Hard Choices

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Hard Choices Page 4

by Ellson, Theresa


  “I’m glad he’s happy, I truly am. I want my children to have a happy father whom they want to spend time with. I hope you guys can get along with Sarah, too. I mean,” I held up my hands, “let’s not go crazy. I don’t see us all spending holidays together,” I raised my eyebrows and Kyle laughed. “But in years to come, at weddings, and graduations, and when my grandchildren are born, I want us all to get along. I can hardly fault Sarah for being what your dad wanted when I had zero interest in trying to be what he wanted.”

  Kyle just stared at me for few seconds. Long enough that I got uncomfortable enough to finally say, “What? WHAT?”

  He shrugged and said, “I just… I think I thought you were putting up a front for me and Danny and Becca. I thought you were trying really, really hard to make sure we didn’t hate Dad for splitting up our family.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I realize… well, everything you just told me. I hadn’t seen it that way. But it… it makes sense.”

  I sighed. “Wow. I am a fantastic mother, you know that? I raised incredible kids! You sure are smart!”

  “God, Mom!” Kyle rolled his eyes.

  “So now you really believe me that I’m fine? In fact, I’m great?”

  “Yes!” he laughed.

  “Great! Then do me a favor – tell your brother and sister, too, so they stop bugging me with the most annoying question on the planet: ‘Are you OK, Mom?’ Closely followed by the second most annoying question: ‘How are you, Mom? Really?’” We both laughed. “I know you guys love me, I really do. And I love that you’re thinking of me, I just wish I could convince you not to be worried about me.”

  “I will tell them, I promise!” he held up his hands in surrender, and again, I saw my little boy. Playing Wild West with his brother and sister, being caught by the sheriff.

  “You’re beautiful, you know that?” I said softly, sincerely.

  “Yeeeees, Mom,” he said, exasperated.

  “All right,” I said, standing up, “since you’re here, why don’t you help your mom paint this kitchen?”

  “Well now that I know you’re fine, I’m kind of busy…”

  “Nice try, smart-ass. Grab a brush.”

  And he did. It was nice. We painted, and chatted. Kyle told me how work was going, and about a four-plex he had his eyes on. Kyle already owned two properties, so I teased him about being the Donald Trump of north Idaho, and begged him never to let his hair get that weird. He threw a rag at me. Everything finally, finally, felt like it had gotten back to normal. I was very thankful.

  Chapter 4

  “Morning, Lyssa,” Robert said as he popped into my office one morning in late March.

  “Hi, Robert!”

  “You know, I think it might be indecent to glow this much after a divorce,” he said dryly and I grinned. My divorce had been finalized a few days before. “I take it everything went well? I haven’t had a chance to ask you.”

  “Yeah. Neither of us had any intention of making it ugly. We split things pretty evenly. I’m keeping the house for now. I’ll probably hold onto it for a few years yet. Since he took the boat, snowmobiles, and all the other crap he acquired over the years, I didn’t even have to buy him out. It was an even trade. And I’m glad. I don’t want the kids to lose their family home, you know?”

  Robert nodded. “That’s probably wise. You couldn’t get much for it in this market, anyway.”

  “Yeah. Thank god Scott and I never got stupid and treated it like an ATM machine. It’ll be paid off in another couple years… and then I can retire and leave my high-powered career behind and relax for a change!” We both laughed at that. One of the things people loved about working for Robert was that it wasn’t a stressful office, even during tax season. We had cultivated a very select clientele, and it was a really pleasant work environment.

  “It was fairly quick and painless, really. Thanks for recommending that mediator, by the way.” I glanced into the reception area as I saw someone walk up to Jean’s desk. “She was really easy to work – oh good god,” I gasped, “who the hell is THAT?” I stood up slowly behind my desk to get a better look at who was standing at the front desk, talking to a now very-flushed Jean. A 6’2” piece of male heaven. Mid-twenties, sandy blond hair, wide shoulders, narrow hips. Damn, the man could wear a suit! And his smile… it was easy to see why Jean was flushed.

  “Who?” said Robert turning around. “Oh, that must be my nine o’clock interview, Aaron Sellers.” I must have looked blank, because he said, “Remember? I told you a couple of weeks ago?”

  I vaguely remembered a brief conversation we’d had about a month prior. Still staring at the gorgeous man in our reception area, I said, “Yeah, right, right. So he’s interviewing for a summer internship?” I hadn’t taken my eyes off of him. Robert wasn’t fazed, though. Molly and Alan and I were famous for shamelessly “scouting hotties.” If we were out, we’d nudge each other, then roll our eyes skyward and whistle nonchalantly. That was the other person’s clue that a gorgeous piece of man fruit was nearby. Robert and J.J. invariably rolled their eyes at us, but recognized it was all in good fun. Scott had no reaction to our antics, I suddenly realized… because he’d never been around.

  “Hello?” Robert waved his hand in my line of vision.

  “What?” I grinned at him, “I’m married, I’m not – “ I caught myself and stopped short. “Oh my god. I’m not married.” The sudden implications terrified me. Innocent joking or even flirting could lead to something… somewhere I didn’t know if I was prepared to go. I slumped back into my chair and looked up at Robert helplessly.

  “Oh, honey,” he said tenderly. Robert was rarely anything but consummately professional in the office, so I knew he was worried.

  “No, I’m fine,” I said quietly. “It just… hit me all of a sudden. Listen, go do your interview. Call me if you want me to come in.” Robert usually did initial interviews for accountants or interns, but had me meet them before he hired them. When I interviewed new office staff, I did the same thing. This way, if someone obviously wasn’t a good fit, we didn’t waste each other’s time.

  “OK,” Robert opened the door and stepped out. He looked like he was about to say something, but then he just closed the door behind him and walked out to Jean’s desk. Mr. Sellers turned as though Robert had called his name. He stuck out his hand to Robert and smiled genuinely. Wow, that kid was gorgeous. So gorgeous, he actually distracted me from the weird turn my brain had just taken down Divorcée Lane. But when Robert showed him the way to his office, as soon as he was out of my line of sight, my brain went haywire again.

  I had to call Molly.

  I looked at the clock and realized that Molly was in her free period. She picked up right away, probably surprised I had actually called and not just texted.

  “Molly, I’m not married anymore,” I said flatly.

  “Yes, Lyssa, I know,” she said just as tonelessly. “Oh crap – are you finally freaking out? Do you need me to come get you? Can Robert take you home?”

  “No… I mean, I’m fine… I just… I’m not married anymore. My kids are grown and gone. I am answerable to no one. No one. For the first time since I was nineteen years old, I… am… completely… alone.”

  “Shit, you are freaking out. Where’s Robert? Maybe Jean can drive you – “

  “Molly! I’m having a moment here!” I said. Then I whispered, “And it’s beautiful!”

  For a solid ten seconds, there was dead silence on the line. Then suddenly, Molly was howling with laughter. “Oh baby!” she finally choked out. “There’s a new cougar on the prowl!”

  I sat up straight in my chair. We were constantly joking about getting our inner cougars on. “How did you know that? How did you know a gorgeous twenty-something kid inspired this realization in me? How the hell did you make that connection?” I asked, shocked.

  “Because I glanced at the clock and realized that Aaron Sellers must have just walked through your door!” s
he howled with laughter again. Suddenly the name clicked. The Sellers were a well-known family in our area. Molly’s boss, the vice-principal of her high school, was friends with them.

  “Did you get this kid this interview with Robert?”

  “Yup!” she said gleefully. “My boss asked me if I’d arrange it, and I said I’d be happy to forward his resume to Robert. Aaron came in here to personally thank me, and all I could think was, ‘Do you have to thank me with your shirt on?’ Holy hell, that kid is smokin’ hot, isn’t he?”

  “Yah.” I said. “What’s his story? Do you know? Not that I have a shot in hell, of course… or that I’d even try. But… he’s just so pretty!”

  She laughed into the phone. “Oh, you have a shot, Lyssa. From what I hear, that boy is a playah, ma sistah!”

  “Oh please. Like he’d look at me.”

  “Ugh! Lyssa, you know Alan and I have been telling you for years that you don’t give yourself enough credit! You have a great bod for a thirty-year-old, let alone a forty-year-old mother of three! Your smile lights up a room. You’re sharp and quick and funny. What are you wearing?”

  “I – what?” her sudden shift threw my off. “Uh, Molly, if you’re trying to get me to practice phone sex, this is not the time…”

  “No, dumb-ass, I just want to know what you’re wearing. It’s not one of your boring sweater-sets, is it? Oh god, tell me it’s not a boring sweater-set.”

  Actually, no. I’d woken up feeling saucy that morning, for some reason. Probably because spring was in the air. So instead of my normal business-slacks-plus-boring-business-blouse work “uniform,” I’d thrown on a red linen sheath that Molly had talked me into buying. She’d picked out a long black blazer to go with it. Even I knew I looked fantastic in it.

  “Red sheath, black blazer.”

  “Take the coat off. Show off your arms. You look amazing in that dress, and you know it. Now go look in a mirror, and ask yourself, why wouldn’t he look at you?”

  Suddenly, I looked down at my left ring finger: that’s why. I was still wearing my wedding set. It hadn’t occurred to me until just that second to take it off. It had been a part of me for twenty-two years. How had I not ripped it off the second Scott moved out? “Fuck!” I muttered under my breath.

  “Uh oh,” snickered Molly, “she’s dropping F-bombs! What’s going on?”

  “I’m trying to get my wedding ring off!” I snarled.

  “Atta girl!” Molly cheered.

  Just then, my office phone rang. “Hold on, Molly! Your brother’s calling!” I switched my cell phone to my other ear and picked up my office phone. “This is Lyssa,” I said in a parody of my professional voice. I heard Molly guffaw on the other line.

  “Lyssa, if you’re not too busy, would you join me in my office for a few minutes?”

  Whoa. If he was calling me into an interview this early in the game, he must really like this kid. “Yes, of course, Robert. I’ll finish up here, and be there in about five minutes.”

  “Thank you,” Robert said and hung up.

  “Don’t worry about me!” Molly said excitedly.

  “I’m not worried about you, dumbass! I have to get this stupid ring off! And put some lipstick on! Bye!” I hung up the phone to peals of Molly’s laughter.

  I tore off my blazer, threw it over my guest chair, and headed out my door and down the hallway to our restroom. I kept a little make-up bag in there so I didn’t have to carry stuff in my purse. I found some lotion in there and slathered it on my finger. I managed to work the ring up over the knuckle, but then I yanked so hard, my ring went flying. “Fuuuuuuuck!” I hissed under my breath. I’ll look for it later, I thought, besides, it’s worth what, 250 bucks? No great loss…

  I rummaged around for lipstick, but only came up with clear lip balm. “DAMN IT!” I muttered under my breath. I leaned into the mirror, then bit my lips to redden them and get them a little swollen. As I manically wiped lip balm across my lips, I caught my reflection and stopped.

  What the hell was wrong with me? Forty-one years old, I’d been single for less than three months. And I thought I had a chance with a twenty-something who looked like he’d walked off a billboard ad? Was I out of my mind? I smiled at myself a little sadly, a little empathetically. “It’s all right, Lyssa,” I whispered to myself. “A girl’s gotta dream, right?” I stood up, smoothed my dress and took a deep breath. I needed to go do my job. I needed to interview this kid for a position with us. I needed to pull my head out of my ass.

  I took one last deep breath, shook my head a little to clear my fuzzy brain, and walked out the bathroom door, down the hallway and around the corner… smack into Aaron the Billboard Model, who was coming down the hall with Robert.

  “Oh! Excuse me!” after my pep talk to myself, this was exactly what I needed as part of my reality check: to make a total fool of myself in front of this gorgeous kid.

  “No, excuse me,” he said. Wow. Even his voice was sexy. Deep, velvety smooth. My inner cougar growled. A little. I looked up into crystal blue eyes framed by thick, dark-blond lashes. I caught my breath as he held my gaze, his expression registering surprise, then changing to… something else, as a slow smile spread across his face.

  Belatedly, I realized we were still standing practically on top of each other. In a reflex to keep me from falling, he had instinctively gripped my elbows when I’d bounced off of him. And he hadn’t let go. We were still standing there, staring into each other’s eyes, when Robert said quietly, “Lyssa, I’d like you to meet Aaron Sellers. He’s applying for a summer internship with us.” Oh Robert. I could always count on him to point my compass back to north.

  Aaron released my elbows, but didn’t really step back as he held out his hand. I took his hand in mine and used my firmest grip. He swallowed my hand in both of his and said warmly, sincerely, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lyssa.” For just one second, I was totally taken in. My god, this kid just oozed sex out of every pore… then I heard Molly’s voice in my head: “That boy is a play-ah, ma sistah!” And I knew. I knew exactly who I was looking at: a man used to getting exactly what he wanted by charming the pants off of willing women.

  In the space of two heartbeats, I felt the reality check hit my brain, and the dreamy smile smeared across my face turned into my normal professional expression. “Hello, Aaron,” I backed up several steps and shook his hand firmly once more. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I take it you were headed to get coffee, Robert?”

  “Yes,” Robert said smoothly, gesturing down the hallway. Aaron released me and I started down the hallway, with Aaron and Robert following me. I glanced back at Aaron, and saw such a look of confusion on his face. I had to suppress a giggle. He wasn’t used to being treated like that – like he was nothing special. He was used to be ogled by women all day. I’d only ogled him for a few seconds. I think it annoyed him.

  “Lyssa, Aaron will finish his second year of law school this May,” Robert deftly continued the conversation.

  “Congratulations, Aaron,” I said in my most professional tone, giving him my most professional smile. “So what brought you to us?” I turned to the cabinet and took out three coffee mugs embossed with “Miller & Associates” on the sides. I poured three mugs and handed them out, then pointed out the sugar and pulled the cream out of the fridge.

  By this time, Aaron had recovered nicely and gotten back into his professional groove. “Well, in school I really enjoy tax law,” Robert and I exchanged a glance at that. We knew we were being schmoozed. “And I think it’s the way I want to go.”

  “Really?” Robert asked. “Why?”

  I fully expected that to trip Aaron up. I fully expected that question to reveal his skin-deep charm. I was wrong.

  “Well, uh,” he stammered a bit. It was adorable. “It’s no secret I come from a family that has been… blessed,” (that was a very classy way of saying “I was raised filthy rich.” Humble, too. Dear Lord.) “but I’ve seen the flip side of that, too. Tax l
aw is somewhere where, sure, you’re going to have a lot of really wealthy clients, but you’re also going to have a chance to help the little guy – that guy who inherited a family business he’s dying to hold onto… or that single mom who has been killing herself to build her business. I’m realistic – I know being a successful lawyer will mean having a lot of wealthy clients, but I’d really like a chance to be able to do some pro bono work that really matters to me.”

  I handed him a napkin and studied his face. Was that affected? I didn’t think so. He seemed sincere.

  “I had honestly never looked at it that way before,” said Robert. I smirked a little. Even Robo Robert was susceptible to this guy’s charms! “Well, let’s go back to my office and talk specifics.” Whoa! Robert was going to offer him the job right then and there! He never did that. He always deliberated at least a week. I wracked my brain to think of a way to slow Robert down, so he didn’t do something he’d regret.

  “Um, Aaron,” I began slowly, walking behind them as they headed down the hall. Jesus, even under a suit coat, that man’s ass could make you cry. “I take it you brought a resume? And some references?”

  “Yes,” he smiled that melt-your-lady-parts smile at me, “they’re in Mr. Miller’s office.”

  “Perfect!” I said brightly. “Let me just grab those, and I’ll meet you back in Robert’s office in a few minutes.” It was pretty clear I intended to study his resume and check his references, but Aaron didn’t miss a beat. I stood in the hallway while Robert and Aaron headed into Robert’s office. When Aaron reached across Robert’s desk, his suit coat stretched tightly across his shoulders. I felt my inner cougar purr a little. OK, a lot.

 

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