Trouble Next Door

by Stefanie London

  “He’s never mentioned you before.” The question wasn’t accusing, more curious.

  “Well, we don’t really know each other that well. But when he mentioned you were getting married I sort of took the opportunity to pimp my business.” She laughed. “Honesty’s the best policy, right?”

  “Absolutely.” The kettle whistled and Kayla poured the boiling water into two cups.

  McKenna pulled out her brush roll and opened it up, and started to unpack the products she would need for skin prep. During their quick phone call over the weekend, McKenna had gotten necessary information—skin type, skin concerns, and a rough idea of the look that Kayla wanted for her big day. Audrey Hepburn old-school glam, with a touch of J-Lo. It was a unique description, that was for sure.

  “So tell me about what disappointed you with the previous makeup trials,” McKenna said. “It’s not for gossip, but to give me a better idea of what you don’t want. That’s as important to know as what you do want.”

  “Gosh, four trials and I’m still not happy,” Kayla said sheepishly. She set the tea down on the table and slid onto the fold-out stool McKenna had pulled out of her kit. “That must make me sound like such a bridezilla.”

  “Not at all. Finding the right makeup artist is a very personal thing.” She looked closely at Kayla’s skin—it was flawless, which would make her job easier.

  “Well, I suspect the first artist wasn’t as qualified as she claimed to be.” Kayla watched as McKenna massaged some anti-bacterial gel into her hands. “She was a friend of a friend, and the makeup wasn’t much better than what I could do myself.”

  “Ah, I see.” She scooped some hydrating cream out of a pot with a tiny spatula and then proceeded to prep Kayla’s skin.

  “The second trial was great, actually. I was going to book her, but she had a family emergency and then had to move back to Singapore suddenly.” Kayla sighed. “The other two…well, the makeup wasn’t what I’d envisaged for my wedding. It’s such a special day, and I want to get every detail right. One lady put way too much bronzer on me and she seemed keen on making me look as tanned as possible. The other one struggled with the winged liner I wanted, and kept trying to talk me out of it.”

  “Got it. Winged liner, not too much bronzer.” She grinned. “It’s good that you know exactly what you want. It’s harder for me when the bride has no idea, then it becomes a bit of a crapshoot as to whether they’ll like the end product.”

  “If there’s one thing people in our family don’t have an issue with, it’s knowing what we want.” Kayla chuckled. “I guess Beckett and I get that from our mother. She’s stubborn as hell, and so are we.”

  McKenna pumped some primer onto her palette and used a soft brush to sweep it over Kayla’s skin, adding a dewy “lit from within” glow. “Better than drifting through life with no idea of what you want, I think.”

  “Try telling Beckett’s fiancée that.” Kayla rolled her eyes. “She’s determined to get him to change everything he wants to what she wants.”

  Was Beckett’s sister unaware of the breakup? Interesting.

  “Don’t get me wrong, she’s a nice person. I know she doesn’t mean to treat him like crap, but they’re wrong for each other and it causes a lot of friction.”

  McKenna bit down on her lip and concentrated on testing foundation shades against her client’s jawline. What was she supposed to do? She didn’t want to spill the beans if Beckett had chosen to keep the breakup a secret, but she didn’t want to seem disinterested, either.

  “How long have they been together?” she asked carefully. Using her thumb and forefinger, she gently gripped Kayla’s jaw and moved her head to check the foundation swatches from a different angle. Yep, option two was a perfect match.

  “They’ve been engaged for almost a year and they were together for a year before that,” Kayla said. “But they’ve broken up a few times, here and there. He’ll do something that pisses her off, she’ll have a tantrum, and then they split up for a week. I don’t know why he doesn’t send her packing for good. Probably because her father is so heavily invested in his business.”

  McKenna frowned, but covered it quickly by pretending to intently study Kayla’s skin as she applied the foundation with a synthetic brush. “Oh?”

  “Yeah, her dad is some huge bigwig. He was the main backer for Beckett’s latest project, so he probably feels stuck because if they break up then that money will likely go away.” She sighed. “I tried to tell him that my fiancé’s family might be able to invest, but he’s got this thing about making sure I’m not tied to Aaron for money’s sake. Which is kind of ridiculous, considering.”

  A strange feeling churned in McKenna’s gut. Beckett had seemed so caring on their test date—gruffly caring…but caring none the less. The guy who’d tended to her injury, who’d walked away from a fancy restaurant to have dinner at McDonalds because she was too scared to go back, who’d dropped her off at her front door with a smoldering look and a respectful peck on the cheek…he didn’t seem like a guy who would be in a relationship for money’s sake.

  “It’s sad. He deserves someone who’ll make him laugh,” Kayla added. “I think Sherri stresses him out. She doesn’t seem to take much interest in his work. Or his family, for that matter.”

  “It sounds like you guys are close,” McKenna said, desperate to steer the conversation away from his ex.

  “Yeah, he was my rock growing up. Now I have Aaron, of course.” Her eyes became dreamy and soft.

  McKenna inspected Kayla’s jawline to make sure the foundation had blended properly, without leaving a harsh edge. “How did you two meet? Tell me all about it.”

  McKenna breathed an internal sigh of relief as Kayla switched gears and started talking about her fiancé.

  It had been all too easy to feel like her date with Beckett—post oyster fork incident—was real. They’d connected on some personal level, laughed and joked and chatted for hours over burgers and then sundaes. On the way home, McKenna wondered why she couldn’t have found Beckett before. They had a lot in common, they seemed to like the same things. And the chemistry fizzed and crackled like nothing else.

  But that was just McKenna doing what she always did: gravitating to the wrong guy.

  Which meant Operation Self-Love had to be priority number one. And if Beckett was the kind of guy who wanted to marry for money, then he wasn’t the guy for her anyway.

  Chapter Nine

  “You know you don’t have to fix every little thing when you come over.” Beckett’s mother, Minnie, stood with her arms folded across her chest. Her hair was sticking out in every direction, failing to be tamed by the red bandanna tied around her head. “I’m perfectly capable of changing light bulbs and dusting cobwebs.”

  “Kayla makes dinner and I fix stuff.” Beckett grunted as he fiddled with the bulb in his mother’s old-fashioned—and fussy as hell—light fixture. “That’s how it works.”

  It could have sounded chauvinistic. Or, at the very least, pointlessly upholding gender stereotypes that he was fixing and his sister was cooking. But, on offering to assist with dinner, Kayla had shooed him out of the kitchen under the threat of bodily harm with a rubber mallet.

  “Two bloody peas in a pod,” his mother muttered.

  “Sorry Aaron couldn’t make it tonight,” Kayla said as she pounded away at the chicken breasts, winking at Beckett when their mother wasn’t looking. “He’s working such long hours lately. I feel like I hardly see him.”

  “Does that bother you?” Beckett asked as he finally got the bulb to pop into place. After dealing with a complex coding issue today, requiring several hours sitting in the same position, his muscles protested being stretched.

  “That he works a lot?” Kayla looked up. “Sometimes. But I get it, he’s in that stage of his career where he needs to prove himself. I’m sure a time will come where I’m working long hours and he’ll be wishing I was home.”

  Beckett shook his head. “See, it’s
not unreasonable,” he muttered to himself.

  Certainly not the catastrophic event that Sherri had made it out to be. Make hay while the sun shines, that was his motto. Hard work now would afford them the luxury to take life at a slower pace later on. One didn’t get the reward without first getting their hands dirty.

  Besides, he liked his job. He thrived on the stress and the deadlines and the problem solving. It made him feel alive. And that was a hell of a lot more than what most people could say.

  “Sherri giving you a hard time about it again?” Kayla asked. “She doesn’t understand how passionate you are about your work.”

  Minnie rolled her eyes. “Probably because she never had to work for anything herself.”

  “Don’t say that,” Beckett said. “She works hard and she got that job on her own merits.”

  Beckett shot them both a look as he climbed down the stepladder. This was exactly why he hadn’t told them about the latest breakup. Lord knew he didn’t need the extra drama from his family when they inevitably got back together.

  Not that Sherri would afford him the same courtesy. God only knew what she’d said to her father this time—that he was some greedy bastard who ignored her and was married to his work.

  Beckett frowned. Okay, maybe that wasn’t entirely off base…except for the greedy bit. It wasn’t that he intentionally ignored her, but some days he got so far into the zone that he tuned the rest of the world out. He’d always been like that—so focused and intent on achieving his goals that he lost himself in his work, in the lines of code and the cloud of ideas that fogged up his brain.

  Then why have you been thinking about McKenna all day?

  He shrugged off the little voice in his head that seemed intent on taunting him.

  “Oh, Beckett. I meant to tell you that I had my makeup trial with your friend on Monday,” Kayla said. “She’s so lovely. And gorgeous. I thought you were just yanking my chain with that whole thing about her being attractive. Why didn’t you tell me you were serious?”

  “I didn’t think her appearance would matter for applying makeup,” he said drily.

  “But no denial that’s she pretty…interesting.” Kayla grinned.

  Oh boy. This was why he wasn’t keen on McKenna meeting his sister. He knew Kayla would jump on the chance to play matchmaker…never mind the fact that she didn’t even know he was single at this stage.

  You’re temporarily single and trying to fix it. Don’t get attached to the label.

  “Did you like the makeup?” he asked as he came into the kitchen to toss the burned-out bulb.

  “I did. I’ve got one more trial lined up, though.” She looked a little sheepish. “I swear I’m not trying to be a bridezilla, but I want everything to be perfect.”

  “Isn’t that the definition of a bridezilla?” their mother teased. “It’s only makeup.”

  “It’s important.” Kayla frowned. “I know it might seem silly, but his family is a big deal and there will be a lot of photos…”

  Beckett noticed the slight tick in his mother’s expression, and the hardening of her mouth. Of course she was supportive of Kayla’s choices about the marriage, but there had been an undercurrent of tension brewing for a few weeks now. And it wasn’t the first time Kayla had called her fiancé’s family “a big deal.”

  “I’m sure McKenna would do a great job,” he said, trying to steer the conversation back toward the fluffier side before things got too tense. “Her makeup always looks nice.”

  “Since when do you notice someone’s makeup?” Kayla laughed. “I still remember the time Sherri came home with a new lipstick and flipped out because you said you couldn’t tell the difference. Granted, it takes a certain level of perception to tell the difference between two types of beige…”

  “I figure it’s more relevant for me to notice McKenna’s makeup, since she’s a makeup artist. After all, I did pass on her details to you.” He rolled his eyes. “How could I recommend someone without first assessing their skill level?”

  Kayla looked intently down at the dinner she was preparing, trying to disguise her smirk by focusing on cracking an egg into a bowl. “Just how much assessment have you done?”

  “Don’t wind him up,” Minnie said, shooting a conspiratorial look at Kayla. “You know he takes things seriously.”

  “One of us has to,” he muttered.

  “Hey!” Kayla and Minnie said at the same time.

  His sister narrowed her eyes at him. “I take things seriously, but I also don’t live my life like every decision is life or death.”

  Beckett scoffed. “Taking responsibility for my work and my finances is not living like everything is life or death. It’s called being an adult.”

  Minnie shook her head. “You are too much like your father, Beck. You’ll dig yourself an early grave with all that stress.”

  “Someone has to take care of you.”

  Shit. He wasn’t planning on having this discussion tonight, but it looked like his worries had been bubbling away more than he’d thought. Not to mention Kayla’s comment about him enabling her—that had been eating away at him, too.

  “I never asked for your goddamn money,” his mother said, her blue eyes blazing. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. Did it from the day you were in diapers and I can do it now.”

  “Really?” He folded his arms across his chest. “And how are you going to do that without a job?”

  “You told him?” Minnie shot daggers at Kayla, who sighed.

  “Yes, Ma. I told him.” She shook her head as she proceeded to dip the flattened chicken breasts into a bowl of flour and then egg. “I was worried.”

  “I can do without the judgment, thank you very much. From both of you.” His mother folded her arms across her chest, her features settled into a dark expression. “I refuse to work in an environment where I’m not treated properly. And that manager is an idiot. I can’t work for idiots.”

  Beckett looked skyward, digging as deep as he could to find the willpower not to remind his mother of all the other jobs she’d quit for similarly tenuous reasons. His mother’s issue with authority was more the catalyst for her employment flakiness than any of her managers’ lack of capability. Or her being treated poorly. In fact, at her last job, he had met the manager and had thought very highly of him. But Minnie Walsh did not like being told what to do. That was the bottom line.

  “Besides,” Minnie said with a falsely nonchalant tone. “Greg’s moving back in. So I’ll have someone to help out with the bills.”

  “What?” Beckett and Kayla both exclaimed at the same time.

  Greg was Kayla’s father and possibly the only person in the world who made Minnie look like a pillar of employment stability. He’d relied on his family’s money for years, but Beckett had his suspicions that they’d cut him off a few years back. Not that they’d seen the man in at least half a decade—had no idea where he’d been, if he was dead or alive. It wasn’t like he called Kayla on her birthday or even sent a card.

  “Has he been back here already?” Kayla’s hurt expression made anger wrench in Beckett’s chest. “I haven’t heard from him.”

  “Oh, he’s been in and out.” Minnie looked oblivious to her daughter’s pain.

  “Sounds like him.” Beckett’s jaw clenched. “He waltzes in and out as he pleases, with no regard for taking care of his family.”

  “He’s a free soul, you know that. And I’d rather him be like that than tie himself to me for the wrong reasons.” His mother shot him a meaningful look.

  Beckett rolled his eyes at the thinly veiled commentary on his relationship with Sherri. “Oh, and wanting to build a stable and secure life with someone is the wrong reason?”

  “You should be more concerned with finding someone you love. Someone who excites you.” Minnie threw her hands up in the air. “Not someone who spends her every waking moment trying to guilt you into changing.”

  Did Sherri excite him? No. But why was exc
itement a measure of a good relationship? It was far down on Beckett’s list of needs. And, from what he’d seen, Minnie’s definition of excitement meant being with a man so selfish he’d disappear without a word for years at a time. Why the hell would anyone want that?

  “At least when he’s here I know it’s because he wants to be here, not because he feels obligated,” Minnie added.

  “And what about what his daughter wants, huh?” Beckett shook his head. “Did that occur to either of you?”

  “Stop it!” Kayla slapped her hand down on the kitchen counter. “Beck, I appreciate the support but I can speak for myself. And Ma, just…tell Dad I would like to hear from him. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

  Beckett dug his fingers into the back of his neck, kneading the tight muscles there. Kayla was right, she could speak for herself. But it killed him to see the way his mother was so oblivious to how Greg’s actions affected her daughter. It’d been this way for over twenty years, and nothing had changed. Greg would come and go without warning, Minnie would always welcome him back, and they both would forget about Kayla’s feelings.

  Not exactly a great example of a successful relationship. It was hard not to wonder how their lives may have turned out if his father had beaten the cancer that took him so young. But then he wouldn’t have Kayla for a sister, and Beckett wouldn’t give her up for anything. Which made those lines of thinking pointless.

  And sure, what he had with Sherri wasn’t for everyone, but it worked for him.

  Did it, really?

  A little voice of disquiet needled at him, but Beckett shut the thought down. Of course it worked. Sure, Sherri could be demanding and he could be distant, and their communication styles didn’t exactly mesh. But they’d had a lot of good times together over the years. He was doing the right thing. Being with Sherri was what he wanted—they would work out the kinks in their differences in expectation. Eventually.

  But why then did McKenna suddenly pop into his head, unbidden.

  You have a plan and you’re going to stick to it. No detours. No distractions.