Maid for Him.

Chapter Ten

Cole squinted his eyes against the sun, beaming like a laser through the leaves of the big old tree. It's twisted trunk still strong and proud, and sporting a tiny engraved heart with the initials C.W loves T.B in the center. Instinctively he reached out and ran his fingers over the rough wood, where he had carved it a year ago just to see Tess smile.

It was on the third time they'd visited this place. It had become their special spot fairly quickly as it was where they'd met. The first time he set eyes on Tess, Cole had been fresh off of an argument with his mother for the third time that month. She meddled in everything he did, she always had, but now she was insisting he thinks about marriage. Being single looked bad for the company and the family name apparently.

"The Washingtons raise good, moral men, Cole. Trustworthy, stable men. Men who find a suitable wife, settle down and have children." She'd chirped away at him while he attempted to work.

"Nothing about love mother?" He challenged her, more to piss her off than anything, without raising his eyes from his laptop.

"Well of course, in time you learn to love each other. Look at your father and me."

"I'd rather not, thank you. You two are hardly a glowing example of holy matrimony."

She clutched at her heart, her mouth falling open. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know what it means, mother. Do we need to go over the same argument, day in, day out?" He tried to block her out, if he just kept typing, maybe she'd leave. No such luck, she was riled up. The storm was coming.

The truth was, his father spent weeks at a time in New York City. Rarely taking the time to visit the ranch. It was the cornerstone for everything his family did, you would think he'd at least stick around every now and then. His father had an upscale apartment, not far from his own. Although his father's abode came with a few perks that his didn't. Like 25-year-old secretaries that never seemed to go home and a private doorman who was under strict instructions to announce every arrival- especially his wife's.

Cole wasn't sure if his mother was totally naive or if she suffered a severe case of delusion. Either way, the last thing he wanted was to listen to her go on and on about his father's moral fiber.

"Just make an effort Cole. That's all I'm asking. Put on a nice suit for dinner tonight and join daddy and me at the table."

"I don't have time. I have to finish this acquisitions proposal by tomorrow."

He continued clicking away at his computer. Don't make eye contact. Don't make eye contact. He chanted through his thoughts. Glancing up and over his shoulder, he saw his mother's eyes. Red at the rims, downturned and looking more than her 60 years. Damn it.

He stopped working and spun his chair to face her. Throwing his hands up in the air he admitted defeat. "Fine, a suit and a family dinner it is."

She didn't even hold back her joy. "Great," she said. "That's sorted. Marigold will be here at six."

She turned and made a break for the door.

"Hold on. What's Marigold doing here?"

"Daddy and I invited her, darling. As I said, it's time you thought about marriage." She said and scurried from the room.

He slid his chair back and followed her. "You want me to marry Marigold?" He scoffed.

"Why not? She's from a good family. Old money. She's very attractive and really has a good head on her shoulders." His mother defended her choice. "Oh, you two would make gorgeous children."

It was true, Marigold was intelligent and beautiful and there was absolutely nothing at all wrong with her. Maybe that was what unnerved him the most. Her pristine perfection that must be maintained at all costs. He could do worse and the truth was, he and Marigold grew up together and they got along well. Especially when they talked about business, they were one and the same.

He was just hoping for more, or possibly less. He wanted someone who let her hair fly loose, not giving care to the tangles. To ride in a car with the top down, swim in the ocean and not worry about her makeup. Someone fun. He didn't want to marry a carbon copy of himself, where would the joy be in that?

"I understand that mother, but unfortunately, I don't love Marigold." He placed his hands on his hips. She needed to know he was serious. "I will never love her. Not now. Not ever. Do you hear me?"

"Oh pfft." His mother shooed him with her wrinkled hand. "Love lasts a year or two at best, then it's all about respect and shared goals."

It must be difficult to not become cynical when you'd lived the life she had. Never wanting for anything money can buy but totally devoid of love.

"Maybe for you and father, but not for me." He stormed out of the house, letting the screen door crash shut behind him. The need to escape her and her skewed view of love and marriage had him practically running to the stables. Saddling up old Clyde, slipping his feet in the stirrups, he took off riding across the grounds and out into the woods. When he reached the river, he slowed Clyde down to a canter and let the cool breeze blowing off the water, cool his temper.

It wasn't his mother's fault. She didn't get it; she was raised to expect nothing more. But so was he. So why was he so different? Money was great but it wasn't his life's goal. He wanted to travel, to experience life and to love. Love hard.