“Do you want me to take you home?” she asked as she unloaded her groceries.
Vanessa pouted.
“Are you trying to get rid of me? Joe can swing by and pick me up on his way home from work as long as you don’t mind me taking up space at your place for a while.”
“I could use the distraction.”
They hadn’t been in the apartment for more than five minutes before Vanessa was tearing open a bag of cookies and filling a large glass with milk.
“I thought I was making you lunch.”
“You are.” Vanessa grinned and shoved a cookie in her mouth. “I’m pregnant. Leave me alone,” she mumbled around the cookie.
Kennedy tried to stifle her laughter as she watched her waddle out of the kitchen and plop onto the couch.
“I know you’re laughing at me!” Vanessa shouted from the other room.
Kennedy giggled and put away the groceries before throwing together a couple of sandwiches.
“Are you seeing Brooks tonight?” her friend asked around a mouthful of turkey and Swiss.
Kennedy picked at her sandwich, pulling off pieces and rolling them between her fingers, and frowned.
“He’s working,” she replied, shoving one of the broken pieces into her mouth.
“I don’t want to piss you off, Kennedy, but I really don’t understand what you’re thinking.”
“Join the club,” she muttered, pushing the plate away.
“You know you’re playing with fire here, right?”
“I know.” She frowned. “I guess I just feel like I owe it to our relationship to try and see if he can change. I dunno.” She shrugged.
“And how do you think Memphis is going to feel about that? You practically told him you loved him—”
“No I didn’t!”
“And yet you’re still with the boyfriend.”
“Vanessa, please.” Kennedy shot her a pleading look.
“I just don’t want to see you get hurt. Or Memphis. Or even Brooks, for that matter,” she said.
“I don’t want to hurt them, either.”
“But you can’t stay with Brooks just because it’s what he wants. You need to do what’s best for you, Kennedy.”
Later when Joe came to pick his wife up, Vanessa pulled Kennedy into a hug.
“Promise me you won’t settle, Kennedy,” she whispered against her ear.
Kennedy pulled back and smiled.
“When have I ever settled?”
Joe kissed her cheek before wrapping an arm around his wife’s shoulders and leading her to the elevator. They huddled together, and Vanessa giggled at something he whispered to her as he kissed her neck and reached to rub her protruding stomach. Kennedy watched them wistfully, feeling envious.
She closed the door, locking it for the night, and crawled into bed early. She checked her phone, hoping she had missed a call or text from Memphis, but there was nothing. Impulsively, she typed that she hoped he was keeping warm since she wasn’t there to make him hot, and sent it.
Kennedy sat staring at the cell phone screen, impatiently drumming her fingers along the side of the tiny device as she waited for his reply. Five minutes. Ten. Fifteen minutes passed before she finally gave up and set it aside.
She clicked off the nightstand lamp and pulled the covers up to her chin, staring into the darkness.
It was normal for her to go days without hearing from Memphis while he was working; that was true. But it wasn’t usual for her to not get a response from him when she contacted him. Even if it was just a quick ‘lol’ and ‘good night’, he always replied with something.
Maybe he was freaked by his mild confession the other night and wanted to put some space between them. Maybe now that she was gone and he had time to think about what really happened, he realized how big a mistake it was and didn’t know how to deal with it.
Her stomach rolled at the idea that he could be intentionally avoiding her and trying to push her away so he wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout of their actions.
To hell if he was going to do that!
Kennedy reached over and groped for the phone in the dark, lighting up the screen when she punched in his number. It didn’t even ring—just went straight to voice mail.
She hung up without leaving a message and put the phone back on the stand. His phone could be dead. He could be working. Maybe he was sleeping. She glanced at the clock and frowned. Highly unlikely.
Maybe Ruby Lips got her claws into him.
Kennedy punched the pillow at that thought and tried to get comfortable again. There could be any number of reasons why he hadn’t called or why he wasn’t answering her, she reminded herself. It didn’t automatically mean something was wrong.
She tossed and turned for an hour and was about to drift off when her cell rang. She bolted upright and reached for the phone so quickly she almost toppled out of bed.
“Memphis?” she answered, not bothering to look at the ID.
“Uh, no, it’s me,” Brooks replied.
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped in disappointment, and she flopped against the headboard.
“Don’t sound so excited,” he said dryly.
“I’m sorry. I just haven’t heard from him in a few days, and I’m worried something might be wrong,” she tried to explain with half-truths.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” Brooks assured her, dismissing her concerns. “I was just calling to ask if you wanted to go to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Dinner?”
“Yeah. I’m off early if nothing comes up and thought we could do something,” he said hopefully.
“Um, yeah, sure. Dinner. Sounds good.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up around seven?”
“Okay. See you then.”
She disconnected before he could say anything else and tossed the phone on the bed beside her, annoyance, frustration, and confusion darkening her mood.
It was easy to promise Vanessa she wouldn’t settle. How could she when she didn’t even know what she wanted?
Kennedy spent most of the next day at the studio trying to work on the clay pieces Ryder wanted. Nothing seemed to look right, and after hours of failed attempts she gave up and went home to get ready for her date with Brooks.
She tried calling Memphis again but there was still no answer. She debated calling the lodge to see if everything was okay, but she was pretty sure that was going too far. Besides, if something had happened to him, she would be the first person to know.
Kennedy showered, washing off the clay and smell of paint, and changed into a black skirt and pink blouse. She wasn’t sure where Brooks was taking her, but the outfit was dressy enough for a nice restaurant but not too dressy if they just ended up going for burgers.
She would actually prefer the burgers rather than have to sit through a meal at a fancy romantic restaurant with him.
Unfortunately, that’s just what Brooks had in mind.
Kennedy suppressed a groan when he pulled into The Vine’s parking lot. The cozy Italian restaurant was where he’d taken her on their first date, and it had become a favorite to them over the past two years. They hadn’t been there in months, though. Brooks had always been too busy with work.
“I thought maybe an old favorite would be just the thing tonight,” he said.
“Pulling out all the stops, I see.” She thought if she was in a playful mood, things would be okay tonight.
“Maybe.” He flashed a smile. “Is it working?”
“Too early to tell.”
He opened the door for her and laid his hand on the small of her back. When she didn’t step away from his touch, he pressed his hand a little more firmly against her and led her into the restaurant.
As Brooks greeted and made small talk with the hostess, Kennedy slipped away to the bathroom. She stared at her pale complexion, just noticing for the first time how depressed and miserable she looked compared to a few days earlier in Alaska.
She tried pinching
her cheeks to bring some color to them, but the end result made her look like she had a rash. She sighed, took out her lip gloss, and swiped the brush across her mouth. She dropped the tube back into her purse and turned to leave just as the door swung open. She was nearly knocked over by a blonde with a bad dye job in four-inch heels and a dress so short she was on the verge of indecent exposure.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” She grabbed Kennedy’s elbow to keep her from falling.
“It’s fine.” Kennedy forced a smile and checked out her shoes again. “Wow. You could use those things as weapons.”
The blonde laughed and glanced down at her shoes as well.
“Well, they’re definitely killing my feet,” she said. She moved out of the way and held the door open for her. “Sorry again. Enjoy your evening.”
Kennedy thanked her and found Brooks waiting at the bar. The hostess escorted them to their table, handed him a wine list, and placed two menus on the table before scampering off.
“What are you in the mood for?” Brooks asked, scanning the list.
“Whatever you want,” she replied, picking up a menu.
She was looking over her dinner choices when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the blonde with the killer heels weaving her way through the tables. Kennedy looked up and almost tipped over her water glass as the menu slipped from her hands when she saw who the woman was with.
The menu landed on her plate, causing it to clatter against her cutlery. Curious eyes of the other diners looked her way at the racket she’d made, and before she could look away or make some excuse to get up and leave, Memphis’s eyes locked with hers.
Chapter 16
Kennedy stared at him, the surprise on his face mirroring hers. What was he doing home? Wasn’t he supposed to still be in Alaska?
Memphis opened his mouth and then quickly shut it, as if he was going to say something but remembered they were in a crowded restaurant with a handful of tables separating them. He glanced from her to Brooks, and even with so much space between them, she could see him press his lips together tightly the way he always did when he was annoyed or frustrated.
He looked back at her with hard eyes, and for a split second she felt very small and extremely guilty.
You’re not the only one here with someone else. He’s too busy to return your calls but not so busy to take out Botox Barbie.
Kennedy slowly slid her eyes over to his dinner companion and returned his accusing glare.
“Are you all right?” Brooks asked, looking at her both concerned and confused.
Kennedy dragged her eyes away from Memphis and looked down at the table. The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on her, and she was having trouble catching her breath. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, trying to slow down her pounding heart and keep the nausea at bay.
“Kennedy?”
She forced her eyes open at the alarm in his voice, and nodded.
“I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little lightheaded. I’m just going to run to the bathroom and splash some water on my face,” she said, quickly standing.
“Do you want me to come with you? Are you all right to go alone?”
“No. I’m fine.”
She fled the table and hurried to the bathroom. She leaned over a sink, grabbing onto the counter to steady herself so she wouldn’t crumple into a weeping ball of mush on the bathroom floor. Her hands trembled as badly as her legs, and she wanted nothing more than to give in, curl up into a ball, and cry.
What the hell was he doing here with that woman? He’d fed her some bullshit line about their time together meaning everything, flaked on her, and then showed up at her restaurant with some tart.
Kennedy stared at her ashen reflection and bit her quivering lip. She released her grip on the counter and ran her hands under the tap, wetting her palms and patting her face with the cold water.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Memphis wasn’t supposed to be canoodling with any woman but her.
But it’s okay for you to string along your boyfriend?
Kennedy ground her teeth together and glared at her reflection in the mirror. She didn’t need reminding that she was also in the wrong, but it was different, wasn’t it? She was there with the man she’d been dating for two years; he was there with some floozy he must have just met because Kennedy had never seen her before. She wasn’t out picking up random men.
This explained why she hadn’t heard from him. Who knew how long he had been home and avoiding her.
Tears stung her eyes at that realization. Was she that easy to cast aside to him? Was she really no better than the bitter and discarded?
A ball of disappointment and dejection settled in her stomach. Memphis was supposed to be better than this. She was supposed to be better than this. What the hell had they become together?
She waited until her legs no longer felt like giving out on her and the nausea passed before gathering her wits and leaving the bathroom. She hadn’t made it more than two feet before she was pulled backward and yanked into the handicapped-accessible bathroom.
The lock clicked into place just as she spun around and glared at her captor.
“What do you want?” she demanded. “Let me out of here.”
Memphis leaned against the door and folded his arms across his chest.
“You want out? Make me get out of the way,” he challenged.
“I think a good swift kick in the balls will do the trick.”
Memphis’s lips quirked up in a lazy smile, and he looked at her, clearly amused.
“Do you really want to injure what gives you such pleasure?”
Kennedy scowled at him.
“Me and everyone else,” she remarked.
“What are you talking about?”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. “Where did you meet the stripper? Or is she a working girl?”
She wasn’t sure what reaction she expected him to have, but doubling over in laughter wasn’t it.
“What the fuck is so funny?”
“You think I’m here on a date?”
“Well, let’s see. You’re back home but never called me. You haven’t responded to any of my messages, and I just caught you at a cozy little restaurant with another woman,” she said, checking off her fingers. “Yep. Sounds like a date to me.”
“You caught me out with another woman? I wasn’t aware I was sneaking around.”
Kennedy flinched. Of course he wasn’t sneaking around. You had to be with someone in order to sneak around on them.
“You’re right, Memphis. You have no reason to have to sneak.” She tried to push past him.
“Now hold on.” He grabbed her upper arms and stopped her from pushing at him. “It occurs to me I’m not the only one here who appears to be on a date.” Kennedy pulled out of his grasp and took a step back. “Am I?”
“It’s dinner,” she said, unsure of how to answer questions regarding what was going on between her and Brooks.
“Dinner with another man.” Memphis smirked. “A man you said you were breaking up with. Apparently, I misunderstood something.”
“Well, join the club.”
“You really have no faith in me do you?” he asked.
Kennedy snapped her eyes to him, and her heart bled at the wounded look on his face.
“What am I supposed to think?” she whispered.
“That’s your problem, Kennedy. Stop fucking thinking and assuming things, and ask.”
She turned her face away stubbornly.
“Claire, the woman you think is a stripper, is the new editor-in-chief at the magazine. She wanted to get to know me since we’ll be working together a lot,” he said.
“Conveniently,” Kennedy muttered.
“She’s also a lesbian, if that makes you feel better.”
Kennedy looked at him out of the corner of her eye and saw he was dead serious.
“Really?”
“Yeah. She made t
hat very clear up front so I wouldn’t try and hit on her.”
Kennedy snorted, and Memphis took a step closer to her. She tried to back up, but she hit the wall and was trapped.
“I got home today —this morning, actually,” he continued, his voice growing lower the more he spoke. “The reason I didn’t call and tell you, or respond to your calls or texts, is because my cell is at the bottom of a hot spring in Alaska.”
Kennedy scoffed.
“Sounds like the dog ate my homework excuse.”
“I was at the springs and was going to send you a picture of it when I dropped the damn phone in the water.” He shrugged. “You can believe it or not, but it’s the truth. If I was going to lie, you know me well enough to know I’d come up with something a lot more clever.” He rested one hand on the wall behind her and leaned toward her. “Now you tell me what you’re doing here with him.”
Kennedy nervously swallowed.
“Having dinner.”
“You have to do better than that, Kennedy. Did you break up with him?”
“No,” she answered meekly.
“Does he know about us?”
“No!”
“Are you going to break up with him?”
“I was. I am,” she corrected quickly and glared at him. “It’s not an easy situation to be in, Memphis. I came home intending to end things, but then he showed up and practically begged me to let him try again. What was I supposed to do?”
“What do you want to do?”
She looked away and remained silent.
“So let me get this straight. You can continue to fuck your boyfriend, but I’m supposed to stay home and wait for you to make up your mind?” Memphis asked sharply.
Kennedy snapped her head back to look at him.
“Fuck you, Memphis!” She poked his chest. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t let him put a hand on me.” She ducked away from him and only turned back once she reached the door. “If that’s what you think, then you can do whatever the hell you want. What the fuck do I care?”
She wasn’t quick enough to unlock the door and leave before Memphis grabbed her and spun her around, pressing her against the door. He grabbed her wrists and held them to her sides while she struggled against him.
Risking It All Page 23
