Page 46 of On the Fly
His mother.Again. He let that go to voice mail while reaching for a sticky note left on the screen.
I rescheduled your call to tomorrow night. Lester seemed fine with the change, even though it’ll be Saturday. You slept through my repeated attempts to wake you. I hope I made the right decision. Now go home and get more rest. You’ve been so off-balance lately. Lyla.
Ander scrubbed a hand down his face before anchoring his cheek against his palm. What was he going to do? Off-balance didn’t explain what was happening to him. Even he couldn’t figure out what he wanted. His knee-jerk responses to the problems at Rora didn’t make any sense.
His heart ached with how badly he missed Emma. At first, he hadn’t understood where his pain came from. He’d blamed his father then he’d blamed his doctor who had given him a clean bill of health during his last physical because, clearly, he’d gotten it wrong. The pending heart attack never came. Instead all this pain centered around the woman who wouldn’t leave his thoughts for any reason. And why had he sent her away?
He rubbed his forehead. He’d only known Emma for such a short while. He closed his eyes as he dropped his head forward, and it happened again. There she was—this time laughing softly at his attempts to dry her after their shared shower. He liked her long hair wet and hanging heavy down her back. She was truly beautiful, inside and out.
He clenched his hands into fists. His father had gotten it completely wrong. Ander felt this love deal very deeply.Love. Ander scoffed at the very idea. He couldn’t possibly love her. But whatever his draw was to her, he couldn’t shake himself from its clutches.
Where he suffered, Emma hadn’t put up a single fight to stay with him, hadn’t said a word that night or since. As if she was fine with leaving and going back home. Ander’s chest constricted at the thought of never seeing her again. He drew in a deep breath and slowly let it go.
No matter how necessary it had been for him to break things off, he’d been an ass. Maybe his father was right. He was cold and calculating, incapable of showing his feelings. But that was necessary to get things accomplished and personal relationships had no place in business.
A knock on the office door had him looking that direction. When it pushed open, his mother stuck her head inside. He barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
“He’s in here,” she said over her shoulder before turning back toward him. “I just called, and you didn’t answer.” She came fully inside the room, now flanked by his brother Erik and his sister Skye.
The sigh he gave must have been audible with the smirk on Erik’s otherwise grim face.
“I tried to call you,” his mother said again.
He glanced down to where his mother pointedly stared at the cell phone in his hand. Damn, he couldn’t even pretend to not have heard the ring. Instead, Ander pushed back in his seat and pursed his lips, looking at the lynch mob—aka his family—as they stalked closer.
Where Skye and Erik stopped in front of his desk, his mom had no sense of boundaries. She rounded the desk and came to where he reclined in his chair. Then she awkwardly leaned in and kissed his cheek. His position didn’t make it easy, and he didn’t help her.
“I haven’t been in this office since your father died.” She glanced around curiously. “Nothing’s really changed.”
For the first time, Ander looked around. The aesthetics of the masculine, rich leather sofas and chairs, the heavy solid wood furniture matched his father’s tastes. The desk even screamed an old man had picked it out many years ago.
“I miss him.” The forlorn tone in her voice didn’t go unnoticed when she stood straight and completed a full circle to take in the room.
“Mom, we should go to Erik’s office,” Skye suggested, going to their mother’s side. Though the two women looked completely different in stature and hair color, they were carbon copies of each other in their nurturing natures. His sister’s show of compassion had Ander remembering their father had only died a short time ago. Of course, his mother would struggle being inside this office. He took a deep breath.
“Why are you three here?” Ander said in a gruff tone as he got to his feet, assuming whatever discussion they planned needed to happen elsewhere as Skye suggested.
“No, here’s the best place for us to talk.” Aurora Jorgensen squared her shoulders, and the determined woman he’d known all his life came to the fore. For the first time since she’d entered the room, he noticed the notebook in her hands. She inhaled deeply, and Ander looked over at Erik who was stone-faced, his concentration on their mother. “Ander, I’ve been calling you, wanting you to come to me, but this is better. He’d want me to have this conversation here.”
Skye stayed by Aurora’s side as she went to the sofa and chairs arranged in the corner of the room.
“Honey, get me a bottled water from the refrigerator.”
His sister went to a wall near the side bar and pushed a panel. A refrigerator opened to a full display of every sort of drink available. Ander did a double take, not having been aware that was there. Obviously, his siblings had been in this office more than he had ever been allowed.
Skye took a water bottle. Erik followed her over and went for an IPA, tilting one in Ander’s direction in question. He nodded and took the bottle. Had he known they were there, he’d probably have drunk them all to ease the chest pains he’d endured all day.
“Let me.” Erik reached for his beer and quickly used the bottle opener to remove the cap before handing it back over.
“Someone, tell me what’s going on.”
“Take a seat, Ander.” His mother patted the sofa cushion next to her. Neither Skye nor Erik had chosen their place or come any closer, yet Ander felt caged in. Only with a sense of great foreboding did he finally go to his mother’s side. Once he was seated, Skye then Erik took the chairs directly across from them.
“Ander, we’re worried about you,” Erik started, but his mother lifted a hand toward Erik then at Ander, knowing Ander would have an immediate rebuttal.
“Erik, let me handle this.” Her tone was hard, and he couldn’t stop his inner big brother from lifting a teasing eyebrow Erik’s way to show he’d won.
“I wouldn’t get too cocky, asshole. She’s not too pleased with you either.” His mother cleared her throat and looked pointedly at Erik. “Sorry, Mom.” Then he busied himself with the label on his bottle.
