by Sabrina York
“If you run into any problems, let me know.”
“Don’t give it a second thought. I won’t have any problems.”
“And that’s one more thing I appreciate about you, Barb.”
“I did some digging with regards to that mansion you asked about.”
“Anything interesting come up?” Owen asked.
“The last few owners are all properly recorded. Going back further is a little murky. I don’t have anything for you yet.”
“Thanks, Barb. I’ll keep working on it up here.”
“Are you done for the day?” Barb asked.
“No. I’m heading over to speak with Mother’s doctor. Keep me abreast of your progress.”
Owen entered the clinic and looked around. The placed was totally remodeled. He walked up to the reception desk.
“Good afternoon,” the receptionist greeted him.
“Good afternoon. I have an appointment with Dr. Mason Weatherly. My name is Owen Brock.”
“Yes, Mr. Brock. You’re in luck. Dr. Weatherly is running on time today. It should only be a few minutes.”
Owen thanked the receptionist and wandered around the room he’d grown up visiting for everything from the flu to a broken leg. He was pleased that Glenville still had a doctor in town.
“Dr. Weatherly is ready to see you now,” the receptionist said.
“Mr. Brock, it’s good to meet you.” Dr. Weatherly walked out from behind his desk and extended his hand.
“Thank you for working me into your schedule, Dr. Weatherly. I imagine you keep busy.”
“It’s a fairly steady flow. Busy, yes, but not insane like my last position in Seattle. I oversaw the Department of Internal Medicine. And I can say I don’t miss the times I had to fill in on those seventeen-hour days in the ER one bit.”
“I can certainly understand that, but don’t you miss being on the cutting edge of medicine?” Owen asked.
“Not at all. I still do a great deal of consulting. So, what is it I can help you with specifically, Mr. Brock?”
“Please, call me Owen.”
“Interesting. You’re the second Owen this week.”
“Pardon?”
“My wife, Ivy. She works part-time at Christmas Reflections and she is close friends with my sister-in-law, Juliet. She mentioned a guest named Owen.”
“I see.” He’d run out of time. He needed to tell Gina he was a Brock not a Brown tonight. “I’d be grateful if you could give me an overview of my mother’s health.”
“Certainly.” Mason took his time walking through Owen’s mother’s condition step-by-step.
“So you’re saying her disease has progressed and I’m assuming that’s why you suggested we find a suitable nursing home for her.”
“I think you’re confused. I told Rose that her mother would benefit from a full-time nurse and a daily visit from a physical therapist. I never told her to put your mother in a nursing home.”
“What about her falls and memory confusion?”
“The doors should be locked in a manner that your mother is unable to open. Her balance will improve with the addition of a physical therapist. There are also elder care consultants that can go through the house and make suggestions that will improve her safety. She’s a lucky woman, Owen. Not many people have an elevator in their home and can afford to bring in a nurse and physical therapist.”
“What would you do if this was your mother?”
“I would do precisely what I’m telling you. Keep her at home where she’s comfortable, cared for, and happy. Do you have a PT coming in?”
“No.”
“That’s disappointing. Rose and I spoke nearly three weeks ago. I gave her the names and phone numbers of the three best physical therapists in the area. They are all very good at what they do.”
“Am I to understand that the last time you spoke to Rose regarding Mother was three weeks ago?” Owen asked.
“That’s correct.”
“I see. Thank you very much for speaking with me.” He pulled a card and handed it to Mason. “I’m Mother’s legal guardian. I would appreciate it if you would keep me updated and contact me anytime. It was very nice to meet you.”
When Owen returned to his vehicle, he slammed his hands into the headliner. Rose had blatantly lied to him. She’d told him Dr. Weatherly had visited Mom at the house just recently and told Rose it was time to put Mother into a home. How could Rose be so cold? She wanted to put Mother into a home so she could have the house to herself. He opened his phone and punched a speed-dial number. “Things are changing today,” he said as he waited for his call to connect.
“Good afternoon, Owen. How can I help you?” Betty asked.
“I’d like to get together with you privately, Betty. Is there a time you can get away in the next couple of days to meet me away from the house?”
Dusk was settling in as Owen drove down the lane into Forever Christmas. Additional Christmas lights were glowing from scattered trees throughout the farm. He felt the knots in his shoulders and neck begin to release, as the stressors of the day were melting off him.
By the time Owen stepped into Mistletoe Lodge, the troubles of the day were a faraway memory.
“Good evening, Owen,” Della said.
“Hello, Della. Is Gina still working?”
“No, sir. She’s in the café, waiting for you. Would you like me to take your things to your room?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, that would be wonderful.” Owen handed Della his coat and briefcase.
Gina sat alone at the same table. She looked even more gorgeous than he remembered. Her long, rich espresso-bean-colored hair shimmered under the lights. She was sipping on a glass of wine and engrossed in something on her phone.
“I hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” Owen said as he gently laid his hand on her shoulder.
“Not at all. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you.” Gina looked up at him. This close to her, Owen noticed that her cognac eyes had specks of dark green. They always seemed to glisten. He took the seat across from her.
“How was your day?” Owen asked.
“Every day is busy this time of the year and I love it all. And yours?”
“Excuse me,” the waiter said. “Would you like your same wine, Mr. Brown, or perhaps a change?”
It took everything in Owen’s power not to react to the fake name. He’d never felt like an imposter before.
“The same. Thank you.” The waiter nodded and left. “Another sign of quality staff: they recall what I drink.” Owen thanked the waiter as he set the glass on the table.
“The personal touch is what we strive for,” Gina said.
“Well, it certainly makes a positive impression.” He took a drink and centered himself. “I’m glad you could join me tonight. I’ve enjoyed each time we’ve spent together more than the time before.”
“You’re not cutting your stay short, are you?” she asked with a slight frown.
“Not at all.” Owen reached over and covered her hand with his. “Quite the opposite. I would love to spend more time with you. Except I need to tell you something first.” Suddenly he felt uncomfortably warm.
“What is it, Owen?”
“I haven’t been completely honest with you. When you asked me if I’d been here before I told you no. That was a lie. As is the name I registered under.” He could see the confusion and worry in her face. He needed to spit it out. “I’m from Glenville. My mother lives in town. I didn’t want my sister to be able to locate me, so I had my assistant register me under a different name.”
Gina pulled her hand out from under his and sat back in her chair. He could almost see the wheels turning. “I see,” she said slowly.
“Gina, I like you. I really like you, in a way I never have before. If you feel the same way, I would like us to spend more time together. But before I made another step in that direction, I needed to come clean and tell you who I really am.”
“Are you in tr
ouble with the law? Is that why your sister is looking for you?”
“No. Nothing like that. My sister’s an entitled, spoiled brat whose only concern is herself. And when she finds out where I am, we’ll never rid ourselves of her.” He sighed heavily and took a couple sips of his wine.
“Just who are you?” Gina’s eyebrows drew tightly together, and her stare bore into his eyes.
“My name is Owen Brock. My family has lived in Glenville for generations, which is why I live in Phoenix. I’m an attorney in private practice. I’ve only been back here for half-day visits over the past three years. I despise coming back here to this town and its weather, or at least I used to, until you opened my eyes to an entirely new experience.”
Gina bit the inside of her lip as she digested what he’d told her.
“So are you really here on business?”
“Yes, family business. In addition, I’ve been doing other work since I’ve been here.”
“Has anything else you told me been a lie?”
“No. I wouldn’t do that. The things we’ve talked about, that’s all me. Only the name was changed to keep my sister from being a nuisance.” He dropped his gaze to the table. He should have told Gina from day one. Had he messed this up before he even had a chance to see where it would go?
“I have just one question for you.”
He looked up and locked onto her eyes.
“Anything.”
She slid her hand across the table and turned it palm up. He placed his hand in hers.
“Are you staying through New Year’s?” The corners of her mouth quirked up.
“Yes,” he said, grinning. He wanted to kiss her right here. Before the night was done, he vowed he would.
“All right. I’ll see that Brock is put on your file. Only Della and I have access to the files. I’ll tell her not to mention it to anyone.”
“Thank you, Gina.” She squeezed his hand. “About that. There could be a possible leak.” Owen told her about the meeting with Dr. Weatherly. “I have a feeling Mason already thinks I’m the Owen his wife Ivy mentioned.”
“Not to worry. I’ll call Ivy and explain everything to them. We’re close friends, she won’t tell a soul.”
“I appreciate that. I’d like to apologize to Juliet personally.”
“I think we can work that out.” She rubbed his hand and pulled away as the waiter approached with their dinner. When the waiter left, she said, “So, tell me your story, Owen Brock. I want to know all about you and the crazy family you’re hiding from.”
They spent hours talking about how they grew up and their hopes and plans. Gina lightly poked him in the shoulder a few times when he laughed as she told him her hair used to be bleached and colored hot pink.
“I just can’t picture you with short, spiked, pink hair,” Owen chuckled.
Owen told Gina about his family.
“Your sister has really never worked a day in her life? I find that impossible to believe.”
“If you ask her, she’s the hardest working, most mistreated person on this earth. Rose was in boarding school when she and the neighbor boy ran away and eloped. She had just turned seventeen when they got married. Dad was livid. He got the marriage annulled. She met her second ex-husband in her last year in college. They were married for a year and she caught him with another woman. We all thought the third husband would last a while longer. They were married six months after Rose’s divorce. He moved her to Charleston. Five years later she took him to the cleaners. Rose returned home this past year; she claims it was to take care of our mother. But after what I’ve discovered today, it is obvious Mother is not her priority. Rose has remained true to form; she has always looked out for number one. I also went to speak to our family’s attorney today. It seems Rose and Mr. Welch are in cahoots. In fact, it seems he is Rose’s latest conquest. He is also the family’s EX-attorney as of today.”
“Really? Are they conniving against your mother? YOU should be the family attorney.”
“For now, I am. But I’m the executor and I also have guardianship over Mother. By the time he died, father had been named mother’s guardian. In the will he named me as her new guardian. Mother has needed looking after for the last ten years. She’s suffered from lapses in memory from time to time and lately has had physical issues. And if my sister, in all her dysfunctional wisdom, decides to fight me, it could get ugly. She’s not going to be very happy with me when all is said and done. However I’d love for you to meet my mother.”
“You would?”
He could tell he’d caught her totally off balance.
“I’d be honored.” She glanced down at her watch.
“You have to go take care of Angel.”
“Yes. I do. Would you like to come with me? Angel has been cooped up most of the day. I thought I would take her for a walk.”
“I’d like that.”
“I’ve also been fretting over something I found out today. I’d like to run it by you and get your opinion,” Gina said.
“Of course.” Owen rose from the table, went over to her and pulled her chair out. “Would you mind if I meet you outside? I’d like to run up to my room and change into my jeans.”
“Now I truly am surprised.”
“How so?”
“I didn’t think you ever wore anything except a suit. Meet us out back when you’re ready.” Gina ran her fingers down his arm as she walked away.
10
Gina knew the second Owen was close. Angel alerted her. It filled Gina’s heart to see that Angel and she were developing a strong bond.
Gina released Angel and she took off into the yard. Owen walked over to Gina and as he got closer, she stepped into him and threaded her arm around his back. He draped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her in close. She could feel the heat of his body.
“I waited a bit before I returned downstairs and left the lodge,” Owen said. “I didn’t want people getting ideas.”
“Are there any reasons why people should get ideas?” She teased him.
He chuckled. “For the most part, I like to keep my private life private.”
They stood there and watched Angel explore the yard for a bit. Then Owen stepped directly in front of her, tilted her head upwards and looked into her eyes. She held her breath not wanting to break the spell. He searched her eyes as if he thought he’d find whatever it was he was looking for. Then slowly he leaned down and kissed her. It wasn’t the kind of gentle, quick kiss she’d expected. It became demanding, devouring, and promising. She melted into his embrace. When he pulled away, he gently ran his hands through her hair and kissed her once more.
“We should probably go inside before we freeze out here,” he whispered.
Gina showed Owen her new home. They wandered into the kitchen together.
“Would you like something to drink?” she asked him.
“What are you having?”
“I was thinking a cup of homemade cocoa with a splash of Kahlua and brandy.”
“That sounds delicious.” Owen took a seat at her kitchen bar and watched her move around the room. “Can I help?”
“No, thank you. Just sit there and talk to me.” She smiled. He looked hot in jeans. His expensive suits looked striking on him, still there was something about his jeans and cashmere pullover that brought out a different side of him. He seemed more at ease with himself.
“You said you’d found something out. What is it?” Owen asked.
“It just so happens that today I found out that my mother has lied to me since my dad died.”
“Seems my timing couldn’t have been worse,” he said more to himself. “And I walk in and say—Hey, remember me? Well I’m not who I said I was. I’m so sorry, Gina. I feel like a complete heel.” She heard him curse under his breath again. “In all honesty you handled it way better than I would have.”
She held up a bag of tiny marshmallows and he nodded. Suddenly Angel appeared right behind her. “Looks like I’ve f
ound something you like. Sit, Angel.” Angel dropped her behind to the floor quicker than she’d ever done. Gina and Owen laughed as she rewarded Angel with a couple marshmallows. She resealed the bag and Angel returned to her bed in the corner of the kitchen. Gina trickled caramel and then chocolate syrup over the marshmallows and handed Owen one of the mugs.
“This looks decadent,” he said as he sipped it. “This is decadent.” A drizzle of chocolate syrup and caramel remained along his upper lip.
Gina smiled and walked around to where he was sitting. She wedged herself between his legs and leaned in and licked the caramel off his lips.
“Ummm…you taste sinfully sweet.” She winked at him, picked up her mug, took Owen’s hand, and led him into the living room. She grabbed a controller and turned on the gas fireplace. That was Angel’s cue to sprawl in front of it. Owen sat on the sofa and Gina sat down beside him.
“Tell me what happened,” Owen said. He snugged her into him, and she told him the story of her great-great-grandparents and the mansion. He listened intently and when she finished he asked, “You said your mother showed you proof. What was it?”
Gina showed him the contents of the envelope her mother had given her.
“What do you think?” she asked him.
“I think you have pretty good grounds for pursuing this.” He glanced at her. “You say there’s an oil painting that shows this couple,” he pointed at her great-great-grandparents.
“Yes, I put it up today. It’s on the wall behind the reception desk. You didn’t notice it?”
“My mind was focused on you. I don’t think I would’ve noticed Saint Nick if he had bumped into me.”
“Oh, I’m certain his outfit would have jumped out at you.” The two of them laughed. “I don’t want to take advantage of you. But could you suggest some next steps?”
“I want to help you. And I will.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead and through his hair. “There’s one problem.”
“What’s that?” Gina asked.
“The mansion that you’re referring to. Rose told me today that mother said it was stolen from our family generations ago.”