Last Kiss Goodbye. Rita HerronЧитать онлайн книгу.
called to let Jason know that a worker had been seriously injured because of a foolish oversight. Jason hated incompetence, and the fact that a man’s family would have to suffer as a consequence of a stupid supervisor made his blood boil. If he could do everything himself, he would, but he needed to work with others. He would have the supervisor removed.
He was finishing his rant when his mother entered the restaurant, walked up to his table, snatched the phone out of his hand and closed it. She was in town visiting, enjoying one of her favorite pastimes, shopping, and spending time with a close gentleman friend of hers who lived nearby. Whenever she came into town, she stayed in an exclusive one-bedroom condo Jason had bought for her several years ago. It was conveniently located close to everything, including the hospital when she needed it, and she could easily use the underground metro rail to go places. This morning, the two of them had planned to meet for lunch.
Jason stared up at her, surprised. “I wasn’t done yet.”
“You’ve got to stop doing that.” Beatrice pulled out a chair and sat down.
“My business?”
“Cursing. People are looking at you.”
“I don’t care. Do you know—”
“I don’t care. This is why no one will work with you.”
“I don’t need anyone. See what happened last time?”
“You can’t do this new venture on your own, and you know it. And bullying people won’t help you either. You need to develop a new reputation if you want to rebuild your business. How can you hire the best when they don’t want to work with you?”
Jason sighed. “What do you expect me to do?”
“I’m glad you asked. A friend of mine told me about this.” She pushed a colorful brochure in his direction. While Jason looked the brochure over, Beatrice Ward placed her usual order, soup and salad. It was a tradition of theirs to have a mother-son luncheon when his schedule allowed. She always enjoyed the time they were able to spend together.
“What is it?” Jason asked, frowning.
“It’s a flyer for an image consultant. If you want to remake your business, you need to remake your image.”
“I don’t have the time.”
“It won’t take long, and do you really want to get more phone calls like the one you just had? If you want your business to grow in the direction you want, you need to learn some business etiquette. Your temper, especially your swearing, and your lack of tact will—”
“What do you expect me to do? Handle an incompetent supervisor with kid gloves?”
“No, but first you’ll learn not to interrupt someone when they’re speaking.”
“Okay,” he agreed.
“And what if you make an employee so angry he tries to do something to your property?”
“You mean like set it on fire?” Jason laughed. He loved his mother, but sometimes she worried too much.
“Yes. You never know what someone will do when they get angry.”
Yes, he did. He’d never shared with his mother his suspicion that Dennis and Mrs. Armstrong were the ones behind him getting kicked out of his company and behind his imprisonment.
And he didn’t plan to. He decided to just shrug, brushing the thought away.
* * *
Two weeks later, Jason was more concerned about his mom’s scheduled doctor’s visit. He sat in the waiting room while she got some blood work done. To keep his mind off things, Jason went to one of the vending machines and made a selection, ready for a nice sugar rush. When the candy dropped, he picked up the packet of chocolate raisins and turned, ready to head back down the hall. He stopped when he saw a little boy, about four years old, standing near the wall, crying. No one else seemed to notice him as they rushed past. Jason waited a few moments to see if someone would stop, but no one did. He silently swore. He had to be careful—he wasn’t always good with kids—but he had to find out what was wrong. He walked over to the child and knelt down to his level. “Are you lost?”
The little boy put two fingers in his mouth and stared at him.
Jason repeated his question in Spanish.
The little boy continued to stare at him, but his tears dried up.
Jason repeated the question in French.
The little boy blinked and started to suck his thumb.
Jason sighed and shrugged. “Sorry, that’s all I know,” he said in English. “Mama? Do you know where she is? Or papa?”
He nodded.
“Oh, so you’re not lost?”
He shook his head.
If he wasn’t lost, where was his guardian? He was too young to be on his own. “My name is Mr. Ward. Who did you come here with?” Jason said, softening his voice even more.
“Mama.”
“Okay, and where is she?”
The little boy pointed vaguely down the hall.
“Well, you should be with her. She must be worried about you. Do you want me to take you to her?”
The child shook his head.
“Why are you crying?” He almost regretted asking. It was a hospital after all; perhaps someone he cared about was sick, or worse, had died.
The child looked at the chocolate-covered raisins in Jason’s hand.
“Do you want some candy?”
The child stopped crying and nodded.
“You know, you shouldn’t be talking to strangers.”
He nodded but kept staring at the candy.
Jason sighed. “Okay, I’ll give you one, then I’m taking you back to your mom.”
He poured some candy out and started to hand it to him when he felt something hard strike the side of his face. It hit him with such force he fell over, candy scattering on the ground.
“You pervert!” a woman screamed. “Get away from my son.”
Jason sat up and glared at her. “I thought he was lost.”
“And you thought it was a good idea to give him candy?”
Jason surged to his feet. “You shouldn’t have left him alone in the first place. What’s wrong with you? You think I’d sit here giving him candy if I had something else in mind? I could have snatched him in seconds.”
Her eyes widened, and she picked up her son and backed away from him.
“You’re completely irresponsible leaving a young child like him alone for so long.”
Tears appeared in the woman’s eyes. “You have no right to talk to me like that. You don’t know the stress I’ve been under and—”
“I don’t care.”
A guard approached them. “Ma’am, is this man bothering you?”
“Yes, he was trying to take my son.”
The guard touched Jason’s arm. “Sir—”
“I wasn’t doing any such thing,” he said in a low growl. “The little boy was lost, and I was just giving him some candy. I was about to take him to find his mother when this crazy woman hit me over the head with her purse and accused me of trying to steal her child!”
The woman swallowed hard, having the grace to look embarrassed. “He’s right. Excuse me.” She hurried away with her child.
Jason sighed, then touched