Powerful: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by Kathleen Kelly

  My voice comes out strained. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Is it why you’re still here? You wanted to see the world, Athena.”

  Pursing my lips together, I nod and look up at him. “I will see the world, I’ve got plenty of time.”

  “You don’t want to talk about it?”

  “Kris, we aren’t friends anymore. I don’t know what we are, but that part of my life is private. I don’t talk about it. And like I said, it was a long time ago.”

  He frowns, nods, and takes a sip of his coffee. “You ever wonder what would have happened if I’d never left?”

  Every day.

  Shaking my head, I say, “Life happens. You either get on with it or you stagnate.”

  Kris raises his eyebrows. “I guess.”

  I smile at him. “Enough talk about the past. What’s your movie about?”

  His face instantly changes. Kris is more animated, and the smile is unfiltered. “I play a race car driver, Skip Torrens, whose mentor is killed in a fiery crash, and I need to overcome my demons to get back behind the wheel, win the girl, and win the race.”

  “Sophia plays the girl?”

  The care-free attitude disappears, and Kris frowns. “Yeah, she’s the mentor’s daughter. It’s a good role for her.”

  “Anyone else I know going to be in it?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Oh, so mysterious,” I tease.

  “Colton Donavan is a technical adviser to the movie.”

  “No! He’s so good-looking. Have you met him? And why doesn’t he have the same surname as Andy Westin?”

  Kris nods. “Yeah, I’ve met Colton and his wife.” Athena laughs. “Colton was adopted.”

  I chuckle. “Damn, all the good ones are taken, and I didn’t know that.”

  Kris stands. “Well, you’re not a true fan, then.” Kris chuckles. “Thanks for the coffee and for hearing me out.”

  “You’re leaving?”

  To my own ears, I sound pathetic. I want him to stay, to listen to him speak and find out all about his new life, but compared to him, I’m still the same girl living in the same town.

  “I’m going out with Dad in the morning to work on the docks.” Kris holds up his hands. “These are no longer used to manual labor, so I need to get some gloves.”

  “Petey doesn’t make your Dad do very much. It’s more so he feels valued. After you left and he had no one to take over the boat, he was kind of lost.”

  “I was never going to go into the family business.”

  I stand. “I know that. I remember all you wanted was to get out of this town. You were always too big for Boothbay and everything in it. Your dad gets it, too, even if he won’t say it out loud.”

  There’s an awkward silence between us. Kris sighs and moves toward the gate. I follow a little behind not wanting to get too close.

  “Athena?” Kris turns, and I stop moving.

  “Umm?”

  “You were the only thing in this town I would have stayed for. It’s why I never came back, it is why I never called. If you’d asked me to stay, I would have. I wasn’t strong enough to leave you and this town, but you had big dreams, too. I thought you’d be better off without me.” His words come out in a rush.

  My mouth falls open, and I take a step back. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

  “What?”

  “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Kris. The difference between us is I would have done what it took to make us work where you, you just did what it took to make you work.” He looks so surprised I could laugh. “I have a life, a boyfriend, family, friends, and a home I’m proud of. Can you say that? Can you honestly tell me you’re happy with Sophia and your life in LA?”

  Kris closes the gap between us, his face only inches from mine. “At least I tried,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “Keep telling yourself that.”

  His arm moves quickly as he wraps it around me and crushes his lips to mine. Kris’ tongue forces its way between my lips, and his other arm cups the back of my head. My body feels like it’s smoldering, slowly coming to life and turning into a fiery inferno.

  “Am I interrupting something?”

  I push Kris away and stumble backward, ashamed at my lack of control and furious that he’d be able to produce this kind of emotion from me.

  “Todd!” I practically shout.

  Kris stares at me, turns, and avoids Todd’s gaze as he strides away.

  Todd smiles, looks over his shoulder, then back at me. “One day! He’s been here one day, and you folded like a cheap suit.”

  “I-I…” Words fail me. I shake my whole body, trying to regain some composure.

  “You slut.”

  “I am not!”

  Todd bursts out laughing. “No, you’re not, but honey, the way that man just kissed you, he’s got it bad for you.”

  “He does not!”

  “I might be gay, but I know what lust looks like, and if I hadn’t walked in just now, do you think you’d have stopped him?”

  “Yes. No. Maybe? Ugh! I don’t know.” Throwing my hands in the air in frustration, I let out a sigh.

  Todd looks so smug as he shakes his head and makes a tut-tutting noise. Then he places his hands on my shoulders.

  “Next time he turns up, and yes, there will be a next time, you ring me immediately. It was pure luck I was driving by and saw his car. Unless, of course, you want to be alone with him?”

  “He’s not mine anymore.”

  “No, sweetheart, he’s not.”

  Chapter Nine

  Kris

  Fuck it all to hell!

  If the boyfriend hadn’t turned up, I would have kept going. The way she responded to me was just like it was when we were kids. No woman has ever made me feel the way Athena can. I thought as time wore on that it was merely a case of first love, and I was looking back on it with rose-colored glasses, but with my cock as hard as a rock from one interrupted kiss, I know that’s not the case. The feel, scent, and taste of her are better than I remembered.

  Parking the car in front of the hardware store, I climb out and slam the door behind me, frustration and anger surging through me.

  “Kris! How does it feel to be back in your home town?”

  It’s then I realize a swarm of media is surrounding me. I put on an award-winning smile and give them a two-fingered wave. Cameras click away as more of them throw questions at me. I hold up my hands, trying to appease them.

  “No doubt, you know I’m back home to celebrate my best friend’s wedding. I would appreciate it if you could give me and the happy couple some privacy while I’m here.”

  “Is it true that you and Sophia Thorne are here to get married as well?”

  “Absolutely not. I’m here for Ares Boswell who is marrying the lovely Ashlea Lynch. He’s a lucky guy. Yes, Sophia is with me, but this is not a double wedding. I mean, come on, guys, we haven’t been dating that long.” I chuckle and shake my head.

  “They say love knows no bounds, and time is meaningless when it comes to true love.”

  Laughing harder, I shake my head. “In this case, love does have bounds. If and when I get married, I promise to let you all know.”

  “Are the press invited to the wedding?”

  “No, this is a small, private affair.”

  Smiling broadly, I shake my head and walk into the hardware store. Unfortunately, I am followed by more than one of them.

  “Well, if it isn’t Kris Livingston,” booms the owner of the store, Mr. Roberts.

  “Hello, sir.”

  “Good to be back?”

  “Yeah, it is. I’m going to be—” I stop and look at the crowd around me and decide I don’t want them following my every movement. “Gloves, I need gloves.”

  “Aisle three.”

  I look over my shoulder at the press and shake my head.

  Mr. Roberts narrows his eyes at them and, in a very loud voice, says, “Unless you folks are going to buy something�
� out!”

  Leaving him with them, I stride down aisle three to inspect the gloves. I need a heavy-duty pair. When I find the ones I need, I grab two pairs and take them up to the counter. Mr. Roberts looks them over before ringing them up.

  “Helping your dad out tomorrow?”

  “Yes, sir.” I lean over the counter and say quietly, “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say where.” I cock my head backward to indicate I’m talking about the media.

  Mr. Roberts taps his nose and holds out the card reader to me. Pulling out my wallet, I tap my card and head for the door.

  “Do you want your receipt?” he yells at me.

  “No thanks, Mr. Roberts. Good seeing you.”

  What started out as ten reporters has now grown to twenty in the parking lot. They could ruin TB’s wedding by being intrusive. I climb into the car, dial my personal assistant, Gabby, and drive away.

  “Hey, boss, how goes it?” asks Gabby in her usual upbeat voice.

  “The press is here, a lot of them.”

  “And?”

  “Gabby, this is a small wedding, not a paparazzi free-for-all. Can you arrange some security to keep the vultures at bay?”

  Her tinkling laugh filters down the line. “Well, you can thank Sophia’s people for that. The rumor is you’re getting married.”

  “Fuck it all to hell. Sophia started that?” I grip the steering wheel tighter.

  “Yep, afraid so. How is she?”

  “She’s good. Gabby, can you fix this?”

  “Sure can. Security, a statement from us, but you’re going to have to give them something.”

  I scrub a hand over my face. “Like what?”

  “How about some photos of you two all dressed up before the wedding? That should help with some of them.”

  “But not all?”

  I’m driving past TB’s café and decide to pull into the parking area out front.

  “Nope, some will want those exclusive photos, you know that.”

  “Gabby, lots of security, please.”

  “You got it!”

  She ends the call, and I get out of the car and walk into the café. I can see TB working out back, so I make a beeline for him.

  “Hey, brother, how’s your day?” asks TB cheerfully as he opens an oven.

  “The press is here.”

  TB raises his eyebrows at me. “And?”

  “And they’ll try and crash your wedding.”

  He pulls a cake out of the oven and puts it on the stainless-steel worktable in front of him. “If you ruin Ashlea’s wedding day, I’ll never forgive you.”

  Picking up a cookie from his worktable that’s fresh out of the oven, I take a bite and shake my head. “I’m organizing security, but it could get messy.”

  “Fix this, and you owe me three dollars for the cookie.”

  Nearly choking on the cookie, I splutter, “T-Three dollars?”

  “Yes, three dollars. It’s a good cookie, isn’t it?”

  It is a good cookie, but I don’t want to admit it to TB, so I shrug.

  “When are rehearsals?”

  “Tomorrow night at the chapel and dinner afterward at the yacht club.”

  “Oh, fancy,” I tease TB. “Why then?”

  “I know it’s tradition, but Ashley didn’t want to have it the night before the big day. My petal wants to look her best, and the yacht club… well, nothing but the finest for my bride.”

  The kitchen area is spotless. The tables gleam, and the floor is clean enough to eat off. TB takes pride in his work.

  “I went to see Athena.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, Dad told me she got attacked?”

  TB stops what he’s doing, and with his hands on his hips, he looks at me. “She didn’t want you to know. She made me promise not to tell you.”

  “What happened?”

  TB frowns, then continues pulling another cake out of the oven. “Not my place to tell you.”

  “For fuck’s sake, you’re my best friend.”

  “And Athena is my sister. Ask her.”

  “I did.”

  This stops him in his tracks, and he scrutinizes me. “Ahh, she didn’t tell you.”

  I shake my head. “Nope.”

  “Can’t blame her. I’m still not going to tell you.”

  “You suck.”

  The waitress, Shannon, comes bustling into the area. “TB, I need some help out front, we’ve been inundated with customers.”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I see the press has taken up residence at all the available tables. Smirking at him, I swipe another cookie from the bench and begin to walk backward out of the café.

  “Hey! That’s six dollars now.”

  I shrug. “I’m good for it. Besides, they’re all here for me.”

  “They could be here for my world-famous chowder.”

  I laugh, and Shannon frowns at me.

  “It is very good. You should try it,” says Shannon as she goes back out the front.

  I follow her, and the cameras all flash at once.

  “Okay, okay,” I say loud enough that the whole café can hear me. “You are all going to order something off the menu, on me, and take as many pictures as you want, but if any of you ruin my best friend’s wedding, you’ll never get another photo of me again. Understand?”

  One of the photographers laughs, so I pin him with a look.

  “Ever. I will only do photoshoots, and I swear, I will wear a paper bag over my head… every. Single. Time. I’m in public, which includes the Oscars. You, especially you, will never get another candid photo of me again.”

  The photographer sits further back into his chair, smirking at me.

  “So, you’re going to wear a paper bag on your head when you go out to dinner?” he says smugly.

  “You bet your ass I will, or I’ll have dinner delivered to my home. Try me. See how far you get,” I reply with ice in my tone.

  He shifts uncomfortably in his seat under my gaze.

  “Kris, you have to know this is a big deal. The rumor is it’s you who’s getting married,” says a female reporter.

  TB bursts out laughing. I shake my head at him and look back at the pack of hyenas.

  “I give you my solemn word, I am not getting married.”

  “We’ve had it confirmed from a reliable source,” says another.

  I hold up my hands. “You guys follow me everywhere. Have you seen me go to Tiffany’s or any other jewelry store?”

  “You could have had it delivered,” counters another.

  I raise my eyebrows, shake my head, and look around the room. “To get married, I’d have to be in love. I’m not getting married.”

  “What about Sophia Thorne?”

  I frown, shake my head again, and pin the reporter with a look. “I’ve only been with Sophia for a few weeks—”

  “Three months,” says another.

  “Fine, three months. I like her, she’s my girlfriend, we have a good time, but we aren’t anywhere near there yet. I swear on my mother’s grave.”

  The room goes quiet, and a few of them exchange glances. I look over my shoulder at TB whose arms are crossed, and he nods at me once.

  “Okay, so order up big. Tomorrow night we are going to be going to the yacht club. Sophia and I will pose for photos at the marina for a half-hour at five o’clock. It’ll be beautiful, the sun will be setting, and you can ask us anything.”

  “Anything?” asks a pretty female.

  “Yep, anything.” I smile widely at the room. “I might not answer, but you can ask.”

  This draws laughter from a few of them.

  I look at TB. “We good?”

  “You still owe me six dollars.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  I stalk out of the café and get in the car. The drive to the motel is a short one like everything else in this town. When I arrive, Sophia is dragging one of her suitcases out the door. She stops giving me a withering look, then pro
ceeds to go back inside, I’m assuming to get her other one. Taking in a deep breath, I let it out slowly then get out of the car. She meets me in the doorway, her other bag in her hand.

  “What are you doing?” I ask with resignation in my voice.

  “Leaving.”

  Sophia places one hand on her hip and kicks it out, looking extremely angry. Reaching up to touch her, Sophia blanches and takes a step back, indignation on her features.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  “Why are you leaving?”

  “You announced to the world that you aren’t in love with me!” screeches my charming girlfriend.

  I turn, walk outside, grab her bag, bring it back into the room and slam the door.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Smiling at her, I sit on the chair near the door, elbows on my knees. “Did you or did you not have your people leak that we’re getting married?”

  “What?” Sophia is trying to look confident, but there’s a tremor to her voice.

  Leaning back, I steeple my fingers and cock an eyebrow.

  “I did it for us,” Sophia roars.

  Laughing, I shake my head, and in this small motel room, it seems to echo around us. Sophia flops on the bed, staring at me as though she’s only seeing me for the first time.

  “You did it for you.” I sigh and sit forward. “And I get it, I do, but this is something you should have run past my people and me. I like you, Sophia, what we have is—” And I stop. I want to say good, but it’s not.

  “I think the word you’re looking for is great. Fantastic. Fabulous.” Sophia’s pretty face is twisted in anger.

  “The sex is good.”

  “Fuck you, Kris.” A tear rolls down her cheek, and she brushes it away.

  “We’ve only been seeing each other for three months. No, I don’t love you. But in time—”

  Sophia cackles like a witch and shakes her head. “We both know you’ll never love me. I don’t know if you can love anyone.”

  I move to sit on the bed next to her and take her hand. “How about we get through this week, and you can announce to the world what a horrible bastard I am and dump me. You can say whatever you want, within reason, and I won’t deny or confirm a thing.”

  “You’d do that?” Her mouth turns up on one side, a smile in the making.