Page 6 of Faking it for Gran's Sake

Chapter Two

MASON

A text message pings on my iPhone, and I stop midsentence during a conversation with my dad. My gasp fills the quiet boardroom. Lauren hasn’t messaged me for ten months, and seeing her name on my screen gives me an instant adrenaline boost.

“What is it, son?” Dad’s gravelly voice startles me.

My throat constricts, and I swallow to speak. “Gran. It’s Gran’s . . . friend.”

Dad launches out of his chair. The blue sky from the windows silhouettes his tall frame. “Is everything okay?”

I wave him to sit down. “She’s good. Sorry. I’m just surprised she’s messaging me.” I click on the text and read.

Lauren: I offered to walk my dog with Gran, and she expects you to be there. Can you fit it into your schedule? I’m free after 4 p.m. this week. Name a date and time.

Date? I nearly drop my phone. She means, “what day?” Idiot.

I peek at Dad’s concerned face. “Can I leave the office a little early this afternoon? Take Gran for a walk around the block?”

“Sure. But put the Chester report on my desk before you leave.” Dad rubs his bloodshot eyes. He pulled an all-nighter in the office. Two power naps at 2 a.m. and 4 a.m were all he needed to face today. “That reminds me. I have a meeting with Morrison in a few. I need to do some last-minute preparations.” Dad nods and exits the boardroom.

My heart sinks. The Chester report will take another four hours. Four hours I don’t have. But I can’t let Lauren down, and the idea of playing family with her, leading her dog, and holding her hand—it’s too good to pass up.

Hold on. Lauren’s doing this for Gran. Not me. She doesn’t want a man over-committed to his job. And unfortunately, I can’t give her that. It’s what’s expected of me. I’ll take over the company when Dad retires, and my son, if I have one, will continue the legacy. It’s not only because I have an obligation. I love the chase of another sales target. I love winning another deal. I love signing a larger contract. Compiling figures and reports and accepting the challenge when profits dip. It only drives my motivation to succeed.

Lauren doesn’t get that. I enjoy what I do, even though much stress comes with it. The business is a part of me, and if I weren’t a co-director of Brooker and Son, I’d become driven about something else.

I reread the text. Do I detect an element of annoyance in her words? Has she accepted the way I am—limited availability? It’s the reason she broke off our engagement. But if it still annoys her, maybe she still has feelings for me. Or she wouldn’t give two hoots if this building collapsed on top of me.

A new message flashes on my screen.

Lauren: Gran noticed I wasn’t wearing the ring.

A drum pounds in my chest as if I drank four cups of coffee. Is she saying she’s open to wearing my ring again? For Gran? I keep it in my bedside drawer. Occasionally, I study it and get depressed. Why have I kept it? It’s not like I can pass it on to my next girlfriend. Is it because I’ll only get half the money back? I paid eight thousand, and although I’ve lost more money in shares before, I’m reluctant to part with the piece of jewelry. I shrug. Good thing I didn’t because Gran wants proof.

A crazy idea pops into my head. It’s not calculated or rational and could put my heart and world into recession.

What if I focus my drive and effort on winning the most important deal of my life? Winning Lauren back?

***

“SHE’S LATE.” GRAN PICKS a piece of lint from her floral cardigan.

I pace the tiny space Gran calls a living room. I gulp at the opposite words springing to mind—death’s domain. I shake off the shiver. I need to hold on to the days we have left.

Gran’s bed, kitchenette, and living room all squeeze into one area. Guilt pinches hard. It broke my heart to see Gran move into a retirement home. She insisted on staying in Georgetown, which meant fewer options. The better of the two villages didn’t have an opening. They put us on a waiting list and said when someone “leaves,” they’d let us know—an eery chill snakes down my spine.

“Lauren’s always late. But she loves you, Gran. She’ll be here.”

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