Keep Her (2 page)

That night, after giving my brother a similar speech of his own, whispering her secret recipe for meatballs in Beck’s ear, and kissing my Dad with her last bit of strength, my mother passed.

The moment was absolutely surreal. In all the time I had prepared myself, I imagined crying and screaming and sobbing like there was no tomorrow. But after years of chemo and operations and months of painful suffering, the most amazing sense of relief washed over me as I watched my mother close her eyes and take her last peaceful breath.

The world was losing a remarkable woman, and heaven—God, I was so damn envious of heaven in that moment—was gaining an incredible angel. Our lives would never be the same without her. The healing process would take a lifetime, if I ever actually healed at all. But I had to do what my mother wanted most for me. After I mourned and grieved until I thought I’d break in two. After I got things in order and took care of my crumpled family so we felt whole again. After I screamed and cursed for hating the world and then learned to love it again for all its miracles, I had to keep her memory alive and just… live.

“Fallon, put down the damn tabloid and check my phone to see who just texted me. I’m waiting for a decision from Mrs. Ashworth about the wallpaper swatches we sent over earlier today.”

My assistant/bestie ran his hand though his recently coiffed bro-hawk, gaping at John Travolta’s alien baby. I snatched the rag mag out of his hands, threw it across the room, and reached for my phone.

“What?” Fallon rolled his pretty green eyes. “I know it’s bullshit, but at least it’s entertaining. You’re as boring as watching paint dry, Miss Interior Designer Extraordinaire… all work, no play.”

Oh, what did he know anyway? His idea of fun was prowling happy hour at Lucky Cheng’s with the rest of his gorgeous-but-gay friends. Okay, even I had to admit that the last few times I tagged along I had a blast,
but
hanging out with Fallon and his “buds” on a regular basis wasn’t going to help me end my dry spell.

I retrieved the incoming text and couldn’t believe the irony. Fallon and Lucky Cheng’s might keep things dry, but an invitation to that new bar on Fifth with Marcus, Beck, and Tessa—that sounded promising. Even if it did mean being kind of a third wheel. As much as they denied it, something was going on with Marcus and Tessa lately, and Beck… he was unavailable and dating that ice queen. I’d have to drag Tessa away from her infatuation with my little brother and make her my wing woman.

I texted the group back, letting them know I was in for tonight and a smile spread across my face—a hopeful one. I could use a night out, even if it didn’t end up with a hook-up. In fact, I vowed to myself that tonight I would
not
entertain that random, sloppy, I’m-never-gonna-see-you-again kiss. I was in the mood to dance and have fun and forget this week of annoying clients and underqualified assistants. “Ha! I’m going out dancing tonight.” I stuck my tongue out at Fallon and skipped across the office to pick the tabloid up off the floor. Returning the magazine to Fallon, who was staring at me unimpressed, I gloated, “You can resume your, uh, intellectual reading now while I decide on something to wear. God, do I need this night out.”

“You’re telling me,” he whispered, snickering.

Planting my hand on my hip, I tilted my head. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Riley, you’re skipping around the office like a happy moron over going to a bar. I mean,
I
would be skipping just to be in the same room as that hot piece of man candy that is your little brother, but… most single people our age do this a few nights a week. Not once every four months.”

Every four months? I had a date only a few weeks ago, albeit a lame one. But still, that counted as going out. Instead of sulking and whining about my lack of a social life, I chose to come back with my go-to excuse. Work. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Party Animal, but I actually have a career… a flourishing one at that. I don’t have time to go out and get trashed and canoodle with drag queens four nights a week.”

“Hey, leave the queens out of this, missy. Listen,” Fallon said, cocking an eyebrow as he stood and walked toward me. He placed a perfectly manicured hand at my shoulder and squeezed me against his small but muscular frame. “I’ve worked with you side-by-side, day in and day out, for the last two years. You are one bad-ass career woman who knows her color wheel and accent pillows, but… I also know you’re lonely.”

“I am not lonely,” I insisted, pushing away from him. Okay, that was a lie, but I didn’t need Fallon—the guy who had a random meaningless roll in the hay at least twice a week—as my life coach. “Tessa’s back, and I have Dad and Marcus and…”

“And me. You have me too, love, but you don’t have anyone to call your own and I
know
you want that. We’re not enough and—newsflash, lady—that’s okay! You deserve your knight in shining armor and everything that comes after it. I’ve heard you all goo goo, ga ga over Tessa’s son. You want that—you want what all the good girls want, Ry. Marriage, kids, the picket fence. It’s okay to admit it.”

I did want all that. Everyone who knew me for more than five minutes knew that, but right now it just wasn’t in my cards. I’d gone on blind dates set up by mutual friends, tried the internet thing, even gave a few exes a second shot—none of them measured up to my expectations. Well, I shouldn’t say expectations. It was more of this need to feel like my mom would’ve liked the guy. None of them seemed mom-approved. Yet.

“I don’t want to talk about my shitty love life, Fallon.” It was easier to brush him off than to have this conversation
again.
“Why don’t you come with tonight? You can drool over my brother. Maybe distract him from Tessa for a bit. I need to ravage the dance floor with my old partner in crime.”

“As much as I’d like to ravish the dance floor
and
your brother, I have plans tonight,” he said with wild, unruly, dancing brows.

“Cheng’s
again
?”

“We don’t only hang at Cheng’s, you close-minded freak. Every once in a while I do have a subdued romantic evening with one of my gentleman callers.”

“Well, your loss then. You would’ve fit in perfectly with me and Tess. You’ll have to come along next time.” I sat back down at my desk, pulling up my emails. It was only one o’clock in the afternoon and dancing the night away seemed like a lifetime in the future. “Now, seriously, Fal… go do some work before I have to fire yo’ ass.”

“Marissa, let me go. My texts are buzzing non-stop. There’s nothing to talk about anyway. You already made your decision.”

She’d made her decision two days ago and shocked the shit out of me. I understood how important passing the bar was to her, but I also thought after two years together, I was important too. This dead-end phone conversation had me replaying
that
one over again in my head.

“Baby, I’ve been thinking,” I finally blurted out. I’d wanted this for a long time, but was too chicken shit to admit it. Marissa had me thinking things men my age shouldn’t think about… like getting hitched, having babies, growing old together. I was in deep with this girl and wasn’t too afraid to admit it.

“And what exactly is it you’ve been thinking about, Beck? Does it include you, me and a weekend away?—because Lord knows we could use that after all the studying I’ve been doing for this god-awful exam. Just a bit longer and we’ll be back to normal.”

Without hesitation, I manned-up and spit it out. “Move in with me.” There, I said it. There was no turning back now. She was looking forward to a weekend away, but what I was offering was even better—waking up together every single morning. She was sure to say yes.

“Um…”

So not what I was expecting. That two-letter word nearly had me dropping the phone. Shit, maybe I shouldn’t have done this over the phone. What an eager asshole. I should have done this on a romantic date. What the hell was I thinking? “Baby, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just blurted it out like that. I should’ve planned this better. Let me take you out tonight so we can talk about it over lobster—your favorite.”

“No, Beck, it’s not that, it’s just…”

The hesitation in her voice had me on edge for the second time since I laid my heart on the line. Why the fuck was I sensing a problem? “Ris, did you not hear me? I’m asking you to move in with me. I think we should take this to the next step. Doesn’t that make you happy?”

The silence on the other end didn’t make
me
happy. When she finally said something, it wasn’t exactly what I was anticipating. “Beck, baby. I’ve been a nervous wreck studying for this exam. Things are just so… I don’t know…
haphazard
right now. Don’t get me wrong, I love you, baby. I love you so much, but—”

“But the fuck what? You know what forget it, Ris. Forget I said anything. You’re obviously too involved in your own shit to worry about what happens next with the two of us.” My pride was burned. Maybe it was my own insecurities biting me in the ass, but here I was giving her my whole heart, and she was consumed by her career, yet again. I know I sounded like a whiny brat, and I literally had to check inside my pants to make sure I still had a dick, but I felt wounded by her rejection. Still, it was no excuse to lash out at her for working hard at her dreams.

Forcing myself to calm down and see things from her side, I took a different approach. “Babe, it’s my bad. I know you’re stressed and I shouldn’t have mentioned it right now. I just thought that since we’ve hardly seen each other, this would solve our problem. You could study, and even if you were locked away with your books all day, knowing we’d be sharing the same bed together every night—”

“Beck, we need a break.”

Two nights ago, those words shattered my dreams and now here she was trying, yet again, to make me see that it was bar over Beck.

“You’re not being fair. You won’t give me a chance to explain. You don’t understand the pressure I’m under right now. You get mad when I can’t come over because I’m studying. I feel strangled at all ends right now. I don’t think you get how much is riding on this one test, Beck. I love you, I really do, but this is my career we’re talking about. My life.”

Strangled?
Studying was putting her through the wringer, but what did being strangled at all ends have to do with it? And wow, her
career
was her life, but now that I wanted to move in together and make her a permanent part of
my
life, she was changing the game. For whatever reason, she thought I couldn’t take her law school endeavors seriously. Maybe because to her I was just some lowly blue collar worker. Yeah, my aspirations weren’t as high as hers, but I risked my life as FDNY every day and I wasn’t about to defend myself to her for the millionth time.