by Anna Edwards
“You don’t look so scary in fluffy slippers.” He looks down at my feet, then lets his eyes rake over the rest of me. I pull my gown closer around me, suddenly feeling chilly.
“How do you pop up everywhere?” I ask, honestly intrigued. What is it with me running into this guy?
He says nothing, just holds the pizza out to me.
"Oh, yes. I—" I rush back inside to grab a few notes off the coffee table, leaving him standing at the door.
“Thanks,” I say, handing the money over and taking my pizza. “Why’d you lie though?”
He cocks a brow questioningly.
“In the article, you said I begged you to kiss me.”
"It's just an article. People want a bit of drama," he merely remarks, backing away.
"It's Kenzie," I shout after him. I have no idea why, but I just want him to know.
I expect him to respond with his own name, but he just tips the brim of his cap to me and walks away, leaving me feeling like a fool.
Chapter Five
Kace
I am working in a fucking pizza joint when I should be working on my novel or doing nothing. The thing about being the runt of the litter is that there is no daddy to bail me out. I bet if my brother were in trouble, his asshole father would move mountains to make sure he was taken care of. The portion of my mother’s life insurance which she left to me wasn't much, but it has kept me going. I don't mind. I'm a simple guy, but I'm sick and tired of being looked down on because my job pays shit.
Why’d I have to run into what’s her name? Kenzie. Why’d she even introduce herself to me? It didn't help that she looked fucking delicious. That sexy ass and hair the color of snow, which shimmered in the light. She looks like she’d walked right out of a fantasy in that short little gown I wanted nothing more than to loosen. I’m insane. What the hell was up with me? She smelled great too. Sweet, like marshmallows. A woman like that had to be taken.
The chef rings the bell, signalling my order is ready. "Briggs!"
“Here you go, your majesty,” Dan mocks. What a fucking asshole. He is always on my case, but with good reason.
I pick up my order, and when I look at the delivery address, I let out a breath. This could not be happening to me. What are the odds?
I want to dump the entire order in the trash and deal with the consequences. Maybe I should just walk away. But then I remember why I started working here in the first place.
"Thanks, Dan," I say under my breath.
“Make sure you get back here in the next half hour. I am sick and tired of covering for you.”
I glare at him over the counter separating us. If it'd been anyone else, I'd have set his nose straight, but this is Dan, one of the only friends I do have, and I could never do that. He went out on a limb getting me not one but two jobs. I am not about to be ungrateful about it.
I pull up at the double-story house and get out, slamming the door behind me. I stiffen my jaw as I take in the fancy home. I'm surprised that they'd bother with a little pizza joint on the other side of town. The pizzas are pretty famous though. Don't they have cooks to do that shit for them? I take the stairs two at a time and ring the doorbell.
A young girl answers, and she beams when she sees me.
“Kace! What a surprise. How are you?” She jumps up, wrapping her arms around me, almost sending the pizza flying.
"Elaine." I try to keep the smile from my voice as I set her down, and she instantly loosens her grip on me and steps away sheepishly. She's never understood boundaries, not since she was a kid, and now at sixteen years old, she's practically all grown up. I haven't seen her in a couple of years.
“I can’t believe it. You’re really here, and you have my pizza. Did the delivery guy leave already?”
"I am the delivery guy." I motion to my cap.
“Oh,” her voice is small. “I didn’t . . .” She fumbles her words.
"It's all right." I give her a small smile. She couldn’t help who her father is, I suppose.
"I'll be broke at this rate," I hear a familiar voice from behind her. I contemplate leaving without the cash. The last thing I need is a confrontation. The money isn't worth it.
He walks toward me smiling. A smile I rarely receive. He’s greyer, stockier, and I hate him just as much as I did the day I walked out of his house.
He squints his eyes as he comes closer, then his eyes widen. “Kace?”
"Mason," I answer.
“Would it kill you to call me Dad?” His brows crease into a frown.
"You'd have to be one to earn that title," I mumble.
“What are you doing here, son?” The word grates on my nerves. I motion down to the pizza box, handing it to Elaine.
“Good to see you, Kace.” Her voice is small as she walks inside the house.
My father hands me a note, his shoulders sagging. “I expected more from you, Kace.” His voice is laced with disappointment. “I could arrange something—”
“Fuck off,” I hiss as I walk away from him. I don’t need to see the disapproval in his eyes. He doesn’t get to look at me like that. He has never been a father to me. He never taught me anything except to abuse his family and fuck everything on two legs. And the last thing I want is any help from him.
I jump into my car and slam the door. I reverse out of the driveway, and I'm sure I'm not going back to that dreaded pizza shop tonight. Maybe never. Fuck everyone.
"Jax . . .," I slur.
“Kace?” he answers groggily. “It’s three in the morning. What the fuck?”
I hear shuffling and know he’s making his way out of bed and into the passage. “Kace? You there?”
“Where else would I be, genius?” I chuckle.
“Are you drunk?”
“I might be. Rough night.”
“Did you drive to wherever the hell you are?”
“Give me another,” I shout to the barman who shakes his head. “I’ve been trying to get one more drink off him, but the asshole won’t budge.”
"Kace?" my brother's voice reminds me we're actually on a call.
“Jax, do you think I’m a fuck up?”
"No, bro, it's not that. I just . . ." He seems to choose his words carefully. "You need help," he breathes, sounding defeated.
“And Tiffany can do that?” I ask him, yawning.
“I have no clue, but I bet it’s worth a try.”
“And what if she realizes I’m the brother she should have chosen?”
"Trust me, baby bro, she wouldn't." We both laugh. "Where are you? I'll come to get you."
“Nah, I’m good. I’ll get a taxi.”
“Yeah right. The moment we ring off, you’re gonna beg that bartender for your keys.”
I rattle off the bar name, and he promises to meet me in twenty minutes.
Seated in Jax’s SUV, my head lolls from side to side. I can’t see anything in front of me. My head just spins. I take a sip of the water Jax insisted I drink. It’s soothing to my parched throat. The lights just speed by.
“I saw Dad,” I slur, my head flopping forward. “And Elaine. She’s grown so much. We have a sister, you know, Jax.”
Jax sighs. “Where did you see them?”
“The house. I was delivering pizza.” I laugh at the irony.
“How’d it go with him?” He casts me a sidelong glance. I don’t miss his hands gripping the steering wheel tighter.
“He was disappointed. He said he expected better from me.”
“That fucking—”
"You know what, bro, for the first time, I realize that even I expected more from me," I concede sincerely and hold his gaze for a second before he looks back at the road. "I've been messing about for years, living off my mother's death insurance and the measly salary I make at the paper."
“Don’t let him get to you, Kace.”
“Jax, I’m serious. I wanted to be a journalist, not a cheap knock-off. I didn’t even complete my degree. I wasted a scholarship and ended up in
debt all because I wanted to prove to him that I can do whatever I want in my life. I didn't want to be the son he could talk about at his parties and get-togethers. I wanted to be a loser."
“You’re not a fucking loser,” my brother shouts. “You’re far from that.”
I shake my head and look away from him. We arrive at his house, and I notice the living room lights are on. He looks in the direction of my gaze. "She waited up for us."
“For you, Jax. Ain't nobody waiting up for me.”
Chapter Six
Kenzie
I love making people more beautiful. Doing their nails and makeup, watching them transform their already gorgeous looks into photoshop-worthy end products. But the best part of my work are the clients themselves, who stop by and drop little snippets of their lives at my workstation, and one of my more challenging works of art just walked through the door.
"I am dying. I barely slept last night. Family drama." She sinks into the chair, and I laugh.
“Tell me about it. My sister is enough to drive anyone insane.”
Tiffany Carmichael is one of my favourite clients because she's a lovely human being. She has a heart of gold, and I'm always at ease talking to her.
"Just make me presentable. I have a dinner date with Jaxon tonight, and the last thing I want is for him to remember all the ways I've changed. I'm about to broach some tough topics too."
“Your wish is my command.” I laugh. “And good luck with the hard topics. I just had one of those with Will two weeks ago.”
“How’d he take it?”
“Better than I expected. Thank you for the advice.”
“Should I bill you?” We both laugh.
I send her off to Diane, my waxing expert, who will make sure she’s trimmed and tweezed in all the essential areas, including those eyebrows, which are insanely unruly.
I look around the shop, a product of years of beauty courses and accreditation. My father offered me a capital loan, and I was able to open this. Thankfully, our overheads were low, and we built our client base to such an extent we became self-sufficient, and I was able to pay off most of my loan. The people I work with are amazing in every way, and I am richer because of it.
Tiffany walks back to my station, ready for the ultimate makeover. I work my magic, and she falls asleep in the chair. I, unfortunately, have to fix her puffy eyes after that.
“You’re a magician.” She grins.
“You’re beautiful. It was easy,” I remind her.
"You're so good for my ego." She smiles at me. "We should have lunch soon," she offers. I wasn't keen on building friendships with my clients, but Tiff is a sweetheart, and it wouldn't hurt to actually make some friends outside of Mac and Layla, my receptionist.
I pace around my small living room at least ten times, phone in hand. I don't feel like eating pizza, but I can't resist seeing him again. I’m intrigued by this stranger, and I have no idea why. It’s for that reason I dial and place an order for focaccia bread with cheese. I'd eat a bit and take some for Layla. She loves that stuff. But in the middle of the order, I realize there could be several drivers on call for this. I decide to ask who usually does this area.
“Kace,” the girl on the line tells me. She sounds unimpressed. “But he hasn’t reported for duty.”
Could he be Kace? I had no idea, I didn’t even know his name. I thank her and wait, hoping Kace eventually reports for duty and delivers my food.
I iron my hair and opt for casual yoga pants and a T-shirt that makes my boobs look great. Imagine if the guy I’m waiting for turns out not to be Kace?
The doorbell rings, and my heart rate picks up. This is so out of character for me. Why am I stalking this guy? Mac would have a field day with this.
I take a deep breath and answer the door, and sure enough, there he stands. Kace, or Mr. N, whatever he wants to be called. He cocks an eyebrow.
“Your order.” He looks at the bread.
"Yes. I—" He motions with his eyes behind me, and I feel like an idiot. I retrieve the cash and return.
"Thanks," I say softly, and he practically snatches the money from me. He makes to walk away and then turns on his heels. He walks to where I stand and grips my chin, tilting it toward him.
"You wanted to see me again." His voice is low, and it makes me feel like a swooning teenager. "You asked specifically for me."
“I didn’t actually ask for you. I didn’t even know your name. That information was volunteered.”
"So, you didn't want to see me?" His voice is husky and velvety all in one, and I want him to keep talking.
“I didn’t. I do—" I’m such a fumbling mess.
“Which is it?”
I suck in a breath and nod. “I did want to see you.”
“Why?” he demands.
“I liked your articles.”
A smirk spread across his face. “What do you like about them?” His voice lowers an octave.
"Everything," I say below a whisper. It's a lie. I hate his articles. They're juvenile and not my kind of thing. My heart is racing and my mind not thinking clearly.
The heat between us is evident, and l silently beg him to kiss me. My head is spinning, my nerves on end.
“I—” try to sound confident, but words failed me.
"Goodnight, Snowflake. When you're ready to talk, you know where to find me." His gaze holds mine as he brings his face closer. So close that if I move an inch, we'll be kissing. But he backs away in the last second. He saunters away, leaving me out of breath and unable to understand what the fuck just happened. I’m not the kind of woman who falls so quickly.
I wake up the next morning wanting nothing more than to order pizza. Yeah, I am losing it. My last few relationships ended in disaster. Before Will, there was Lucas, another corporate sheep, and I was, well, me. I couldn't care less to play by anyone's rules. His parents didn't approve of our relationship, being the upper-class snobs they were, and instead of telling them where to get off, he decided he would try to change me. He offered to expand my brand, got in marketers and PR people, and then tried to sell me to a major franchise.
At first, I was swept up in Lucas. He knew all there was to know, had a brilliant business mind, and was good-looking to boot. But then, it started to feel unreal. I felt like he wanted to better everything I'd worked so hard to achieve. He tried to better my staff and my methods of doing things, and in the end, I wondered how much did he want to better me?
He begged me to reconsider us, told me he didn't care whether his family looked down on me, and I fell for it. At our engagement party, he told people I was a consultant for a major beauty brand. He didn't realize I'd heard him say that. I dropped the oversized engagement ring in his champagne and left. That was three years ago, and I was anti-relationship until Will, who swept me off my feet.
But Will was a control freak, and I could not handle that.
So why is it that Kace leaves me flustered? I should be running for the hills.
It’s not just his looks, and he is absolutely gorgeous. It’s more. It’s the way he looks at me, with such intensity, as if he’s trying to figure me out. It’s the fact that I don’t get why someone as talented as he is with words, to land a column in one of the city’s largest newspapers, is delivering pizza and working in cafes.
Maybe it’s those eyes that remind me that there are stories I want to know more about, and his was at the top of my list. He is different.
Mac and I are meeting at our usual Starbucks for coffee and cake. She's late, as usual, and I am tucking into my buttered scone already. My sister is always late. She'll be the one late to her own funeral. The bell above the door rings, and I continue to focus my attention on the newspaper before me. The spring colours are coming in, and I could not wait to stock up on nail polish and makeup to compliment that.
“Fancy meeting you here.” I look up to find Kace staring down at me.
I cannot stop the grin spreading across my face. “Kace. Hi.”
“Hello, Kenzie.” Even the way he says my name is sexy.
"Would you like to sit down?" I motion to the chair across from me.
“Can’t. I’ve got a deadline.” My heart and shoulders sink. Could he not see that I’m interested in him?
“But I can offer to take you out tonight.” I could tell he was as confused as I was about the offer. “Or we could have that pizza you like so much.”
I scrunch my nose. “I think I’ve had enough pizza to last me a lifetime.” He laughs. It’s a melodic sound and makes me want to laugh along.
"Okay, so dinner it is. I'll pick you up at . . . say, seven?”
“That’ll be perfect.” My insides clench. Was I actually going to go out with someone else this soon?
"I should get going." He smirks, and I flush. He has a gorgeous smile.
"Who the hell was that?" Mac whisper-shouts and makes me want to hide my face.
“It’s Kace, or Mr. N, as you know him.”
“And since when do you two know each other?” Her eyes are wide as he casts glances this way.
“Would you stop staring?” I swat her hand playfully. “He’s going to think we’re talking about him.”
“We are.”
I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean.”
“Go on, spill.”
I tell her everything up until him asking me to dinner.
“You sure do know how to catch a man, sis.”
My face burns. “I am not trying to do that,” I scold her.
"Yeah, yeah," she laughs, and I stick my tongue out at her.
I cast one more glance over my shoulder at Kace, who is concentrating on his laptop, pounding away at the keys. I wonder what his mind will conjure up next and whether I’d be a part of it.
Chapter Seven
Kace
Tiffany is entirely against counselling family, despite my brother insistence. She feels she wouldn't be objective enough or hard enough on me. Which is why I'm sitting across from a middle-aged man with wide-rimmed glasses and hair that's thinning at the top. He wears a white dress shirt with black stripes, and his beige pants look like they have seen better days. His office is dusty and dingy. The couch I'm sitting on looks like it was handed down several generations. Despite that, he seems friendly enough and offers me great filtered coffee, which is always a plus.
