Chapter Three

Kennedi entered Brighton Gardens and secured the satin shawl tighter about her shoulders for decorum. Her red dress hadn’t been intended to be worn at an assisted living medical facility. Even one that still carried remnants of old-world architecture from its past life, tucked away on a private fifteen-acre estate in Hunt Valley, MD.

She gasped low in admiring surprise at the sight of the night nurse’s new hairdo. The long red flowing mane was now a lovely sandy brown, cropped pixie style. “Wendy, you cut your hair.”

“Good evening, Kennedi. It’s good to see you.” Wearing a kind smile, she sat forward with elbows atop the neatly stacked papers upon the desk, pale freckled hands linked. “I wore a wig before. I’ve developed alopecia. My dermatologist said no more wigs and the like if I wanna keep what’s left of this nest upon my head. If only I had that head of curls of yours.”

“You’d have my frizz too. Well, this new look is definitely you.” The cut complemented Wendy’s plump pink cheeks in her round face. “How is my father? Good or bad day?”

“My shift started at six. I can’t speak to his day, but his evening seemed pretty good. He kept telling everyone that his favorite daughter was coming to see him. I did my rounds about ten minutes ago. He was asleep.”

His favorite daughter. Kennedi was his only daughter, his namesake. But there had been Hannah, his stepdaughter, her stepsister, resulting from a marriage that lasted just shy of two years. She hadn’t spoken to the seventeen…eighteen… How old is she? Hannah and her mother Eleanor were virtually strangers to Kennedi. No fault to them. Very little effort had been made to get to know the pair. The wedding had been so sudden; Kennedi’d had a difficult time accepting it. “I’m his only daughter.” She worried Pop’s memory had declined further.

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry, I forgot.” Expression sympathetic, Wendy tapped on her keyboard. “I have here that Dr. Marek was in with Mr. Chase this evening at five fifty-four, just about the time I arrived tonight. He didn’t jot down any new concerns since his call to you yesterday.”

The doctor’s recent diagnosis had been an excruciating blow. “Thank you. I’d hoped to get here sooner to speak with Dr. Marek and to see my father, but I had a late engagement.” She’d promised Pop his favorite wafers. She never broke a promise. He’d see the treat by his bedside, though he likely wouldn’t remember which day she’d put them there.

“I know it’s after visiting hours, but would you mind if I put these in his apartment?” She held up the bag. “I won’t disturb him. I’ll make it quick.”

Wendy looked around then leaned in. “Go before Tammy returns from break,” she whispered. “She’s by the book.”

Kennedi was well aware Tammy Whittaker was a stickler for following the rules.

She made her way to Pop’s suite on the third floor, crossed to the bedroom and placed the bag on the side table that faced him, so he’d see it the moment he awoke.

His serene expression gave her comfort. He’d been generous with his smiles and free with his hugs her entire life. No one would know there was a vile disease eating away at his brain, stealing the vibrant man Pop had always been. All pretense of strength dissolved as tears spilled down Kennedi’s cheeks. Her mom succumbing to breast cancer, and now her pop’s debilitating illness—her anguish hit in unexpected waves. She almost buckled under the weight of her pain. But she needed to be strong and instead use her grief as fuel to continue fighting to hold on to her parents’ businesses, their tether to her.

She swiped away the wetness beneath her eyes, lightly tucked the blanket at Pop’s shoulders and pressed a gentle kiss upon his forehead.

His eyes fluttered open. “Kennedi?”

“Hi, Pop. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I merely dozed off.” Seeing the bag on the nightstand, he sat up, elevating the bed with the remote and snagged a wafer. “Mmm, lemon buttercream filling.”

“Yes. I lightly steamed the lemons before grating the zest, the way Mom used to.”

“It’s delicious.” He took another bite. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.” He patted the space on the edge of the bed, and she sat down. “I’m appointing you CEO of Chase Investments,” he said as he chewed.

Kennedi blinked. “Pop, we talked about hiring someone, remember?” But she figured he didn’t remember. The conversation had taken place during one of his good days. “I don’t know. Me running a real estate investment firm… I’ve been filling in for you on the small things, but becoming CEO?”

“I will rest easy knowing you’re at the helm. I’ve already had Dean draw up the papers. He had objections about you taking control and offered to step into the role, but I’m confident you can handle it.” He took her hand in his. “We both know my condition will only get worse. I want to settle this matter while I still can. Sweetheart, do this for me.”

He could have asked her to step out onto the narrow ledge and she would have done so simply to see that smile he so easily gave her. “Okay.”

“Wonderful.” He gestured with the second helping of half-eaten snack over at the nightstand. “The papers are in the drawer. I’ve already signed them. I need you to do the same.”

Kennedi retrieved the document and signed where the yellow tabs indicated, not bothering to read the twenty or so pages of legalese.

“I need to ask one more thing of you.”

She set the papers on the table. “What is it?”

“I don’t want anyone to know about my condition. Of course, Dean knows. He’s my attorney, but more importantly my closest friend most of my life. Beyond him, I’d rather keep my circumstances quiet. It could affect business, you understand. Promise me you won’t say anything to anyone, especially the office staff. As it stands, I’m on a lengthy vacation as far as they’re concerned.”

She didn’t understand but would honor his wishes. “I won’t say anything.” She stood up. “I better get going. It’s well past visiting hours. Love you, Pop.” She kissed his cheek and headed out.

“Love you too, my angel.”

Turning into the reserved parking space in front of Chase Confections, the car’s low beams cast a brilliant spotlight on the weathered, gray cement block building. Kennedi cut the engine, got out of the car and crossed the sidewalk to the storefront’s glass door. The exterior had seen better days, but an eyesore?

You don’t throw out the old just because it needs a bit of care. Her temper surged. The damn nerve of Trenton Shaw to insult her place of business.

She checked her watch. It was nearing ten thirty, but the light illuminating from within came as no surprise. She entered with her key and quickly pressed in the code to disarm the security motion sensors. With the team often working in the rear of the store after hours, they could never be too careful.

The sweet aroma carried in the air always lifted her spirits on her stroll past the refrigerated display cases to the swing door behind the glass counter, a routine she’d done numerous times before. But tonight, the clip of her heels echoing in the quiet space drummed almost deafening between her ears. Lately she found herself counting each step, fearing when it would be the final time she’d get to walk upon the smooth pinewood laminate floor.

With two leased out-of-the-ass ovens, a refurbished walk-in fridge, and a twice-repaired HVAC system, Chase Confections had been in her family before she’d been born. In under three months, it’d be nothing short of a memory, washed away.

To add to her colossal shit show week of misery, Pop’s investors continued to breathe down her neck, demanding their targeted return on their investments. The Miami deal still hung in the wind. Now that she was officially CEO, she needed to find someone to help her figure it out. Then there was the Hong Kong real estate deal. It’d been a poor decision from the start.

Why hadn’t she paid more attention? Pop had never before asked for her input on a project. He’d asked this time, and she’d brushed him off. His cognitive abilities had been declining, but he’d done well to keep it hidden. No other feasible explanation could explain why, with his stellar knowledge of the real estate market, he would’ve brokered the kind of deal he’d made. Even with her limited experience in his world, after reviewing the data, she would’ve advised that he not go through with it. But she hadn’t bothered. She’d put off returning his calls and replying to his emails. The sudden firing of Joseph Turner, his CFO, nine months ago should’ve been her first clue that something was wrong. But between running Chase Confections while trying to push back against Shaw Enterprise’s intent to ruin her store, and her marketing consulting work on the side, she’d been too wrapped up in her own life to notice her father’s suffering health.

Heart heavy, she entered the kitchen. There, her friend and business partner, Tabitha stood laboriously shaping pink gum paste into tiny flowers for the miniature hat-shaped cakes the Women’s League Annual Fancy Hat Tea Party fundraiser requested. About two hundred or so finished pastel masterpieces sat upon trays off to Tabitha’s left.

“I couldn’t go through with it.” Kennedi draped her shawl on a vacant apron wall hook just inside the door.

“Good. I told you it wasn’t a smart plan. Trenton Shaw isn’t worth your dignity, girlfriend.” Tabitha didn’t take her laser focus off her project. “So, how was Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood welcoming party anyway? Won’t you be my neighbor,” she sang on a sardonic chuckle and finally glanced up, then stood fully, hazel eyes wide, that tiny diamond stud glinting on the side of her nose. “Wow, you look gorgeous. That dress is bangin’. Let me see. Twirl.”

Kennedi did a quick pirouette. “It was an outlandish waste of money. But you know Neal—gotta look the part,” she drawled. Neal—her ex from a little over a year ago—had a penchant for pomposity. He’d purchased the outfit for a holiday party. It’d been more about him than her. She’d thought to toss the dress in the trash where the rest of his gifts ended up, but why waste a perfectly fitted Alexander McQueen, one among the last of the deceased designer’s collection?

“It really looks beautiful on you. The man had decent taste in fashion. I’ll give him that.”

Kennedi knew her outfit had been a bit over the top tonight, but she’d wanted to ensure Trenton Shaw noticed her. And he most certainly did. She could still feel the imprint of his kiss, the taste of his tongue tangled with hers, the warm tease of his lips behind her ear, easily finding that sensitive pulse. She’d kissed him back like a woman starved for his kiss and his kiss alone, but she couldn’t go through with it. What was I thinking? Intending to seduce Trenton Shaw to try to sway him from demolishing her store had been a ridiculous, brainless plan.

Shaking away the thought, she strode over to the tray of tiny hats to get a closer look at the beautiful, intricate designs.

Tabitha had come in second in their class behind her and was a magnificent pastry design artist. Though fierce competitors in culinary school, they’d soon become inseparable friends.

“I left the party early to visit my father.”

“How is he?” Genuine concern blanketed her friend’s eyes.

“He had a good day, for the most part.” She wished she could witness more days like today with Pop. Good days were becoming fewer and fewer. “He has the onset of dementia.” Kennedi’s eyes instantly watered but she sucked it back. “I found out yesterday. The tumor has gotten bigger and is affecting his cognitive ability, according to his doctor. It’s pressing on his brain stem. They want to try and shrink it before attempting to operate.”

“No!” Tabitha gasped and hugged her. “I’m so sorry.”

Kennedi swallowed hard to remove the ache in her throat. “I came back here to catch up on paperwork. I’ll be spending Monday at Chase Investments. Pop made me CEO. I signed the papers tonight. I have to tell Richard, the acting manager, and my father’s assistant Audrey, as well as the staff, about the management change and that his leave of absence will be indefinite.”

“Wow, that’s a heavy amount of responsibility for you.”

“Yes, it is. But I couldn’t say no, Tab.”

“I understand. Do they know about his condition? And will you tell them what happened with that real estate deal?”

Kennedi stroked the ache resurfacing at her right temple. “I understand his dementia will only get worse, but he asked me not to expose him. I intend to honor that. As for the Hong Kong investment…” She let out a long sigh, already feeling the weight of this new responsibility. “I need to schedule a meeting with the investors. Maybe there’s a way I can fix it. I haven’t a clue how. Don’t even get me started on the Miami mess.”

Tabitha rested back against the metal prep table with her arms folded at her chest. “Did you at least get to meet Trenton Shaw? Or did he send his attorney to play buffer?”

“Shaw was there. Security circled throughout and stayed close, but for the most part, he mingled with everyone.” Tall, broad shouldered, thick dark hair, those steel-blue eyes that immersed her like a sudden storm on a warm day—she hadn’t managed to escape his undeniable appeal. And that damn cologne of his, a fresh woodsy, earthy citrus. She could still smell it.

Kennedi forced out of her head the memory of being held in Trenton Shaw’s embrace on the dance floor, and later the singeing touch of his fingers stroking the side of her breast as he tasted and gave a thorough exploration of her mouth with his tongue.

“We met.” Oh, they’d met, all right. “We talked for a good while.” And kissed. She was too embarrassed to mention that part, still not sure how she’d managed to let things get even that far. “He asked me to join him in his suite. But I couldn’t do it.”

Surprise flashed across Tabitha’s tawny olive features. “Really? So he’s down with the brown? If he wasn’t into vistas before, I’ll bet that dress helped to change his mind.” She fingered unruly curls that rested on Kennedi’s shoulder. “Girl, even your twist-out’s on point.”

The hour spent on her thick chestnut locks, another hour spent waxing away just about every hair on her body, a mani-pedi—and all for what? To chicken out. Releasing a heavy breath of defeat, she felt like a fool. “I’m such an idiot.” She brought up both fists balled tight. “Shaw made it so easy. I had him in my grasp, but I let him get away.”

“Were you at least able to talk to him about the store?”

“I touched on it. He won’t forget it, that’s for sure.” Apparently neither would she. “All’s not lost. I plan to bypass his attorney and contact him directly.” Kennedi noted a slight sluggishness in her friend’s gaze. “Tab, you’ve been here since six a.m. Let Carlos finish up in the morning. Why isn’t he here assisting you? He’s your apprentice and needs the practice.”

“He had to study. Exams are next week.”

“Oh. Right.” Kennedi could hardly keep up with her own schedule. “Go home and get some rest.”

“I have to finish this order tonight. Mrs. Donnelly called asking if she could come by first thing in the morning.”

“And you guaranteed it’d be ready.”

“Yep, and I’m almost done.”

They were dedicated workhorses, Kennedi conceded.

“I appreciate you letting me stay with you. I regret selling my townhouse.”

“There’s plenty of room. I think I have a buyer for my bike. Once it’s sold, you’re welcome to store your furniture and boxes in the garage. It’s fully insulated and temperature-controlled, so no worries. This way you don’t have to waste money on a storage unit.”

Warm, weary eyes grew solemn. “You love that bike.”

Kennedi returned a small smile again. She’d babied her Yamaha V Star 950, even chose the house because the garage had air-conditioning to protect the bike’s custom paint job. “We could use the money. I haven’t ridden it for quite some time, and it’s taking up useful space.” Not wishing to drag herself down about the bike, she brought them back on topic. “I enjoy having you at the house. It’s been like a two-month sleepover.”

“I’m glad I didn’t give up my house and move in with Neal like he—” Reading the pain that surfaced across Tabitha’s features, Kennedi amended, “I didn’t mean you were wrong to move in with Jeff. You two were engaged and—” She broke off to avoid choking more on that foot in her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Jeff’s a tool. The universe has a funny way of working things out.”

Kennedi rested a supportive hand upon her friend’s forearm. “I’ll let you get back to work.” She drew her into a hug, then left the kitchen.

In her office, she dropped in the chair behind the desk. She was dogged tired, and angry, and sad, and she only foresaw more of the same tomorrow.

Volumes of her mom’s handwritten recipe binders cluttered the desk and lined the shelf. Pictures scattered the walls of the two of them smiling beside perfectly crafted cake designs, with Kennedi at various ages. So often she’d sat staring at her mom’s loving, beautiful face, every memory playing on a reel in her head. There had to be a way to protect Chase Confections, safeguard her mom’s legacy.

Glum, dragging in a smooth, deep breath, she turned on the computer, grabbed the stack of mail off the corner of the desk and riffled through the bills, in search of the reminder notice for the fast-approaching balloon payment on the store. It fell in line behind the electricity and internet bill. There were also letters from her father’s investors who expected a reply on when they’d see their money. Like luck, time was definitely not on her side. When life rained, it poured.

Shoving the papers aside, she pulled up the orders and began typing away, needing to narrow her mind to something, anything mechanical. Work. Focus on work. Shit still needed to get done, even if it might only be for three more months.

About an hour later, her fingers stilled on the keyboard. She looked up at Tabitha standing in the doorway, her crossbody purse strap anchored upon her shoulder.

“I’m almost done.”

“I left a note for Carlos to finish the last batch.” Tabitha leaned her back against the doorjamb, the weight of the day revealing itself in her friend’s wide yawn. “Have you heard from the bank about the refinance? It’s been nearly two weeks since we applied.”

“I’m sure they’re simply being thorough.” Kennedi hoped so as she finished the last of the inventory list and shut down her computer. Between the balloon payment and the botched real estate deals, she was drowning in debt.

She was grateful Pop’s assisted living costs had been covered for the year by his best friend and longtime attorney, Dean Watts. “I’ll call the bank on Monday.”

“Kenni, I don’t think we should take any more orders until we know what will happen with Chase Confections. Come August first, Shaw Enterprise is scheduled to break ground. Do you really think you can be persuasive enough that Trenton Shaw will amend his plans?”

She hoped so. “It wouldn’t take much to shift his parking garage a mere block. I told him this,” Kennedi answered while tidying up her desk and placing the cake design books upon the bookshelf. “Now that we’ve met face-to-face, as I said, I’m going to contact Shaw directly.”

“Look, I know how much this place means to you. You made a promise to your mother to keep her store going. I understand that. But do you really think she would’ve wanted to see you struggle to hold on to it, especially given your father’s current health issues, on top of his business shortfalls? The balloon payment is coming due. Maybe we should cut our losses. I spoke with Evie yesterday, and she agreed with me that we—”

Kennedi pivoted in her heels and shot Tabitha an accusatory glower across the small space. “You two had a business meeting without me?”

“It wasn’t a business meeting. Evie called to check in as usual, and I asked when she’d be back from visiting with her family. She wanted an update on what was happening around here. We’re both worried, that’s all.”

Though they each crafted cake designs, Kennedi took care of the books and marketing. Tabitha managed the day-to-day. Their friend Evie worked the storefront and saw to the employees.

Understanding her friends’ grave concerns, Kennedi set her shoulders firmly, keeping up a strong front. “Tab, I’ll think of something. If I have to sell my house to pay you and Evie back your portions of the business, I’ll do it.” The modern, modest-sized two-story had been purchased outright as a gift from Pop during his real estate heyday. It seemed so long ago, when things were good. “This is my family’s financial mess. I’ll protect your and Evie’s interest.” She refused to drag her two best friends and business partners down with her.

“I trust and stand with you, whichever way things fall. I’m sure Evie does as well. We just want you to be sure your actions in all of this are from a business perspective and not flatly an emotional one. I mean, look at you.” She flung a hand up and down, gesturing at Kennedi’s frame. “After that plan of yours, we’re not sure.”

Typical Tab—never mince words. “I am thinking from a business aspect.” Kennedi bristled a touch but easily waned. “It’s the main reason why I attended that party tonight. I wanted to face Trenton Shaw.”

“You’d intended to use your feminine wiles to persuade him to spare our store.” Tabitha laughed and shook her head. “Girl.”

Feeling every bit the idiot, Kennedi swallowed that blatant truth whole. “Now that he has met me, I’ll try to negotiate a deal. Just half of this building sits where he intends to build the garage for his hotel and casino. All it would take is a slight plan adjustment that would keep us here.”

They exchanged a look, both understanding that it still didn’t solve the balloon payment coming due. Nor would it stop Pop’s investors from threatening to bankrupt his company.

Kennedi flicked the wall switch, and as they headed out, too exhausted to drive, she handed over the car keys. “You mind?”

Tabitha shook her head as they locked up and got in the car. Tossing her waist-length, inky-dark braid over her shoulder, she started the engine while giving a glance over. “Helluva long day.”

Kennedi couldn’t agree more.