Fistful of Roses (What a Woman Wants, Book 1)

by Lea Griffith

  “Ms. Hanson, while you may see this as an inappropriate conversation, let me assure you, it is anything but. Ryan is a concern of mine and always will be. He’s my partner but more than that, he’s my brother. Not biologically, but in all the other ways that make people family. Ryan matters to me, therefore, your interest in him matters to me.” He leaned back in his chair and gestured for her to take a seat. He shrugged when she shook her head and continued, “We run a multimillion dollar business, Ms. Hanson. I’ll look out for my partner, friend, and brother in any way he seems unwilling to do himself.”

  “Are you intimating that I would do something to harm Mr. Locke?” Disbelief rang in her tone. His audacity was pissing her right the hell off.

  “I’m doing no such thing. What I’m doing is watching. This could be a touchy situation and while I know Ryan, I do not know you.”

  “With all due respect, what is between your best friend and me is absolutely none of your business. It won’t ever be. In the future, you can keep your warnings and aspersions to yourself. As you said, you don’t know me.” With that, she turned toward the office door.

  He was behind her before she could twist the knob.

  “I have no thoughts on you one way or the other at this point. But let me make myself clear. If you hurt him or try to hurt this company in any way, I will personally see you pay for it. Are we understood?”

  He was as tall as Ryan and she had to crane her neck to look up at him.

  “Threat taken under advisement,” she said as she opened the door and left.

  She stayed in her office for the rest of the day. Gigi was still out sick, and there was really no one she wanted to eat lunch with anyway. She had no idea if Ryan was in the office, but she stewed until almost six o’clock about the conversation with Hayden Bent. The nerve of the man! Though part of her praised his concern for his friend, another part was pissed that he obviously thought so little of her. To think she would ever do anything mercenary to another person, well, it made her angry enough to spit nails.

  She finished some paperwork and grabbed her purse, determined to put that conversation out of her mind and see if Ryan was in still in the building.

  Soft feminine laughter rang down the hall. The source seemed to be his office. His light was on. Good, he’s in. They could talk about this morning and get everything straight. Her steps sped up. She was eager to see him. Another soft laugh followed by a deep murmur sounded, and Sophie wondered who was in his office with him. The door was partly open, and she knocked, which forced it open wider. “Ryan—”

  The sight that greeted her punched her in the gut, took her breath and sliced her heart. Ryan sat in his chair, and draped across his lap was none other than the redhead who’d almost caught them in the elevator a few days ago … Gloria something or other. Sophie thought this was the same woman he’d taken to the museum gala.

  Shock held Sophie immobile. Gloria’s face was in his neck, her hands unbuttoning his shirt to run along the muscles of his chest. He murmured something to the woman and she giggled. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was mussed, but his face was blank. His gaze pinned Sophie to the spot, the blue depths of his eyes impenetrable. She must have made a sound because he flinched, closed his eyes, and then opened them. In them Sophie saw her breaking heart.

  For just a second, something in his demeanor made Sophie think he’d set the woman aside and call out to her. But then the moment was over and with it any hope Sophie had that what she was seeing wasn’t true. His face blanked again, nothing in it to even connote he knew who the hell she was.

  “Damn, Ryan, I love when you touch me.” Gloria moaned. Sophie’s gaze followed Ryan’s hands as they caressed the woman’s ass.

  The pain was dizzying, a bitterly cold conflagration of hurt that stole her mind. The same hands that had caressed her this morning were now all over another woman. None of what they’d shared was real. It had all been a lie. Her soul cried as it broke into tiny pieces, and she realized she reached for him, but couldn’t stop the action.

  How long she stood there she didn’t know. Eventually, the other woman’s sighs became a blade against her eardrums and Sophie turned, so overwhelmed she operated on autopilot.

  She thought someone called her name, but she was at the elevator quickly and didn’t look back. Someone appeared just as the elevator doors closed, and she pressed the ground level button and waited. When the doors opened, she walked to the revolving door and exited.

  “Good night, Ms. Hanson,” Chapman, the doorman, called merrily.

  She didn’t respond, and he called her name again. She kept walking.

  “Ms. Hanson, where are you going? Do you need me to call you a cab? Ms. Hanson, are you okay?” Chapman called her name. She looked back at him, watched his lips move, but couldn’t formulate an answer.

  His look was puzzled as he walked toward her. She recognized all of this from a distance, but the desire to speak, act, or feel was gone. Ice encased her and instinctively she sought the frigid contact because the pain would be an inferno once she acknowledged it.

  “Ms. Hanson, I’ll call you a cab, okay, ma’am? Here’s one now,” Chapman said as he handed her into the cab and stepped back, tipping his hat at her. His face was worried but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

  “Where to, ma’am?” the cab driver asked.

  “Grady Hospital,” she responded.

  * * * *

  She’d been sitting by her mother’s bed for hours. A new shift of nurses had come in and greeted her, offering her refreshment but finally leaving her alone. They probably wondered why she was here on a weekday, but they were polite enough to keep any questions to themselves. Maybe they’d taken pity on her. Surely her idiocy was written on her forehead?

  The machines keeping her mother alive beeped and wheezed, chuffled and whined. Tubes ran down her throat, IVs littered her arms, and monitor leads covered her head and chest. She was only forty-two years old, entirely too young to be at death’s door. Yet death was knocking, and her mother was a victim of her own insatiable need for drugs and men. She’d had Sophie a month after she’d turned sixteen, Gavin a little less than a year later. It had been downhill from there. Life over before it’d even begun, Andromeda Hanson hadn’t ever had an opportunity to do anything more than survive. She found life in a dream world with the bite of a needle.

  Her mother’s chest rose and fell rhythmically. Sophie thought about the heart that struggled underneath the frail rib cage. The monitors assured Sophie the weary organ continued to beat. What would that same monitor say about Sophie’s tonight?

  “Ms. Hanson, the doctor is here, and he’d like to speak with you.”

  Sophie’s reverie was broken by a nurse’s words. Something in her tone was a knell of epic proportions. Sophie nodded. The nurse left and she was alone with a young man, portly in stature but with a kind face and knowledgeable eyes.

  “Ms. Hanson, I’m Dr. Carraway. I’ve assumed care of your mother. I’m glad you came in tonight.”

  Eyes could tell a person everything. Ryan’s had spoken volumes tonight.

  She closed her own eyes against the burn. “Pleasure to meet you, Dr. Carraway. Call me Sophie.”

  “Tell me, would you like a cup of coffee?” He smiled and it was full of pity.

  “I’m good tonight, I think. I just came in to talk to Mama.”

  “Yes, well, I’m glad you did. Ms. Hanson—um, Sophie—your mom’s not doing well. I know you’re aware of her condition, but over the past few hours she’s deteriorated and the respirator is struggling to keep her alive at this point.”

  Sophie looked at him sharply. Surely he wasn’t saying…

  “Yes, Sophie. Your mom’s dying and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I think she only has a few hours left. We tried to reach you earlier, but got no answer at your office or your cell.” He reached over and patted her shoulder awkwardly.

  She drew in a shaky breath. The knife in her heart twisted.
She didn’t cry. There weren’t any tears. Her eyes were on fire, but she couldn’t cry. Too much had happened a few hours ago, and no matter how bad this pain, she couldn’t afford to lose it. Not now.

  She’d denied this time was so close. She was mentally unprepared for it. It had only been a few days since the stroke. “I was encouraged to make arrangements the day of the stroke, but I held out hope even though Dr. Morton told me it was a matter of time.” She took a deep breath, and her voice hitched. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for her. She’s comfortable, right?” You can get through this, Soph. She hasn’t been Mama for a long time now.

  “She’s comfortable, but we’ll only remove the respirator when you tell us you’re ready,” he told her.

  “Give me a little more time with her, Dr. Carraway. And I need to try to call my brother.”

  “Let us know, Sophie. We’re here for you. Is there anyone you’d like me to contact?” he asked with a searching glance.

  She shook her head and he faded away. She sat beside her mother and prayed before she picked up the phone and dialed Gigi’s number.

  “I’m coming up there, Sophie. You need someone there with you,” her friend said.

  “I’ll be fine, Gigi. I don’t have Gavin’s phone number anymore. When we get off, can you contact him and ask him to at least call up here? I doubt he’ll show up, but I need to let him know he doesn’t have much longer, couple hours, maybe less.”

  “Dammit, Sophie, you aren’t doing this alone. I’m on my way.” Gigi hung up.

  Sophie placed the phone in its cradle, hoping Gavin would call, knowing he wouldn’t. He had always kept in touch with Gigi for some reason. It was why Sophie had asked Gigi to contact him. The least judgmental person Sophie knew, Gigi had always had a soft spot for Sophie’s wayward brother.

  She drew a shuddering breath. And then she talked to her mother.

  For an hour, she reminisced about the good times. It took her no time at all to absolve the woman before her of any wrongdoing. She’d been broken early on, and she’d done the best she could by Sophie and Gavin.

  Andromeda had just been too fragile for this world and too weak to overcome her addiction.

  She called for Dr. Carraway and signed the papers to stop the respirator. He patted her hand and then left the room.

  “I love you, Mama. I’ve always loved you,” Sophie whispered and felt a hand on her shoulder.

  Gigi hugged her and sat beside her, holding her hand and offering her love and comfort. It was good she was there because Sophie was about to break.

  “I told her she can go on. It’s time for her to be happy,” Sophie whispered.

  Gigi nodded. “That’s a good thing, Phie. She deserves the rest.”

  “I’m going to let her go, Gigi, because I love her.” Silence for a moment. “But I want her to stay, too, because I love her.” Her voice cracked. “I love her, Gigi.”

  “Sophie, it’s time,” Dr. Carraway said in a quiet voice.

  Sophie wiped her eyes, surprised to find the wetness on her cheeks. She looked at Gigi. “Did you get ahold of Gavin?”

  Gigi shook her head and Sophie took a deep breath and then nodded at the doctor. “I can hold her hand, can’t I?”

  “Of course. I’m going to shut the respirator off. You can be here as long as you need,” he assured her.

  He moved to the other side of her mother’s bed and flipped a tiny black switch. The sound was a sonic boom in the stillness of the room.

  “I’ll leave you now. We’re monitoring from the nurses’ station and the charge nurse is right here.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Gigi stepped closer to hug Sophie.

  Her mother’s face, once the most beautiful thing Sophie had ever seen, was lined with pain and the ravages of the drugs she had taken over the years. Her hair had long ago turned gray and fallen out in clumps. Her body was now just a defeated shell.

  It didn’t take long, a sure indication that her mother was ready to move from one life to the next. Her chest continued to rise in front of Sophie’s eyes for a few minutes. Then it became slower and slower, until there was a shuddering breath and then no more.

  Sophie stared hard, expecting it to rise again. Expecting her mother to miraculously breathe on her own. It didn’t happen. There were no miracles in Sophie Hanson’s life tonight. She held her mother’s hand, bowed her head, and wept. She wept for all the ways her mother had failed and been failed. She wept for herself and her brother and everything they’d not had in a mother. But mostly she wept because her mother had finally gained something Sophie had never been able to give her: peace.

  Chapter 12

  Four days later and the late afternoon sun shone like brilliant stardust on her mother’s silver casket. As they lowered her into the ground, Sophie decided sunshine was good. Clean and new, it would surely usher her mother into an eternity free of pain. Yeah. Sunshine was good today.

  “Sophie, I’d like you to stay with me and Pops for a few days.” Gigi’s quiet voice came to her as if from a great distance.

  Sophie looked up into the brilliant blue of the sky above her and knew a pain so great she almost staggered under its force. Not yet, Sophie. Just a little longer, but not yet.

  “Sophie, did you hear me?” Gigi called to her as she grabbed her hand, and they started walking back to the small chapel on the cemetery grounds.

  “I heard you, Gigi. And I appreciate the offer, but I need to go home and rest. It’s been a rough couple of days and I need some sleep. I’m fine.” She turned to her friend and offered a small smile. “I was holding out hope, but she’s gone now. I have to face it sooner or later, and I’d rather it be sooner.” She glanced around, the one face she wanted to see more than any other nowhere around.

  “I called him but never got an answer,” Gigi said quietly.

  Confusion fogged her brain for a moment. “Who?”

  “Your brother.” Gigi tilted her head and scrunched her eyebrows together.

  “Oh, yeah, I didn’t think you would. But I’d thought—” She trailed off, unsure what she’d thought actually. Her brother couldn’t probably care less their mother was dead. It was Ryan’d she’d irrationally been looking for.

  “You’ve got meals for the next couple of days and work knows your mother passed. You may have to use some sick time, but they aren’t expecting you until next Monday.”

  Sophie stopped and turned fully to her friend, grabbing her hands. “I appreciate you so much, Gigi. You have no idea. I know you missed work today, but I’m so glad you were here with me.” Deep breath. “I’ll be fine. I just need a few days to mourn.” Her words had gone thick. She swallowed and reached for control.

  “I’ll call you tonight and make sure you don’t need anything. Sophie? Are you sure you’re okay?” Gigi peered at her, concern lining her face and dimming the brightness of her eyes.

  “I’m a big girl. This is my path to walk. Touch base with me. I may need you in a couple of days, but I’m good right now.” Sophie hugged her tight.

  “I’m sure Mr. Locke and Mr. Bent would have been here had they not been out of the country,” Gigi explained with a searching look.

  Sophie kept her expression blank, though how she managed it was anyone’s guess. “I’m sure they would have. You go on now. Tell Pops thank you, and Gigi? I love you dearly.”

  Gigi hugged her once more, kissed her on the cheek, and turned to leave. “You’ll call if you need anything, right?”

  “I will,” Sophie said. “I promise.”

  Gigi finally nodded and left.

  Sophie was almost too tired to move, and there were still details to be hammered through before she was able to go home and rest.

  “Ms. Hanson? If you’ll come this way, we’ll get you the memory book and flowers,” a kindly older man said.

  “Thank you, sir. I’d appreciate it.”

  Of course, there was also business to attend. She was paying for the funeral out of pocket. She’
d taken a policy out on her mother a couple of years ago when she’d realized her mother was a walking time bomb. That policy would help her recoup some of her out-of-pocket expense, but the bill had to be paid in full. This particular funeral home didn’t do lease with an option to buy.

  An hour later found Sophie unloading a single peace lily from her car. She carried it and the memory book into the house and locked up. She toed off her heels, unpinned her hat, and shed her coat, sinking wearily onto the couch with a harsh sigh. She’d yet to really cry, the tears still locked up tight. And she’d yet to acknowledge what had happened with Ryan almost a week ago.

  Jesus, had it only been four, almost five, days ago she’d walked in on him and Gloria? It felt like an eternity, but that still wasn’t long enough to ease the pain of what she’d seen. Then her mother had passed that same night, and everything since had been a blur.

  And it really wasn’t wise to think about Ryan Locke at this moment. All she wanted to do was get some sleep. The memory book taunted her. She’d had some old pictures of her, Gavin, and Mama from years ago, and she’d had the funeral home put them in the book. No one but she and Gigi had shown for the funeral. Mama hadn’t had many friends before she’d gotten so bad off, but not even her own son had come to her funeral.

  It wasn’t surprising, but damn did it hurt. She fingered the cold gold filigree writing on the book and grimaced. Against her will, her fingers opened the book. The first picture was one of Mama holding her and Gavin. Gavin looked to be maybe a year old which put Sophie around two. Mama’s face was so proud.

  A sharp ache ravaged her chest, and a lump formed in her throat. Picture after picture she flipped through, all reminding her of happier times. There was nothing after Sophie turned fifteen. Life had changed irrevocably then, and there’d been no more pictures. The ache blossomed into a full-fledged sting, but the lump in her throat never disappeared and her eyes remained dry.

  Her mother had tried. She’d give her that. But Andromeda had been too weak and too obsessed with her own needs to care for Gavin and Sophie. She leaned her head back against the couch and breathed in roughly.