Snow and Seduction (A Holiday Romance)

by Evelyn Moreau

  And just as he knew it then, Luke knew without a doubt, that it always would be.

  Chapter 4

  After a three-hours of listening to Madeleine prattle on about her ‘must-haves’ in the divorce settlement, Kennedy exited the subway stop at almost quarter to eleven.

  She had about a half-hour to visit with the one person she loved the most. Inside the aging building, a relic of the 1940s, a pint-sized spitfire waited for her. She wondered if today would be a good day. It was doubtful.

  Kennedy hated the fact that she couldn’t afford better accommodations for her abuela. She hated the fact that her grandmother was all alone, especially when her only child was still very much so alive. Thinking about her abuela was a welcome reprieve from the haze of her previous thoughts.

  She’d been obsessing about it all day. Not it.

  Him.

  Less than twenty-four hours since Roberta had told her about this assignment, and the man had dominated her thoughts for almost every damn second since.

  Luke Simon was one of the few regrets she had in life. Not to mention that he made the best outlines and cranked out notecards like a champ. He had been a certified sweetheart, and Kennedy walked all over him anyway.

  Now that that they were going to be working together, she wondered if he remembered her. Law school had been five years ago. So much time had passed. They’d both changed and evolved.

  Despite her willpower, she had kept up with Luke’s career over the years. She had to admit she was surprised he’d chosen divorce law. He never mentioned his passion for it while they were at Yale. It was unexpected because the Luke she knew wasn’t ruthless enough.

  But he had proved her wrong.

  He was one of the top divorce attorneys in the country. Starting his own practice a few years ago, he’d recently acquired some big-name clients and cemented his brand as a millennial upstart for marriages on the rock.

  Her sweet Lu had grown up and become a true shark.

  It didn’t make a difference. He was her opponent, not a long-lost friend. This case was something new for her to excel at. A challenge. It wasn’t even a real case. Only negotiations, she reminded herself. And if there was one thing Kennedy excelled at, it was getting people to see things her way.

  Brushing up on divorce law would be easy enough. As long as she wasn’t distracted by opposing counsel. Or by intense blue eyes. Or the many orgasms that Luke had wrung from her body whenever school had worked her into a tizzy. And definitely not the death strokes he delivered with his king-sized dick.

  Suddenly, she was imagining a naked Luke as she powered through the busy New York sidewalks. Her overactive mind filled in the details from memory of their two years of sexual romps. Firm, golden skin, dusted with a smattering of freckles on his shoulders, complimented her own buttery brown complexion. That body, made for sin, had been a surprise gift five years ago. Her body had been pudding in his hands. Everywhere he touched, her skin sizzled and melted.

  Eyes. Orgasms. Dick.

  All were easily forgettable. Right?

  Wrong.

  She didn’t need this headache. Or was pussyache more appropriate?

  With a sigh, she kept cinched her winter coat tighter around her and walked into CaringHands Senior Facility. Her sexy daydream immediately receded to back of her mind. There was nothing like the smell of stale urine to deflate a lady-boner.

  “Buenos dias, Senorita Kennedy. Qué gusto verlo! Cómo estás?” called out a sing-song voice from the front desk in the lobby.

  Kennedy’s eyes widened in delight as she took in the older woman seated at the front desk. She smiled and waved hello, “Hola, Senora Lorenzo! Bien, bien. Tanto tiempo! Cómo estás hoy?”

  Technically English was her second language since her abuelita raised her speaking only Spanish at home, though she picked up English easily once public school started. It was rare that she had the opportunity to converse in Spanish outside of speaking to her grandmother and at the local bodegas.

  A few nurses and admins passed through the lobby, so Kennedy switched back to English. “How is she today?” she asked, writing her name on the sign-in sheet attached to the clipboard on the counter of the desk.

  “Today is good. Nurse Amina told me so. Yelena is in good spirits this morning.”

  “Does she know I’m coming?”

  “Of course. You were all she talked about when I stopped by her room a few minutes ago. Her conejito was coming to visit and she didn’t have a drop of alcohol to offer you.”

  Kennedy grinned at the endearing pet name. Ever since she was a little kid, abuelita had nicknamed her conejito, little rabbit, because of her endless supply of energy and appetited for learning.

  “Well, I better not keep her waiting. Thanks, Mrs. Lorenzo.”

  “Anytime, mi amorcita. I’ll see you on your way out.”

  Within minutes, she stepped off a dusty elevator onto the ninth floor. Her stomach was in knots. For every good day abuelita had, there were so many bad days.

  She knocked on the door, labeled ‘Notyce,’ as she opened it. “Is this where the party room is? I was promised beer and queso,” she said in Spanish.

  The frail, older woman raised her eyes in delight. Deep wrinkles creased her brow and cheeks, highlighting the prominent cheek bones that hadn’t given way to age. Her brown eyes were only a little bright but held a telltale gleam of lucidity.

  “It’s such a challenge finding good hospital beer, ya know?” her abuelita responded.

  She shook her head and chuckled. This was a good sign. Yelena Kennedy’s sterling sense of humor was her trademark. No matter how difficult the situation, she’d always found energy for a joke.

  “Next time, I’ll remember to bring you a can,” she said, dragging a chair from the corner up to the bed.

  Her grandmother pouted her lips in mock protest. “Child, have I taught you nothing? Beer is best sipped from an ice-cold bottle. With a lime. You can’t put a lime in a cheap can! I swear, you’d think you were raised by heathens.”

  Kennedy caught both of the older woman’s small, bony hands in one of her own, bending down to kiss her brow. To the touch, she was warm with no chill. That didn’t stop her from pulling up the covers around her grandmother’s shoulders. Before sitting down in the chair, she smoothed a wayward curl, then patted the thick, ebony braid speckled with gray strands.

  “You’re right. My lack of beer decorum has brought shame and dishonor to our family.”

  “Oh, conejito, I’d be proud of you regardless. You’re one of the few things these old bones managed to do right.”

  Her chest tightened up at her grandmother’s words. She was the only human capable of making her feel those stupid, pesky emotions. “Don’t say that. You’ve done so much.”

  “Not enough, apparently. Any word from that daughter of mine?”

  “Not a peep,” Kennedy quipped.

  Yelena sighed, dropping her eyes to her folded hands. “Tell me something good, conejito. I need some entertainment while they have me cooped up here,” she flayed her arms, “in this place. What have you been up to?”

  “I won my case!” Not wanting to overwhelm abuelita’s precious lucidity, she kept the details to a minimum as she explained how Roberta had offered her a promotion and partnership. She conveniently left out the terms and conditions to get said promotion.

  “Enough talk of work. How did you celebrate? Tequila and body shots?” She was so excited to live out her fantasies through Kennedy.

  She shrugged. “No time for any of that. I’m not as wild as you, party animal.”

  Abuelita scolded her, “Don’t be coy with me, Kennedy Elena Notyce. These ears aren’t innocent and my plumbing down below ain’t broke. If I can’t leave this building, I might as well live vicariously through you. Now, tell me everything. Details included.”

  “I’m serious. I haven’t time for anything more than a few failed dates.”

  There was a calculated gleam in her grandm
other’s eye. “You know what they say, all work, and no play makes–”

  She groaned, “For heaven’s sake, please just let it go.”

  “If I tell you a story first, will that make you more comfortable?” Kennedy shook her head. Yelena pressed on anyway, “Fine, well, your grandfather and I just had migrated to America. Back then, acting on lust required patience. Ripping each other’s clothes off took much more time on account of bustiers, and knickers, and garter sets. Your grandfather, ay, Dios mío, he never let that slow him down. The secret was well-greased fingers and using his teeth–”

  Kennedy resisted the urge to dry-heave. “Have you no shame, woman?”

  Her grandmother unabashedly sat in silence, waiting impatiently. Old age wasn’t even to blame for her inappropriate nosiness. The woman never had a filter to begin with.

  They discussed everything together, with no shame or judgement. Yelena Notyce seemed determined not to fail her granddaughter the same way she’d failed her only child.

  Kennedy smoothed out her dress and waited out her grandmother’s silence. She wasn’t going to crack this time.

  “Si dios nos da licencia …,” she said quietly.

  Absolutely not, she thought, shaking off abuelita’s request to the ‘man upstairs.’ This was a set-up for a guilt trip for Kennedy not having procreated yet.

  God certainly would not grant her the opportunity of motherhood. At least she hoped he wouldn’t. There were too many other goals to accomplish. Her ten-year plan allowed for children after she solidified herself as a senior partner. Not now.

  Yelena shook her head and clucked her tongue. “How will I get grandbabies if you keep your legs closed?”

  “You have a grandbaby already. Me.”

  “Yes, you’re lovely. Truly. But I can’t hold you and sing you lullabies to sleep. Do you see these ancient arms?” she exclaimed, throwing off the hospital blankets and sheets. “They were meant to cradle a baby.”

  “Don’t you dare play the old lady card on me, abuelita,” she countered playfully.

  “All I ask is for you to stop being so selfish. Fall in love, get knocked up. Give me a baby to cherish.” She widened her eyes. “I don’t have much time left,” she said, thin lips quivering for effect.

  The drama. The antics. It’d been so long since she’d been on the receiving end of one of abuelita’s famous guilt-trips. Kennedy couldn’t resist laughing. “And if I skip the love part and just get knocked up? You’ll take care of el bebito?”

  Hands smaller than her own patted her arm. “I’ll raise her as my own Raquel, don’t worry. You’re too young to take care of her on you own.”

  Raquel.

  Yelena’s daughter, and Kennedy’s mother.

  Abuelita’s memory must have latched on to the baby inference, toggling her mind from the present to the past. Most likely she was reliving one of the many conversations between her and Raquel, trying to convince her to keep an unborn Kennedy.

  Yelena had never been the embodiment of a textbook Catholic, however, she was strongly against abortion. And she strongly advised against giving away a baby for adoption if there was a better option.

  Family stuck with family. Kennedy imagined she would do whatever it took to protect the flesh of her flesh, even if it meant raising Raquel’s baby as her own.

  “I know you will, mama,” Kennedy said, playing along. Ruining the memory mid-conversation would only disorient Yelena.

  “Have you picked out a name for her yet? You’re due in three months!”

  “I was thinking about Kennedy.”

  Yelena clucked her tongue in disapproval again. “So American. How about Alejandra as the middle name? To honor my mother. Kennedy Alejandra Notyce,” she said, testing out the name as if she’d never heard it before. “Si, it has a ring to it.”

  “Then, that will be her name. It’s time some for rest now, my love.”

  The older woman yawned. “So sleepy. Must have stayed up too late with BOB,” she winked, before righting the wayward covers. “I bought a new one, you know. They call it a bullet.”

  She wasn’t even surprised that her grandmother had a stash of vibrators. Old ladies had needs too, she supposed. She shuddered.

  At least Kennedy came by her horniness honestly.

  “Te amo, mamá,” she said, the words tasting acidic on her tongue.

  She hated pretending she was Raquel. Her mother was the prodigal daughter that abandoned her family. The tiny crack in her heart that had never healed, started to expand.

  Kennedy bet that Raquel didn’t even know her own mother was in the hospital, suffering with advanced dementia and Alzheimer’s. How could she? She only called when she needed money. Once Kennedy had explained in no uncertain terms that she would never fork over cash to a junkie, the calls stopped coming altogether.

  “Te amo, Raquel. And remember, mamá will fix this. Don’t you worry, mi princesa.” Yelena blew her kiss.

  Kennedy caught it and made a show of putting the kiss in her pocket. She put on her coat, beelining for the lobby, then the front door. She caught a glimpse of gray hair and picked up the pace.

  Not today. Please not today.

  “Ms. Notyce? Would you mind waiting just a moment?” a voice asked.

  Damn the morning to hell.

  She stopped in her tracks and turned around. “Director Penbonne, great to see you. All geared up for the holidays?”

  “Not exactly. Thank goodness we still have two more weeks.” The thin gray-haired woman frowned. She ran a hand through her hair, tucking the auburn strands behind her ear.

  “What can I help you with, Director?” Kennedy struggled to keep her smile pasted in place.

  “Listen,” the Director started slowly. “I hate to deliver such bad news, especially with the holidays around the corner but…”

  “It’s quite alright, what’s wrong?” she asked, taking a closer look at the envelope in the woman’s hand. Stamped in bright red on the top were two words that she dreaded most.

  Overdue Balance.

  Kennedy braced herself.

  “Our Accounting Department is tidying up their annual financial reports and there seems to be a rather large outstanding balance on Yelena’s account.”

  Instead of saying the number aloud, Director Penbonne took the coward’s way out. Pale fingers extended towards Kennedy, lightly gripping the envelope.

  Tucking her phone in her purse, she quickly revealed the account balance. She blinked. Then scanned the numbers again.

  “I’m sure there must be some mistake. I knew that I was a bit behind in payments, but surely not by this much.”

  “I know how diligent you’ve been with your payments, so I had our accountants go over the numbers twice. I’m afraid there is no mistake.”

  “I see.”

  “If there was any other way–” the Director started.

  Holding up her palm, she cut off any further comments. “You’re just doing your job. It’s not your fault. At all.”

  She did some quick math in her head. How could she come up with $75,000? Her cash reserves were abysmal. Pay day was at the end of the month, which was too many days away. She whittled down her choices to two equally craptastic options.

  She could either swallow a piece of humble pie and beg Roberta for a cash advance, even though she hadn’t secured her promotion. Or she could take her chances with the bank and request yet another loan.

  “I’ll pay a good chunk of the balance in January. I promise,” she pleaded to the Director.

  To her chagrin, she wasn’t buying it. “I’m afraid will need the entire balance in full.”

  She clenched her teeth, offering a brittle smile. “I understand. The entire balance of,” she swallowed before mustering up the strength to say the number, “$75,000 will be paid to the Facility the day after Christmas.”

  The walk to Simon, LLC was eventful.

  She was at war with her emotions. Oh how she hated them, the dreaded beastly things
. Emotions and feelings were the bane of her existence.

  As she neared the elevator, her panic started to get the best of her. Not about the negotiations per se. They were preliminary anyway and her legal instincts were her superpower.

  She tried to recall the last time she’d failed at her job, or even in law school. Nothing came to mind because, and yes, to toot her own her horn, she was that damn good.

  What she knew was that she was prepared. Well, as prepared as she could be under such dire short notice.

  What she didn’t know was how her interaction with Luke Simon was going to pan out. That, she wasn’t prepared for. Not in the slightest.

  Alone in the elevator car, she studied her reflection in the mirrored wall. Ingrained in her since her teenage years, the best defense was a perfect red lip, a flawless mane and sky-high stilettos.

  Satisfied with her baby-smooth brown skin, Kennedy tucked a wayward curl behind her ear, and primped the rest of her springy, chocolate coils. Luke Simon and Rex Jones wouldn’t know what hit them.

  Madeleine, her client, agreed to turn up a few minutes after Kennedy arrived. This way she’d have a few minutes alone with Luke to feel him out. Either they’d work together, making this process as easy as possible, or it’d be a proverbial duel to the end. Both options worked as far as she was concerned.

  The speakers in the elevator blasted with holiday music, immediately transforming her smile to a grimace.

  Bloody hell, she just couldn’t seem to escape the holiday cheer.

  Chapter 5

  He was fucked.

  Royally fucked to be exact.

  Kennedy Notyce was scheduled to walk into his lion’s den but somehow Luke was the nervous one.

  He had waited anxiously in the main conference room with Rex seated next to him. He briefly contemplated standing up and pacing until she arrived. Sitting in a chair would put him in a less dominant position.

  Should he stand up? He placed his hands on the table and pushed his chair out.

  No, that’d be weird. He wiped his sweaty hands on his suit trousers and sat back down.