Leah had to admit that the idea of watching her mother struggle to find something edible in this casual burger joint would be more entertaining than the meal. She almost considered sparing her mother this kind of torture, but her need for comfort good outweighed her guilt. Besides, it might be good for Francesca to let loose for once and indulge in something sinfully delicious.
Two minutes before noon, Francesca strolled into Leah’s office looking as stunning as ever with her long sable hair flowing freely down her back—a stark contrast to her full-length tailored white cashmere coat and matching gloves. She looked like royalty, and for a moment Leah felt the urge to bow.
Everyone seemed to notice Francesca as if the world stilled as she graced it with her presence. She commanded attention—not that she necessarily wanted it—her cold beauty entrancing men and women alike.
Leah sighed as she signaled her mother to her cubicle. She thought she’d overcome her insecurity, but seeing her mother look so perfect she once again felt like a withering dandelion while her mother was a freshly bloomed orchid.
As a child she used to wish that she had inherited her mother’s grace and natural elegance, but instead she grew up a gangly teenager whose body hadn’t developed until she turned fifteen—and even then she was no match for her mother.
She used to sneak into her mother’s room and wear her makeup and clothes, but she could never recreate her mother’s flawless image. Image was everything to Francesca, and she worked hard to maintain that look and live the lifestyle of one in her upper-class station. It was almost an obsession with her and it impacted everything decision she made. She would never do anything to jeopardize her lifestyle.
Leah had always felt like a poor substitute compared to her mother, and because of that she resented her. It took a while for Leah to admit that to herself but she knew it was unfair to blame her mother entirely for the wall that had erected between them. Leah had pushed her mother away, and her mother had never fought to be a part of her life until now.
Had they talked more instead of that companionable silence, they might have avoided years of unnecessary pain for both of them. There was no doubt in Leah’s mind that her mother had missed being a part of her daughter’s life just as much as she missed her mother. Neither was mature enough to admit it until that one day in November when Francesca showed up at her daughter’s home and finally bridged the gap between them.
“Leah.” Francesca paused in front of her daughter. Her eyes gleamed as she greeted Leah.
Leah wanted to hug her mother, but her mother still was not comfortable with all that touchy-feely emotional stuff. She was naturally quite aloof and she kept her emotions well hidden. That aspect of her demeanor was likely never to change. Leah had learned to accept it, although she wanted to better understand her mother’s resistance to love and affection. It’s as if she feared surrendering herself to her feelings. She locked them away in a vault and buried the key where no one could find it. Leah refused to give up trying.
Leah certainly did not inherit her mother’s emotional withdrawal. Her feelings were an open book visible in every expression, every word she uttered. Although she tried to be as detached as her mother at times, she could never maintain a mask of indifference for long and, deep down, she didn’t want to be so withdrawn. Leah wanted to feel. Good or bad, she needed to feel something.
“Thanks for coming, Mom. Well, here’s where I work.” She waved her arms around, showing her small, but comfortable cubicle. She loved her space and the people around her. She felt at home there, especially considering how lonely her apartment felt.
Francesca smiled in that insincere manner that Leah recognized immediately. “It’s very lovely.”
Her mother was very much a work in progress, but she was trying. Leah just had to remind herself of that often so as not to lose her temper. The ice queen would not melt that quickly.
“I like it here a lot. It’s comfortable and I enjoy my colleagues. They are very supportive of me.”
“That’s wonderful, dear. I’m glad you have something like this in your life that you enjoy.” Francesca sounded so pensive in that moment. Leah wanted to probe further, but her attention was focused on the loud laugh from the man strolling out of Marcus’ office.
It was Grant Deverson. As usual, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world while Marcus, who stood behind him, looked like he was contemplating strangling the man. Leah knew deep down that Marcus had the utmost respect for Deverson and the feeling was no doubt mutual. Marcus might harbor the occasional murderous thought about Deverson but, at the end of the day, he respected him and often complimented him on his business savvy and determination. For Deverson to accomplish so much considering how low he had sunk, thanks to his addiction, was admirable. This mercurial man had earned their respect and Leah, in particular, would forever be grateful for the help he generously offered Alex.
Deverson turned to the direction of Leah and his smile faded into something much more serious, more intense. Leah studied the man and realized that he wasn’t staring at her, but at her mother. Her mother seemed to be oblivious as she continued to look around Leah’s cubicle as if trying to find something to like about the small space.
Deverson headed to her direction as if he were a man on a mission. His eyes fixed on to Francesca, ignoring everything else in the room, including the employees who were shirking away from the presence of the boss. Despite his flamboyance in his personal life, he could be ruthless when it came to business and to cross him would be a financial mistake that one would be wise never to make.
He stopped next to Francesca, catching her by surprise as she whipped around to see who had intruded upon her personal space.
“Can I help you?” she asked politely, but there was a not-so-subtle hint of annoyance in her voice. She took a step back from Deverson’s piercing gaze. She seemed almost rattled by his attention, but Leah knew her stoic mother would never be affected by anyone, including someone as unpredictable as Deverson.
After a long moment, Deverson held out his hand to her. “I am Grant Deverson.”
Francesca stared at his hand as if debating with herself whether she should touch him. Reluctantly she placed her hand in his. Just for a moment, Leah saw her mother’s disinterested gaze soften briefly before she tried to remove her hand, but Deverson did not let go and firmly held on to Francesca.
“Mom, Mr. Deverson is the owner of the
Village Gazette.
Mr. Deverson, this is my mother Francesca Rhodes.”
“Francesca,” he repeated, emphasizing each syllable. No hint of the fake French accent. “A beautiful name for a remarkably beautiful woman.”
“Thank you,” Francesca responded stiffly, looking away from Deverson’s probing eyes. She tried to pull her hand away again but he held on. “Can I have my hand back now?” Francesca glared at Deverson with her frosty eyes, the color of the deepest jade.
That look would cause most men to shudder, but Deverson ignored her contemptuous gaze and beamed at her as his thumb lightly stroked her hand. “Ask me again in a few minutes.”
Francesca tugged harder and this time he let go. A scowling Francesca turned to her daughter. “I think it’s time we go.”
Francesca was clearly uncomfortable. Leah was so stunned to see her unflappable mother look so flustered.
“Where are you headed?” Deverson asked, as if he was unaware of the tension he deliberately caused.
“I don’t believe it’s any of your business, but I am taking my daughter to lunch.” Francesca refused to make eye contact with him, but that did not stop him from staring at her.
“Are you going to invite me? It’s kind of rude not to.”
“Unfortunately for you, I specialize in rude.”
“Unfortunately for you, my healthy ego can take a fair amount of rejection.”
“With your personality no doubt you are used to it,” Francesca bit back. With her ire fueling her, her mask was back in place as she faced this aggravating stranger.
Leah watched this exchange with a combination of awe and horror. Deverson seemed to be amusing himself, but she wasn’t sure if her mother wanted to kill the man or continue the banter. Either way, this was her boss and her mother and the last thing she needed was drama between them that could impact her job. She knew her mother had the potential to be quite lethal with her words. If Deverson continued to taunt her, her mother would likely cut him with her sharp tongue. Leah did not want Deverson to get hurt, but she also didn’t want to lose her job, as she couldn’t afford to be unemployed with a baby due in a few weeks.
It was time to defuse the situation before things got out of hand. “Mom, we should get going. Just let me get my coat on.”
“Maybe I can take you both out to lunch?” Deverson offered.
“That won’t be necessary,” Francesca chimed in with her voice so sharp she could have sliced Deverson into pieces.
“Do you only do what’s necessary, or do you ever take the stick out of your ass long enough to do something fun?”
Leah gasped. No one ever spoke to her mother like that and if looks could kill, Deverson would be at the morgue.
Surprisingly, Leah also noticed another look in her mother’s eyes. Could part of her be enjoying this after all? She was like a predator who had found prey, and Leah knew she would eat this man alive.
“Sometimes a stick in the ass is quite fun. You would know, wouldn’t you?”
“Mother!” Leah yelled, appalled at her mother’s retort. Her mother never spoke like this. She was cruel, but not crude. Who was this stranger? It was like Deverson was bringing out the worst in her.
How could she say such a thing to him? Leah deeply regretted ever mentioning her boss to her mother. She told her about Deverson’s seemingly open sexual lifestyle, but she never expected her mother would throw those words back in his face. Deverson clearly didn’t expect it either, as he glanced at Leah briefly before turning back to Francesca with a glint in his eyes. Rather than being angry, he looked intrigued.
“You’re right. I would know and if you like I could educate you as well.”
Leah opened her mouth, shut it, and opened it again before finally closing it, unable to think of anything to say at that moment. Deverson was openly flirting with her mother, who was being ruder than even Leah thought possible.
“My
husband
,” she emphasized, “is the only man I need to tutor me.”
“Well, dear, considering how uptight you are I have to say your husband should have his teaching license revoked. If you ever want to learn from someone who can teach you properly, give me a call.” He grabbed a business card from his pocket and stuck it in Francesca’s coat. She jumped but did not push him away. “For the record, I’m not sure what you heard about me, but just to be clear, I appreciate all things that are beautiful and I could definitely appreciate you. I think you need to be appreciated.”
Leah watched her normally impassive mother blush ever so slightly before she took a step back and turned to her daughter. “I have to use the restroom. I will wait for you in the lobby.” Leah numbly pointed to the direction of the ladies’ room and Francesca strode away.
“It was a pleasure meeting you,” Deverson yelled across the hall to Francesca’s back as she rushed towards the bathroom without looking back.
Deverson turned to Leah, who was looking at him with big, confused eyes. “You worry too much, kid. At least now I can see where you get your pit bull side from, although I have to say your mother is more of a rabid tiger in need of taming. She certainly has claws, but I like claws.”
“Are you insane? What was that about? You were flirting with my mother. Is this some kind of game or are you serious? Please tell me it was just a game.” For Leah, this had to be a game because if Deverson was serious, the implications were too much for her to fathom. He was no match for her mother.
“I admit that was a bit inappropriate, but I couldn’t help myself. She’s fascinating. Such a prickly bitch, but there’s a lot of layers to Ms. Francesca Rhodes.”
“
Mrs. Francesca Rhodes
,” Leah corrected. “She’s married to my father.”
Deverson froze. “I’m sorry, Leah. I know she’s married and I should be more respectful of that and your feelings. It was very insensitive of me to flirt with your mother with you standing there to hear the exchange. I did not mean to upset you. Please believe that.”
He hadn’t upset her. At least not with respect to her father. Leah’s father was practically a stranger. He showed no interest in her and, even in the last couple of months, despite Francesca warming up to her daughter, David Rhodes remained distant and uninterested.
No, Leah was not concerned about her father’s feelings. That might be wrong, but she couldn’t make herself care about someone who showed no concern for anyone else, including his own children and his wife. Rather, she was concerned for Deverson and hoped his flirtation was just innocent amusement and not a sign of true interest in her mother, because for all her mother’s recent personality improvements, she could be quite cold and cruel and she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Deverson if it suited her.
No matter her actions, Leah knew that her mother would never leave the security of her father’s wealth and status. She enjoyed being Francesca Rhodes more than she enjoyed anything else. She would not sacrifice the life she spent twenty-three years building for anyone—especially someone like Deverson, who was as similar to her as day was to night.
Deverson may have as much money if not more than her father, but he did not have the upper-class prestige her mother reveled in. He was too colorful and bright for someone so cold and jaded like her mother, and the circle of snobs she clung to even though there was nothing real about any of those relationships. They were superficial and meaningless, but Francesa seemed comfortable with those empty, phony relationships. Francesca never wanted anything real, anything her heart would warm to.
Deverson was too warm for someone as cold as her mother. She would break the man. Despite his blustering about his healthy ego, there was a hint of fragility within him that her mother’s predator instincts would attack and exploit.