Love Redone

by Peyton Reeser

  Reflecting on her own choice of attire, Shannon had opted for serene and relaxed by dressing in soft and comfy yoga pants and a baggy shirt. The clingy stretch pants outlined her womanly curves in a way that perhaps was not wise in this situation, and the loose shirt did more to accentuate her bountiful breasts than she first realized.

  While he had been in the shower, she had ruthlessly braided her wavy tresses in a long, tight plait that hung over her shoulders adding a pair of warm, bright pink socks to cover her feet. Well, she sniffed in irritation, she might look comfortable, but this odd state of affairs was anything but.

  * * *

  In the kitchen, Nick was going through the motions of preparing a hearty dinner for the two of them, as though keeping busy and paying attention to domestic detail was going to magically stop the chaotic emotions churning inside him.

  Somewhere during the hours of quiet introspection, he had realized that just a few weeks ago he’d been locked in intense negotiation with a powerfully connected Asian tycoon over a deal worth hundreds of millions that came with global political ramifications. Hell, the damn State Department had even sent discreet inquiries his way to find out what was or wasn’t developing.

  He’d been prepared, had done months of intense research. With a touch of ruthless arrogance, he’d approached the negotiating meetings with a singular focus—to simply throw down his requirements and then say, “In or out?” That Nicholas Barrett dealt from a hand of supreme self-confidence with never any doubt whatsoever that he would walk away with his desired outcome realized.

  He’d come to California on a high, the deal having turned out even better than he’d hoped, looking forward to some much-needed downtime. Sun, fun, family. It all seemed so simple, and yet, now look, Nick thought.

  Mr. High and Mighty with the swaggering overconfidence was without warning or expectation up to his eyeballs in the most important negotiation of his life and feeling like he didn’t have a leg to stand on.

  As if all of yesterday wasn’t enough with its dramatic reveal, medical crisis, and the emotionally overwrought, explosive aftermath. No, heaven forbid! Let’s add some more, he bit out in his rampant thoughts.

  The events of the morning were going to be etched forever in his memory, and try as he might, he still didn’t know how to deal with all that he’d discovered. All that they were discovering.

  Gone was any sense of self-assurance. Nick hadn’t a clue what to say or do next. There was no plan, just an ever-intensifying jumble of feelings and memories keeping him off balance.

  Pulling a tray of ingredients from the refrigerator, Nick set about gathering what he’d need for the grilled-steak-and-potatoes dinner he was making for them. He might be uselessly tongue-tied and clueless where Shannon was concerned, but he did have a sense of order and grasp on what was needed to at least be able to feed them properly.

  No culinary novice, Nick actually enjoyed cooking and got a special thrill from anything involving fire, so he was pleased when he discovered a state-of-the-art stainless-steel chef’s grill installed on Shannon’s lovely private patio. Now this he could do, Nick thought with silent confidence. He’d impress his wounded little bird, who clearly wanted so badly to fly away from him, with his domestic skills, and hopefully over a pleasant, relaxing meal they could try again to find a way to bring them closer instead of this deafening, silent separation.

  As he moved confidently around Shannon’s enormous well-appointed kitchen, Nick busied himself with the task at hand while thinking that he may not have an exact plan as of yet, but he did have a desired outcome. At least that was something to keep in mind.

  Back in the living room, Shannon was restlessly flicking through the unseen pages of some random magazine when Nick appeared from the kitchen area that had been emitting glorious aromas for the past hour making her tummy rumble in eager anticipation.

  Without a word, he marched up to the sofa where she reclined with her injured foot nestled on a stack of pillows, giving her scant seconds to throw down the useless magazine she’d not really been reading before he calmly picked her up and marched back in the direction of the dining room.

  The silence was becoming ridiculous, Shannon thought, but no matter how she tried, words just wouldn’t form fully enough to find their way out of her mouth. While she worried about her sudden lapse into muteness, she had unconsciously been touching his neck again where her arm was held around his shoulder. Not the first time she’d caught herself all but stroking the area around and under his ear when her fingers had contacted skin. In fact, she seemed to automatically find and connect with skin each time he picked her up or came close in any significant way.

  Her mind might be screaming are you stinking crazy, but her body was most definitely screaming something else. Was it instinct or reflex? When he came near, she touched him. Had to. Without thought or pretense. Just because she had to.

  She was sending him mixed signals, and she knew that, too, and didn’t like herself so much either for doing so. She disliked the games men and women played, and by choosing isolation over complication, she felt herself above all the mess and drama she saw in the relationships around her. She should just make it clear that she wasn’t interested in exploring a future and have that be it. Signal sent. Over and out. Who was she trying to kid? Shannon sniffed in dismay.

  Each time she entertained walking away from this strange opportunity they’d been given, she felt a frantic sense of loss and doom that stopped those thoughts dead in their tracks.

  She didn’t know what any of this meant, and maybe all that was really happening was a way for them to get real closure, but she did know that she liked when he picked her up and she even liked the way his gruff take-charge attitude grated on her nerves.

  By the time they reached the high-ceilinged dining room with the subdued lighting coming from beautiful Tiffany-inspired lights, Shannon had determined to be calm for whatever followed and to try not to overreact to every little thing. Maybe that was a good way to make a fresh start.

  He had set the table with her vintage multicolored dinnerware. It was all casual and soft, no sharp edges for them to get caught on, the perfect metaphor for what they would face across from one another at a dinner table.

  Settling her comfortably in one of the wide, sturdy mission-style chairs arranged around the big wood table, Shannon couldn’t help but express quiet pleasure at his efforts.

  “Nick, this is lovely. The table, the lights. S’wonderful,” she croaked out.

  Clearing her throat and trying again, she added, “Something smells delicious.” And she didn’t mean him, although truth was, her senses had been overcome with the scent of him.

  Reminding himself to just keep breathing and to keep on putting one foot in front of the other, Nick tried for calm even though he was oddly anxious. He wanted this dinner to be perfect, and at the moment, he doubted his ability to make that happen. Telling himself he was being foolish, he decided to let things unfold as they were meant to and tried to relax a bit.

  Inclining his head a fraction to acknowledge her compliment, Nick announced with the enthusiasm of a world-class chef, “I’ve prepared grilled marinated cowboy steaks with grilled potatoes dressed in rosemary vinaigrette with an au gratin made with grilled vegetables.”

  As the words tumbled out of his mouth, Nick laughed at the end and added with a deep grin, “Clearly, the theme of this meal is grilled! I hadn’t realized until right now that I must have been operating on one track of my mind!”

  His deep laughter at the realization of what he’d done was the perfect ice-breaker, allowing Shannon to join in with a delighted giggle. Men, she thought. They’d grill ice cream if they could!

  Clapping her hands like a child at a party, Shannon smiled into his laughing gaze, saying, “Mmmmm…grilled beast! I’m so excited!” She hoped her reference to a jokey term they’d used for whatever odd animal was turning on a spit over a fire at meal times on the African continent would bring happ
y memories to the conversation.

  Beaming like a lucky man after her funny reminder of better times, Nick went into super-butler mode, which made Shannon giggle even more. “May I offer you a beverage, miss?” he asked with mock solemnity as he bowed low over his arm.

  “Just hurry up and feed me!” Shannon laughed.

  He gave a softly sexy growl and said, “As you wish, my lady!”

  Shannon stayed as she was, virtually on the edge of her seat as Nick returned to the kitchen. She watched the twinkling lights bounce off the crystal and silver on the table and listened to her heart while she waited for him to return.

  The meal that followed was beyond delicious. Better than anything she’d ever had at her table, making Shannon smilingly declare, “You are going to make someone a wonderful wife, Nicholas Barrett!”

  His answering grin and the shocking slash of color that framed his prominent cheekbones made her heart skip more than just one beat.

  “Oh my! This is incredibly delicious, Nick,” Shannon cooed after her first few bites of food. “Where did you learn to cook like this? It’s fabulous! If I remember correctly, you could barely spread peanut butter on bread!” she laughed while continuing to ooh and ahh over the incredible meal Nick had prepared, taking one bite after another and then another in wide-eyed wonder.

  “Actually,” he shrugged, “I took a cooking class. Might have been all thumbs before, but now…well, I can pull off an entire six-course meal.”

  Before she had properly swallowed what was in her mouth, Shannon’s shocked, “You took a what?” made Nick all but fall down laughing. He’d well and truly shocked her. Taking up the advantage his unexpected comment had delivered, Nick plowed ahead now that he had her undivided attention.

  Chuckling as he forked a huge chunk of perfectly grilled steak into his mouth, Nick pantomimed his own eye-rolling enjoyment, which brought another smile of delight from his dinner companion.

  Shannon tried to wrap her mind around the concept of Nick taking a class in anything, much less something as mundane as cooking, while she delighted in each delectable morsel. “You are a man of many surprises, it seems!” she teased. “However did you find your way to the culinary arts? Seems like an odd choice considering how peanut butter challenged you were!”

  “I know, right?” Nick laughed. “It wasn’t planned, believe me. Just sort of happened. A couple of years ago, I was checking out a high-end retreat and spa that our hotel division had opened. I prefer first-hand information, so with a little subterfuge and careful travel planning, I took my mother for a lavish get-away to test the quality of the experience our guests would receive. Staying anonymously so we didn’t get any special consideration, we checked in and then made arrangements to indulge in spa treatments and a whole host of healthy-living workshops. The cooking class was just one of what was on offer. I also took a wine-tasting class and learned the fine art of watercolor painting! We had a ball. Mom so enjoyed the facility and luxurious amenities that she took her posse of lady friends there for a retreat not too long ago.”

  “Well, you must have been an excellent student because this is so much more than just cooking, Nick.” Waving her hand in emphasis at the glorious meal spread on the table before them, Shannon said, “Anyone can learn the basics, but this…this is something else altogether. I love the layers of surprising flavor in the side dishes, the textures, and the way everything complements each other. You always were an over-achiever!” she giggled.

  Nodding his head at the compliment, Nick felt a surge of immense satisfaction shoot through his body. She babbled on for a bit while he basked in the warmth of her undivided attention. Before long, the dinner conversation became more serious as Nick encouraged Shannon to say whatever was on her mind.

  “Your business is quite diverse. Actually, I have no idea what your companies do.” She shrugged. “I check out the bestseller list every morning and not the business pages, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that I know nothing about global Barrett and what all that means.”

  “The company my grandfather built was huge, diverse, and involved in a lot of dry, uninteresting stuff that would boggle most minds. I jettisoned the interests that”—he paused for a long time before finishing—“didn’t fit my view of things”

  Shannon noticed how his jaw tensed at the mere mention of this grandfather, who loomed large on the distaste meter. The man must have been a nasty piece of work. She’d never known Nick to exhibit anything other than perfect manners and an even disposition. The way his eyes dimmed whenever Randolph Barrett was part of the conversation let her know just how much the old man had impacted the life of his family.

  Feeling brave, Shannon asked Nick point blank why he hadn’t used his family name when they’d met. This one detail had haunted her thoughts. Maybe she was expecting some sort of cloak-and-dagger answer or a wild tale about avoiding his birthright. Instead she was mildly surprised to learn that Temple had simply been his mother’s maiden name.

  “There’s nothing nefarious about why I didn’t use the Barrett name, Shannon. Hell, outside of the boardroom or away from the negotiating table, the name holds no particular cachet. It’s not like being a Rockefeller or even a Kennedy… Now that’s instant name recognition. It wasn’t like that all,” he admitted.

  “From the time I was a little kid, like the first summer I went to camp even, I went by my middle name. Dad insisted. Years later I would understand that this was one of the ways my father kept our little family far away from my grandfather’s watchful eye.”

  Shannon didn’t say a word. She just sat there and listened. The house seemed uncommonly still as the evening fell upon them, so very quiet. It was just the two of them with no background noise. There wasn’t a TV left on somewhere in the house or music playing. The ambiance was quiet and reflective, just like their moods.

  “Mom was and is a Southern girl at heart. My dad fell fast and hard when they met. Randolph, of course, didn’t think a genteel Southern family operating a hundred-year-old general store in the same county where they’d lived since the 1800s were blue blood enough for the new moneyed Barretts. Asshole. To their credit, my parents didn’t give a damn about Randolph and his narrow view of life. When I came along a year and a half after they married, they gave me mom’s maiden name, Temple, probably just to piss the old man off!”

  Shannon smiled just a little at that. His parents sounded like people she would like, and she was momentarily staggered by how awfully the loss of the father he so obviously adored had affected Nick.

  “I always went by my middle name whenever I stepped outside the rigid confines of New York City and the Barrett influence. It never occurred to me to ever say ‘And oh, by the way, my last name isn’t Temple.’ Honestly, Shannon, even when I was at Oxford I didn’t use Barrett. Yeah, my diploma carries the name, but it was never intended to be a subterfuge of any kind.”

  Very solemnly, he added, “I’m not that big a prick.”

  Shannon considered what he’d said while she sipped a hearty California cabernet that perfectly complemented their dinner fare. It seemed safer just then to turn her gaze away and concentrate on the crystal goblet in her hand.

  He was basically telling her that he hadn’t been pretending to be someone he wasn’t. With a heaving sigh, Shannon realized this was yet another piece of their painful past narrative that would need to be rewritten. She was uncomfortable with some of her behavior toward him in light of what she’d been learning.

  From there, the conversation became lively and engaging as Nick suddenly launched into a fascinating explanation of all the changes he’d brought to the company, especially in the area of new technology and green energy. He talked enthusiastically about carbon-neutral footprints and how he wanted to help bring about planetary changes to benefit all of humanity.

  This was the Nick she remembered. Lit up like a Christmas tree, full of ideas and strategies to bring about effective progress. Once again, it seemed the more things changed,
the more they stayed exactly the same.

  He laughed joyously, telling her about his latest Asian adventure, which started out as a straightforward business acquisition but ended with Barrett getting a wind farm complex in the deal. It was like giving him the keys to the candy shop!

  In a gesture that appeared totally absentminded, Nick scooted his chair closer to Shannon’s as he talked and patted the top of his thigh in signal for her to give him her foot. So engrossed was she in his storytelling that she did so without hesitation. It all seemed so natural in that moment. The two of them, hanging out and talking.

  She was a great person to bounce ideas off of and asked smart questions. He liked that about her. She wasn’t all silicone-injected, spray-tanned, Spanx’d to the max, and dumbed down to the nth degree like so many of the social-climbing career women he’d become used to.

  As had become a habit, he gently massaged her foot while they continued talking. He must have picked up on some of her hippy-dippy L.A. habits and found himself sending healing energy through his touch to her injury. She didn’t hesitate quite so much at every small contact now as she had previously, a good sign not only that she was feeling better but that she wasn’t still barricading herself behind a wall of anger.

  She asked what he liked doing the most, and he found himself telling her about his and Alanna’s plan to open several niche hotels and spa retreats. The first, a funky hacienda complex with world-class private bungalows located in the desert southwest, was slated to open in the spring.

  Nick was still working on her ankle when he told her that the reason his mother had missed Dom’s big party was because the cruise she was on with her sister was actually a scouting trip to assess Mediterranean resort possibilities. He got her laughing with stories about the endless emails she’d been sending him, usually with pictures of everything from what their food looked like to how much it cost to buy bottled water, and promised to show her the latest when he pulled his phone off the charger.