The Playboy

by Carly Phillips

  “Hi.” Kendall dropped her purse on the inside of the booth and slid in across from Charlotte.

  “Hi yourself.” She closed the magazine she was reading and pushed it aside. “Just keeping up on the industry,” she explained. “So welcome to town.”

  Kendall smiled at the other woman’s warmth. “Thank you,” she said and settled in more comfortably.

  Charlotte narrowed her gaze, studying her. Finally a smile tilted her red lips. “You’re glowing.”

  “And you don’t pull any punches.” But Kendall’s instincts told her to trust Rick’s sister-in-law and she leaned across the table. “I suppose I am.”

  Charlotte laughed. “It’s the Chandler charm. Once they turn it your way, you’re a goner.”

  Maybe so, Kendall thought. But she was out of here soon regardless and Charlotte ought to know the truth. “We’re only temporary,” she said softly. “Rick needs a woman to divert the masses.”

  “Ah, yes. Raina’s army of bachelorettes.” Charlotte shook her head. “I almost feel sorry for Rick.”

  “Because he’s got legions of women flocking after him? That’s not really a hardship,” Kendall said wryly. But she knew that was jealousy speaking and Rick hated being bombarded by the unwanted attention.

  “Legions is going too far. But there are enough to give him a swelled head. I’ll agree to that.”

  “And he hates it.”

  “You know him well already.” Charlotte sobered, her eyes wide and serious. “You’re a wonderful person to go along with his plan. Roman told me all about it.”

  “Rick told him?” What else had Rick shared with Roman, Kendall wondered.

  Charlotte shrugged. “There isn’t much the brothers don’t share.” Those green eyes studied her as if she could read Kendall’s mind. “So what do you want for breakfast?” Charlotte asked at last and slid a menu across the table.

  Kendall grabbed the trifold paper, grateful for the subject change and the ability to dive into food and not her psyche. “Pancakes and coffee for me.”

  “Sounds good. Izzy?” Charlotte called to the robust woman Kendall had met last night.

  “What can I get you two women?” Isabelle paused by the table, pen and pad in hand.

  Charlotte repeated their orders, changing only her own drink to orange juice.

  Izzy grinned. “I love women who aren’t afraid to eat.” She scribbled something on the paper, collected the menus, and strode off toward the kitchen.

  Charlotte folded her hands in front of her. “Now back to something I want to discuss with you. Pam mentioned that you design jewelry.”

  Kendall nodded, grateful and touched Pam would take the initiative on her behalf. “I have a portfolio—”

  “Do you have samples of your work?” They spoke at the same time.

  Kendall laughed and reached into her bag to pull out a loose-leaf, photographic diary of her work. “I have samples at home, but since I wanted to talk to you anyway, I brought this along.”

  While Charlotte flipped through the laminated pages, Kendall explained her proposal. “I was hoping you’d consider taking my designs into your shop. Being completely honest here, I’m in a bind.” She bit down on her lower lip, hating to admit her problems yet knowing she had no choice. “I was modeling in New York to help pay for my aunt’s nursing home care, but her last days involved round-the-clock nurses and the expenses added up. Then I came here expecting to be able to sell Aunt Crystal’s house to help, and I discover it’s completely run-down. I’m spending money instead of making any. But I don’t expect you to take these on out of pity or any sort of obligation to Rick. I’d just like you to decide if you think we can work out an arrangement that will benefit us both.”

  “You do beautiful work.” Charlotte traced her finger over some of the photos of intricate wire designs. “I can honestly say I wouldn’t take in something that would jeopardize the quality of the merchandise I carry. Not only do I think these will sell, but I think we’ll make a nice profit. I need to see them in person of course, but I doubt that will change a thing, except maybe to convince me to buy one for myself.”

  Charlotte smiled and the fist that had tightened around Kendall’s heart from the moment she’d seen Crystal’s dilapidated house finally eased. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

  “Hey, don’t thank me. You’re obviously talented and this arrangement is good business. I have a glass case by the register in the front of the store. I can display them there and you and I can work out a percentage split.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Izzy arrived, plates in hand. Charlotte handed back Kendall’s book and she tucked it safely back into her bag, then she slid her business card across the table. “My cell phone’s on here so you can reach me at your convenience,” she told Charlotte.

  “Sounds good.”

  Izzy placed their food down in front of them and the aroma of pancakes filled the air. Kendall’s stomach grumbled. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was. But Charlotte glanced down at the food and paled slightly. “You know what, Izzy? I changed my mind. Make it a decaf tea and some dry toast, please. I’m really sorry.”

  “Are you okay?” Kendall asked.

  “Depends on your definition of okay,” Charlotte muttered. “I’m fine, really. Just not a breakfast person but your order sounded so good, I figured I’d give it a shot.”

  “No problem, honey,” Izzy said, then leaned closer. “Samson’s outside. I’ll just pack him up a bag and not tell Norman. Those two don’t always hit it off.”

  “Thanks so much. Charge me, okay?” Charlotte said. Izzy waved a hand.

  “Who’s Samson?” Kendall asked when Izzy had walked away.

  “The town eccentric,” Charlotte explained. “He really doesn’t have any family or friends. He may or may not have money, no one knows but he seems to need the handout. I let him do favors for me so he doesn’t feel like he’s taking charity. I think he’s more misunderstood than anything.”

  Kendall nodded. She glanced at Charlotte, still concerned at her odd reaction to the food but with the plate taken away from her, the other woman looked better. “We had our share of people like that in New York City. Difference is, no one seems to look twice. It’s sad.”

  “D.C. too. Thank goodness Yorkshire Falls is different. More compassionate. At least some people are.” Charlotte glanced at Kendall’s plate and inhaled deep. “You go on and eat before it gets cold. I’ll just talk business until mine gets here if you don’t mind?”

  “Well . . . ”

  “Eat,” Charlotte insisted. “And listen.” She grinned. “Something for you to keep in mind. I’ve made some contacts in Washington, D.C., and I’m considering opening up a boutique there. If your designs sell here, would you be interested in taking your work to the city?”

  Kendall’s heart began to beat faster in her chest. “Are you kidding? I’d love the opportunity. Thank you.” She’d thought starting in Arizona would give her a more solid résumé and background. Never had she considered starting in a big metropolitan city first, but Charlotte was offering her that chance.

  Kendall had come to Yorkshire Falls with no expectations except to sell the house and be gone. In less than a week she’d gotten herself a lover in name as well as fact, more than one friend, a sense of family, and the beginning of a stable career. If Kendall didn’t know better she’d think she was settling down.

  Raina glanced at the timer on her treadmill, then slowed her pace. Less than five minutes left for her brisk daily walk, something she looked forward to more than ever now that her so-called illness limited her activity. But as she looked out the window, she noticed a car pull up to the curb and her youngest son climbed out.

  “Darn.” Roman had the worst timing. She yanked the safety plug out of the treadmill and dove to the couch, covering herself with a blanket. Picking up a magazine, she made sure she had the telephone close by. Her phone served as an intercom and she could instruct Rom
an to come in without having to get the door herself. All in the name of the charade, she thought.

  To her surprise, no doorbell rang but instead she heard Roman call out. “Mom?”

  He’d obviously let himself in which surprised her since all three of her boys normally rang the bell before coming inside, even if they used their key instead of making her walk to the door. “I’m in the basement,” she called back.

  His hard footsteps pounded down the long flight of stairs to the finished basement, a room that had served as a playroom when the boys were young, and a large TV room as time went on.

  He crossed the room and stopped in front of the couch. “Hi there.”

  She let her gaze travel over her son. Marriage definitely agreed with him, she thought, pleased. “Hello, Roman. Where’s your lovely bride?”

  His blue eyes sparkled at the mention of his wife. “She’s having breakfast with Kendall.”

  “And you came to see your mother.” She clapped her hands together. “You’re such a good son.”

  “Why would you walk down the steps just so you could lie down in the basement? There’s a perfectly good television in the den on the main floor of the house,” he said, ignoring her compliment. “It can’t be good for your heart to go up and down the steps for no good reason.”

  “Well . . .” She hadn’t anticipated or thought through an answer to that particular question. Her sons believed she’d been told to take it easy. They believed she walked the stairs from her bedroom to the main level with the kitchen just once a day. The basement should be off-limits for someone with a weak heart.

  He reached out a hand to her forehead, his own brow crinkling with what she thought was concern, but his next words canceled out that emotion.

  “You’re flushed and out of breath. I wonder why that is?” Roman lowered himself to the couch until he shared a cushion with her. “You’re also sweating like you’ve run a marathon, Mom.”

  His journalistic instincts had obviously found something amiss and kicked in. Darn her youngest for being so perceptive.

  “I’m perspiring, women don’t sweat,” she shot back, then caught herself and realized she’d agreed with his assessment. Not a good idea when she couldn’t afford to condemn herself in any way. She needed to get herself out of this predicament.

  Then when she and her boys were together in one room, she had to confess. She couldn’t keep this up. It wasn’t good for her heart, she thought wryly. “Nonsense, Roman. I’m not sweating, I’m just warm under this blanket, that’s all.”

  “I’d be warm too if I’d been running on the treadmill, then dove off and covered myself with a wool blanket so I wouldn’t get caught.” His lips turned upward in a semigrin.

  She didn’t care if he seemed amused, she didn’t like his accusation and her heart picked up rhythm. “Caught doing what?”

  “Cornered and you still won’t give up on your own.” He patted her hand. “Okay, I’ll spell it out for you. You’ve been faking your heart condition so you can manipulate Chase, Rick, and myself to do your bidding and get you grandchildren. All you need to do now is admit I’m right.”

  She sucked in a startled breath. Not that she thought she was such a master manipulator—though she believed she’d done a darn good acting job so far. But she’d obviously been too overconfident. She’d never once considered that her sons might catch on.

  “I’ll take it your silence means yes? I’m right?” He squeezed her hand lightly.

  Raina sighed. “Yes,” she admitted, unable to meet his gaze. “How did you figure it out?”

  He rolled his eyes as if the answer were obvious. “I’m a journalist. I know how to spot signs most people would ignore. Add to that I lived with you a few months back, when this supposed condition started. Tea, Maalox, and prescription antacids—a sure sign of indigestion. Plus you hit the stairs like a sprinter when you thought I wasn’t around. It wasn’t hard to put things together. Especially once I found your exercise clothes in the washing machine.”

  She forced herself to meet his gaze. “You don’t sound angry.” Although his eyes, his father’s eyes, condemned her.

  “Let’s just say I’ve had a while to get used to the truth.” “But you haven’t told your brothers.” He couldn’t have since they were still tiptoeing around her like she might break at any second, whispering in concern when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.

  “Not yet.”

  She heard the definitive tone of that word yet and knew her charade days were numbered. “Why haven’t you filled them in?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Stupidity?”

  She covered his arm with her palm. “You have to understand my reasons—and know I’m sorry I went to such extremes.”

  “You didn’t feel bad enough to have come clean on your own. Dammit, Mom.” He shook his head, his frustration and anger finally coming through. “And the hell of it is I know you’d do it again if you had to, right? For some reason you just can’t let us live our own lives.”

  A lump rose to her throat, the guilt she’d been suffering from for so long overcoming any justification she might have offered. “If you’re so angry, why haven’t you told Rick and Chase? Tell them and be done with it already.”

  He let out a frustrated groan. “Like it’s that easy? At first I was in complete shock. Then after Charlotte and I got married, I figured what the hell. Let Rick go next and maybe he’ll end up as happy as I am.”

  Raina clucked her tongue, not buying that particular excuse. “That’s giving this charade some credit. And when you realized what I’d done I’m certain you were furious. You wouldn’t have withheld this kind of information from your brothers just so they could find a woman and end up happy.”

  She knew her youngest, knew the bond all her boys shared. Roman might want his brothers to share his happiness but he wouldn’t condone her antics to achieve that goal.

  “You’re right, that’s giving you credit. And maybe you did help bring me together with Charlotte but I also believe in fate. We’d have found our way back to each other anyway. It wasn’t just because you’d cornered your sons into picking a sacrificial lamb to give you a grandchild.”

  She cringed. “It wasn’t just because I wanted a grandchild. I want you all to experience the love and happiness I shared with your father. I want to know you’ll have more than empty apartments and empty lives when I’m gone.”

  But she still remembered how she’d felt on discovering her sons had employed a coin toss. Loser would give up his bachelorhood and freedom to marry and give their sick mother a grandchild. Roman lost—and ended up the winner. She didn’t think he’d appreciate the reminder. “So you don’t want to give me credit. Then why not tell Rick or Chase?” she asked again, certain her youngest was dodging the issue and she couldn’t imagine why.

  “I have my reasons.” He didn’t meet her gaze.

  “Now who’s hiding something,” she asked, but decided not to force things. She hadn’t earned his trust or the reprieve he’d given her by keeping her secret. “Why tell me you know the truth now?” she asked instead.

  “Because of Rick. When you called to say he wanted to gather family and friends and you asked if we could make a beeline home, I figured he’d found the right woman. And I wanted to make sure you didn’t meddle in his life the way you did in mine.” This time he did lock his eyes with hers. “Let Rick and Kendall make their own way. Or else.”

  “Or else you’ll tell. Roman, sweetheart, you should know I was planning on giving up anyway. Rick found Kendall on his own and it’s getting hard to keep up the charade. Even Eric—”

  “No.” Roman spoke in a firm, no-nonsense voice. “You will not tell Rick or Chase now.”

  She blinked, utterly and completely shocked. “Why not? I thought that’s what you’d want.”

  “I considered that option, believe me.” He leaned an arm over her, propping his hand on the sofa and leaning close enough to press a kiss on her chee
k. “I love you and I’ve been observing your relationship with Dr. Fallon. I realize you’re having a hell of a time mixing a personal life with your charade.”

  She sighed. Her youngest had always been astute. “Eric’s a good man and I couldn’t be happier you’re finally moving on with your life.”

  She nodded, knowing Roman’s past inability to stay home in Yorkshire Falls or commit to a woman had a lot to do with that very issue. “But?”

  “But if you admit your scheme now, just when Rick’s found a woman he obviously cares about, you’ll give him a reason to back off. With his past and after Jillian, it’s a miracle he’s looking at Kendall Sutton the way he is. And if you turn around now and show him women can say one thing and do another, if he sees your manipulation, he might decide women aren’t worth the effort.” Roman shook his head. “Much as I wouldn’t mind you confessing and suffering the consequences, Rick deserves the chance to be happy. Like you said,” Roman muttered, obviously disgusted at giving her notions any credit whatsoever.

  Raina didn’t like it but Roman was right. Rick probably was on shaky emotional ground and didn’t need an excuse to give in to his fears and push him away from Kendall. “I’ll keep quiet.”

  Even though her silence assured her relationship with Eric would continue to be rather difficult and strained, she deserved the trials she suffered now. Roman rewarded her with a huge hug and she squeezed her youngest back. Raina had made her bed, so to speak. She smoothed the heavy covers over her legs. She’d just have to lie in it.

  Kendall decided to spend the hours after breakfast with Charlotte cleaning out the closets in the guest house as another way of insuring a sale. Make the storage room look big and enticing, she thought.

  She’d no sooner changed into her cleaning outfit than the doorbell rang and the front door swung open wide and Pearl entered without invitation.

  “Why you’re just like a native, leaving your door open to the neighbors.” The older woman walked inside, a foil-wrapped package in her hand.