“It is that simple! That’s my point. He doesn’t have anyone to blame like you do. It’s all on him. Why add to that? He lost the love of his life, and surely you can see that he needs you now.” She closes her eyes briefly, tears coating her eyelids as she opens them, and it guts me. “I pray that one day I can honour these words because she probably doesn’t even deserve it, but when the time comes, I will be with my mother in her final breaths. After all she put me through, I can see past it. I can see it for what it is. She did what she thought was okay, just to survive. Her choices were selfish and callous at times, but I’m still here because she allowed me to be. I will hold her in her last breath like she did for my first. Because it’s the right thing to do. You have a dad who loves you. Please don’t waste that.”
“Come here, baby.” I pull her to me, dragging us up the bed until she is straddling my hips and hugging my chest.
How can this woman be so pure?
After everything she has been through and continues to endure at the hands of her mother. I can only hope for that level of acceptance towards my own parent.
“I will go with him tomorrow,” I tell her.
“Do it for you, Mase, not for me.” She sighs into my chest.
I am.
16
Mase
George,my new receptionist.
I’m unsure as to whether Sal is screwing with me with this one. When I arrived this morning to find him eagerly waiting at the doors of my office, I had to do a double take. Wearing his suit and bow tie, and shoes shinier than his forehead—which shines bright in its own right—the man was glowing.
He managed to talk my ear off for the first half an hour, telling me about his mother who lives in Canterbury and his granny in the south. Jesus, I already know this one won’t last long, and he’s not even female.
“Mr Lowell, your coffee,” he says, placing a mug on my desk. “I familiarised myself with your system, but I think we should change it. Your clients aren’t even logged in alphabetical order. It’s…” He makes a face, turning his head into his shoulder. “Truly offensive.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean back in my chair, a headache already forming. “Do whatever you need to do, okay? Follow me.” I stand, walking around the desk and out to reception.
“This here is a button you can press to feed me all important information. I prefer my employees to use it to avoid unnecessary interruptions.” I nod, hoping it reaffirms my point.
“Oh, I find that very impersonal, Mr Lowell.”
“Yes, exactly.” I pat his back, leaving him at the desk as I return to my office.
The intercom buzzes not thirty seconds later. “I think we are going to get along famously, Mr Lowell.”
I shake my head, a small smile tugging at my lip.
* * *
“Ahh, you fucker,”Lance shouts, chucking his cards at Elliot.
“Can you pricks go do that somewhere else? I’m trying to work here.”
“Don’t give us that bull, you were looking at hotels in Moscow just now.” Charlie smiles, calling me out.
The boys got here an hour ago, and the three of them are now sitting around my office sofas playing poker on the coffee table.
“I’m trying to find somewhere to take Nina to watch the ballet,” I mutter, squinting at the screen.
“In fucking Moscow?” Lance frowns, picking up the cards he threw after losing all his chips.
“Does she even do ballet?” Elliot asks.
“She told me last night that it was her dream to watch the ballet one day.”
“So, take her to The Royal Opera House to see Swan Lake,” Elliot suggests, coming to stand behind me.
“Oooo, I’ve been to The Royal Opera House. Swan Lake. Swoon. Liam took me for my birthday. So romantic.”
