“But, of course. I know people worry so much about it these days, but to truly experience the finest Caesar, one simply cannot leave it out. Please, try it and you’ll see. I promise I use only the freshest of eggs. You’re in no danger of getting food poisoning,” he said through gritted teeth.
“I’m sure it will be lovely. Thank you,” she said, her smile faker than any I’ve ever seen before, and that was saying a lot. Her brow was pinched, leaving a deep crease between her eyes. Not for the first time, I wondered what the hell was going on. We hadn’t shared many meals together, but she never struck me as the overly picky type.
I tried to make conversation with safer topics while she moved the greens on her plate around with her fork.
“How is your new book coming along? Is it an Alexis Lane or Reina Dare book?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t another touchy subject.
“It’s not. I’ve pushed my deadline back, so I can concentrate on Limitless Lust. It’s taken up a lot more of my time lately,” she said giving me a pointed look, then sighed. “It’s okay though. I can’t seem to concentrate long enough to write, anyway.”
“Is something distracting you?” I hoped it was me.
“You could say that,” she mumbled as the waiter returned with another glass of water. “Would you mind just bringing an entire bottle for the table? I’m afraid I’m very thirsty.”
The waiter nodded before hurrying off.
I tried to eat my salad, but nothing was going the way I imagined. I thought she’d love the food, and I could take little jabs at her to provoke her temper. Instead, she seemed highly uncomfortable with just about everything. She fidgeted in her seat, played with her napkin, and took sip after sip of her water.
Finally, Stefan came out of the kitchen, his hands laden with a large tray. I knew she wouldn’t be able to resist this. Two giant Porterhouse steaks with garlic and herb seasoned new potatoes and yellow squash drizzled with decadent cream sauce took up almost the entire surface of our plates. He placed them down in front of us, smiling broadly. I’d told him how fond she was of very rare steak, and I knew he’d prepared them to perfection himself.
Alexis’ eyes widened with excitement, and she grabbed her knife and fork before he even set her meal in front of her.
“Oh, Stefan. This smells fantastic,” she said, cutting into the tender meat immediately. Stefan stood by proudly, waiting for her to take her first bite and shower him with effusive praise. Except once she cut into the meat and the juices just poured right out, she went pale. She turned to Stefan, a pleading look on her face.
“I’m sorry, Stefan. I’m sure this is wonderful, but do you think you could take this back and cook it a little more? I’ve come to like my steaks, ah… medium these days.”
I thought Stefan was going to have an aneurysm.
“Mr. Kingsley, this woman is impossible,” he said passionately. “I can’t cook for her. You’re going to have to give my sous chef a shot at whatever shitty menu she wants for her event or hire someone from outside. I refuse to put any further effort into this only to have her turn her pointy little nose up at it like she’s a famous food critic.”
I’d expected Stefan’s display of temper to fire up hers, but instead, she cowered in her seat, sniffling softly. Something was definitely wrong here.
“You, lady,” Stefan said as he turned to Alexis, clearly ready to lambaste her for her lack of culinary appreciation. I immediately cut in.
“Thank you for your time, Stefan. That will be all,” I said sternly. It was one thing to pretend to give her a hard time but quite another to let him castigate her in my presence.
“But Kent,” he whined.
“I said, That. Will. Be. All.”
Stefan wheeled around and huffed as he stormed away. Alexis just sat there, dabbing her eyes with her napkin. Something was up, and now I meant to find out.
“Come with me,” I demanded as I stood up and tossed my napkin on my chair. I moved toward her, taking her hand, gently—but firmly—helping her up. She meekly followed me, making me believe not only was something wrong, it was very wrong.
I led her through the restaurant, all the way through the casino and lobby, up to my suite where I sat her down and gave her a bottle of water from my mini-fridge. I took a seat next to her on the sofa. She still sniffled, but remained quiet.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I asked softly. Fresh tears filled her eyes as she shook her head fiercely.
“It’s nothing, Kent. You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine,” she said without her usual determined tone.
“Alexis, we may not have had a lot of time together, but I know you. You know I do. Something is wrong, and I want to help. You just say the word, and I will do anything and everything I can to fix whatever it is. Is it us? I’ve been ready to fix that all along.”
“It is, and it isn’t,” she said, hiccupping. “I… I’m…,”
“Go on,” I urged her.
“Fuck!” she exclaimed, the Alexis I knew all too well raising her head finally. “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
“Do what?” I asked, completely bewildered before she rocked my world again, in a way I never saw coming.
“Kent, I’m pregnant,” she said with an exasperated breath.
Twenty-One
Alexis
I don’t know what compelled me to spill the beans, but as our dinner had gone along with each dish being placed in front of me something that was on the no-no list for pregnant women, it just seemed like it was so obvious. Then when the damned tears and sniffling came along, I felt like I didn’t have a choice. There was no good or even believable lie I could tell that would explain why I was crying after Stefan almost yelled at me. Kent knew me well enough to know under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t sit and take it. So, I told him.
Kent sat there, stock still and silent. I wanted to poke him to see if he’d turned to stone or if he’d simply fall over. I guess he hadn’t suspected a thing.
“Say something,” I said, seized by another round of emotions. I was so afraid. I didn’t know what he was thinking, but none of it could have a good outcome. I never should have said anything.
“I… I don’t know what to say. I wasn’t expecting this at all,” he said slowly.
“Surprise!” I muttered with a weak cheer.
“It sure the fuck is. I’d ask how this happened, but that would be stupid. We didn’t even think about being careful.”
“We didn’t think at all,” I said, shaking my head.
“What do you want to do?” he asked hesitantly.
“I’m going to keep it. I hadn’t planned to be a mom so soon, or maybe even ever, but I want it.”
Kent let out a heavy breath, his hand over his heart. He turned to me, his face alight with excitement.
“Thank God,” he said, his relief obvious. “I was terrified you were going to tell me you were going to have an abortion.”
“No, no. I didn’t even think about one. I earn enough money to support him or her, and though my child’s first word might be motherfucker, I think I can manage to at least raise a decent human being.”
“Our child. Not yours, ours,” Kent said emphatically.
“Kent, I didn’t tell you because I want anything from you. As far as I’m concerned, this is my baby. You can keep living your life just like you are now.”
“No fucking way. I’ve looked forward to being a dad my whole life. I had a great childhood with two loving parents and three pain-in-the-ass siblings who have made my life hell since each one was born. I love them all and always wanted a family of my own with a wife I loved like my dad loves my mom and at least three of my own pain-in-the-ass kids.”
“This won’t prevent you from having all that.”
“You’re goddamned right it won’t, it’s going to be the beginning of it. Alexis, I told you before, you’re mine. I planned to chase you from here to the end of the Earth until you finally realized
we’re meant for each other. Now, we don’t have time to waste.”
“Goddamn it, Kent. This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” I complained, my anger finally starting to rise. “I knew you’d believe it was some kind of new start for us or challenge or whatever you want to call it, but it doesn’t change a thing between you and me. We don’t work. Accept it.”
“Not on your life, sweetheart. I am going to prove to you before our baby is born that you and I are meant to be. Just stop fighting me.”
I grabbed my purse from the cushion beside me, looping the strap over my shoulder as I stood up. I rested my closed fists on my hips and stared down at him, eyes narrowed yet focused.
“Get whatever bright idea you think you have out of your head right now. There is no us. I may not be able to keep you out of this baby’s life legally, but you can damned well stay out of mine.”
I turned and walked calmly toward the elevators, not expecting a fight. Yet a fight is exactly what I got. I felt his hand at my elbow, yanking me back.
“You can’t run away this time, Alexis. It’s about more than you and your fear. I’ll let you walk out of this suite tonight, but don’t think for a minute I’m letting you go—now or ever.”
“We’ll just see about that,” I hissed. I pulled my arm free and pressed the elevator call button, strolling in confidently when the doors opened. I turned and looked at him as I pressed the button for the lobby. The look on his face was fierce, and I wondered if I’d made a grave mistake telling him.
“What do you mean your event coordinators are on strike?” I all but shouted into the phone. In the month since I’d left Kent in his suite, there had been a rash of emergencies, something new every week. First, Tallulah called me and insisted I choose the colors for the event. I thought black and purple with gold accents would give the right feel, so I directed her to look for decorations and other accessories along those lines. That gave rise to a phone call two days later when she insisted I fly out to look at swatches so I could choose the perfect shades. Apparently, midnight black and royal purple have many subtle variations. I bit my tongue and made the trip.
The following week, Dustin called, wanting me to come back to “audition” a few chefs they’d found from outside the hotel. After my first disastrous experience with Stefan’s preparations, I tried to get him to ask Andrea, but again, I was met with the Kingsley Hotel’s insistence they only deal with me. After ensuring there would be no food I wasn’t allowed to eat, I made the trip again.
The week after that, the author line-up was announced, and I thought I’d get a break from all things Kingsley related, but that was not to be. The primary event coordinator, I could never remember her name—Milly or Tilly or hell, even Billie, for all I cared—called and said we needed to start planning the seating arrangement. I couldn’t understand why all these details had to be attended to with six months to go before the signing, but I was advised “The Kingsley’s dot every ‘i’ and cross every ‘t’ far in advance.” I asked her to email me the room dimensions and the table sizes, but she insisted I come see for myself. At that point, I knew it didn’t matter which argument I tried to make, no one would settle for anything less than a personal appearance. Yet again, I bit my tongue and made the goddamned trip.
Now, I had Kent on the line, insisting I temporarily relocate to Las Vegas because their entire event coordinating staff was “on strike,” and he needed me on hand for every detail that might arise.
“Are you trying to tell me there is a union just for event coordinators?” I asked incredulously.
“Yes. It’s the, ah, Occasion Planners Local 815. They’re very powerful in Las Vegas, what with all the events that go on in this town,” he said, his voice just a little higher than usual.
“I don’t believe this shit. There’s not anyone in your hotel who’s cross-trained or can stand in?” I asked as I began pacing my living room. If I’d known the Kingsley organization was so high-maintenance, I’d never have gone to them in the first place. I was the client—shouldn’t I have been the one making the high-maintenance demands?
“No, Alexis. It would violate all kinds of union rules, and this town doesn’t take kindly to scabs. You’re perfect since you’re a client, not an employee. There’s no conflict with you doing the job since it’s technically your event,” he said sternly.
“Kent, all this traveling isn’t good for me,” I said, flopping back down on my sofa, my forehead cradled in the hand not holding the phone. “I’m so exhausted these days, and you guys are running me ragged.”
“That’s why I want you here daily. Some days, you may not have anything to do at all, but on the occasions when we need you urgently, you’ll already be here. You won’t have to pack, travel, go to Gage and Stacy’s, get a ride here, etc. etc. All you’ll need to do is take an elevator ride or two. It’s the perfect solution.”
“Let me call you back. I’m going to consult with Andrea and see what she thinks about all this. She may want to take over at this point.”
“Unacceptable. You’re our designated contact. We won’t deal with anyone else.”
“For Christ’s sake. Fine! I’ll make the arrangements, but don’t expect me tomorrow. It’s the weekend, and I have plans.”
“With whom?” he asked suspiciously.
“With my goddamned pillow! I’m going to sleep. When I’m not sleeping, I’m going to binge on comfort food and The Hallmark Channel.”
“Alexis, you better not be feeding my baby junk food,” he cautioned me. “Otherwise, I’m coming out there and bringing you back myself.”
“I’m not eating junk food,” I said. “I just want things like pancakes, bread, pasta, rice, and potatoes. Gravy might be involved at some point.”
“You remember we have some of the best pancakes in the world at our buffet,” he reminded me helpfully. God, just the thought of them and those juicy, ripe strawberries almost had me packing my bags.
“I want to stay in my pajamas in my bed, Kent. I’ll be there Monday morning. I’ll let you know what time my flight gets in.” With that, I ended the call. Fuck him. Nothing was getting in the way of my slumber party with myself.
When I arrived at the Kingsley offices on Monday, Kent was there to meet me and show me to a vacant office.
“This will be your spot for the next six months. If you need any staff, whether clerical or otherwise, let me know. For now, my assistant, Faith, will be on hand to help you find anything you need,” Kent said as he waved me into the small, but cozy office. It had a smaller version of his desk, glass top with chrome fixtures, a matching credenza, one guest chair, and a soft-looking beige loveseat to the side.
“Wonderful. I look forward to meeting her. I do need at least one person to tell me where to start. I’ve been relying on you and your staff’s expertise to bring this all together. Is there anyone who can help me plan?” I said, looking around as though there might be some event planning gnomes lurking about.
“I’m glad you asked. After we got off the phone on Friday, I made a call to the one person I know who can throw a party together like no one else can. She’s graciously volunteered to work very closely with you on this project. I’ll still oversee it, but you can look to her for any immediate guidance you need.”
“That sounds perfect. Who will I be dealing with?” The dazzling smile he gave me in return made me wary.
“Adele Kingsley. My mother.”
Twenty-Two
Kent
I smiled to myself as I strolled back to my office. The look on Alexis’ face when I told her she’d be working with my mother was priceless. She was stunned and frankly, seemed a little green around the gills. Good thing she seemed to be out of the morning sickness phase. Otherwise, I might have been wearing the repeat of her breakfast. Gross, but it would have been worth it.
I’d finally attended one of my family’s weekly breakfasts and filled them all in on what was going on. Mom, Dad, Jasper, Dustin, and Tallulah were all suppo
rtive and excited—especially my mom. I had to explain Alexis’ steadfast refusal to allow me to be a part of her life and her begrudging acceptance I’d be an active part of our child’s life. I went into great detail about my love for her and determination to win her over. I told them I wouldn’t rest until she agreed to be my wife, but I needed all their help. The Kingsleys had always been an all-for-one, one-for-all family, despite the eternal infighting between its offspring. One may always be plotting to murder another in their sleep, but collectively, we were an unstoppable team.
Since that breakfast a month ago, before I set the plan to bring Alexis out here full-time in motion, we had weekly strategy meetings. Each person had a part to play, and my brothers and sister had already put their jobs into action with their calls to bring her out weekly. My Dad would take more of a backseat role, handling the business matters so I could focus on our plan while the biggest part would be played by my mom. She was my secret weapon.
As Faith was giving Alexis a tour of the office and making introductions to our operations staff, my mom strolled into mine. She looked dynamite in a pale pink business suit, her dark, glossy, brown hair cut in an angular bob, framing a face that showed hardly a line or crease in her smooth skin. She was fifty-five years old but could easily pass for someone ten years younger. I suspected she had some cosmetic help with that, but since I valued my balls and she wanted grandchildren, I’d always kept my mouth shut. Now with one on the way, I still wasn’t going to say anything. I wanted more than one child, and well, I was as attached to my balls as they were to me.
“Is she here, yet?” my mom asked by way of greeting, tossing her white Chanel clutch purse onto one of the chairs, taking a seat in the other.
“Yes, she is. Good morning to you to, Mother,” I said as I rounded my desk to kiss her cheek. Leaning back against the glass furniture, I crossed my arms over my chest. I was excited, but I was scared, too. My mom and Alexis were cut from the same cloth. Mom was beautiful, sharp minded and tongued and didn’t take any shit. She, too, had a penchant for foul language when riled. Either she and Alexis were going to get along famously, or they’d kill each other. I was betting on them becoming thick as thieves. If I got my way and Alexis became my wife one day, I knew they’d gang up on me whenever they felt like it, but a lifetime of them both busting my chops would be worth the benefits of being a family with the only woman I ever truly loved, the only woman who actually ‘got’ me.
Quick Dirty Luck: A Love Between the Pages Novel Page 14
