Her friends laughed as Tandy toasted that as well.
Kaitlyn just brushed the towel off her body and rose in her white strapless bikini to dive into the pool effortlessly. The coolness of the pool took the fire burning inside her down a bit, but the pressure of the water against her body felt too much like Quint’s hands.
She couldn’t escape him. Forget him. Drink him away. Party him away. Flirt him away.
Nothing.
She came up from beneath the water for air, but she dove back beneath the depths to hide her tears, which she couldn’t keep from falling.
Kaitlyn loved and missed Quinton Wells. There was nothing she could do about it.
CHAPTER 17
One month later
Kaitlyn could hardly believe the many peaks and valleys of her life since her return from the Vegas trip with Anola and Tandy. What happened in Vegas definitely didn’t stay in Vegas. And in the end she knew that was a good thing.
The trip and all the fun and frivolity it contained had begun to wear on Kaitlyn before they reached the midpoint of the trip. Waking up to a pounding headache and alcohol film on her tongue, with vague memories of dollar bills and gyrating naked strippers slathered in oil, wasn’t the fun it used to be for her.
In Paris she had lived and enjoyed it.
In Vegas, however, Kaitlyn wondered if she could survive it.
When she got back to her parents’, she had slept for almost two days straight to recover. She finally felt her head was on straight enough that she called her boss and discovered she had been fired for missing too many days of work—and not having enough focus on the days she did appear.
That was a reality check like no other.
After lying to her parents about her boss going out of town and giving her additional time off, she isolated herself in her room and reflected on a lot of things. She learned that being still made a person focus on things. Focus. Evaluate. Reevaluate. Make changes.
And she did all of that, and more.
Kaitlyn took a sip of the glass of wine she held as she flipped through the look-books of several designers. As she listened to the late Whitney Houston’s The Greatest Hits, she had to admit it felt good to be back in her own space and back doing something far less pointless than just shopping.
The most grown-up thing Kaitlyn ever did in her life was swallow her pride and go back to Lyle to request her job back. She just thanked God he adored the Azzedine Alaia dress she wore, with a matching cardigan. The sheer off-white and metallic gold striped dress had a full skirt that ended just above her knees. He especially loved the thin gold band she wore around her waist as a belt.
“I want to be mad at you . . . but I can’t,” he had admitted, coming around his desk to pull her up onto her six-inch heels to air-kiss each of her cheeks. “To your desk.”
And Kaitlyn had been back to work ever since. Even arriving early and working on some weekends to scout new designers for his boutiques.
She sang along to “You Give Good Love” as she looked around at the cottage she had moved into just last week. Kaeden’s wife, Jade, had once lived there and suggested it to Kaitlyn when she mentioned finding her own place. Luckily, it sat empty and Kaitlyn scooped it up. And she hadn’t missed the extra kick in her father’s step around the house when she announced she was moving.
Kaitlyn didn’t feel offended. The last week back in her own place and space had reminded her how good it felt to be on her own. It had been a minute since she enjoyed the freedom of walking around the house naked. And this was her first Friday evening at home and nowhere near a club, dinner party, or event of any kind.
She loved Tandy and Anola, but Kaitlyn had also decided to pull back from their friendship a bit. They just didn’t want the same things in and out of life anymore. And she was okay with that.
Bzzzzzzzzz . . .
She set her wineglass down and picked up her cell phone. A text.
“Lei,” Kaitlyn said, smiling as she used her thumb to open it. The little sweetie had made sure to stay in contact with Kaitlyn; and weeks ago Kaitlyn had even taken her and Kadina to the movies.
“‘Doesn’t my daddy look good?’” Kaitlyn read aloud, her heart already pounding fast as she looked at the picture of Quint in a tuxedo.
“Sexy ass,” Kaitlyn muttered as she zoomed in on the picture.
Kaitlyn hadn’t seen Quint in two months, and nothing about him had changed. Still bald. Still handsome. Still sexy as hell.
She set the phone back down on the table and looked down at his face. Nothing about her feelings had changed either. Her heart and pulse were still racing and pounding. Her stomach was fluttering with butterflies. Her memories were flooded with the good times—in and out of bed.
Picking up the phone, she texted Lei back: YES HE LOOKS VERY GOOD.
Kaitlyn ran her fingers through her hair, causing it to stand on end as she sat back in the chair and tapped her fingers against the tabletop. In time the pain and anger over their sudden breakup had dulled in her, but she couldn’t lie and say that she didn’t think of him often—especially since she stayed in contact with Lei.
Although she never questioned Lei about her father, Lei always found a way to let her know that Quint was not seeing anyone else. It was clear that little Lei was rooting for a reconciliation. That made Kaitlyn adore her all the more, and miss even more the times that the three of them had shared together.
Bzzzzzzzzz . . .
Kaitlyn eyed the phone before she picked it up again and opened the text she already knew was from Lei: Dadd jst tryiN his tux 4 a wedin 2moz. Not a d8. N no d8 4 wedin. ;-)
She frowned as she tried to decipher the teen’s text lingo. Most times she got it quick.
Daddy just trying on his tux for a wedding . . . tomorrow. Not a . . . date. And no date for wedding, Kaitlyn finished.
Kaitlyn didn’t answer Lei. What was she supposed to say? Thanks for the update on your daddy’s personal life? Nothing. Never.
The sound of Whitney singing “Where Do Broken Hearts Go?” played throughout the cottage.
She sang along to the song, a little off-key but heartfelt.
Truth?
Her heart was broken.
She stood up from the table and grabbed her car keys before she left the house as Whitney sang: “And if somebody loves you . . . Won’t they always love you?”
Apparently not, Whitney, Kaitlyn thought, closing and locking the door before she climbed into her car and drove to her parents’.
Kaitlyn was still softly singing the chorus into the quiet interior of the vehicle as she drove down the long road leading to their stately brick home. She made her way up the stairs and started to use her key to unlock the door, but she knocked, instead, with a little smile and shake of her head.
The door opened and she looked up at her mother standing there in a pretty rust cotton dress with a full skirt and long sleeves.
“What’s wrong?” Lisha Strong asked, reaching for Kaitlyn’s wrist to pull her inside.
“You going out?” Kaitlyn asked, surprised by the emotions she felt brimming on the edge.
Lisha hugged her close to her side.
And then Kaitlyn’s tears fell.
“What’s wrong?” Kael asked in alarm from somewhere behind them.
“I knew this was coming,” Lisha said, steering Kaitlyn into the kitchen. “I’m pretty sure this is about Quint.”
Kaitlyn nodded as she was eased down onto a stool and a big slice of apple pie à la mode was eventually slid in front of her. She looked up at the sound of the front door slamming suddenly.
“Where’s Daddy going?” she asked as she wiped the tracks of her tears with her slender fingers.
“To see a man about a dog,” Lisha said, very no-nonsense as she sat down on the stool next to her.
Kaitlyn frowned. In the South that was always an adult’s answer to a child asking where an adult was going. The translation was None of your business.
Point made.
“You ready to talk about it?” Lisha asked.
Kaitlyn shrugged and felt the sadness come back in a rush. “Honestly, Mama, I loved him. I still love him and he ended things. He broke my heart, Mama. He just walked away from everything we had, like it was nothing.”
Lisha made a sad face as she reached for Kaitlyn’s hand and squeezed it. “Why?”
Kaitlyn looked up. “Huh?”
“Did he say why?”
Kaitlyn shifted in her seat as she felt swamped in the awkward moment. She shifted her eyes away from her mother.
“He thought . . . He didn’t like . . . He said that he didn’t like that I was going back to being the spoiled little rich girl. He . . .”
Lisha made a face that caused Kaitlyn to pucker her forehead.
“What?” Kaitlyn asked, leaning back a bit as her almond-shaped eyes widened. “What is that look about?”
Lisha held up both her hands. “You had us on the edge of our seats for a minute too, Kat.”
Kaitlyn frowned.
“I’m not saying that Quint was right to end things, and I know nothing about how he ended them . . . but your father and I were regretting our decision to help you so much again, because you did go a bit backward. Right?” Lisha said slowly, clearly not wanting to offend her daughter, who was in pain . . . but needed to hear the truth.
Kaitlyn rose to her feet and paced a bit before she stopped. “Okay, I tripped a little bit, but what does that have to do with him?” she asked with attitude. “It felt like he was jealous—”
Lisha frowned. “Really?” she asked.
Kaitlyn’s mouth moved, but nothing came out. Their disagreement about the exact same subject came back to her very clearly:
“I have a problem with them taking the woman I love and turning her back into the spoiled little rich girl I couldn’t stand.”
“Because my family is able to help me, I shouldn’t accept it to prove to you that I’m grown?”
“No, you shouldn’t accept it because you’re smart and brave enough and woman enough to get it all on your own. If you wanted to, but the hard road ain’t for everybody.”
“Are you jealous of my family’s wealth?”
“For you even to think that lets me know you are every bit of the spoiled brat that I thought you were.”
Kaitlyn looked pensive as she pushed the painful memory away.
“Why else would he care if y’all paid my bills?” she asked.
“The same reason we all did,” Lisha began simply. “He cares about and wants the best for you. You know we all thought you needed an adjustment to your thinking and to some of your ways, and that’s why we put the restrictions on you in the first place.”
Kaitlyn dropped back down onto her stool. “Still, he left. He decided. He didn’t think I was worth it, and I can’t front. It hurts. I cannot believe he hasn’t called or tried to apologize or nothing. It’s been a couple of months and I just am sick of thinking about him and missing him and being mad at him and—”
Lisha rose to pull her daughter into her arms as she sat. “Time heals all wounds, baby. I promise.”
Kaitlyn leaned into her embrace and sought the strength and comfort she offered.
“But Mama’s gonna give you advice about compromise that you both could use.”
Kaitlyn wiped the tears from her eyes as she got schooled on life by her mother.
Quint hung the tuxedo in one of the two walk-in closets. He wanted to make sure everything fit before the wedding he was in the next day. Flexing his broad shoulders, he left his master suite and jogged down the wrought-iron spiral staircase to the lower level of the house. He headed around the base of the staircase to the sunken den, where Lei was setting up their usual Friday movie night. She was in the identical footed pajamas Kaitlyn used to wear on the colder nights.
“What’s the movie?” Quint asked, easing down into the recliner and kicking his bare feet up. “Your pick.”
“Bridesmaids,” Lei said; there was a playful twinkle in her eye as she picked up the remote.
Quinton frowned.
“Someone once told me that what I wanted was important, and for me to never forget that,” she reminded him as she plopped down into the recliner on the opposite side of the table beside him.
What could he say when his daughter gave his own words of wisdom back to him?
“Just remember that when you’re old enough for a boyfriend.”
“And when exactly is that?” Lei asked.
“When you’re old enough to sign your name on a rental or mortgage agreement,” Quinton answered easily without hesitation.
Lei tossed a popcorn kernel at him.
Quint caught it with one hand and then tossed it into his open mouth.
“You could take Kaitlyn to Mr. Kyle’s wedding tomorrow.”
Quint ignored the question and pretended to focus on the opening scene of the comedy. He didn’t want to think of or be reminded of Kaitlyn Strong. And usually he failed.
It took the littlest thing for her to come to mind. Like how she had become a part of their Friday movie nights and always made sure to bring home takeout from Charleston restaurants to top their usual pizza fare. With the hint of a smile on his lips, he glanced over at the two boxes of Domino’s Pizza on the low-slung and wide coffee table.
Kaitlyn didn’t care for pizza. Or scary movies. Or gross humor.
She loved crispy crab cakes. And romantic comedies. And action flicks.
He smiled at the memory of her burying her head against his shoulder during his pick of a scary movie. He liked that she turned to him for comfort. He liked that she relied on him. Believed in him. Supported him.
He just wished that she could believe in and support herself. In the weeks following their breakup, Quinton had continued to love her. He came to realize that perhaps he did judge her as harshly as she had said, but he had been disappointed in her.
He had wanted more for her.
It stung to think she hadn’t wanted it for herself.
And it pained him to remember the look on her face when she told him: “Real love is always enough.”
Quint knew his love was real; because after all the time they had apart, there was no other woman he could imagine to replace her. There was no one to fill her shoes; no one to make him forget her.
I messed up, he silently admitted to himself as he shifted to a comfortable position in his chair and held his chin in his hands.
“Daddy, you want a slice?” Lei asked.
Quint looked up from where he was staring at the floor to find his daughter looking at him over her shoulder as she knelt on the floor by the coffee table.
“Nah, I’m good,” he said.
Lei sat back on her haunches and eyed him for a long moment until she rose to her feet and came over to hug him.
“What’s that for?”
She shrugged as she moved back to her spot on the floor. “You looked like you needed one,” she said.
Quint continued to study her. “You been doing that a lot lately.”
“You needed it a lot lately,” Lei said very matter-of-factly as she plopped back down onto the recliner with a slice of pizza on a paper plate in her hand.
“You talked to your mom?” Quinton asked, deliberately changing the subject.
Lei nodded. “She and Larry are in Jamaica,” she said, with an eye roll.
Quint eyed her. “You don’t like Larry?” he asked.
“He’s okay . . . I guess. He don’t talk directly to me, like he’s slow or thinks I’m slow,” she said, peeling a pepperoni from her pizza to pop into her mouth.
Quint closed his eyes and shook his head. “He’s probably not used to kids.”
Lei shrugged. “All I know is Kaitlyn and me—”
“Kaitlyn and I,” he corrected.
“There is no Kaitlyn and you, Daddy.”
Quint opened his mouth and then closed it, not bothering to explain that he was trying to corre
ct her grammar. Lei was a straight-A student and he doubted she didn’t understand what he meant.
“So Mommy has a boo who thinks I’m invisible, and then you erase your boo from my life,” she said dryly, pulling a comical face. “Y’all really got it together for a future stepkid.”
Quint couldn’t believe he was being compared to Vita. Impossible. He had to literally bite down on his bottom lip to keep from saying, “Don’t compare me to your mother.”
Instead, he said, “I always make decisions with you in mind, Lei.”
She turned in her recliner and faced him.
“Can I say something to you?” she asked politely.
That set Quint back a bit.
“I love you, Daddy,” she began, reaching over to pat his hand in an assuring way.
Quint looked hesitant.
“It’s okay to admit when you are wrong,” Lei said gently.
What the hell?
“When was I wrong?” he balked.
“No one is perfect, Daddy,” Lei said, with another pat.
A flashback of Kaitlyn’s words was brought forward by his daughter’s little life lesson to him: “Whoa. All that judgment from Mr. Perfect is a little much.”
Quint scowled. “When was I wrong?” he asked again.
“Kaitlyn.”
Quint reached for the bottle of water sitting on the end table between them. He took a healthy swig.
“Can I say something?” he asked her.
Lei nodded as she took a bite of pizza.
“You are killing me with the Kaitlyn hints, little lady.”
“Oh, so you have noticed,” she countered.
The doorbell sounded.
“Pretty hard to miss,” Quint assured her dryly as he rose to his feet.
Her chuckles followed him out of the room.
Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn.
Missing her wasn’t enough. Now he had his thirteen-year-old daughter giving him advice, filling him in on her business, showing him random pictures she took of Kaitlyn from their days living in the apartment complex. She was in his dreams and waking thoughts.
Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn. Kaitlyn.
Quint opened his front door and his eyes widened.
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