Although her mother didn’t know the whole truth about her relationship with Brock, she did know Elle’s history. She didn’t know that Elle had accepted a deal with her grandfather to keep her mother well, but she knew just about everything else. Elle needed to see her.
“What a lovely surprise,” Elle’s mother said as she rose from the sofa where she’d been watching television to greet her daughter. She studied Elle from head to toe. “You look lovely. What are you doing here?”
Elle flew into her mother’s accepting arms. “What do you mean? Are you suggesting I usually look like a hag when I visit you?” Elle asked.
“Well, no,” her mother said, pulling back slightly. “But you’re not usually dressed to the nines. Want to tell me what this is about?”
“Can’t we just enjoy the visit?” Elle begged.
“Hmm,” her mother said doubtfully, dipping her head. “Sit down on the sofa and I’ll pour you some green tea.”
Elle made a face. “It smells like stinky socks,” she said, but sat down, anyway.
“It’s soothing,” her mother retorted, heading for the kitchen, “and the antioxidants are good for both you and the baby.”
Elle’s cell phone rang and she frowned, fumbling in her small bag.
“Is that your cell I hear?” her mother asked.
Elle silenced her phone. “Oh, you’re watching a Sandra Bullock movie. I miss our girls’ nights together,” she said.
Her mother reappeared with a cup of tea. “Who rang on your cell phone?”
“I’m not sure,” Elle said, reaching for the tea. “It stopped.”
“Uh-huh,” her mother said and sat down beside her. “Elle, what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me.”
Elle’s throat grew swollen with emotion. She’d carried so much during the last several months—the weight of her mother’s illness, the deal with her grandfather, her secret affair with Brock and the pregnancy. And now, her misery over being married to a man who didn’t love her.
“I just wanted to see you,” Elle said. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t had a chance to get over here during the last few days.”
“Hmm,” her mother said, but she slid her arm around Elle’s shoulders and hugged her. Thank God for unconditional love. Elle felt the tears back up in her eyelids.
A knock sounded at the door.
Her mother turned, frowning. “Security didn’t call. How odd.”
Elle knew who it was. “Don’t tell him I’m here.”
Her mother stared at her. “Who?” she asked. “Elle, who?”
“Brock,” Elle whispered and shook her head. “I just can’t deal with him right now. I just can’t.”
Her mother sighed. “Elle, this is ridiculous. You can’t hide from your husband.”
“Please,” Elle said.
“Is he abusing you?” her mother asked, grave concern on her face.
“Of course not,” Elle said.
“Just a minute,” her mother called and walked to the door. She opened it. “Hi, Brock. Elle and I were just talking about you.”
Eight
“I searched for you at the party, but I couldn’t find you,” Brock said, looking at Elle. She was beautiful, dressed in a black, slinky gown that hid her pregnancy but accented her curves. Her eyes were smoky blue, her lips shiny and inviting. Her gaze, however, was cautious and guarded.
“I waited a long time, then I just followed a whim to visit my mother,” Elle said, her smile forced, her eyes dark with secret emotions. He wondered what was going on.
“Prentice said he and his wife were happy to see you,” he said.
“They were very gracious,” she replied.
Brock wasn’t quite sure how to approach Elle at this point. She clearly wasn’t interested in seeing him. That was a first. When they’d been working together, she couldn’t get enough of him. He’d felt the same for her. He still felt the same for her, although he didn’t know when he would be able to fully trust her again. He had no doubt that she could sense that. Perhaps that was part of the problem.
He glanced at the television. “What are we watching?’
Elle’s mother cleared her throat. “A Sandra Bullock movie,” she said. “Would you like some green tea?” Brock blinked. Green tea? He would rather drink dirty water. “Thank you,” he said and sat down on the sofa. “I hear Sandra Bullock is up for an Oscar.”
“Not for this movie,” Elle’s mother called as she walked toward the kitchen. “But she’s my favorite actress.”