Page 70 of Beau

“Is that so?” Beau picked up the paperweight and put it back down as if it were a reminder of things or someone he wanted to forget. “I seriously doubt that.”

“Son–”

“No." He shook his head firmly. “I am doing the best I can. I am in dialogue with Lucien every single day and he keeps me informed. I talk to Georgie twice a day and make sure she is supplied with everything she needs. I am doing my part.”

“And that part includes staying away from her.”“Yes," he bit out tersely. “She certainly does not need me there to hold her hand. She wanted this—wanted to have multiples and she has gotten her wish.”

Blake stared at him in sudden enlightenment. “My God. You blame her for everything that’s happened.”

“That would be foolish, wouldn’t it?”

“But it’s what you feel, isn’t it?”

“I have to get this report finished before I leave.” He brought the thick folder toward him, hoping his father would take the hint.

“You are hurting her, you know. And I thought you had moved past being that person.”

Beau’s green eyes flashed fire. “I don’t need a lecture.”

“Well, too bad you are getting one. If you had not agreed to her going the IVF way, you should have been man enough to say so. Now you are–”

“I did say it!” he shouted, shoving away from his desk. “I begged her to let us go the normal route, to wait until a few years down the road before we start to think about having children. Did she listen? No." He shook his head.

“She had to have her own way and twice, I almost lost him. Even now, she is not out of the woods.” His anger spent, he sat back down, a calmness settling over his face as he opened the folder. “Please close the doors on your way out.”

Blake rose slowly and stared at his son’s bent head. He was shaken by the explosive words and had no idea that Beau harbored so much anger. But he should have realized that something was wrong.

After the last episode, he had not been himself. After making certain Georgie was over the worst, he left the clinic and went home, just barely stopping by the room to tell her goodbye. And he had been back only once.

He also knew that nothing he said now was not going to make a difference. He hated to see the couple like this. Georgie was suffering from the lack of his presence and pretending she understood, and Beau was so angry, he was not thinking.

But more than that, he was afraid, and he thought that distancing himself from his wife was going to make him feel less about her. How wrong he was.

Giving him one last worried look, he quietly left the office and closed the doors behind him.

The words ran together and after a few minutes of not retaining any damn thing, he pushed the document away from him and marched over to the cabinet to pour himself a drink.

He was delaying, that’s what it boils down to. He did not want to go home. It did not feel the same anymore.

She was not there, and the place felt empty and lonely. He tried his best to get home just in time to go to bed, but sleep eluded him, unless he drank. Staring at the amber liquid in his glass, he dimly acknowledged that he was on his way to becoming an alcoholic.

But what is the alternative? he asked himself bitterly. How could he cope with what was happening inside him?

He had just taken the drink back with him to his desk when he saw the handles of the doors turning. Annoyance colored his expression as he wondered if his dad had returned to further torture him.

But it was not Blake who stepped through the doorway. With a swirl of rust colored light summer jacket, Miriam approached with a dazzling smile and an invitation in her eyes.

His hand froze in the process of taking a sip.

“Miriam. What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood.” Pink-painted lips parted as she read the skepticism on his face. “I know it sounds cliche, but it’s true. I was having an early dinner with a friend at Chloe’s.”

“And you decided to drop by.” He watched as she came forward and draped herself over his desk, one elegantly shod leg swinging. Her perfume was delicate and subtle, and he could see the enticing slice of flesh exposed by the low cut of her blouse.

“I took the chance and when I asked the guard downstairs if you were still here, he said yes.” Leaning forward, she took the full glass from him and took a delicate sip. “He knows me and was quite dazzled by my celebrity status.”

“Remind me to have a conversation with him about letting people in without asking. Again, what are you doing here?”