“Good.” Ashton closed Margaret’s door and moved around to get in the driver’s side. His features were set and determined.
“I want to come,” Sophie declared. Ashton hesitated for a moment until he opened the rear door. “Thank you.” Sophie slipped in the back of the car. “How are you feeling now, Margaret?” Sophie asked, reaching over the seat and placing her hand on Margaret’s shoulder.
Margaret reached up and covered Sophie’s hand with hers. “I will be fine, dear. Don’t worry about this old woman.”
“Too late.”
***
Sophie sat in the waiting room next to Ashton. Neither one had said a word since they were told to wait while the doctor examined Margaret. Dr. Reynolds’ office was sleek and modern with everything in its place. White on white was the color scheme of the waiting room and nothing spoke of comfort. Sophie couldn’t help but think of how some colorful paintings upon the walls could change the feel of the room entirely from the cold sterile feel that was exuded now. A row of magazines were fanned out on the table in front of them, with all the latest gossip displayed, but Sophie couldn’t bring herself to focus on anything that could distract her from her thoughts. Margaret had been quiet on the ride, which only intensified Sophie’s worry.
Sophie watched Ashton’s knee bounce nervously beside her. Sophie didn’t know what to think; she had no idea how ill Margaret was, and sitting in an oncologist’s office waiting for word didn’t do anything to ease her concern. She had so many questions that were struggling to reach her lips but Ashton’s sombre mood made her refrain.
Sophie reached over and took Ashton’s hand in hers, intertwining her fingers in his and giving a comforting squeeze. He looked up at her then, his eyes a deep blue glazed with unshed tears. The worry for his grandmother was written all over his beautiful features. Sophie smiled softly and leaned in against his shoulder. He released her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. They stayed like that until the doctor came out to speak to Ashton. They both stood quickly as Dr. Reynolds approached.
Dr. Reynolds was a well-kept man with salt and pepper hair and a strong jaw. He wore his success in the way he carried himself. He seemed a gentleman in every sense of the word. Sophie couldn’t help but notice how his white medical coat was cut to show that even in his late forties he still maintained his prime physical form. He was a very impressive man and it was easy to fall for his genuine charm.
“I feel it necessary to move up your grandmother’s surgery. She has agreed to be admitted immediately.”
Ashton nodded in agreement. “Can we speak with her?
“Of course. Follow me.” They followed Dr. Reynolds to his examination room.
“I owe you an apology, Sophie, for not telling you of my health dilemma earlier. I wanted to save you any unnecessary worry.” Margaret reached out toward Sophie.
“You owe me no such thing,” Sophie disagreed. She took Margaret’s hand in her own.
“I have been diagnosed with ovarian cancer.” Margaret smiled sadly as she squeezed Sophie’s hand. “Fortunately it has been discovered early enough. I have no plans to let this beat me. I have every intention of dancing at my grandson’s wedding one day.” Margaret smiled at Ashton, who was standing quietly by her side. “Now…” Margaret sat up straighter, turning her attention to Dr. Reynolds. “Let’s get me better, shall we?”
“Yes, we shall.” Dr. Reynolds’ smile was authentic and it made all three of them relax under its effect. His belief in Margaret’s recovery convinced Sophie to relax and to stop the panic that held her in its grip. They had hope that Margaret would recover well.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Sophie sat in her apartment staring at a painting she had just finished, making sure the colors blended to her satisfaction. She wanted it to be perfect for when Mr. Heshman came to view her work. She had managed to create a stock pile of canvases over the past year and was happy with the selection she could place in his gallery. Even though her skills as an artist had been confirmed many times over by her professors and other people in the industry, self-doubt seemed to pull at her, questioning what Mr. Heshman would think of her pieces. This was the moment she was waiting for, to have herself out there for the world to see. She only wished she felt more confident instead of vulnerable.
When Sophie got home from the restaurant, Mel wasn’t home. She had left a note on the counter saying that she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, complete with a winking smiley face at the bottom. The smiley face confirmed she was with Dustin. Sophie placed the business consultant card on the counter with their business plan and other paperwork they had gathered. A smile lightened her face; she was excited with the possibility of owning a business. She knew it wouldn’t be easy but she didn’t mind the challenge. Work was something she was always willing to throw herself into.
Sophie called the clinic. She wanted to check up on how Margaret was feeling. Her surgery was scheduled for tomorrow and Sophie was nervous. The nurse informed her that Margaret was sleeping and didn’t want to disturb her. Sophie tried to call Ashton as well and was only met with his answering machine. Sophie decided to distract herself with a painting she wanted to finish.
Sophie turned her iPod up as loud as she could stand it and sat in front of her painting. She wanted to drown out the worries that haunted her. Warmth pulled at her skin to the point of discomfort—the day had been relentless. Sophie hopped off her stool and checked the air conditioner. The air that was being pushed into the room was warm. “Come on!” Sophie complained as she turned it on full but it only continued to push warm air through its vent. “Great. I guess I have a date with Mr. Cleary tomorrow,” Sophie mumbled to herself. Sophie struggled to open the old wooden case window that groaned as she managed to pry it open. “That will have to do.” Sophie sighed. Unfortunately there wasn’t even the slightest breeze.
Sophie pulled off her shirt and pants. It brought some relief without her clothes. She tucked her iPod in her bra and went back to her stool. Taking down her finished painting, she grabbed a new canvas and set it up. Ideas flashed through her mind. She loved looking at a blank canvas and letting her mind get inspired to transform it. Sophie became lost in her creation. A gentle caress against her shoulder startled her and her paintbrush slipped from her hand, luckily missing the canvas as it dropped to the floor. Sophie pulled out her earphones and turned around.
“Ashton!” Sophie cried out. His arms wrapped around her tight, his lips teasing the sensitive flesh of her neck.
“I am so turned on right now,” he whispered against her ear, sending shivers through her.
“How did you get in?” Sophie looked up into his face. His eyes were dark and beautiful. It always amazed her how handsome he was as he looked at her hungrily.
Ashton nodded toward the open window. “You weren’t answering your phone and I saw your light was on, so I climbed up.”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “Guess I better not leave my window open anymore. I don’t want strange guys climbing in my window.”
“No, you don’t.” Ashton’s smile melted her. “I needed to talk to you. You scared me yesterday.” The fear in his words tore at her. Sophie reached up and ran her hands over his hard chest. His hands cupped the sides of her face before he brought his lips down to kiss her forehead and pull her close.
Sophie pulled back and saw the desperation in his eyes. She never expected to have this much of a hold on Ashton. It was a new concept for her and she still expected to wake up from this dream. The elation of this realization made her head swim and her need burn in white hot fury. She pulled herself up and crushed her lips against his. Sophie grabbed handfuls of his shirt, pulling him closer even though there was no space between their bodies. Ashton lifted his shirt over his head and let go of his hold only long enough to discard it before his hands found her again.
Ashton lifted Sophie, pressing her against his hard body, and walked toward her bed, laying her down. “You are so fucking beautiful.” He stood up to discard his jeans on the floor. She could feel her skin heat under his gaze. He leaned over her and kissed her lips softly before trailing down her neck. “I’m yours,” he whispered against her skin, making a smile blossom on Sophie’s swollen lips. This has to be a dream! Don’t wake up. Don’t wake up!