Chapter 16: Chapter Sixteen
The sound of mingled voices called Kennedi from a deep sleep.
Coffee.
The rich aroma roused her senses the rest of the way. She stretched to relieve the cramps in her limbs beneath the comfy blanket, appreciating the much-needed warmth. Though the calendar dictated that it was early summer in the DMV, the weather forecast predictions for D.C., Maryland and Virginia were low seventies for the next couple of days. Pop had always preferred the temperature in the house to never rise above sixty-eight degrees, even in winter.
The staff hadn’t kicked her out last night, as was the rule. Evidently concessions had been granted her after their mishap. Damn right.
She got up and dragged herself into the front room, only to plop down on the couch.
“Morning, sleepyhead. Come have some breakfast.”
Over in the kitchen, Pop sat at the table buttering an English muffin in between glancing up at the TV to get his morning fix of BBC World News.
Rolling her neck and shoulders, she worked out the cricks. The chair hadn’t been the worst in comfort. “I’m not hungry.”
“Nonsense. Of course you’re hungry. You must’ve been up half the night studying.”
Okay, a not-so-good morning. Though he might not get the time period right, so far he still recognized her.
“Don’t worry, angel. You’ll ace those finals.” He winked. “Now come eat.”
The shaft of light bursting through the blinds had her squinting at her watch—ten after nine. She lifted off the couch to feel around the cushions and looked out over the floor. “Pop, have you seen my phone?”
He gestured with the butter knife at the side table. “I stuck it in the drawer. The damn thing kept buzzing. You were sleeping so peacefully; I didn’t want it to wake you.”
“Pop, it could’ve been important.” She retrieved her phone to find one missed call, two voice mails and a text message, all from Trenton. The first voice mail came in late last night:
“There’s a lot we need to prepare for the Hong Kong-Macau conference call. Since you chose not to come to work today but managed to make it to the NCA event this evening, we’ll meet tomorrow morning at the office around ten. Don’t be late.”
His tone was edged with impatience. No polite salutation, just all clipped commands.
It’s Saturday for goodness’ sake. Does the man ever take a break?
She checked her watch again—nine fifteen. Don’t be late. Shit, she needed to shower and change. The second voice mail had come in this morning.
“I suppose I’ll have to come at you from a different angle.” The message ended.
Different angle? What did he mean?
She went back into the bedroom and slipped on her heels before dashing into the bathroom. What had been smooth, straight tresses was now a mix of bedhead and frizz from her sprint between the parking lot and the entrance to the facility in the rain the night before. A quick swoosh with mouthwash and rinse, followed by a splash of water on her face, it would have to suffice.
“Pop, I have to run.”
She recognized that look. Her teenage years were filled with images of his stern expression. “You’re not going anywhere, young lady, until you finish your breakfast. Waste not, want not. You know my rules.” He motioned to the empty chair opposite him. “Now sit. Your friends can wait. They’ll be there when you’re done.”
She started to argue but the slight smile that filled out his cheeks as he chewed his mango had her easily accepting his directive.
It would take at best a little over an hour to get from Hunt Valley, Maryland, to the office in D.C., barring any traffic. She sent off a text: I’m afraid I’ll be running late. I have a morning engagement.
Tapping her feet, she ate while waiting for Trenton’s reply. The phone chimed a good five minutes later.
“No calls at the table, young lady,” Pop reprimanded.
Here she was, twenty-eight years old and sneaking a view at her phone beneath the table.
Evidently your engagement is more important than rebuilding your father’s company. If you’re not here by ten, don’t bother coming.
She winced. Shit. Checking her watch again while mapping out the quickest route in her head, she ate at lightning speed, then pushed up from the table and wrapped her arms around Pop’s shoulders, her cheek pressed to his. “I really have to go. I’ll be back later tonight to see you, okay?”
He reached up and placed a cool palm against her other cheek. “You enjoy your day, my angel. Love you.”
Eyes closed, wishing she could spend the entire day with him, she let a kiss linger on his temple. “Love you too.”
Hearing footsteps, Trenton checked his watch. Ten fifty-one.
Short moments later, the office door open and Kennedi entered. Except for her hair that was now twisted and pinned at the nape of her head, she wore the same outfit from the night before, leading him to conclude that her tardiness had nothing to do with her working at her store, but everything to do with her being out all damn night.
His brain took a tailspin down a very familiar road. There had been signs his ex had been cheating, showing up in the same clothes and claiming she’d spent the night at her girlfriend’s after having too much wine. Though he and Kennedi were nowhere near couple status—hell, they wouldn’t even be considered friends—it didn’t stop the swift surge of anger that had his molars grinding.
“You exited in a hurry last night.” His fuse of anger could barely be contained.
“I had to get somewhere.”
He got up and rounded to the front of the desk. “Somewhere that didn’t have an extra change of clothes. You show up here over an hour late looking like you just came from some all-night roll.”
She drew back sharply. “Excuse me? Who do you think you are? Did you have me come here simply to insult me? This is not the day to test me. You should be thankful I came at all on a Saturday. You don’t get to dictate my schedule.” She came forward. “Look, I haven’t had much sleep, so let’s just get to work.”
The dark circles under her eyes validated her claim. “I suggest you get your priorities in check or you run the risk of me terminating our agreement.”
“What?” She glared up at him, weary eyes tight. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“You heard me. You might want to relay that to whoever this man is that you’re so engrossed in. Maybe he can salvage what’s left of your father’s company.”
“You know what? Screw you! I have work to do at my boutique…while I still have one.” She pivoted and stalked off in wide strides with a bellow, “Enjoy your weekend, Mr. Shaw!”
“Kennedi, we have work to do! Don’t—If you walk out that—” The door slammed shut.
Trenton slammed his entry door on a fierce curse.
He strode into the living room but caught sight of Dom through the open French doors of his home office. Anger and frustration on overdrive, Trenton walked in and dropped down on the black leather couch.
“I thought you were working with Kennedi at Chase Investments.” Dom sat back, linking fingers behind his head.
“She had the nerve to show up after hanging out all night,” he ground out. “This guy, Jacob, calls her nonstop. She even has Alan Lange tripping over his goddamn feet.” He snarled at the mere thought. “They’re meeting up next week. No doubt she’ll be on time for that.”
Dom’s head cocked. “She knows Lange?”
“She bid on him at the NCA auction. My companion and I sat with them for dinner.”
“You and Lange?”
“He behaved himself for the most part. Kennedi laughed it up with the man all damn night.”
“Are you pissed because she’s not focused on the business or because she’s seeing other men? Sounds like you have a thing for her yourself.”
“My interest lies in turning a profit, and I can almost triple the return on both the Macau and Miami deals. If she wants to misdirect her attention, it will be her foolish loss.”
Dom chuckled. “You didn’t answer the question. I mean, you did sleep with her, and I don’t think you’ve shown this much interest in a woman in quite a while.” He flung a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, I know you said you’re trying to help her in business, but I’m thinking much more than that is going on here. Why else would you get this pissed off that she may be seeing someone?”
Climbing on the defensive, Trenton stood up. “Think whatever the hell you like. I’m done with her. Fuck it. Why should I lose out on a sizable profit? I’m going to handle this shit my way.”