Starting Over Trilogy Boxset

by Kennedy, Brenda

  I reach for my phone and type.

  M: Angel, It was great seeing you tonight. I am looking forward to Saturday.

  I wait unsure to send it or not. I tap the card against the phone. Fuck it, I hit send. As I wait for her reply, I swear my heart is going to pound out of my chest. My phone dings that I have a new message.

  A: Mason …? Is that you?

  M: The one and only.

  A: Do I need to ask how you how you got my number?

  Shit … think Mason, think! Be honest or at least partly honest.

  M: I got it when I was in the office today.

  That’s true.

  A: Mmmm, I see.

  M: Mmmm, what’s that supposed to mean?

  A: Just a little odd that you end up with my business card. I thought you came in to drop off donuts.

  M: I did. I grabbed some business cards while I was there for a couple people at work.

  That’s true, too.

  A: I see…. Isn’t that sweet of you.

  M: You don’t sound convinced.

  A: I’m not. I think you’re a little sneaky.

  Well, she could have called me a stalker. I’ll take sneaky.

  M: lol… I’ve been called many things in my life, but sneaky is not one of them.

  A: Well, let me be the first.

  M: Ouch. That stings.

  A: Good night, Mason.

  M: Sweet dreams, Angel.

  A: Mason?

  M: Angel?

  A: Just so you know, if you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask for it. ;)

  Is that ;) an emoticon? Mmmm. She’s winking at me. Good. I like that.

  M: You mean I could have saved myself $10 on donuts?

  A: Don’t be an ass.

  M: Ok, I’m sorry.

  Smiling like an idiot, I charge my phone, lock up the condo and head to bed. I am working dayshift in the morning at Sarasota Memorial.

  Later, I wait outside the gym beside my car for Donovan and Vincent to show up. It’s been a long grueling day at the hospital. I am excited to get in there to burn off some of this energy. The charge nurse, Carla, was there waiting for me with a hot cup of coffee in hand. Someone must have told her I was a bear in the mornings, if I didn’t get my caffeine fix first. I need to thank them. She is a smart girl for listening. I didn’t think the day was going to end. It was nonstop all day. Leaving work, I grab a water, a granola bar, and a banana from the cafeteria to eat on my way here. Donovan texted to tell me Vincent didn’t look good and that he keeps mumbling about rejection and heartbreak.

  Donovan and Vincent pull up and get out of the car. Vincent looks like he could throw up.

  “What in the hell is wrong with you?” I say, looking right at Vincent.

  “I spent three hours last night in a jewelry store shopping for an engagement ring for Brea,” he says, irritated.

  “How was it?”

  “Really? How do you think it was? It sucked, that’s how it was.”

  Completely confused, I ask, “Sara wasn’t able to help you?”

  “No, Sara was a big help,” he says, running his hands through his hair.

  I look over at Donovan, who shrugs his shoulders, and then I look back at Vincent.

  “If she was a big help, I’m not getting what’s wrong with you. You didn’t find a ring?”

  Vincent looks at me like I just kicked his puppy.

  “Sara and I found a ring that we are certain is perfect for Brea. It’s beautiful. It’s a two-carat, princess-cut diamond, set in a platinum and gold band. Just stunning. I bought the ring and gave them her size. I can pick the ring up next week.”

  “That’s great, so what’s the problem?” I still don’t have a clue to what’s eating him. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “I am going to propose to the most beautiful woman in the world. I swear Brea was made just for me. She is perfect, sweet, caring, and everything I have ever wanted. I want to live every single day of my life with her. I want her to have my babies. I swear I’m a better man because of her,” he says while he tries to pull his hair from his head.

  What in the hell is wrong with him? Say something, Mason. Think, think.

  “Vincent, she feels the same way about you,” I say. “All she did last night was text you. She is a great girl and you guys get along so well together.”

  “What if she says no?”

  “That’s what you’re worried about?” Donovan asks. “That you’ll propose and she’ll turn you down?”

  “Yeah, she’s the only girl who can rip my heart out of my chest. It will kill me if she says no. What if it’s too soon? What if she’s not ready?”

  “You have nothing to worry about. She damn near lives with you now. There is no way she will say no. Honestly, Vincent, if that ring is as nice as you say it is, she’ll say yes just to get the ring,” Donovan says while slapping Vincent on the back.

  We all burst out laughing.

  “Come on, I’m gonna kick both of your asses in racquetball. I’m feeling lucky today.” Donovan says. “Who’s playing me first?”

  “Good luck with that,” Vincent says before opening up his water and taking a generous drink.

  After five or six games of racquetball and two beers, we are all more relaxed and in a better frame of mind. We joke about different ways Vincent can propose to Brea, none of which he is interested in, but it got some laughs all the same. We talk about the half-marathon that Sara and Donovan are training for. We talk about the gun range on Saturday and the cookout that will follow.

  Saying our goodbyes, we all agree on meeting at the gun range on Saturday.

  “Vincent, I’ll meet you at the beach house tomorrow,” I say. “I have a few ideas about the kitchen and master bedroom that I would like to discuss.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll be there a little after 4 o’clock,” Vincent says.

  Lying in bed later, I hear my phone ding with an alert of a text message. Certain it’s Vincent to rub in what a badass he is for beating me in racquetball, I grab my phone with a grin on my face. Looking at my phone, I am shocked and I swear my heart dances a tango when I see Angel’s name.

  I read the message.

  A: Good night, Handsome.

  Wow… that’s a shocker. She’s thinking about me. This day just got better.

  M: Sweet dreams, Angel.

  I wake up well before the alarm … again. I decide I need to get a run in before work this morning. I have been slacking off the last few weeks and my body is feeling it. I put on some running shorts and shirt, grab my MP3 player, headphones, and a bottle of water and head out to the Ringling Brothers Bridge for my routine run. It is just before sunrise and already several people are out there exercising. The sun is just starting to rise over the horizon. It just feels like it’s going to be a great day.

  I stretch, turn the music up, and let my feet pound into the ground. Trying to clear my thoughts, I focus on my breathing. I set my pace and listen to the music.

  Panting and sweating, I walk the short distance home. I down another bottle of water, turn the music on the surround sound, and shower. My thoughts automatically go to Angel. She is all I have been thinking of lately. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough for me.

  I meet with a Realtor after work to view some potential office space for my practice. I have narrowed it down to only a few locations. Dad and I have plans Sunday to look at them. I really want his opinion before I commit to something so big. He was a successful businessman, being a lawyer at his own private law firm before being elected as Common Pleas Judge. He knows the area better than anyone.

  After setting up a time on Sunday with the Realtor, I head over to the beach house to see how the renovations are coming along there. Vincent is there doing some work. I tell him the changes I would like done to the master suite and kitchen. The beach house looks great and everything is coming along as planned. It should be ready sometime next month.

  I have dinner plans with my parents, so I t
ext Mom and tell her I am running a few minutes late and not to worry.

  I walk into Ruth’s Chris Steak House on Tamiami Trail and see my parents immediately. My parents have been married for 30 years and are still madly in love. My mother is a very attractive woman with the biggest heart of anyone I have ever known. She is 5’3” and slim with shoulder-length light brown hair and green eyes. My father is a tall, handsome gentleman, 6’2”, with brown eyes and brown hair graying at the temples. People say I resemble my father, while Madison, my sister, looks like my mother.

  I am met by the hostess, who already knows me.

  “Hi, Mason, it’s lovely to see you again. Please follow me. Your parents have already been seated.”

  “Thank you, Lori, it’s great seeing you again, too,” I say, smiling, and I follow her into the next room.

  As soon as my father sees me, he stands, buttoning up his jacket and leans in to hug me. My father never shakes my hand. He reserves that for nonfamily members. My father hugs me every single time he sees me, no matter where we are. My mother remains seated, and I lean down to kiss her on her cheek. She reaches her hand up to my face and pats my cheek ever so lightly.

  “I have missed you, Mason. How are you?”

  I smile at her with all the love and adoration a man can have for his mother.

  “I have missed you, too. I’m fine, working and trying to get this practice up and running.”

  My mother, Lilly, was a stay-at-home mother to Madison and me. She was on her way to becoming a renowned artist when she and my father married. She continued painting and selling her artwork until I was born, and then she devoted all of her time to her husband and child. She never once regretted her decision to give up her career for her family.

  My father, Bruce, is currently a Common Pleas Judge in Manatee County. He worked hard so my mother could stay at home to raise the kids. He had a private practice in family law before being elected as judge. They bought a house on Long Boat Key when they were married and still live there today. He had a detached glass building built just for my mother. She thought it was a greenhouse. One day while my mother was away, he had moved all of her art supplies into the building along with some of his old dress shirts she wore as smocks. When she came home, my father blindfolded her and walked her out into her new art room. It was all glass so my mother had a view of the water while she painted. The water is her inspiration. She loved to paint the water, boats, and sunsets. Madison and I could see her through the windows; she was crying with joy and my father was wiping away her tears with the pads of his thumbs, while looking into her eyes.

  My mother is a very talented artist, but she is also very sloppy. She would never wear a smock to paint in but would instead wear my father’s old tailor-made dress shirts. He would come home from work to find her painting away wearing his shirt. She told him she wears his shirt so she can feel close to him when he’s not home.

  I sit down across from my father at a 4-top table. The restaurant is very elegant, with white linen tablecloths and the soft glow of candlelight reflecting off every table. Music from a piano is softly coming from the piano bar in the other room. This is a favorite place of my parents, so we come here often. Ozzy has been playing the piano here for years.

  “I am sorry I’m late,” I say honestly. I hate to make my parents wait for me. “I had to meet with the Realtor about some properties, and then I had meet up with Vincent at the beach house to discuss some changes with the renovations.”

  “That’s ok, son. We didn’t wait long. How does the beach house look?” my father asks.

  “It looks great. We made a few minor changes in the kitchen and master suite, but other than that, everything’s good. It should be completed sometime next month.”

  The server comes over to take our drink and appetizer order. My father orders three shrimp cocktails, a bottle of champagne, and two dry martinis. My mother loves champagne and although she will drink only part of the bottle, my father always orders it for her.

  My father turns his attention back to me and says, “That is great news. Are we set up with a time to view the offices with the Realtor on Sunday?”

  “We are meeting him there at 11. I was thinking I would just pick you up and we can drive over together, if that’s ok?”

  “Sounds wonderful, dear,” my mother says. “You and your father can use some alone time together.”

  “So there you have it,” Dad says.

  “I’ll see you around 10:30 then?”

  “Sounds great.”

  “Mom, would you like to come with us?” I ask, knowing damn good and well what the answer will be. Mom wants no part of looking at empty office space, but she will make it look like she’s letting Dad and I bond.

  “Oh, no, dear. Madison and I are helping out at the soup kitchen after church on Sunday. Thank you, but you and your father go on without me. You need that time together.”

  Our drinks and appetizers arrive, and we order dinner. My father reaches over to fill my mother’s champagne glass; she smiles at him adoringly and thanks him. He winks at her before replacing the champagne bottle back into the ice. I swear she is blushing.

  That is the kind of relationship I want. A long-lasting, loving one. My father taught me as a young man to respect a woman like you would your mother, protect her like your daughter, and love her like your wife. Words I will always live by. I hope to pass that same wisdom on to my own son one day.

  Conversation flows easily through dinner. Mom speaks of her new painting she is working on. Dad talks a little about work but never speaks about trials in his courtroom. I tell them about my job and what a wonderful staff we have there. I tell them Sara and Brea fixed me up on a blind date and we are doing something tomorrow. We all have coffee and pass on dessert.

  After dinner, Dad pulls Mom’s chair out for her and she links her arm in his. The valet has our cars waiting and we say our goodbyes.

  Chapter Two: Good Friends and Good Times (A New Beginning)

  Angel

  I shower and curl up in bed with my romance novel and read about Jake and Kaye in Paradise Taken. My phone chimes that I have an incoming text message. I reach over and grab my cell phone off the table. I look at the text and it’s from a number I don’t recognize. I read the text.

  M: Angel, it was great seeing you tonight. I am looking forward to Saturday.

  OMG… My heart starts to pound. Mason? Can’t be. He doesn’t have my number. How can this be?

  A: Mason …? Is that you?

  I type nervously, waiting for his reply. Damn, now my hands are starting to sweat. Get a grip, Angel, I tell myself like I’ll actually listen.

  M: The one and only.

  Damn Sara and Brea. I should have known.

  A: Do I need to ask how you how you got my number?

  M: I got it when I was in the office today.

  Yep, Sara and Brea.

  A: Mmmm, I see.

  M: Mmmm, what’s that supposed to mean?

  A: I thought you came in to drop off donuts?

  M: I did. While I was there, I grabbed some business cards for a couple people I work with.

  A: I see…. Isn’t that sweet of you.

  M: You don’t sound convinced.

  A: I’m not. I think you’re a little sneaky.

  Yep, he is definitely sneaky. I’ll have to remember that. If he had asked me for my number, I would have gladly given it to him.

  M: lol … I’ve been called many things in my life, but sneaky has never been one of them.

  A: Well, let me be the first.

  M: Ouch. That stings.

  Laughing to myself, I love that he is starting to loosen up a little. I knew he had a playful side.

  A: Good night, Mason.

  M: Sweet dreams, Angel.

  A: Mason?

  M: Angel?

  A: If you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask for it. ;)

  M: You mean I could have saved myself $10 on donuts?

&nb
sp; A: Don’t be an ass.

  M: Ok, I’m sorry.

  If he was wondering if I was interested in him, he knows now. Smiling ear to ear, I settle deep into the blankets and read my romance book. That’s what I need right now, a little romance. If not in my life, then I will have to read about it in someone else’s life.

  I wake up before the alarm, shower, and have my coffee and read the paper on the lanai. Saturday will be here before I know it and I have a plan of what I want to wear to the shooting range. I need to head over to the novelty shop today and see if they can help me out.

  I walk into work. Sara and Brea are already there, standing beside the coffee maker chatting.

  “I always feel like I’m late when I get here,” I say seriously. “What time did you guys get here?”

  “We just got here. Still waiting on the coffee,” Brea says, holding her coffee cup upside down, to show me it’s empty.

  “Good, I was worried I had missed something.”

  “Nope, we are just talking about the cooking class today after work,” Sara beams. “I am so excited we are taking it together.”

  “Me, too,” Brea and I say together.

  We all fill our coffee cups and get to work.

  Around lunchtime there is a food delivery at the door. We each look at each other in confusion since none of us ordered food. Brea goes to the door and signs for the delivery. She pulls a few dollars from her desk drawer for a tip and hands it to the delivery guy. The delivery is from our favorite deli down the road, Anna’s Deli. Brea opens the first box, in which are three deli sandwiches. She lays the sandwiches on the table, opens the second bag, and pulls out a card with her name on it. Looking confused, she opens it and reads it to herself. She starts to smile so big that I think her face will split in half. She holds the card to her chest and closes her eyes. Sara stands up, walks over to her, and peeks inside the bag. She pulls out another box. Sara opens the box and picks up the biggest, most beautiful cupcake I have ever seen. It is white with a big red beautiful rose made from icing on top. Brea starts laughing. In shock, I walk over to Sara and Brea and look inside the box at the cupcakes. They are so elegant and beautiful, and they smell so delicious. All the cupcakes are made to look like different kind of flowers.