So, I explain further. “A store where you could find international food, clothing, and knickknacks. Dad owned a Latin cuisine restaurant. With all the expenses, we started losing money. Eva’s husband bought the restaurant to help. At least the place is still within the family.”
“What happened to your mom’s store, and is Eva the oldest sister, or the one before Marco?”
“Eva is my oldest sister, but she’s younger than Santiago,” I explain. “Then it’s Alexa, Marco, and me. We lost Mom’s store.”
“How do they feel about having your parents move here?”
“They are okay with that. Santiago traveled with my parents to make sure the place is safe, and please, don’t take it personally when he starts asking you questions,” I plead. “They don’t help financially, but they love to judge my decisions.”
“Why don’t they help them?” she asks. “If my parents were in need, my brothers would pitch in too.”
“In the beginning, they used to be in charge,” I say, and then give her the entire explanation.
I was in high school when Mom had a series of strokes. My siblings and cousins stepped up to help. They convinced me to go to college because they had it under control. I was working to help at least with my expenses. My parents had saved enough money to send us to college. Instead of using it for my tuition, I offered them to pay for Mom’s expenses. I wouldn’t be the first or last person with a student loan. They agreed, as long as I finished college.
I helped Dad when I had free time. Once I graduated, they pushed me to go into grad school because they knew how important it was for me. I applied for a scholarship at Merkel where you could intern, and they’d pay you for grad school as long as you worked for them for at least three years after acquiring your diploma.
By the time I graduated, I had two jobs, plus the internship at Merkel. I was helping more at home. Suddenly, they all had a lot of financial responsibilities. Since I had the means, I took over. It wasn’t their intention to dump it all on me, but it worked out that way. They always tell me to quit, that we will all figure out how to support them together.
“Even when I bitch about my job, I know this is the best for everyone,” I conclude.
“Best for your family, but what about you?”
“I feel like I’m never going to get past this point, you know,” I admit. “This is it. Until I retire, I’m going to be a permanent fixture in Henry’s office. Money is all I can get from him, and I want more.”
When I finish that sentence, I’m not sure if I referred to my career or the man. He’s never going to give anyone more than what he promises in all his dating contracts. He hasn’t even offered me one. At least, I’d know the limits and our expiration date.
“So much more,” I repeat, closing my eyes and remembering the kiss he just gave me. “And I know it’s an impossible dream because this is my life, and I can’t get past this.”
“You sound defeated.”
“No, just… I feel like all my hard work is going to waste. It’s when I visit my parents I’m reminded why it’s so important. It’s because of this job that Mom is still around. I’m just…these are my five minutes of feeling sorry for myself. Once I move away from this swing, I’m going to be okay with what’s happening. I might complain about my bad luck, but I’m lucky not to have lost my mother when I was eighteen. It’s a compromise. A balance. A bargain I made with God promising to do anything he puts in front of me in exchange for having Mom at least a few more years.”
“It can be more than just a few,” she offers.
“The prognosis was that she wouldn’t recover and would die soon,” I mumble, hugging myself. “I’ll take any extra time with her.”
“We’ll make sure it’s longer. That’s a promise.”
Those words give me hope and also the strength to continue. As I look around the property, I realize that ever since Henry moved into this town, I’ve felt more at home than I have in several years. It’s not about the place, more like the people who I’ve been sharing my time with. Every weekend when I visit, I feel happier. It’s better than any other place. I was wrong about one thing, this place isn’t hell or the town that we need to fix. And these people are more than just the family Henry refused to acknowledge.
I rest my head on her shoulder. “It’s good to be home.”
Henry
One of the hardest things I’ve done in the past few days—other than not jumping on a plane to drag Sophia back to Baker’s Creek—is to try to ignore Sophia’s scent, her voice, her skin. Everything about her is addictive.
And her lips, I can’t get enough of them. This woman has a hold on me like no one has ever before. It took a lot of strength, restraint, and self-determination to abide by her wishes and not continue kissing her—or fuck her. Even more so to leave the house.
Even though the emotions from this encounter are gripping my heart and making it beat fast, I am calm. I’m more relaxed than I’ve been in the past couple of weeks. Which, like everything that’s related to Sophia, makes no sense. The hole her absence left a couple of weeks ago is now filled with the promise that she’ll be close to me.
She’s finally here, with me.
As I walk toward The Lodge, I try not to think much about her and how beautiful she looks today. Her dark, long hair is down, covering her bare shoulders, and the outfit she wears is casual and yet, she looks stylish as usual.
I make my way to the office just to drop my computer off. There is a lot I have to do around the hotel. We finally received the new furniture. The restoration of The Lodge is in its second phase. We’re focusing on the guestrooms. We closed a few rooms at a time to paint, change the carpet, and renovate the bathrooms. Now with the furniture here, we can furnish and open them as early as this weekend.
When I’m done, I head to my office where I collapse on the leather sofa. The erection our encounter created subsided during my walk, but that doesn’t mean I’m not on the edge. I need to have her, and she already put a big wall between us. That, and her family is in town.
What the fuck was I thinking when I said, “I’ll bring your parents?”
Don’t get me wrong, they seem like decent people, but they were not impressed by me. Not at all. If anything, they had a hard time hiding their animosity. I assume Sophia tells them all about me, and it’s obvious how she paints me.
What am I supposed to do now?
As if I’m invoking the Aldridge forces, Pierce enters into my office.
“Has anyone taught you the concept of knocking?” I ask.
“Says the man who barges into my office thinking he’s my boss,” he retorts.
“Great, we’re having a family reunion,” Beacon says, taking a seat behind my desk. “I don’t understand how you can call this work.”
“What do you need, kid?” I ask trying not to sound harsh.
“Hottie is here, and he’s still holding a grudge,” Beacon says. He places his elbows on top of the desk and says with a deadpan serious face, “My dude, you have to chill the fuck out. We need to talk about this situation. It’s obvious that you haven’t fucked in quite some time. Have you thought about using your hand to jerk off? Or do you always have your butler do it for you?”