation to Adrian. He’d pity me and tell me to take a week off. I didn’t want to be pitied. I didn’t want to think much about any of it. The first order of business was a cold shower to get the blood pumping through my body with the surround-sound system in the house pumping out a loud, upbeat club song. I was doing all I could to block out the feelings. Feelings were best kept on ice.

  I quickly dressed in my standard work attire, black slacks with a button-up black shirt, with a few buttons open at the top. Then I slicked my dark hair back, grabbed my dark shades, and hopped in my little sports car. I would have loved to have gone for a drive on the open road somewhere, but that wasn’t exactly possible with where I lived. I headed for Cade’s shop, knowing it was early for gelato but wanting coffee and company.

  I walked into his shop, a little surprised to see it was pretty busy for not even being ten in the morning. He was talking with another customer when he saw me. The look on his face was full of concern. He excused himself and walked directly to me.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I came by to get some coffee.”

  Cade gave me a look that called me out on my bullshit. “Sit there,” he ordered, pointing to a table.

  I did as he asked, lacking the energy to argue. I watched as he told the customers a pipe had burst and he had to close the shop, promising to be open within the hour. The looks on the faces of the customers said they didn’t believe him, but a big Italian dude like Cade was not to be argued with.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I said once the place was cleared out and the door was locked.

  Cade took a seat at the table and looked at me. I could feel him analyzing the dark circles under my eyes. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  I shrugged a shoulder. “Not much.”

  “Something is not right. You’re here for a reason, so you may as well tell me.”

  “My grandfather passed away Tuesday,” I told him.

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  I shrugged. “It sucks.”

  “Were you close?” he asked.

  “We were. Not so much in the last year or two, but he was more like a father to me than a grandfather. I spent most of my youth with him.”

  He nodded his head. “When’s the funeral?”

  I looked down at my hands. “It was this morning.”

  “Ah, I see. Are you just coming from there?”

  “No. I didn’t go.”

  His black, bushy eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t go?” he questioned.

  “No. I didn’t want to see my family. I couldn’t deal with them on top of everything else. It isn’t like he’s going to know if I was there or not. He’s dead.”

  “That’s not what a funeral is about,” he said. “It’s about the living. It’s about you getting a chance to pay your respects and to say goodbye.”

  I shook my head. “It would have ended up being a lot of drama with my family. I didn’t want to disrespect my grandfather by causing a scene at his funeral. I can say my goodbyes another time.”

  “Your family is going to give you a hard time because you didn’t go,” he warned.

  I scoffed. “That would require them talking to me. I’m not worried about that. I don’t give a shit what they think about what I did or didn’t do. They quit caring about what I did a long time ago. We’re better when we’re on different landmasses.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think your family is all that unique. I know plenty of families that only get along from a distance.”

  I nodded my head. “That’s my family, except I don’t know if we even get along from a distance.”

  “Your grandfather was a wealthy man, right?” he asked.

  I nodded my head. “He was.”

  “Isn’t there going to be a will?”

  I smiled, shaking my head. “Knowing my grandfather, he will have left his estate to a cat sanctuary or something like that. He wasn’t exactly fond of my relatives either. He stood by me when none of them would because he didn’t like what happened all those years ago. He is—was—a stubborn man. Once he made up his mind, that was that.”

  Cade slowly nodded. “I see. So now what are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’m not really sure what to do. I guess there’s nothing for me to do. I’m sure my parents and brother will have already started liquidating anything at the estate. I don’t want to show up there when they are around.” The idea of them in my grandfather’s house bothered me. “They’ll divvy up what they want and fade away like they always do.”

  “You’re going to need to do something to give yourself some closure,” he said. “I lost my dad, and I never got the chance to say goodbye. He was in Italy when he passed, and I didn’t go to the funeral there. It wasn’t okay. I thought I was doing the right thing back then, but to this day, I regret that I didn’t go. I can’t explain it, but that moment is special, even if the dead person doesn’t know. It’s a big deal.”

  “It’s too
late. The funeral is done. They’re doing the lunch right now.”

  “You can make the lunch,” he pointed out.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to go. Going is only going to make things worse. You don’t understand just how hateful and cruel my family can be.”

  He let out a long sigh. “All right. I won’t hound you about it. I can see you’re already suffering enough.”

  “Do I look that bad?” I asked, running a hand over my hair.

  “You don’t look that good,” he replied.

  “Maybe I shouldn’t go to work today,” I muttered.

  “Maybe not. I’m sure Adrian will be cool with you taking a few days off.”

  “I haven’t told him,” I said, feeling a little cowardly. “I just told him I wasn’t going into the office yesterday.”

  Cade looked at me with those dark eyes so full of understanding. It was one of the reasons I loved the big lug. He was really like a big, fluffy teddy bear. He had a way of making a person feel calm and cared for, just by looking at them with those warm eyes of his.

  “I get it. I do. I’m not going to try and tell you what to do. You’re a big boy. I can’t change your mind about what I think you should do, but I can stuff you full of gelato until you puke.” He grinned.

  I chuckled, appreciating his light humor. “Thanks, but I don’t think that’s going to help matters. If I’m going to be puking, it’s going to be because I downed a good bottle of scotch.”

  “You never know what will work until you try, and trust me, gelato tastes a hell of a lot better than scotch that will burn your gut and leave you with a nasty hangover. Sweet treats are my go-to when I need a little pick me up.” He grinned and rubbed his belly. “I’ve got some new flavors. One of them has bits of chocolate chunks and caramel.”

  “I don’t think so. Thanks though.”

  There was a knock on the glass door. A woman’s face was pressed against the glass as she peered inside. Cade shook his head. “Fucking tourist. Can’t they read the damn sign? How many more languages can it say we are closed?”