An audible gasp could be heard from the back of the house.
“Cooper Castelli, you get back to the kitchen this instant.” Jenny peered around a doorway, her eyes narrowed. “We are leaving. Now.”
“But, Mom,” Cooper whined, “Ty said we could watch Top Gear. It’s not fair.”
“Now, Cooper,” Jenny repeated.
Ty stepped toward him and ruffled his shaggy hair. “Do what your mom says, Coop. I’ll DVR tonight’s Top Gear.”
“Can you record the series?”
“Sure.”
“Cool.” He turned to Kendall. “I hope you get that stick out of your butt. It must hurt real bad.”
She nodded dumbly and watched him walk past his mother. Jenny sighed and moved into the hall. She looked like she wanted to drop through the floorboards.
“Sorry about that. Ty is a friend and he’s been hurt before by people he—”
“I’ll call you tomorrow, Jen,” Ty interrupted.
“Fine. We’ll let ourselves out the back.”
When she disappeared again, Ty turned to Kendall. “Would you like to come in?”
She hadn’t realized she was still standing on the porch. “I don’t think that’s a great idea. Jenny’s right and I’ve said—”
He grabbed her by both arms and pulled her across the threshold, slamming the door shut with his heel. “Sit down.”
She perched on the edge of the couch. “I’m sorry I interrupted you while you had guests.”
Ty stood in front of the fireplace, arms crossed across his chest. “You should be sorry. Not for stopping by—you’re welcome here anytime. But your little bombshell is a hell of a greeting.”
She crossed and uncrossed her legs, picked at the fabric of the couch. All to avoid his gaze. She felt uncomfortable and guilty at being called on the carpet. “I got my dream job. The rest shouldn’t come as a surprise.”
“I meant it when I said congratulations.” He closed his eyes for a moment. It killed her to see the pain on his face, to know that she’d caused it. It was an obvious struggle for him to remain calm. “I should probably uncork a bottle of champagne, but I’m not in a festive mood.”
“Me neither.” She stood, her emotions too jumbled to remain sitting. “This is my fault.”
His hand slammed against the brick fireplace. “Are you seriously using the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line?”
She thought about that for a moment. “No. I’m not. Because it is you. I told you from the beginning what I could give. You screwed it all up by being so strong and sweet and sexy and . . . you. You made me want more.” She poked him in the chest with one finger, holding onto her anger like a lifeline. Anger was better than the heartache ripping through her chest. “I’m leaving, Ty.”
“So what? This is the twenty-first century. You’ve heard of phones, texting, e-mail, airplanes. We can make it work.”
She wrapped her arms around herself. She wanted to wrap her arms around him instead, sink into his warmth so that the sadness that threatened to split her in two would melt away.
“I can’t. I forget my priorities when I’m with you, and I forget the plan that’s guided me through every challenge I’ve ever faced. I don’t know how to live my life without it.”
“I want us to be one of your priorities.” He took a step toward her, gentled his voice. “I love you, Kendall.”
She hadn’t known until that moment it was possible for a heart to literally break, but there was no other explanation for the stabbing pain in her chest.
She nodded. “I’m sorry. I wish I could make this easier. You have to understand, this is my dream and I can’t devote everything to it and still give you what you deserve. It’s twisting me up inside. I told you I couldn’t handle complications. Now my life is full of them and it isn’t fair to you or me. Love isn’t part of my plan yet.”
“Screw the plan.”
She ignored him. “The list goes: school, career, and then personal life. I can handle only one thing at a time.”
He gave a disgusted snort. “You’ve handled me fine so far.”
“Sex is different.”
He reached for her, pulled her hard against him, then gave her the softest, most romantic kiss she’d ever experienced. It left her reeling and hating herself for wanting more. “This is more than sex, even if you won’t admit it.”
“I can’t do this,” she whispered.
“We can do anything, sweetheart. I’m willing to do whatever it takes to be together.”
The heartache she felt was reflected in his eyes. “I’m not.”
She knew her words struck harder than any physical blow. For an instant, she saw raw misery in his expression. Then his features hardened, his voice grew cool and distant. “If you leave now, it’s over. No second chances.”
She forced herself to move away from him. “Good-bye, Ty,” she whispered.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When Kendall walked into the restaurant where she’d agreed to meet Owen for a drink before the Channel 8 anniversary gala, she didn’t imagine the hush in conversation that fell over the room. She’d returned from New York the conquering heroine of the newsroom and already her job offer was public news. Tonight was her moment to shine in front of the coworkers who’d written her off as nothing but broadcasting eye candy. She should be walking on air.
But all she felt was tired. Tired of checking boxes off a list but never feeling satisfied. Tired of allowing the outside world to define who she was.
She wanted to curl up and sleep, preferably in Ty’s arms.
Not a chance of that anymore.
Nausea churned in her stomach as she’d replayed the scene at his house. The look on his face said she’d wounded him to his core. And as much as she told herself she’d done the right thing, the words sounded as hollow as her heart felt. She had hurt Ty because she was afraid. Afraid of what she felt for him. Afraid that it was too much and would change her, make her weak and willing to give up on her dreams.
He’d said they could make things work, but she knew a long-distance relationship would never be enough. Every minute she was away from him, she craved his touch. A complete break was the best option, but believing that didn’t lessen the pain.
She dabbed at the skin under her eyes. She wondered if it was obvious how much concealer she was wearing to cover the dark circles that marred her face.
The evening air held a hint of warmth, the signal that spring finally had pushed away the long winter for good. The temperature wasn’t mild enough to account for the beads of sweat gathering at the nape of her neck.
She would have liked to cool off by removing her lightweight jacket but could feel half moons of sweat darkening the fabric of her pale-blue cocktail dress.
Owen rose from his chair as she approached the table. “Hello, there. You look lovely, as always.”
“Thanks, Owen. It’s nice to see you.” She stuck out her hand as he leaned forward to hug her. Her fingers jabbed into the surprisingly firm wall of his stomach. “Oops, sorry.”
They did an awkward little dance, trying to figure out how to greet each other.
Finally, Owen patted her on the shoulder and pulled out her chair. “Have a seat.”
A flash of light caught her eye. Next to the table sat a shiny silver bucket complete with ice and a bottle of what looked like champagne. She peered closer. Dom Perignon.
He met her questioning gaze with an embarrassed smile. “I hope it’s not too presumptuous. I thought a celebratory toast might be nice.”
“Could we order a bottle of something a little less . . . expensive?”
He raised a finger and a waiter appeared instantly. “Why settle for less than the best? I won’t.” An emotion she didn’t recognize flashed in his eyes. “Tell me about your new job.”
The waiter uncorked
the champagne bottle and poured two glasses. The golden liquid fizzed as it bubbled near the rim. “It’s everything I dreamed it would be. The network, the city. They’ve started talking about assignments already. There are so many opportunities there.”
Owen picked up his glass. “A toast to opportunities.” They clinked glasses and sipped the crisp champagne.
She set her glass on the table. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about an opportunity of a different kind.”
He nodded, his smile slipping a little. “As a matter of fact, that’s something I wanted to talk to you about as well.” He tucked two fingers into his shirt collar, adjusting it. “Do you mind if I go first?”
She nodded. The fact that he looked nervous was making her feel edgy. “Is something wrong, Owen?”
He shook his head. “I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. The whole on-camera dating experience was bizarre, but you have a gift for making people comfortable.”
“Thanks.” She watched him tip back his flute of champagne and drain the glass.
“The thing is, I’ve met someone . . .”
Kendall blinked several times.
The waiter appeared and poured more champagne. She took the moment to study Owen. His face was flushed, almost mottled, and she guessed it wasn’t from one glass of champagne. He mopped his napkin across his brow.
“I’m sorry,” he added when the waiter was gone. “I know we agreed to another date.”
Every single cell in Kendall’s body relaxed. She leaned across the table and patted his hand. “Please don’t apologize. I’m happy for you.”
He looked suspicious and maybe a little disappointed. “Are you sure?”
She choked back a laugh. “You’re a great guy. Any woman would be lucky to have you.”
“You mean lucky to have access to my bank account.”
She shook her head. “That’s not true. And I hope this woman, whoever she is, knows it.”
He couldn’t hide his smile. “The thing is, I think she’s turned off by my money. It’s crazy and makes me like her all the more.”
Kendall returned his grin. “You’re an interesting guy.”
“You know,” he said, looking embarrassed, “I have you to thank for meeting her.”
“Me?”
“Do you remember the landscaper you told me about?”
“Ty Bishop?”
“Right. One of his associates did most of the work on my garden project.”
Ty had associates? Kendall’s eyes widened. “Are you talking about Jenny Castelli?”
His smile stretched ear to ear. “She’s fantastic.”
Kendall quirked her head to one side. “Forgive me for saying this, but . . .”
“You don’t see us together,” Owen finished.
“Not exactly.”
“Neither does she. I’m going to change that. I’m crazy about her. She argues with me about everything, and it makes me feel more alive than I have in years.” His serious gaze pierced through Kendall. “I’ve been so focused on being successful, proving wrong all the people who doubted me, who looked at me and saw nothing more than a nerd who was good with numbers. I forgot all about creating a life beyond my ambition.”
His words hit home. Hard. “I can relate to that.”
“I sensed we were connected in that way.”
She lifted her glass. “May you find all the happiness you deserve.”
He tipped his champagne glass toward her. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”
She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “I did some research on your foundation, Owen. The mission is to promote the well-being of people in Colorado.”
He nodded.
“Are you familiar with the community near the site of the Silver Creek fire?”
“Only what I saw on the news right after the fire.”
“I’m doing a story on the area and how the residents are rebuilding their lives. We’ve uncovered some . . . unsettling information about the company that wants to redevelop the land. I can’t talk about the details until the piece runs, but when it does I want to make sure the people who live in that community aren’t part of the fallout.”
“And you think the foundation can help?”
“There’s a huge opportunity for conservation and restoration programs if they’re handled the right way. The potential devastation from wildfire is something that affects everyone in the state. If you knew—”
Owen held up a hand, smiling. “I’ll text you the name of our senior program officer. This could be exactly the type of initiative we’re looking to fund.”
“Thanks, Owen.”
They talked for a few more minutes before going their separate ways. As Kendall walked the few blocks to the gala, she thought about what she’d accomplished. As proud as she was of getting the job in New York, it didn’t satisfy her in the way she’d expected. Owen’s words about creating a life that was more than ambition rang in her ears.
Suddenly her mind cleared.
She’d spent so much time planning her life, she’d forgotten to live it.
Her entire body tingled as she saw New York City for what it truly was—one step on her career ladder but only a small piece of the life she wanted to create.
Ty had said no second chances, but he’d also told her he loved her. That couldn’t change in a matter of days.
She moved through the crowded reception area, not stopping even though many of her coworkers shouted out congratulations to her. She wanted to find a quiet corner to call Ty. She needed to get out of this place as quickly as possible so she could see him, be with him. She would do whatever it took to convince him to forgive her.
Just as she turned down a hallway, a hand fell across her shoulders. “Kendall.” Bob Cunningham smiled as he pulled her to him. “So good to see our own future network star. I have some people I want you to meet.”
Of all times for the station’s owner to notice her, it had to be this moment? Kendall turned and stifled a gasp as Eric and Libby Bishop stared back at her.
What were Ty’s parents doing here?
“We’ve already had the pleasure,” Eric said, as he took Kendall’s hand. Libby’s lips thinned into a line that might have passed for a smile.
“I hope you don’t mind, Kendall,” Bob said with a wink, “but I gave the Bishops an advance showing of your piece on Silver Creek.”
“Oh.” Kendall nodded and tried to think of something to say that didn’t involve defending Ty. She waited for someone to begin screaming or for Libby to reach out and slap her.
Eric said, “We were thrilled to see the work you put into it. Nothing like a little extra publicity to rev up interest before the lots go on the market.”
Before she could reply, the lights in the lobby blinked several times, indicating that the dinner portion of the event was about to start.
“We’d better take our seats,” Bob said. He gave Kendall a pat on the back. “I’m proud of you, Clark. You showed what you’re made of on this one. We’re going to miss you when you leave for New York City.”
The three of them turned as the crowd began inching toward the main room. Kendall stood rooted to the spot, confusion and unease clashing in her stomach.
“You showed exactly what you’re made of.”
She whirled around to see Ty standing in the shadow of the hallway. Her body quivered with yearning. “You’re here. I have so much to tell you . . .”
She took a step forward, but he leveled a look at her that brought her to a dead stop.
“You told me you’d do anything for your career. I should have believed you.” His voice sounded as hard as granite.
“What are you talking about?” She tried to understand what he was insinuating. “Why are your parents happy about the story?”
For
the first time she noticed he was wearing a tux. In the formal clothes, with his hair cropped and his face freshly shaven, he looked every inch the scion of his powerful family.
“Don’t play dumb, Princess.” There was an odd, dark note in his tone. “It doesn’t suit you. I get to be the fool in this scene. I watched the piece with them.”
“What did I do? Would you please tell me what the hell is going on?” She sounded hysterical but didn’t care.
“You turned our hard work into a promotional video for GoldStar. That’s what the hell is going on. All your talk about Helen Bradley and the community. About wanting to preserve the forest. Christ, if you ever get bored with reporting, you could win an Oscar with your acting skills.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course, your brand of journalism is acting—just like your dating. Save the good stuff for on camera.”
“I don’t understand,” she whispered, dazed by what he was telling her.
“That makes two of us.” He stared at her and for a moment she caught a glimpse of pain in his eyes so bleak it made her step back.
“Ty—”
“I came here tonight to show you I could fit into your world. No matter your doubts, I believed our connection was stronger. My love for you was stronger.” He shrugged off his jacket. “I even pulled out the damn monkey suit. But you were right. We don’t fit because I would never be with someone willing to sell out the people around her. You’re just like my parents. And as far as I’m concerned, you can have their world all to yourself.”
He started past her, but she grabbed his arm. “Ty, wait. Whatever the problem is with the story, I can fix it. You have to give me a chance. This is not how it’s supposed to end.”
He pried her fingers off his shirt, his gaze scathing as it raked over her. “Some things are too broken to fix.” He strode through the lobby without looking back.
Kendall’s mind buzzed. She had to find Liz and figure out what had gone wrong. As if on cue, the door to the ladies room opened and Liz walked out. “God, I need a cigarette,” she drawled. “For a scientist, that man has a flair for the dramatic.”
Kissing Mr. Right Page 20
