Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
“Okay, well, perhaps we should exchange numbers so we can keep one another updated on everything?”
“Therese’s desk is just outside. You can take her number and give her yours. Whatever you need to inform me of, she’ll make sure I hear it.”
Again, so cold and dismissive. I tried not to be affronted that he clearly wanted nothing more to do with me. The fact that he was prepared to repatriate the bodies was enough of a weight off my shoulders, though. I didn’t need him to like me.
“Okay. I’ll get out of your hair, then,” I said, wincing when I pushed up from the chair to stand. It was going to take at least two days of rest for the pain in my leg to subside, and those were two days I didn’t have. There was far too much to be done. Jonathan must’ve seen my pained expression because something like concern broke through his cold façade for a second.
“Miss Rose, are you all right?”
I held up my hand. “I’m quite fine,” I said, though the strain in my voice was evident. “And again, I’m sorry we’re meeting under such awful circumstances.”
Jonathan nodded but said nothing as I endeavoured not to limp my way out of his office. Shutting the double doors behind me, I exhaled a heavy breath then searched for this Therese person. A middle-aged woman with short brown hair sat at a desk nearby that had been empty when I’d arrived. She glanced up as I approached.
“You’re Therese?” I asked.
She nodded and gave a kind smile. “Yes, how can I help you, dear?”
“Mr Oaks told me to provide you with my number and to get yours. There’s some information I’m going to be forwarding him in the coming days.”
“Of course.”
After exchanging numbers with Therese, I made my way back to the stairwell. This time, I needed to use my cane. My leg was going to be no good for the rest of the day. It was a good thing my right leg was fine, allowing me to drive an automatic. My little Toyota Yaris was a Godsend for getting about.
I was one flight down when the woman I’d seen talking to the repair man about the broken lift appeared. She wore casual clothes, and a set of keys hung at her hip, so I presumed she was some sort of building maintenance person.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed, seeing my struggle. “The elevator is out, and I’ve had a nightmare getting someone to come and repair it today.”
“It’s okay. These things happen,” I told her with a tight smile. I hated being a nuisance.
“Here, take my arm. Let me help you,” she went on.
Normally, I’d politely decline because I was a little sensitive about needing help from strangers, but this woman seemed nice, and somehow her offer of help didn’t have me bristling like it normally would. Maybe I was just so exhausted that I didn’t have it in me to bristle anymore.
I made it to the bottom of the stairs much more easily with her help and thanked her as I left the stairwell.
“You take care now,” she said as I left and walked outside to where I’d parked my car. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I let my head fall back against the headrest while I rubbed my knee. I really needed to try and get some sleep. I’d called in to work letting them know I had a family bereavement and would be out for several days. My administrative assistant, Rina, knew most of my job and could fill in for me while I was gone. Well, at least now Jonathan had been informed, and all I needed to do was focus on the funeral. Maybe after that I would finally have time to grieve.
Starting the engine, I began the journey home. Home to a house that was now far too big and empty without the two people who’d been the heart of the place.
2.
Jonathan
I’d never felt pain like this. As I sat at my desk watching Conor Rose’s daughter leave my office, agony sliced down my middle. My mother was dead. Everything inside me refused to believe it, yet I knew it was true. This was my punishment for being so stubborn and unforgiving, for pushing her out of my life, and now I’d never get the chance to tell her how much I loved her, despite everything.
If this was what hell felt like, people were right to fear it.
My office doors opened, and my assistant, Therese, stepped in. “Sir, you mentioned you had a task for me?”
I stared at her, feeling like I wasn’t inside my body. Then I blinked and cleared my throat, my voice deceptively devoid of emotion when I responded stoically, “My mother has passed away, and some arrangements need to be made.”