Last Kiss Goodbye. Rita Herron

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      During some of those long hours alone in his cell, he’d remembered all of her sacrifices. How much she gave up, so that he could have the life he now led.

      He spent hours taking her to and from her chemotherapy appointments and hired a private-duty nurse to stay with her when he couldn’t, to help her during her recovery period. After she finished the series of grueling treatments, they got the good news they both hoped for: her cancer was officially in remission. Jason then focused on rebuilding his life.

      He decided to go into a business that was totally opposite of what he had done before, that wouldn’t care much about his past history. He purchased a chain of time-share resorts that was in foreclosure. He would rise again and prove that he was a man of integrity. To get the business off the ground, Jason needed a partner or at least one or two investors, but no one would partner with him. He tried to convince himself that he didn’t need them, he’d be fine on his own, but he knew that wasn’t true. He needed partners and millions of dollars if this new venture was to succeed.

      * * *

      Red velvet. Abby’s mouth watered, but it wasn’t the cake on her plate that made her drool, or the hot August sun—it was the man she saw stepping out of a silver Lexus. He was tall, and cool like a glass of ice-cold water, the sun seeking him with its rays. He pushed up his sunglasses. She hadn’t had such a visceral reaction to a man since her divorce. Maybe the reason why he’d claimed her interest was because this man seemed the complete opposite of her ex, who always worried about what others thought of him. She could tell by the way this man held himself that he didn’t care who looked at him, and plenty of people did. He had a cool, disinterested air, and was dressed casually in a form-fitted sweater and jeans. He looked like a man of finesse. Tempting, massive and beautiful. The kind of man who could inspire poetry. Abby sighed. He was probably taken and just a fantasy for her. For a brief moment, she imagined herself sitting at a fancy dining table opposite him, holding up a fork with succulent oysters to his full, beautiful lips, the steam from a cup of hot chocolate sitting between them pushing back a cold winter day.

      Abby saw him enter the restaurant and sit down at a table. She cupped her chin in her hand, watching his every move. Then he pulled out and answered his cell phone, and she saw his face change. It wasn’t a pretty expression. It was scary. His voice was low—a rumbling murmur, but she heard every word. He used a string of swear words. Her fantasy of him quickly disappeared. She’d never heard a man be so foul. He’d be better to never open his mouth again, she thought. Abby quickly finished her dessert, paid the bill, then left. So much for her fantasy man.

      * * *

      Jason Ward was in a rage. He’d just received a phone call from a builder at one of the resort sites where renovations were being done. He’d called to let Jason know that a worker had been seriously injured because of a foolish oversight. Jason hated incompetence, and the fact that a man’s family would have to suffer as a consequence of a stupid supervisor made his blood boil. If he could do everything himself, he would, but he needed to work with others. He would have the supervisor removed.

      He was finishing his rant when his mother entered the restaurant, walked up to his table, snatched the phone out of his hand and closed it. She was in town visiting, enjoying one of her favorite pastimes, shopping, and spending time with a close gentleman friend of hers who lived nearby. Whenever she came into town, she stayed in an exclusive one-bedroom condo Jason had bought for her several years ago. It was conveniently located close to everything, including the hospital when she needed it, and she could easily use the underground metro rail to go places. This morning, the two of them had planned to meet for lunch.

      Jason stared up at her, surprised. “I wasn’t done yet.”

      “You’ve got to stop doing that.” Beatrice pulled out a chair and sat down.

      “My business?”

      “Cursing. People are looking at you.”

      “I don’t care. Do you know—”

      “I don’t care. This is why no one will work with you.”

      “I don’t need anyone. See what happened last time?”

      “You can’t do this new venture on your own, and you know it. And bullying people won’t help you either. You need to develop a new reputation if you want to rebuild your business. How can you hire the best when they don’t want to work with you?”

      Jason sighed. “What do you expect me to do?”

      “I’m glad you asked. A friend of mine told me about this.” She pushed a colorful brochure in his direction. While Jason looked the brochure over, Beatrice Ward placed her usual order, soup and salad. It was a tradition of theirs to have a mother-son luncheon when his schedule allowed. She always enjoyed the time they were able to spend together.

      “What is it?” Jason asked, frowning.

      “It’s a flyer for an image consultant. If you want to remake your business, you need to remake your image.”

      “I don’t have the time.”

      “It won’t take long, and do you really want to get more phone calls like the one you just had? If you want your business to grow in the direction you want, you need to learn some business etiquette. Your temper, especially your swearing, and your lack of tact will—”

      “What do you expect me to do? Handle an incompetent supervisor with kid gloves?”

      “No, but first you’ll learn not to interrupt someone when they’re speaking.”

      “Okay,” he agreed.

      “And what if you make an employee so angry he tries to do something to your property?”

      “You mean like set it on fire?” Jason laughed. He loved his mother, but sometimes she worried too much.

      “Yes. You never know what someone will do when they get angry.”

      Yes, he did. He’d never shared with his mother his suspicion that Dennis and Mrs. Armstrong were the ones behind him getting kicked out of his company and behind his imprisonment.

      And he didn’t plan to. He decided to just shrug, brushing the thought away.

      * * *

      Two weeks later, Jason was more concerned about his mom’s scheduled doctor’s visit. He sat in the waiting room while she got some blood work done. To keep his mind off things, Jason went to one of the vending machines and made a selection, ready for a nice sugar rush. When the candy dropped, he picked up the packet of chocolate raisins and turned, ready to head back down the hall. He stopped when he saw a little boy, about four years old, standing near the wall, crying. No one else seemed to notice him as they rushed past. Jason waited a few moments to see if someone would stop, but no one did. He silently swore. He had to be careful—he wasn’t always good with kids—but he had to find out what was wrong. He walked over to the child and knelt down to his level. “Are you lost?”

      The little boy put two fingers in his mouth and stared at him.

      Jason repeated his question in Spanish.

      The little boy continued to stare at him, but his tears dried up.

      Jason СКАЧАТЬ