Tinsel

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Tinsel Page 15

by Perry, Devney


  “Not too busy to visit.” Dakota stood and crossed the small room, taking the check from Arthur. “I wish we could stay longer, but I’ve got to work this afternoon. The roads were slow on our way up.”

  “Go. Don’t let me keep you. Next time, maybe we’ll fit in a quick game.” Arthur nodded to the chessboard set up on the dining room table off the living room.

  “I’d like that.” Dakota shook Arthur’s hand, pulling him up from the recliner.

  “Will I see you again?” Arthur asked me as he followed us to the door.

  “I’m afraid not.” I gave him a sad smile. “I live in New York. I’m just tagging along with Dakota for a few days.”

  One more day to be exact. Thea and Logan were due back tomorrow. The thought of leaving so soon made my stomach twist.

  “Well, it was nice to meet you, even for a brief moment. And thank you for delivering my groceries.” He held out his hand, his fingers shaking a little. He was too far away from me so I stepped up and took his hand.

  “Call if you need anything at all,” Dakota said.

  “I will.”

  With that, Dakota opened the front door and waved me outside. Then he shut it behind him and handed me the keys to his truck. “I need to go over to the other unit.”

  “Okay.” I took the keys then started down the sidewalk as Dakota stepped into the snowy yard and went to the other unit.

  The vibrations from his fist pounding on the front door echoed down the street.

  A few seconds later, the door whipped open and a tall, thin man in jeans and a dirty white T-shirt jerked up his chin at Dakota. I couldn’t hear everything Dakota said, but as I shuffled to the truck, I glanced over my shoulder and saw the other man’s face twisted in an angry scowl.

  His eyes darted my way just as I reached the truck. He was staring at my ass as he asked Dakota, “Who’s your lady?”

  Dakota ignored the question, turning and leaving the man on the stoop alone. But not without one last warning. “Keep it down. Or you’re out.”

  The man shrugged, his eyes still raking over my legs, giving me the creeps.

  I yanked the door open, getting in as quickly as possible. When I was closed in, I shuddered, wanting another shower.

  Dakota wasn’t far behind me, throwing his door open and getting into the driver’s seat. “Fucking asshole. I need to kick his ass out.”

  Dakota pulled away from the curb, navigating us down the quiet neighborhood street with homes similar to his property. Three houses down, two kids were attempting to build a snowman. Another three down, a dad was outside pulling his little one in a blue sled.

  His creeper renter did not belong here.

  “Was he always like that? Even when he moved in?”

  “Yep.” He sighed. “That place was a mess when I bought it. The guy selling it wanted out of it bad so he slashed the price as long as I let his friend stay in that unit. I agreed because I wanted the deal. But now I wish I had kicked him out or found someplace else to buy. He’s been nothing but a headache for the last six months. Every time I come up here it’s something.”

  “And you can’t evict him?”

  “I can. I should have already. But now I’ve waited too long. Montana has some pretty strict regulations about evicting someone in the winter months. Since he pays his rent, I doubt I’ll be able to get him out until spring. And I need the money. I can’t have a property sitting empty all winter, because no one wants to move in the snow.”

  “Sorry.” Being a landlord sounded, well, awful. Unless you had only nice tenants.

  “Lesson learned.”

  “What’s Arthur’s story?” I asked.

  “He’s a great guy. He doesn’t have family close, so I come up about every week or ten days and bring him junk food since he’s homebound.”

  “Why’s he homebound?”

  “He’s blind.”

  My mouth fell open. “What? No way.”

  Arthur had navigated his house without using a cane. He hadn’t touched the walls for guidance or to get his bearings. He’d walked right up to his chair, sitting without feeling for it first. Though that did explain the sunglasses.

  Dakota nodded. “He’s been blind since Vietnam.”

  “Wow. It’s really kind of you to bring him groceries.”

  “Like I said, he’s a great guy. Grew up in Kalispell. His kids left ages ago for their own lives. He just doesn’t want to leave. One of them saw my ad for a place and they jumped on it. They have a service to clean and help him cook. But the cook only does healthy food. I bring Arthur the good stuff.”

  I giggled, thinking of the cookies, popcorn and potato chips we’d bought earlier. “Where are your other properties?”

  “All right in this same neighborhood.” Dakota took a left down another side street. About halfway down the block, he pointed to a green single-family home. “That one there.”

  “It’s cute.”

  “I’m not going to tell the bodybuilder who rents from me that you called his house cute.”

  I smiled. “And the other? You have three, right?”

  “Yep.” He drove down the rest of the block and on to the next one. This time the house he pointed out was on my side and painted a soft beige with chocolate trim. “That one was my first. It’s the one that makes me the least amount of money.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because the previous owner is the tenant. She’s a single mom with two teenaged boys. The bank was going to foreclose on her, so she put it up for sale before they could. I bought it, rented it back to her at a discount, and she works two jobs to pay her bills. She’s never missed a rent check. She didn’t want to lose the house where her kids are growing up.”

  “That’s an amazing thing for you to do.”

  He shrugged. “She just got down on her luck. It happens.”

  “Thank you,” I told him.

  “For what?”

  “For bringing me here today. And for showing me your properties.” It was a glimpse deeper into the man behind the wheel, confirming what I already knew.

  Dakota Magee wasn’t a good man. He was the good man. I doubted I’d ever find another who would live up to his standards.

  “I know they aren’t much. But I’m proud of them.”

  “You should be. You’ll accomplish great things.”

  “I don’t know about great. But I have my goals.”

  I wanted goals.

  I didn’t need to conquer the world—I’d leave that to Aubrey. I just wanted more excitement in my life, more happiness and fulfillment. More pride.

  I wanted to be more like Dakota.

  He was one of a kind, a man who knew down to his fiber the difference between right and wrong. A man who made his own destiny.

  A man who I would miss terribly when our affair was over.

  “Is today your last day?” Wayne asked me from across the bar.

  I gave him a sad smile. “Yes, Thea and Logan should be back tonight.” Then I’d be leaving tomorrow morning.

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to miss sweeping floors and wiping up spilled beer.”

  I smiled. “Maybe just a little.”

  The jukebox changed to a faster country song, and Wayne stood from his stool. “I haven’t heard this one in ages. How about a farewell jitterbug?”

  “Huh?”

  “The jitterbug. Want to dance?”

  Dakota laughed from over by the register, where he was taking stock of the liquor bottles in a spiral notebook. “Watch your feet. The last time a woman danced with Wayne, she almost lost a toe.”

  “To be fair, that woman was drunk, and she stepped on me first.” Wayne got off his stool, waving me around the bar.

  I set down the glass I’d been rinsing and hurried around to his side.

  Wayne grabbed my hands, holding them out at our sides. Then he pulled us together, me going to one side of his body before stepping back. Then he did it again, turning us in a circle.


  I’d learned the jitterbug as a kid when my ballet teacher had been on maternity leave and her substitute had wanted to teach us some other basics, like the waltz, mambo and two-step. That substitute had been fired not long after the lead instructor’s maternity leave had ended.

  And even though those lessons had been a long time ago, it wasn’t hard to follow Wayne as he pulled me around and spun me in a few easy twirls. By the time the song ended, we were laughing and smiling, both out of breath.

  “Thanks,” I panted.

  “Thank you.” Wayne kissed the back of my hand, bowing as he let me go. “I’d better get on home. It was wonderful to spend time with you, Sofia. Don’t be a stranger the next time you’re in town.”

  “It was lovely spending time with you too.”

  “I hope we get to dance another day.” Wayne went to his stool to collect his coat and hat. Then with one last wave to Dakota, he was out the door.

  My eyes flooded as he disappeared outside. I wiped the tears away before they could fall, determined not to let myself cry over something so silly. It wasn’t like I would never see Wayne again. I came to Lark Cove to visit.

  But he’d been so nice to me that first day when I’d broken all those glasses. He’d been the first in a long, long time who’d seen me as something different.

  So had Dakota.

  “You know what I think is interesting?” he asked.

  I swallowed the burn in my throat and blinked away the tears before turning around. “What?”

  “Of all the lessons you’ve told me about in the last ten days, dancing is the only thing you still do.”

  Was that true? My mother had insisted that all of us be involved and busy. My extracurricular activities had always been on the artsy side. Language. Music. Dance.

  That last one was really the only one that had stuck into adulthood.

  What did that mean?

  Before I had a chance to ask, the door to the bar opened again and three children rushed inside, followed by their parents.

  Parents who were back from their trip to Paris.

  “So where are your suitcases?” Thea asked.

  I blushed as she handed me a glass of wine.

  After they’d come to the bar this evening, it had been a whirlwind. The kids had been anxious to go home with their parents. Thea and Logan had been excited to be with the kids. Before I’d even had a chance to say a proper good-bye to Dakota, they’d swept me along with them.

  He was at the bar, finishing the night alone.

  I hadn’t even thought about my suitcases in all the commotion. They were still lying in the corner of his bedroom.

  Dakota and I both knew today was my last day in Lark Cove, yet neither of us had thought to pack my things. We both knew I’d be in his bed tonight.

  One last night.

  “They’re at Dakota’s house.”

  She choked on her sip of wine and coughed. “What?”

  “I’ve been staying there.” Since I was planning on going back tonight, there was no use in denying it. And I wasn’t going to pretend Dakota and I hadn’t had a glorious affair.

  Logan would have an opinion. I wasn’t sure how Thea was going to react. But right now, it didn’t matter. The kids were in bed. The bar was probably quiet, and Dakota was likely closing it down. They could lecture me later.

  Right now, I just wanted to leave.

  As if he knew what I was thinking, a truck rumbled up the driveway outside. I shot off my chair in the living room and rushed to a window, peering outside in the dark and seeing Dakota’s truck pull up.

  “Get out of here.” Thea smiled, sighing as she sipped more wine.

  “Have a good night.” I smiled back, hurrying out of the room. “Oh, and Thea?” I paused, turning back. “Thank you. I’m glad I trusted you.”

  “Me too.”

  With one last smile, I ran to the front door just as my brother was coming out of Charlie’s room down the hallway.

  “Where are you going?” he asked.

  I ignored him.

  Thea appeared in the entryway, her wine in hand. “Do we need to take you to the airport tomorrow?”

  “Yes, please.” I pulled on the coat of hers I’d been borrowing all week. “I’ll be back in the morning before eight.”

  “What?” Logan crossed his arms over his chest. “Where are you going?”

  “Have fun.” Thea winked at me as I kissed Logan’s cheek then opened the door.

  “Sofia—”

  I shut the door on him, knowing Thea would explain. Then I hurried to Dakota’s truck, going straight for the passenger side door and hopping up.

  The second I was inside, Dakota’s long arms reached for me, taking my face and pulling my lips to his. He kissed me with abandon, his tongue diving into my mouth and retracing the same path he’d made a hundred times in our time together.

  We were starved and reckless, lost in the hot and wet kiss that went on for what felt like hours.

  Finally, he broke away but kept my cheeks in his hands. “I didn’t bring your suitcases.”

  “I don’t want my suitcases.”

  Not yet.

  He kissed me again, slanting my face one way as he devoured me again. When I was breathless and aching for more, he drove us to his home.

  Neither of us slept as we savored the last hours together, linked until the sun began to rise.

  I didn’t cry as I packed my suitcases or after Dakota kissed me one last time in his truck. I didn’t cry as I hugged my family good-bye at the airport. I didn’t even cry as the jet lifted into the air, leaving Montana behind. I saved all of my tears for the moment I stepped inside my penthouse apartment in New York City, alone.

  My holiday vacation was really over.

  And the life I’d returned to wasn’t much of a life at all.

  “Is there anything in particular you’d like for lunch today, Ms. Kendrick?”

  “No, thank you, Carrie.” I set down the magazine on my lap and smiled at my personal chef as she stood outside the living room. “Whatever you’d like to make will be lovely.”

  “Your trainer called me this morning and mentioned we needed to limit carbs for a few weeks. With the weather being so cold, I was thinking a variety of soups, if that would please you.”

  I frowned. When I’d had my workout this morning, my trainer had been less than pleased when I’d stepped on the scale. Ten days in Montana of eating whatever I wanted had “softened” things.

  When I’d gotten home two days ago, I’d contemplated asking Carrie to cook only healthy foods. Instead, I’d decided to wallow. So I’d given her an extra two days paid vacation and asked my doorman for recommendations for the best, greasiest takeout places in Manhattan.

  “Miss?” Carrie cleared her throat. “The soups?”

  “That’s fine.” I sighed. The sooner I got back into my regular diet, regular schedule, regular . . . life, the sooner I’d snap out of this somber mood. “Thank you.”

  “Can I get you anything? I’d be happy to call your massage therapist or get you scheduled for a facial. You have one tomorrow, but I’m sure they’d be able to move you up.”

  “No, but thank you. Tomorrow will be fine.”

  Carrie had started off as just my chef, but her job had expanded over the last year. She actually did the tasks I paid my assistant to do, like coordinate with the housekeeper, give my schedule to my driver and arrange for my laundry to be done.

  My paid assistant, Sandrine, had become quite lax in her duties over the last year. She was using me. And she was using Carrie, knowing that Carrie would cover for her shortcomings.

  “I’ll just be off to the market.” Carrie turned for the kitchen, but before she got too far, I called her back.

  “I appreciate all that you do for me.”

  Her entire body froze, like she was expecting my next statement to be you’re fired.

  I smiled widely, hoping to ease her fears, and tossed my magazine aside before gestur
ing to the chair across from my sofa. “Would you mind?”

  Carrie hurried to the seat, sitting on its edge with her hands placed in her lap. She had better posture than I did after years of etiquette lessons.

  “I’d like to offer you a job.”

  She blinked. “A job?”

  “I’m consolidating staff.” For a decision I’d made a second ago, my voice was surprisingly confident. “I’d like to hire you on full-time. Benefits. Four weeks paid vacation. And I’ll pay you three times what I do now, but you’d have to drop your other client.”

  Carrie also cooked for another man in this building, a loathsome gentleman who didn’t hold the elevator and always smelled of stale cigar smoke. He paid her well, at least I assumed so, which was why she worked for him. Plus, there was the added convenience of us living in the same building. But I’d overheard her on the phone about six months ago complaining that he was a pig.

  I’d had enough pigs in my life. Carrie shouldn’t have to deal with them either, especially since it was time to make a change.

  She thought about it for a minute, but then the corner of her mouth turned up. “What is the job?”

  I scooted forward on the couch, already excited about this possibility. “You’ll still have to cook, and I’d like you to keep coordinating with the cleaning and laundry staff. In addition, you’d coordinate my travel and any preparation for events. You’d make appointments for me when needed, that sort of thing. In short, you’ll assume all of the duties that Sandrine does now.”

  Carrie rolled her eyes at my personal assistant’s name but caught it halfway through the loop. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” I wanted to roll my eyes too. “So . . . think about it. Let me know.”

  “I’ll put in my notice downstairs today.”

  “Oh, uh . . . do you need to talk about it first with . . .” A husband? Boyfriend? I didn’t even know if she was in a relationship.

  “My wife has been begging me to quit him for years.” She pointed to the floor, where her other client lived five floors down. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled with this change.”

  “Wonderful.” I stood from the couch and held out my hand. “Then as your first official duty as my new assistant, please get in touch with my business manager and tell him to give you a raise.”

 

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