TWENTY-FIVE
Rose
I hate After-Life Meetings. They’re my least favorite part of the job. It’s the perfect trifecta for an uncomfortable situation. Usually, someone cries, someone gets offended, or someone gets so passive-aggressive that we have to halt the entire meeting. I wish these conversations weren’t necessary, but when you’re working with the wealthy, they’re often also elderly, so death is inevitable.
Today, I’m in Hanover, a small town forty-five minutes outside of the city, at the sprawling estate that belonged to the late Hugh Bettencourt. He was my client for three years, during most of which he battled a rare form of aggressive cancer. He was seventy-four when he passed last week.
Now, his wife, six children, and younger brother sit in front of me in an overly ornate living room overlooking an expansive garden and private pond. I’ve walked them through the will execution, inheritance tax planning, and the details of Mr. Bettencourt’s trusts, and we’re finally wrapping up.
Thankfully, no one has cried, but his brother did seem a little perturbed when he found out he wouldn’t be receiving the same inheritance sum as Mr. Bettencourt’s children. I was surprised Hugh even wanted to pass any of his assets to his brother—that’s usually reserved for descendants—but apparently, they were very close, and a portion was promised to him.
After I answer their last few questions and pack up my files, Mrs. Bettencourt escorts me out to the covered front porch.
“Do you have a ride, dear?” She peers out at the circular drive, where her children and brother-in-law are already pulling away. “I didn’t see you come with a car.”
“Oh, my mother is picking me up. My car is being detailed.” I smile at her. “The salt and snow really got to it this year.”
She nods. “I begged Hugh for years to move us south. I grew up in Georgia, and I can’t stand the cold.” She purses her lips and grins. “I think maybe I’ll finally make the move.”
I offer her a heartfelt expression. “I think this is the perfect time to focus on yourself. Go bask in those warm rays.”
She pats me on the back and chuckles. “Thank you for your time, Rose. I’m afraid I have a meeting with the funeral director next. We’re trying to figure out who to hire to cater the funeral reception. Hugh was such a fan of bar food, he begged me to provide burgers and beers for our guests instead of finger sandwiches and sweet tea.” She rolls her eyes. “I tried to protest, but he wouldn’t budge. I can’t let him down now.”
She starts to descend the porch steps, but I bite my lip and speak up. I know who serves the best burgers. “How far are you from Silver Creek out here?”
She stops and raises her fingers to her chin. “Silver Creek…I think less than thirty minutes.”
I step forward. “There’s an amazing burger place right there in town. Really, like the best burgers I’ve ever had. And I know the owner. I bet he would be absolutely thrilled to cater the reception.”
She tilts her head. “There will be at least two hundred there. Can he handle that volume?”
“He’s got an army of helpers,” I reply confidently. Honestly, I have no idea if Rod can handle so many, but I know for a fact that he has a community of people who want him to succeed, and I’m pretty sure I’ve just signed myself up.
She lifts her chin and studies me. “The best burgers?”
I grin. “Greasy and delicious and right up your husband’s alley I’m sure.”
She nods and pulls out her phone. “What’s the place called?”
“ Nelson’s Bar and Grill .”
“Got it.” She taps her screen. “I’ll give them a call.” Then she continues down the steps. “Ok, I really have to get going, but feel free to wait on the porch for your mother.”
I take a seat on an oversized porch swing and wave. “Thank you, Mrs. Bettencourt.”
She reaches the ground and makes her way to the final car in the driveway, and then she pulls away, leaving me alone. The swing creaks slightly beneath me and a soft breeze tousles the few strands of my hair that have escaped the tight bun I’ve pulled it into. There are some dark clouds in the distance, but the sky above is perfectly blue. This house is set on at least ten acres, and the lot is surrounded by mature trees so thick you can’t see any neighbors. It feels like an expansive cocoon. Cozy and spacious all at once. Other than the sound of the swing, it’s completely silent, and I close my eyes for a moment, lost in a peace I rarely experience.
Except, I do when I’m with Nate. Neither his house nor his cabin sits on this much land, but there’s a similar calm when I’m there with him. The constant hum of city cars and whir of sirens is absent. When I look out my window at home, I see the facade of another building just directly across the street. It never felt claustrophobic before. But now that I’ve spent so many nights with Nate, I’ve begun to hate the ones I stay at home. My apartment feels stale, cold, and soulless, like a box with a bed. Nate’s place feels like a home .
This morning, Nate is with Kara at a follow-up appointment for her concussion last month. She’s been having some ringing in her ears, so they’re making sure there isn’t additional damage they missed.
Nate wouldn’t admit it, but I can tell he’s been really anxious about this appointment all week. He loves Kara so much, I don’t think he could bear the thought of a permanent injury. He offered to drop me off for my meeting on his way to her appointment, but I stayed at my place last night, and I wasn’t going to have him drive all the way into the city to pick me up, only to drive me back out here. My mom was more than willing to help.
And I think I know why. She pestered me with questions about Nate the whole drive. I told her about his marriage, but not about Kara. She quieted down a little once I told her his wife died, but she reacted positively to everything else. I have a feeling it was probably because she doesn’t think we’ll last anyway.
I look at my phone. It’s fifteen minutes past when she said she’d be here to get me, and I’m about to text her when a black BMW emerges from the trees and pulls up the driveway. It’s a vehicle I am unfortunately familiar with.
I furrow my brow.
What is he doing here?
The car comes to a stop, Malcolm steps out and slides his sunglasses onto his head, and then he pushes the cuffs of his tailored shirt up his forearms.
“Need a ride, gorgeous?” He winks at me like he thinks I’ll find it enticing.
I don’t even stand up. “What are you doing here?”
He climbs the steps and comes to a stop next to a large, white column. He leans against it casually and crosses his arms. “Your mom got caught up in a meeting. I was on my way back from St. Cloud, so she asked me to grab you on my way.”
It’s a struggle not to roll my eyes. There’s no way that’s the truth. I pull out my phone again and navigate to the Uber app. “It’s fine. You go ahead. I’ll call a ride.”
Malcolm laughs. “I came out of my way to get you. No reason to make this a wasted trip. I’ll take you home.”
I enter my address and wait for the system to find drivers while I picture a scenario where I’m forced to spend forty-five minutes alone in the car with him, especially when he’s an awful driver to begin with. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not riding with you.”
Ignoring me, he peers up at the brick estate and sighs. “Nice place. Wonder why they built it out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Because it’s peaceful,” I murmur as I discover that the nearest driver is almost an hour away.
“It’s too quiet.” Malcolm shudders. “And imagine the bugs out here. Mosquito heaven.”
I bite my lip and weigh my options. The rest of my family is just as far away as the Uber, Junie is out of town, and Nate is in the middle of Kara’s appointment. For all I know, he’s getting some tense news, and I promised myself I wouldn’t bother him.
Malcolm is going to continue to beg me to ride with him, so I can either listen to that for the next hour or just bite the bullet and get in his car. I’m stuck with him either way.
When I peer up at him, he’s picking at a bit of lint on his shirt. He lifts his eyes to mine and raises a brow. “Does Uber even come out this far?”
I study him for a long moment. Just a quick ride into the city. A quick forty-five-minute ride. It’s not going to be easy to explain this to Nate, but it’s starting to seem like the best option.
“Fine,” I say quickly as I stand and make my way to the stairs.
Malcolm follows in my wake. “Surprised you didn’t call that boyfriend of yours. Is that already over?”
I shake my head and walk quickly toward the car. “He’s busy today, otherwise I’d have called him the instant you walked up those steps.”
“Too busy to help out his girlfriend?” He speeds up to open my door for me.
I slide in and wait for him to get in the driver’s side. “He had to take his daughter to a medical appointment.”
“He has a kid?” Malcolm asks incredulously, watching me with true surprise. “Jeez, be careful, Rose.”
“From a previous marriage,” I clarify. “His wife died.”
“Shit.” Malcolm starts the engine and sits back.
I don’t know why I’m telling him all this. I guess I’m just tired of keeping secrets. I’ve reached my limit, and it’s all spilling out.
“How old’s the kid?” he asks.
“She’s seven. Let’s go.” I point out the windshield.
He slowly pulls around the driveway and back toward the road. “He’s probably taking you for a test run to see if you can fill that vacant mom role.”
I lean back and shake my head. “Yes, he’s specifically dating me for my maternal skills.”
Malcolm snorts. “Yeah, because you’ve got those in spades.”
I furrow my brow. “You don’t think I’d be a good mother?”
He speeds up onto the mostly vacant two-lane highway as drops of rain start to pepper the windshield. “Sure, with a little help, you’d be great.” He peers sideways at my offended expression. “What? You had…what’s her name…Helene? She practically raised you, didn’t she? Doubt your mom could have done it on her own.”
“Excuse me?” I sit up taller.
“Rose, you have the money to hire help. And you’ll have even more if you marry me. Don’t waste time worrying about diapers and discipline. Leave it to the professionals. You’re not cut out to handle it all.”
“Stop the car,” I say through gritted teeth.
Malcolm laughs, speeding up instead. “I’m not stopping the car in the middle of nowhere.” The rain increases and he flicks on his wipers.
“I don’t care, I’ll call someone else to pick me up.”
He sighs as we come up on the tail of a slow-moving van. “I’m sorry, ok? You’ll be a great mom.”
It’s my turn to laugh as I roll my eyes. But I don’t think he’s funny. Not one bit.
He glares at the van. “But be the mom to your own kid. Don’t subject yourself to someone else’s. She’s his problem. Not yours.”
I cross my arms as he swerves a little to the left to see around the van. “How about we just don’t talk for the rest of the drive?”
He ignores me, sliding back into his own lane as a car approaches in the opposite direction. “I heard your family’s heading back up to Berkshire’s for the wedding this weekend.”
I don’t say anything. I simply hope and pray he can’t go.
“I’d be there, but I have a conference in St. Louis,” he sighs.
Thank God.
“You bringing your lover boy?”
“It’s none of your business.” I check my phone. We’ve only been driving for ten minutes, yet it feels like an hour. It’s raining hard now, and that’s only going to slow us down.
“Does your mom know he has a kid?” He closes in on the van again and grumbles under his breath. “ C’mon, man …”
“Also none of your business,” I sigh as he swerves to the left again, peering up the road. “It’s a double yellow,” I say as I grip my seat. “Just be patient.”
“I don’t have the time for that,” Malcolm says as he floors it and speeds into the left lane to pass the van. The jolt sends my heart into my throat and I squint my eyes and grit my teeth, hoping he’s going to pass it with ease. But then the road ahead of us slides out of view and we’re hydroplaning.
He slams on the brakes and we slide in the other direction, skidding toward the overgrown field next to the road. It all happens so fast, and all I can do is shriek as we careen across the pavement. Then there’s a loud pop and the car jerks violently to the left, slowing down rapidly until we come to a stop in the left lane.
“Shit.” Malcolm grips the wheel tightly and guides the car onto the right shoulder. “I’ve got a flat.”
My heart slows and I drop my head back to the seat again. “Oh my God, what were you thinking? You could have—”
“We’re fine , Rose.” He rolls his eyes like we didn’t just almost die.
Again.
I grip my chest and catch my breath as he grumbles, climbing out to check the damage while he holds his phone to his ear.
Seriously, this is the worst.
I run my hand down my face and watch in annoyance from inside the car as he glares at the tire and speaks into his phone.
When he climbs back in, he says, “My guy, Craig, is out of town, but he knows a guy who’s like five minutes away who can come change it.”
I eye him with distaste. “You don’t know how to change a tire?”
He raises a brow. “Do you know how to change a tire?”
“No, but I’m a woman. I’m expected to not know these things.”
Malcolm laughs and settles into his seat, resting an arm lazily over the steering wheel. “If you think I’m getting down on the ground to wrestle that grimy thing off, you’re insane.”
I just look away.
“So, what do you see in him, anyway?” he asks.
Without looking at him, I respond. “Well, for one thing, I’m confident he knows how to change a tire.”
“Great, that’ll pay the bills,” Malcolm replies dryly.
“It’d get me out of this mess…” I mutter under my breath.
“How’d you meet?” he asks.
“I’m done talking about this,” I reply firmly.
He’s quiet for a moment, and I bask in the silence I’ve been asking for all along. But it’s short-lived.
“I miss you.” His voice oozes sadness I don’t buy.
Here we go again.
“I’m not the same person I was when I was with you, Malcolm,” I reply without looking at him. “You miss who I was . But that girl is gone.”
“That’s ok,” he says quickly. “I can learn to love the new you. Whoever that is.”
I shake my head at the empty field outside my window. He’s so desperate and pitiful, I can hardly believe I ever saw something in him. “You can’t give me what I need. Not anymore.”
His voice grows gentle. “Tell me. Tell me what you need.” Then I feel the warmth of his hand on my thigh.
My heart drops and I turn to reprimand him, but at the same time, there’s a tap on his window. We both peer up to see a man outside. Malcolm rolls down the glass, and my heart slides into my throat when I realize who it is.
“Craig said you needed some help?” Nate peers in at Malcolm as rain pelts his forehead. “Do you have a spare?”
Malcolm, whose hand is still on my thigh, smiles and shrugs. “No idea actually. I’ll pop the trunk and you can look.”
Nate nods and starts to turn, but just as he does, his eyes meet mine. And then they fall to Malcolm’s hand.
I shove it away quickly.
“Rose?” he asks in disbelief.
I run my hand shakily through my hair and start to sweat. “My mom was supposed to pick me up, but she sent him. Uber was an hour away. I…”
“You know each other?” Malcolm interjects. He extends his hand out the window to Nate, whose mouth hangs slightly ajar. “I’m Malcolm, by the way.”
Nate’s gaze flicks to Malcolm for just a second, and then back to me. The pain in his eyes cuts through my soul, and I immediately regret every decision I’ve made today. He ignores Malcolm’s hand and steps back. “Right, we’ve met.” He lowers his gaze to the tire and raises his brows. “The tire’s completely shredded.”
Malcolm sits back and shrugs. “Yeah, I don't know how that happened.”
Nate meets his gaze again. “No way this happened at the speed limit.”
With a laugh, Malcolm shakes his head. “Nah, I think I pushed close to ninety passing some slow douchebag back there. Caught a slippery spot and skidded for a bit, but I just steered ‘er out. Must have nicked something on the shoulder, but I needed new tires anyway.”
The look on Nate’s face is so cold I think the drizzle may turn to snow around us. His eyes meet mine for just a moment before he gestures toward the tire again. “You destroyed your rim too. It’ll drive, but—”
“What?!” Malcolm quickly pushes the door open and climbs out to assess the damage with a scowl. “Shit.” He sighs and pulls his coat over his head as he follows Nate toward the trunk. “Wait, you’re the guy who fixed Rose’s ceiling, aren’t you?”
“That’s me,” I can hear Nate reply. His tone is so clipped and bitter, I’m sure I’ve dug myself into a hole much too big.
I clamber out of my own side, ignoring the rain, and coming around the back of the car as Nate pulls the spare tire out. “Really, I was just getting a ride,” I plead. “I couldn’t tell him no.”
Nate stills and lifts his harsh eyes to mine. “Really?”
“I would have called you, but you were at the appointment with Kara and I didn’t want you to stress when you should be listening to the doctors.”
“Wait.” Malcolm shuts his trunk and glances back and forth between us. “ This is the guy you’re seeing?”
“ That’s me ,” Nate repeats his earlier line, but this time with even more sarcasm as he heads back toward the tire with the jack.
“Nate, please…” I try to follow him, but he pushes his hand out abruptly to stop me.
“Stay away from the road,” he growls as a car speeds past much too closely.
My stomach leaps and I step back quickly. I glance down the road and catch sight of his truck parked behind us. I don’t know how I didn’t see him pull up. I can just barely make out the top of Kara’s head in the backseat.
“Please, let me explain,” I try again, wiping damp strands of hair from my forehead and stepping forward to the back corner of the bumper as more cars fly past.
“Seriously.” Nate raises his voice and points toward the empty field. “Get back. Please. ” The last word comes out hoarse, and I comply, retreating away from the road.
I stop in the grass just before the field and watch cars and trucks shoot past, going at least fifty, much too close to Nate, who’s crouched down and out of sight on the other side of Malcolm’s BMW.
As the rain slows to a faint drizzle, I run my hand through my hair again and glance at the truck. Kara has spotted me and is waving frantically out the window. He probably told her to stay put, but she’s trying desperately to catch my attention, so I muster up a smile and give her a small wave.
Malcolm comes to stand next to me and crosses his arms as we both watch the road. “You’re dating the handyman?”
I close my eyes and shake my head. “He’s the building manager.”
“And your parents are ok with this?” he asks.
“Please, just shut up , Malcolm,” I plead. “You’ve done enough today. Please just stop talking.”
“What? Because I gave you a ride home, he’s gonna get all jealous? That’s his problem.”
“You had your hand on my thigh!” I hiss at him. “I’ve told you a thousand times now, we’re done . Yet you keep pushing.” I pause and eye him sharply. “It’s getting creepy. So, knock it off.”
He looks slightly taken aback for a moment like he didn’t realize he’d gone too far, but he quickly plasters annoyance on his face. “Fine, whatever, Rose. I’m done trying. But don’t come crawling back when the novelty wears off and the handyman doesn’t do it for you anymore.”
“Great, now leave me alone.” I take a step away from him.
We both stand in silence for a few more minutes before Nate rises and loads the flat tire into the trunk.
Malcolm moves toward him and pulls out his wallet. “What do I owe you?” he grumbles.
Nate waves him off. “No idea. I’m just doing a favor for Craig. Check with him.” He glances at me with tired eyes. “You two should be good to go now.”
Oh, he’s delusional if he thinks I’m riding home with Malcolm after this.
“Can you take me home?” I ask carefully.
His jaw tightens. “You already have a ride, and I need to get Kara home .”
I hold his gaze. “I’m not going with him. Can we please talk about this?”
Malcolm, who is apparently too bored to hear any more, grabs my bag from the passenger seat, sets it on the wet ground, and then climbs into the driver’s side. He starts the engine and pulls away without a word.
Nate sighs and turns to his truck. “Get in.”