Noah loomed over her. “Maybe I’ll support his decisions without trying to take them over.”
Aaargh. “I’m not taking over, and I have no desire to do so in the future. The less I have to do with whatever you and Lincoln arrange, the better. I’m simply suggesting you sit down with an attorney or an accountant and draft an agreement. To protect your assets. And his.” She softened. “I understand your concerns, but you can’t treat me like some trespasser here. Lincoln asked for my help, so I’m giving it.”
“Kendra.” Her name sounded like poison he couldn’t wait to spit out. “Stop right now, or we’re both going to regret what happens next.”
She opened her mouth to say more, but he couldn’t force himself to stand there and hear it. He knew, in the more rational depths of his brain, that he was overreacting. Kendra wasn’t Danielle. Kendra wasn’t cajoling him into an investment with her firm, wasn’t trying to get his personal information to set up fake accounts. But he couldn’t do it.
His hands shook, and he shoved them behind his back, unable and unwilling to let her see how close he was to snapping. “I don’t take financial advice from women I’m sleeping with. Period.”
Her head whipped up. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”
He wouldn’t back down. “You heard me. Sex and money don’t go together, and you know it. If there’s one thing I’ve made clear right from the start, it’s that I live the way I live, and nothing changes that. I don’t want Lincoln’s profits. I don’t want you to start thinking that just because some account in my name somewhere is accruing interest—”
Kendra became unnaturally still. Whether because of her skin tone or because of the amount of makeup she wore, it was almost impossible to tell her mood based on normal human cues. She didn’t flush, she didn’t blush, she didn’t blanch. But it didn’t take an expert in body language to realize he’d succeeded in royally pissing her off.
“You still think I’m some kind of frivolous gold digger, don’t you?”
He set his stance more firmly. He’d never said those words. “I think you have different priorities than me—and I think you always have. From the very first day we met, you’ve wanted something from me.”
“Tell me—those priorities, do they include spending all your money and taking expensive vacations in Paris?” She took a step forward, her hips swinging in an exaggerated gesture of seduction. “Because then you’ve got me figured out. I saw this prime real estate out here and thought to myself, you know what would be really fun? I’ll seduce this backwoodsman against his will—and it won’t be easy, because his will is made of stone. Then I’ll pit him against his only friend in the whole world, force him to make love to me even when he’s fighting it with every muscle in his body. And then, when he least expects it, I’ll unleash a convoluted plan to bilk him of his acreage to line my own pockets.” She let loose a shrill, almost brittle laugh. “And here I am. Mission accomplished. I’m wealthy beyond my wildest dreams.”
He dropped his hands to her hips to still them from their relentless swaying, but she hissed and jumped away from his touch. “Don’t you dare,” she said.
“You have to understand how hard this is for me.” He couldn’t keep the pleading note from entering his voice. “After what Danielle did, you know my reservations in involving you in this process. Please don’t blow things out of proportion.”
“I’m not her.”
“I’m fully aware of that.” He reached for her again, but she jumped back, the distance between them growing.
She studied him carefully, moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes. “You know what? I don’t think you are. I think every time you look at me, you see all the things you hated—and loved—about Danielle, and it drives you crazy. You thought you could keep me at arm’s length by hiding behind Lincoln, and then when that didn’t work, you put me in some kind of insulated bubble. I can come visit you, but I have to leave my world at the door. No trace of me can stay behind. No part of me is allowed to make it through.”
All the air left his lungs, his body bent as if someone had punched him in the gut. Not because she was wrong, but because she was right. Her words were true, and there was absolutely nothing he could do to fix it.
Since the night she knocked on his front door and upset his tidy world, Kendra had made him remember all the things he’d loved about Danielle, all the luxuries and delights of a woman who placed herself at the top of her own list. There was something about that lifestyle—flying high, untouchable—that drew him in and trapped him, dangling, where sky met earth.
But she’d also made him remember all the qualities he hated. A life so full of things he failed to notice how empty it was. A constant desire to accumulate more to make up for it. The bewildering sense of loss when all of that was taken away.
No. Kendra wasn’t Danielle, and she’d never use his financial position for her own gain. At least not directly. But she’d drain him all the same. She’d already started.
“From here on out, I’d prefer to make my financial arrangements directly with Lincoln,” he said.
The moisture in her eyes disappeared in a series of rapid blinks and a quick swipe of the back of her hand. She left a trail of smeared black on her cheek. “Congratulations, Noah.”
A celebration had never seemed less in order. “For what?” he asked.
“For finally convincing me that you belong out here. Alone.” She drew a deep, shuddering breath. “You wanted me to let you know when liking you was no longer enough. Well, guess what? We’ve just arrived.”
She paused only to gather her purse. The truth of her accusations hit home when he realized that the purse was all she had to take to entirely eradicate her existence out here. If not for the lingering perfume that would take him months to cover, she’d leave no impression behind. Not even the monogrammed pillowcase she’d tried to sneak in a few weeks ago.
“I’d say we should get together for coffee sometime, but as that would require my return to your kingdom out here in the woods, I’ll go ahead and skip the pleasantries.” She stuck out her hand and held it firm. It was clear she intended to shake on it, to part on good terms, but the back of her hand still bore the black streak of her tears. He found he couldn’t bring himself to touch such a visible manifestation of her pain. He couldn’t bring himself to touch her.
Her hand, when she finally withdrew it, clasped into a knot at her side.
“Good luck with Lincoln,” she said as she left.
The only sound he heard after her car sped away was the roaring of his blood in his ears and the dull, heavy silence of a house that had never felt quite so empty before.
Chapter Twenty
“So, I met this guy.”
Kendra dropped the phone. Part of it was due to the fact that she’d just put lotion on her hands, so things were a bit slippery to start out with, but she’d have been lying to say that shock didn’t also play a role.
She fumbled to pick up the phone and had to make do with grasping it between her wrists. “When you say met a guy, you mean a friend, right? A student? A coworker?”
“His name is Peter.” Nikki squealed. “And, get this, he’s a pediatrician, or he will be as soon as he graduates. I told Mom, and she was so excited she hung up on me. Dad had to call later to assure me she was okay. He’s six foot three, Kendra. I can wear my tallest heels and I don’t even reach his chin.”
Heels meant a date. A date meant they’d probably had sex. Sex meant...oh, no. “Did you break up with Lincoln?”
“We-ell...” Nikki’s breathy, high-pitched excitement abated. “That’s kind of why I’m calling.”
That, in and of itself, wasn’t a surprise. Lincoln was the only reason anyone called her anymore. Did she know where Matt could find him? Had she heard the latest news about his new office? Was she still seei
ng that recluse friend of his?
The answers were easy. No. No. No.
But the calls were better than the silence. Her life had been such a blur of Lincoln’s problems and Noah’s house lately, she’d failed to notice how stripped down the rest of her had become. She was exhausted. Deflated. Sad.
And the things that used to bring her comfort—drinking, dancing, slapping on a smile and new moisturizer—failed to elicit anything but a headache and an allergic reaction. She was back to looking in the mirror and seeing only disparate parts, some of them shattered beyond repair, some of them larger and stronger than she remembered. Which meant she was also back to once again figuring out how all the pieces were supposed to fit together.
Maybe that was just life, though. Rebuilding and redefining. Learning to lean on all those places where the reinforced parts were sturdier than the original.
“I’m not getting involved with you and Lincoln,” Kendra warned. That was one lesson she’d carry with her forever. “I’ve got enough of my own stuff to work through right now.”
“But he and I were never really serious,” Nikki said, her voice pleading. “You know that.”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“Oh, come on. I knew him for a few weeks. He doesn’t have a real job. He lives hundreds of miles away. Of course it wasn’t meant to be.”
Kendra bit back a groan. What about all that stuff about supporting him in his time of need? The responsible girlfriend holding his hand when his career went flat? The careful-not-to-eat-dinner-at-his-family’s-house girl chat with Whitney? “You have to talk to him, Nikki. You have to call him.”
“But I can’t,” Nikki wailed. The sound subtracted about eighteen years off her sister’s life and heaped them right on her own. “I’m no good at stuff like that. He’ll cry or say something nice and then I’ll blubber and give in. I always do. That’s why Mom sends me to live with you or Joni every time I break up with a guy. I need distance or I cave.”
Kendra already knew what was coming next. She was as powerless to stop it as she had been to control Nikki’s and Lincoln’s relationship from the beginning. At least now she knew better than to try.
“You two are friends,” Nikki said. “It would be so much easier if it came from you.”
“No, it wouldn’t. You’re only saying that because you want to ease your guilty conscience.”
“But it’s kind of your fault in the first place. I was only dating him as a favor to you.”
“That’s not true, and you know it.”
Her sister tried one last time. “Please? Maybe Noah could help.”
On that matter, at least, Kendra could safely pound the door closed. “I’m sorry to deflate your super-compelling argument, but Noah and I split up.”
“Oh.” Nikki paused. “That sucks.”
“Yeah. It sucks a lot.”
It sucked all the things—the entire day long, and most of the night too. During their brief relationship, she hadn’t realized how much of her life had shifted to include him, even when she was out participating in the real world he hated so much. What was Noah doing, thinking, planning at that exact moment? Should she send back the unused bread-making machine? How many parts of her life could she sneak in through her overnight bag without him noticing?
Too bad he’d refused to shift his own life in return. He accused her of being too controlling, of trying too hard to maintain order in her life. But the truth was that he was the one who couldn’t let go. Not of the past, and not of his preconceived notions where she was concerned.
At least she was willing to own her personal defects. At least she was willing to try and fix them.
“It sucks a lot,” she echoed, clutching the phone tighter. “So you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not in the mood to end your relationship for you today.”
“Maybe if I just don’t pick up for a while...”
“Nikki.” Kendra’s eyelid twitched a warning. “You can’t do that.”
“What? It’s always worked before.” The sound of a doorbell ringing carried through the receiver. “Oh, Peter’s here. He’s taking me dancing. Waltz. Tango. Foxtrot. He can move his body in ways I never imagined before.”
“You’re unbelievable.” Her words tasted futile. “I’m not some relationship garbageman, hauling away the trash because you can’t be bothered to do it yourself.”
“No. You’re my sister, and you’re the best.” Low murmuring broke up the conversation. Nikki paused only long enough to send her a kissing sound. “You’ve always been good at the hard stuff, Kendra. It’s why we love you so much.”
And then she hung up. Just like that, no word of goodbye or thanks or regret. All that remained was an unassailable belief that Kendra would make things right again.
She was tempted not to do it. It wasn’t her job, it wasn’t her relationship, it wasn’t her problem. But Lincoln deserved better than that—and no matter what other excesses she might be shucking from her life right now, she would never skimp on generosity of spirit.
Not even the most curmudgeonly hermit in the world could make her do that.
* * *
Noah was in Pleasant Park for the third day in a row, and he had yet to be struck down by lightning or the elements or the masses of people—though he wasn’t placing any of those things out of the question yet.
“Do you like it?” Lincoln pushed open a glass-paned door between a tiny reception area and an even tinier back office. “Kendra thinks the rent—”
Noah held up a hand. “Please spare me what Kendra thinks. I already told you a dozen times—I don’t need to approve every decision you make. If you like it, I like it. That’s all.”
Lincoln frowned and quietly clicked the door shut. “But I want you to have an opinion. None of this would be possible without you.”
He shifted uncomfortably. If he’d have known gifting Lincoln money to start his business was going to be this difficult, he’d have hidden it inside a fake lottery ticket or invented a dead aunt overseas or something. “I just want things to go back the way they were. You taking on the world. Me living apart from it.”
“You hiding from it,” Lincoln corrected.
Noah waved his hand, dismissing even the possibility of that topic of conversation. He was here, wasn’t he? “I haven’t noticed the loss of the land, if that’s what’s worrying you. My life hasn’t changed one bit. I don’t know why you insist on making this a bigger deal than it has to be.”
“Your life has changed, though.” Again, Lincoln frowned. Noah hadn’t seen such a serious face on his friend in a long time—even in pain and convalescing at his house, it had been more annoyance than actual sadness crossing and re-crossing his features. “When you were with Kendra, you were a different man. You were the old man—the Noah I remember.”
“You mean the Noah I’ve been trying for years to forget?” He paused only to take a breath. “And can we please not talk about her? The last thing I want...”
The last thing he wanted was for her to walk through the door, smelling of sweet longing and looking as radiant as the sun. But that was exactly what he got. The corners of her mouth were drawn tightly, but other than that, she looked as put together and untouched by life as she always did.
“Oh.” Kendra’s hand stilled on the door when she caught sight of him, and for a moment he thought she might actually flee. But that was silly. Kendra didn’t run from anything. She pushed and pushed and didn’t stop until she got her way. “It’s you.”
For some reason, her awkwardness imbued him with a sense of the exact opposite. Why shouldn’t he be here, helping Lincoln choose an office? He had more of a right to it than she did. He was the silent partner here—a decision that his lawyer had, in fact, insisted upon. And since the night she’d broken up with him, Kendra hadn’t even con
tacted Lincoln except to hand over her notes and wish him well.
“Can we help you with something?” he asked coolly.
“You sound like the Queen of England when you talk like that,” she said irritably. “No need to roll out the royal we for my benefit. I’m here to see Lincoln.”
“More financials to micromanage?” He didn’t know why he said it. It only caused her to move closer, her anger expanding with each step.
“This one’s personal, actually.” She cast a pointed look toward the door. “Do you mind?”
He did mind, but he had no intention of letting her know that. With a blitheness he was far from feeling, he shoved his hands in his pocket and nodded to Lincoln. “I’m heading home. Stop by if you need anything later.”
“Noah’s gallivanting about quite a bit these days,” Kendra said as soon as the door closed behind him. The nice thing about breaking up with a hermit was that you weren’t supposed to run into him while you were out doing errands. It hardly seemed fair that she’d get the hermit who suddenly decided to become a man about town. “I guess he’s taking more of an interest in this private investigation stuff than he let on.”
Lincoln pulled out the one chair in the reception area and gestured for her to sit. “Or he’s heartbroken and doesn’t want to be alone right now and is using this as an excuse.”
When Lincoln took to being the wise one in the room, the earth was definitely off balance. Or Mercury was in retrograde. Or something. Shit.
The Party Girl Page 27
