Page 4 of Roark
Right now, all he could see were the heavy gray clouds that had been hanging around all day. Glancing down, he saw the shined top of one wing-tip shoe and the black sock he wore beneath charcoal-gray slacks. His left hand rested on his thigh, while his right elbow was propped on the desk. With every breath he took, he was reminded that his mother was no longer here on this earth with him. That she’d been taken away by someone who’d wanted her dead.
That was a hard pill to swallow and each time he tried, it left a bitter and nasty taste in his mouth. The desk phone chimed, and Roark turned quickly to stare at it. It chimed again, a little red light toward the edge of the phone’s screen blinking with the sound. His assistant usually answered and screened his calls, but she wouldn’t answer this one, because it was on his personal line. Every executive in the company had a personal line for family and clients they’d speak to no matter what was going on. His family knew the best way to reach him was his cell, and since he’d already established he wasn’t in the mood to do anymore work, he just watched the red light continue to blink.
Years of his father teaching him about good customer service, being a good listener to their clients and accessible to the extent that it didn’t interfere with his family life had Roark cursing before reaching out to grab the handset. “Hello.” One word spoken in a solemn tone that he hoped let whoever was on the other line know he didn’t want to talk.
“Hello, Roark.”
He sat up in his chair slowly, dropping his leg down until his foot stomped the floor. “Katrina?”
“I called your old number, and some guy answered.” She gave a little chuckle. “Then I was transferred to the operator, and she told me you no longer worked in that office, that you’d moved on to another business venture. She gave me the number, since you didn’t bother to tell me about the change.”
Facing his desk now, Roark rested both elbows on the desk blotter. “I haven’t seen or heard from you in four years.”
“We were married for three and a half years.”
“And you left that marriage because I no longer made you happy. I took that to mean you had no intention of keeping in touch.” At the time, Roark had taken the words in the very short note Katrina had left him to mean a number of things.
“Even in the end, you couldn’t muster up the strength to care.” Her tone was always accusatory.
He pinched the bridge of his nose and contemplated asking her what the hell that was supposed to mean, but too much time had passed and now he simply didn’t care. The marriage was over, and he had no intention of taking that dive again. “Is that why you tracked me down?” His temples throbbed and he hoped like hell her answer would be no. Because if Roark didn’t want to work, he definitely didn’t want to talk to his ex-wife about the demise of their marriage.
The quick intake of breath being released with a loud huff was a sign she didn’t like his question. She was probably running her fingers through her hair too. That’s what she did when she was frustrated. Why that memory of all things slapped at his already bad mood, he didn’t know.
“I wanted to express my condolences. I read about the fire and Maxine’s death.”
“Thank you.,” The response came as if he were still on autopilot.
“How are Ridge and Suri holding up?”
“They’re fine.”
“Right,” she snapped. “Because you’re taking care of them. And nobody needs to take care of you, because you’re Roark Gideon Donovan. You’re the strongest, most dependable, most—”
“I’m at work, Katrina.” He’d interrupted her because he didn’t need to hear what his ex thought of him. Not today. “I appreciate your call, but we’re all handling this as best we can.”
She sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you, Roark.”
He couldn’t tell if that were true or not, so he just didn’t respond.
“Did all of your family come? I know Maxine loved to see your father’s side of the family more than her own. She hated that you guys were the only Donovans in London.” Katrina was from Toronto. He’d met her when he’d been there on a business trip. For a couple of months, they’d done the long-distance thing but he’d quickly tired of that and had asked her to move to London. She’d accepted, and he’d leased her a flat for a year before they were married.
“All of them couldn’t come, but enough did. It was great seeing them.” It had actually been really nice to have so much family so close by for a few days. Suri had loved being around all the children.
“I would’ve come too. If you’d called to let me know what was going on.”
“You made your loss of interest in me and my family pretty clear four years ago.” His words were filled with hurt and disdain, even though he hadn’t felt anything for Katrina in a very long time.
“And now I’m making it known that I wish I would’ve been told the woman who’d once been my mother-in-law was dead. Damn, Roark you don’t have to be such an insufferable ass all the time.”
“I have to be who I am.” And in doing so, that did make him insufferable most of the time. He was already aware of that fact. How many times had he had to be the bad guy with Ridge and Suri? How many times had they hated something he’d done or said in regard to a decision they’d made? But that hadn’t mattered; Roark did what he thought his father would’ve done in the same circumstances. He took care of his family the way he’d always done, and he didn’t give a damn who disagreed with that.
“I wanted to be there, Roark. Can’t you understand that, at least? I would’ve liked to have been there to see her one last time.”
“It was a closed casket.” Because her body had been burned too badly for any other option.
She made another sound that he knew meant she was getting tired of this conversation. That was fine—he was too. “Tell, Ridge and Suri how sorry I am that she’s gone.” She took a quick breath. “And sorry that they’re stuck with you.”
The line disconnected before he could respond, and Roark slowly placed the headset back on the base. He wasn’t giving Ridge and Suri that message, just as he wasn’t going to acknowledge how much the disappointed sound of Katrina’s voice reiterated how he’d failed at being a good husband. Not only had he failed with her, the marriage hadn’t produced any children either, both facts he knew had saddened his mother.
