Best Kept Secrets: The Complete Series

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Best Kept Secrets: The Complete Series Page 75

by Kandi Steiner


  And I was the one who had his attention.

  He had just finished playing one of my favorite songs by Debussy when I slid behind the bar, collecting the dishes from the couple who had just left. We had a long line of people waiting to be seated, and as soon as I cleared those two spaces, someone else would occupy them. I glanced at Reese as the last note played, and when our eyes met, he winked, sending a wave of heat from my neck all the way down to my toes. I felt the flush shading my cheeks as I tore my eyes away, smiling and shaking my head as I continued clearing the bar.

  “He’s incredible to watch, isn’t he?”

  I smiled even wider, still collecting dishes. “He really is,” I answered, but when I lifted my gaze to the woman who had spoken, every hint of a smile fell from my face in an instant.

  Jennifer Stinson.

  “Oh, hello,” I breathed, trying to replace the smile. My lips twitched, but I couldn’t manage anything more than that. “Jennifer, right?”

  Her lips curved up wickedly at my attempt at nonchalance. “That’s right. And you’re Sarah Henderson, Randall’s niece.” Her eyes narrowed, sizing me up from head to toe before she tilted her head to the side. “And the lucky little lady studying piano with tonight’s main attraction.”

  My cheeks burned again, though this time it was much less pleasant. “Is there anything I can get you?” I asked, even though she already had a full glass of red wine clutched between her manicured fingers.

  She tilted the glass in my direction, still smiling as she took a sip. When the glass was back on the bar, she tilted her head to the other side, not bothering to cover her blatant observation of me.

  “It must be somewhat distracting,” she said after a moment. “Learning from Reese. I mean, let’s not be coy, dear. He’s not exactly hard on the eyes, is he?”

  I swallowed, tossing the last dish in the bin I’d carried over from the kitchen before whipping out a rag to wipe down the bar. “I don’t really look at him like that,” I said. “He’s my teacher.”

  “Oh, right,” she said, face twisting up conspicuously as she made an ok sign with her hand. “I’m sure your professional relationship with him makes it impossible to see how insanely hot he is.”

  All pretenses of fair play were gone with that sentence, with the way her eyes narrowed as she took another sip of wine.

  “Well, enjoy your evening, Miss Stinson,” I said, tossing the rag on top of the dirty dishes in the bin. I picked it up, balancing it on my hip as I turned for the kitchen, but I didn’t make it a step before she spoke again.

  “It really is too bad, you know,” she said.

  As much as I wanted to just keep walking, to deny her request for me to play whatever game she had in mind, I turned anyway, still balancing the bin against my hip as I waited for her to continue. “What’s that?”

  “Well… it’s just that… as his student, I’m sure you know how well he works with his hands.” Her eyes slipped over my shoulder, and I knew she was staring right at Reese. “Let’s just say that talent isn’t only reserved for the piano.”

  All the blood drained from my face, trickling down my spine like icy cold water. My feet were frozen, rooting me to the spot as I tried to blink, tried to breathe, tried to shake off what she’d just said.

  She’s just trying to get to you, I assured myself. She doesn’t know anything.

  But I could still see the lipstick on his mouth from Saturday night. I could still close my eyes and imagine his lips on hers, her hands on him, the two of them rolling in what I imagined to be red silk sheets on her bed.

  He said she kissed him, and he didn’t kiss her back.

  He said he only wanted me.

  He wouldn’t lie to me… would he?

  I internally shook my head, because I already knew the answer. He wouldn’t. Reese cared about me. He wouldn’t lie about something like that.

  “Aw,” Jennifer said, and I popped my eyes open, not realizing I’d squeezed them shut. She clucked her tongue, shaking her head at me as she sipped on her wine. “You really think what you two have is special, don’t you? Let me guess, he fed you all his sad, woe is Reese stories about Charlie, right? He told you he felt different around you, that you’re what he wants, that she broke him, but you make him feel whole?”

  I tried to swallow, but it came up dry.

  Jennifer chuckled. “Oh, sweetie. Reese is very good at saying what he needs to in order to get what he wants. But trust me when I say that Charlie is the only woman he’s ever loved, the only woman he ever will love. And you’re just a distraction.”

  A chill ran down my spine, and I shook my head against it, glancing at Reese over my shoulder as Jennifer spoke again.

  “I know the truth hurts, but once he’s had you, once he’s gotten his fill?” She clucked her tongue again when I turned to face her. “He’ll find a way to get you out of his hair. It’s what he did with Blake, and with me, and I assure you, you’re no different.” She tilted her glass toward me, taking another sip off the top. “No matter how many times he tells you otherwise.”

  I still couldn’t swallow as I watched her turn in her barstool. She was focused on Reese once again with a satisfied smirk on her face, like the dagger she’d just shoved in my heart brought her absolute joy.

  I forced a breath, dragging my lead feet back into the kitchen and dumping the dishes into one of the giant sinks. My vision blurred as I ran the water as hot as I could, letting it burn my skin as I scrubbed the dishes that weren’t even my job to wash. I needed to move, to keep my hands busy, to work and think about anything other than what Jennifer had just said to me.

  In my heart, I wanted to believe there was no way she could be right.

  Reese cared about me. He wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t lie to me.

  But even as I repeated those words, I felt the doubt in them.

  Reese said Jennifer kissed him, that he’d pulled away, told her to get out of his car. But then how did she know about him and Charlie? If I was the only person he’d ever told? Did he lie about that, about me being the only one?

  Did he lie about what happened with Jennifer, too?

  He wouldn’t lie to you, I tried again, but every muscle in my body was wound tight at the prospect.

  Because as much as I hated it, what Jennifer said made sense.

  Reese had told me about Blake, about how she loved him, gave him all of her and still he couldn’t see past Charlie to give her what she wanted from him. And I’d been there when Charlie had shown up to his place — not once, but twice. He assured me nothing had happened, but how was I to know that for sure? Maybe that day she came to see him, she only left quickly because I was there. And during the storm? Charlie could have been there for hours before I showed up.

  Maybe that’s why he’d been in such a mood.

  Maybe it was why he’d kissed me.

  He wanted relief from the pain, from the loss of her, and he found it easily in me. I’d all but thrown myself on him that night.

  I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut to try to stop the thoughts. But they roared on, a blistering fire searing every other attempt at rationalizing the situation.

  He wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t use you. He doesn’t want to get rid of you. What you have is real. Trust him, not her.

  It was all I could do to keep breathing through the rest of my shift, repeating those words over and over until they quieted everything else. After work, we’d be together. Reese would take me home, and we’d be alone, and I could ask him for myself. He’d hold me and kiss me and silence my anxiety for good.

  He’d make it all better. I knew he would.

  I just had to make it through the next three hours.

  ***

  Reese

  I made it.

  It might have been the slowest night ever at The Kinky Starfish, which was sort of an oxymoron, since it was busy the entire time. But knowing I’d have Sarah in my home after, knowing the exciting news I had to tell
her? It made every single second drag by like a year. By the time we finally made it into my car, all I could do was sigh with relief.

  I made it.

  I reached over the console when we were on the road, resting my hand on Sarah’s thigh with a gentle squeeze. “Are you hungry?” I asked. “How do you feel about me whipping up some of my famous spaghetti when we get home.”

  When we get home.

  I loved the sound of that.

  Sarah glanced at me, a ghost of a smile touching her lips before she looked out the passenger side window again. “I’m not really hungry.”

  I frowned. “Alright. No spaghetti, then.”

  She didn’t respond, and an uneasy silence fell over us as we hit the highway.

  “How was your night?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Busy.”

  I nodded, shifting my hold on the steering wheel. When we’d climbed in my car after work, waiting until everyone was gone from the back lot, I thought I’d felt something off. Sarah wasn’t smiling, or bouncing around the way she had been the first half of her shift. She was quiet, and reserved, and seemed to be lost in her own little universe.

  I wondered if something happened, if she heard more about Wolfgang getting his award. The thought made me squeeze the wheel tighter, jaw aching as I reached forward to turn on the music. Kings of Leon filled the silence between us, and I hoped giving her some space on the way home would help her clear her mind.

  I couldn’t go back and undo what he did to her.

  That was the hardest pill to swallow. If I could go back in time and change anything, it would be that — and I had plenty of things in my own life that I should have wanted to use my go back in time card for. Still, nothing mattered as much as she did.

  But I didn’t have a time machine.

  All I could do was be here for her now, help her see how beautiful she was — inside and out. I could hold her, and kiss her, and talk to her, and listen to her. I could believe in her and her dreams. Randall had tried to remind me of my role in her life, and whether he agreed with it or not, this was my new role.

  All I wanted was to help her feel whole again, the same way she’d done for me.

  When we pulled up to the house, I threw the car in drive and jumped out, jogging over to open Sarah’s door for her. She smiled, letting me help her out, but then her hands immediately slid into the pockets of her work vest. I held my hand at the small of her back, not quite touching her, just guiding her inside.

  Rojo barked as I fiddled with the key, and when I finally got the door open, she bounded out, nearly knocking Sarah over in an attempt to lick her to death. Sarah finally smiled at that, bending to rub Rojo behind the ears before the dog sprinted off the porch and out to the grass to pee. As soon as she was done, she bolted back inside, and was already chewing on her favorite toy when Sarah and I made it into the foyer.

  I chuckled, watching Rojo from the doorway. “You know, for how much I fought you on getting that damn dog, I can’t imagine my life without her now.”

  Sarah’s eyes sparkled, but her smile was weak. “I told you so.”

  I dropped my wallet and keys on the table, turning to pull Sarah into my arms as soon as my hands were free. She was stiff, arms at her side as mine wrapped around her waist.

  “Hey,” I whispered, dropping my forehead to hers. She closed her eyes at the contact, a heavy breath flowing through her chest. “Are you okay?”

  She swallowed, a small nod her only response, eyes still closed.

  “Sarah?” I asked, pulling back so I could see her.

  She opened her eyes, and I hated the way she looked at me in that moment — like she was unsure, like she didn’t want to be in my arms. I knew the look well. It had to be hard for her just as it was for me, to let someone in, to trust that someone could make the pain go away.

  I didn’t know why she was hurting, but I hoped my news would make her smile again.

  “Can I kiss you?” I asked, voice soft and low.

  She blew out a long breath, shaking her head before she finally smiled — really smiled. “Yes,” she breathed, and her arms moved from her side to wrap around my neck. I tugged her closer, searching her eyes before I lowered my lips gently to hers.

  I sucked in a breath at the contact, at the sweet connection of her lips on mine. They were so soft, giving, plump and perfect. I took my time, peppering her with soft, slow kisses until she submitted more, opening her mouth, tongue seeking mine. And when I’d kissed her thoroughly, I pulled back on a grin, and she shook her head, burying it in my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I just… I had a rough night. I’m all up in my head.”

  I kissed the head she referred to with a chuckle. “It’s okay. You are not required to be happy all the time, and I’m here for both the good and the bad days. Okay?”

  She nodded against my chest, pulling back on a smile. “I lied. I do want spaghetti.”

  I laughed at that, sliding my hand down until it wrapped around hers. “Come on,” I said, tugging her toward the kitchen. “Let me feed my girl.”

  Sarah followed me into the kitchen, and once she was set up at the bar, I poured her a glass of water and handed her my phone to play her choice of music. She was still thumbing through my playlist as I started pulling ingredients out of the pantry.

  “So, I have some exciting news.”

  “Oh?” she asked, eyes on my phone as she swiped. She landed on Debussy, and I smiled when La Mer floated through the kitchen.

  I nodded, filling a large pot with water before placing it on the stove. I clicked the burner on, crossing the kitchen to stand at the island with her. “I do. Are you ready for it?”

  She set my phone down, bracing her hands on the granite with a look of resolution and a confident nod. “Ready, sir.”

  I smiled, but the longer I looked at her — at this amazing, resilient woman — the more my gaze shifted to one of admiration. Not just for her unspeakable beauty, for her bold, unapologetic way she carried herself, but for every scar she wore proudly.

  I reached forward, taking both her hands in mine as I leveled my eyes with hers.

  “We’ve been working together all summer long,” I said, smoothing my thumbs over her wrists. “I’ve watched you take not just steps, but leaps and bounds overcoming your injury. Your technique was good when I first met you, but now? It’s spectacular. You are spectacular,” I amended. “And strong. And vulnerable. And now, when you play, I am held captive from beginning to end. I don’t even feel like an adequate teacher anymore,” I confessed. “Because I can’t find a single thing to critique. I am just completely enamored by you, by what you can accomplish, what you can bring to life when you sit at the piano.” I shook my head. “I am so proud of you, Sarah.”

  Her brows tugged together, and she squeezed my hands. “Such a softie.”

  I laughed. “I know. I blame you.”

  Sarah chuckled at that, tilting her head to one side as her eyes searched mine. “So, what’s the news, then?”

  I bit my lip. “Well… I have this friend. James Conroy. He was a grad student when I was a freshman at Juilliard, and one of my greatest mentors. The man is a legend, an absolute anomaly when it comes to the piano. I’ve never seen anyone play like him before. He’s played at Carnegie several times, is one of the most sought-after concert pianists in the city, and is, in my opinion, the best teacher and connection anyone could ever ask for in our industry.” I paused, squeezing her hands as my grin doubled in size. I couldn’t help it, the excitement was killing me. “I called him today and told him about you.”

  Sarah’s face fell, dark lashes fluttering over her cheeks as she blinked several times.

  “He wants to work with you, Sarah,” I said, practically buzzing. “I told him about you and where you want to be and all the work we’ve done. He wants to help. He’ll be your mentor. In New York City.” I said every word slowly, making sure it was all sinking in. Judging by Sarah’s stunned fac
e, I knew she was just as excited as I was. “This is it. This is what you’ve worked for. And I truly believe that it won’t take you long working with him before you’ll be on that Ronald O. Perelman stage at Carnegie Hall.” I squeezed her hands again, lifting them to my lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. “And I’ll be in the front row, if you’ll have me.”

  Sarah stared at me so long I thought she hadn’t heard me.

  “Sarah, did you hear what I said?”

  She blinked, tugging her hands free from mine and sitting up straight. “I heard you.”

  “I know it’s a lot,” I said, smiling. “But, you earned this. You have worked so fucking hard — not just this summer, but before you even came here. Before I even knew you existed. And now, you’re one step closer to making your dream come true.”

  Her nose flared, tears flooding her eyes before she brought her gaze to where her hands rested in her lap. She shook her head, silent for a long while before she lifted her head again. And when her eyes found mine, I found I couldn’t breathe.

  Those weren’t tears of happiness.

  “So, that’s it, then?” she asked, little shoulders lifting in a shrug before they fell again. “You’ve had enough of me? You get me naked in your bed and then magically, you have this connection in New York?”

  My face fell. “What? No, that’s not it at all, Sarah,” I said, reaching for her.

  She yanked away from me, nearly falling off the stool before she stood to catch herself. She wrapped her arms around her like a shield, backing away even farther.

  “Hey, Sarah. Thanks for the fun. I got you this connection in the city. See ya,” she mocked.

  “That’s not—”

  “I can’t believe this,” she said, shaking her head as two tears slipped free. I ached to wipe them away, to pull her into me and quiet her anxiety. But she stepped farther and farther from me, like I was everything causing her pain in that moment.

  Perhaps I was.

  “This is exactly what I said I would never do,” she choked, finally looking at me again. “This is what he wanted. It’s what I walked away from. And now here I am. I slept my way up the ladder, just like he said I would.” She sniffed, shaking her head. “It has nothing to do with my talent.”

 

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