“You’re supposed to stay off your feet,” Rick said sharply.
Dammit, Raina thought. This fake heart condition would be the death of her yet. She hated putting her boys through the charade, hated the crimp it put in her social life, but it was necessary. She’d concocted the idea after she’d been rushed to Emergency a few months before with a diagnosis no more dire than indigestion. But her boys didn’t know the truth and Raina had used the situation to help her show them the error in their bachelor ways.
She’d allowed them to think she was seriously ill and in return, they’d grouped together to give her her fondest wish. Roman had been the son designated as the one to give her a grandchild. Raina still held out hope he and Charlotte would do just that, though Roman insisted he and his new bride needed time alone before starting a family.
But grandchildren weren’t all Raina desired. She wanted her sons settled, living happily ever after with the woman of their dreams and families of their own. She didn’t want them living lonely lives. She was one-third of the way there. Chase and Rick were next.
“Are you sick?” Kendall asked, concern in her voice. Raina drew a deep breath and covered her heart with one hand. “I had an episode a little while ago.”
“A weak heart,” Rick explained. “She’s got to watch her routine and her diet and that’s just a start.”
“So Norman’s been delivering meals and the boys hired a housekeeper.” While Raina had been keeping a bank account to pay her sons back when this charade was over. She hated their stubborn refusal to let her pay for her own care. And she was growing to dislike their hovering more and more.
But she’d created this situation and she’d see it through. So far, Kendall seemed like her best prospect for daughter-in-law number two.
“You’re lucky to have such devoted sons, Mrs. Chandler.”
“Raina, please, and yes my boys are the best. They’ll make wonderful husbands too. Just ask my first daughter-in-law. She nabbed Roman, the world traveler. Rick’s a little easier since he doesn’t have to be convinced to settle down. But you—”
“Ahem.” Rick cleared his throat loudly. “Mom, I like to romance women on my own, without your help.” Rick squeezed Kendall’s hand and she blushed a shade darker than her hair.
“So you admit to a budding romance?” Raina asked, pleased.
“Just leave the dishes, Mom,” Rick said, ignoring her. But Raina wasn’t deterred. Rick had never brought a woman to their family dinners before and Kendall’s presence spoke louder than anything Rick could have said.
“Cynthia will be here first thing in the morning to clean. Meanwhile, Kendall and I need to get going. I promised I’d help her bomb out a room or two so she could sleep in a clean house tonight.”
“Nonsense. She’ll stay here,” Raina said in the voice that shook her sons’ composure when they were young boys. “That place is a pigsty, not fit for a human being and a couple hours’ worth of cleaning won’t change that. No insult intended, Kendall.”
The young woman shook her head. “None taken. But I can’t impose.”
“You’d never be an imposition.”
“You’re sweet, but I’m used to being on my own.”
“And you young people want your privacy?” Raina guessed, relieved Kendall had turned her down. With a house guest, she’d have killed her prime opportunity to walk the treadmill when her sons weren’t around. When she’d concocted this scheme she should have labeled herself a heart patient, not a patient with a weak heart who had to curtail activity, but she hadn’t been thinking ahead.
Rick rose and Kendall followed. Then he placed a lingering hand on the small of her back. “We’re not going to answer anything private, Mom.” He leaned over and kissed her good night.
Long after Kendall had thanked her and gone off with Rick, Raina’s joy remained, making it difficult to wind down. She hadn’t seen her middle son laugh so freely in ages, not with a woman as the reason, anyway. Not since that Jillian had broken his heart. But that was the past.
Kendall was the future. And though Rick didn’t believe he’d marry again, Raina knew better. Thanks to Kendall and her impulsive nature, Rick would come to believe it too.
* * *
Rick held the car door open for Kendall, then strode around to his side and got in, buckling his seat belt before turning toward her. He held his hand high and she slapped it in return. “Mission accomplished.”
“You think?”
“I know my mother and she definitely believes she saw sparks flying between us tonight.” Because they had been, Rick thought.
But that was for another time. Shadows tinged the fragile skin beneath Kendall’s eyes as exhaustion obviously set in. She needed rest.
“She’ll call off the push for a daughter-in-law?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t say that.” He twisted his wrist and the ignition kicked in. “If anything she’ll step up her campaign.”
“So what was the point of tonight?” Kendall asked. “She’ll no longer be pushing other women on me. Instead she’ll focus all her attention on the one with the most potential.”
He glanced over in time to see her open and close those lips that tempted him so.
“You mean me?”
He grinned. “I most definitely mean you.” But Rick sobered fast because he had something more pressing to discuss with her. “Kendall, what kind of relationship did you have with Brian?”
She stiffened in her seat, laughter replaced by intensity. “I don’t think that’s relevant.”
“Sure it is. You said he did you favors and you felt you owed him.” Shades of their bargain had risen when he’d heard Kendall’s description, making him uneasy. “We’re entering a similar arrangement. I just don’t want you uncomfortable with me.”
“If you’re worried my past dealings with Brian will affect me pulling off the charade with you, don’t be. At this point I’m a professional,” she said wryly.
That’s what had him worried. In Kendall’s eyes, Rick didn’t want to be another man using her for his own gain. “I know he got you modeling jobs to pay for your aunt’s care. What did you give him in return?”
Kendall rubbed a weary hand over her eyes.
He grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight.
“Brian was coming off a broken relationship. He’d been hurt badly by a model whom he had to face often at industry events. He wanted what he called a pretty woman by his side to show his ex he was over her. He needed me to pretend to be his . . .”
“Girlfriend.” Pretend to be my girlfriend, Kendall. Rick had asked her to do the same thing.
The same thing that had sent her running from New York City in a wedding dress. And because she was desperate, she’d agreed. Which made Rick feel like a shit for putting her in the same predicament again.
He exhaled hard. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not. I don’t do things I don’t want to do,” she assured him. “And believe me I’m getting plenty out of this arrangement too.”
“Besides my wonderful company?” He forced lightness into the conversation.
“Yeah, besides that.”
She laughed, warming him inside and out. “What would that be?”
“By the time you’re finished fixing up my aunt’s house, I’ll be on my way to a brand-new life.” She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes, satisfaction and a smile on those lips.
Well, he’d asked and she’d answered. Too bad for him if he didn’t like her reply.
Chapter Four
For the duration of Rick’s “off” days, Kendall and Rick cleaned, fixed, and focused on making the guest house livable. Dust and dirt flew fast and furious along with the sexual tension and incredible sparks. Sparks they did their best to ignore or avoid. Kendall had a hunch they were merely tiptoeing through a minefield that was destined to explode anyway, but once Rick returned to his shift, she was given a reprieve.
Left alone, she turned her sights to the wo
rk area for her jewelry designs. Apartment living in New York City had offered her unnatural light that hampered her color choices and hence her designing ability. When her jewelry and a suitcase full of clothes arrived courtesy of Brian, she scoured the house for the optimal working environment, and upstairs in the musty attic she found large windows that let in beautiful natural light.
Excited and working on adrenaline, Kendall spent an entire day bombing the attic, removing the dirt, and setting up the card tables stored there. Hours later, her plastic containers filled with materials had been strategically placed, beads organized by size and color, and her tools laid out for easy access. She stepped back and eyed her handiwork. The attic had been transformed into an artist’s dream.
Ironic, really. She had the perfect studio set up in the same place she’d strung her first necklace, one made of varying sized pasta beads. It was here that Aunt Crystal taught her patterning, among other things. A wave of nostalgia along with the distinct feeling of loss enveloped Kendall. She missed her aunt as much as she missed what might have been, the life she’d have had if Aunt Crystal had been able to keep her on.
Kendall shook her head. No need to delve into the past. Live for the moment and move on, advice imparted by Aunt Crystal and wisdom Kendall had always followed. If the memories were choking her here in the attic, she’d just leave them behind and take on the town instead. Bracing her hands on her hips, she turned and walked out, grabbed her car keys and hit the road.
The sun shone overhead as Kendall drove her repaired, beloved red car into town. Her Volkswagen Jetta had had an electrical problem but the repair could have been worse and cost an awful lot more. So while the fates were still smiling on her, Kendall decided her first stop would be the beauty parlor to have her hair fixed.
She walked into Luanne’s Locks, the place Raina had suggested the night before. The strong ammonia smell hit her immediately, clogging her lungs and bringing tears to her eyes. When she finally stopped tearing, she was able to look around. Pink wallpaper, burgundy chairs, and gleaming chrome and mirrors surrounded her. A glass case with hair products took up one wall at the front of the store, a perfect place for Kendall’s jewelry to enhance the display—if the owner agreed to a consignment deal.
Kendall had approached many proprietors in various cities to take in her designs, and she hoped the owner would be receptive here. No one sat at the reception desk, so she headed deeper inside and paused at the top of one step that divided the entry area from the working one. For a small place, the salon was crowded with women and the chatter sounded loud and friendly, giving her hope.
Kendall drew a deep breath and paused by the first station. “Excuse me. Can you direct me to the owner or receptionist?”
“That’d be me.” The stylist, a woman with a bouffant hairdo reminiscent of the fifties, turned to face her, teasing comb in hand. “How can I help you?”
Kendall smiled. “I’m Kendall Sutton and I’d like to make an appointment.”
The stylist didn’t have a chance to answer. A customer seated in her chair leaned over, speaking in a stage whisper to another woman with rollers in her hair at the neighboring station. “It’s Rick Chandler’s new girlfriend,” she said, exercising her lungs.
The information traveled from the two manicurists sitting a few paces away and in seconds silence descended in the shop as all eyes looked at Kendall and none appeared friendly. The hope she’d held for winning over the store owner evaporated along with her positive mood.
Kendall had spent a lifetime as the new girl. She’d entered many a schoolroom or situation knowing no one, set apart from the crowd, and had learned early in life that she’d never be around long enough to let the opinions of others matter. As long as she felt happy and secure, as long as she lived an honest life and could look at herself in the mirror, that’s what counted—more wisdom imparted by Aunt Crystal, and words Kendall took to heart and carried with her always. Wisdom that never failed to buoy her spirits.
Until now. A strange feeling of discomfort enveloped her. Odd for someone used to being the outsider.
“Her hair’s pink.” The statement sounded like a shout in the otherwise silent room.
As half a dozen wide-eyed, curious women continued to stare, Kendall clenched her hands into a fist to prevent herself from lifting a finger to the strands. Her stomach cramped and self-consciousness set in. Another unfamiliar sensation for someone who’d never before cared what others thought of her.
She forced a grin and ran what she hoped was a carefree hand through her hair. “That’s what I came here to have fixed.” Though these people rattled her, she refused to let the insecurity show.
“Everyone go back to your gossiping and quit staring at the girl.” From the back of the shop, an attractive redhead came into view and strode to where Kendall stood. “You ignore these people.” She shook her head in disgust. “I’m Pam. I’m co-owner of this place, and the lady standing next to me with her mouth hanging open is my mother, Luanne.” She jabbed her mother lightly with her elbow. “The other owner, and one who’s usually a lot more polite to her customers.”
“Forgive my poor manners.” Luanne held out her hand and Kendall shook it. “Everyone was talking about Rick’s new lady friend and then I looked up and there you were.” Luanne lifted a hand to her mouth. “I’ll shut up now.”
Pam shook her head. “Good idea, Mom.”
“It’s no problem, really. Besides I’m sure this pink hair attracted the most attention.”
Pam placed her hands on her hips and studied her. “You really don’t know.” She shrugged and leaned closer, whispering as she spoke. “Mom’s serious. It’s not your hair, it’s your status that’s got them talking. Do you have any idea how many of these women tried to land Rick Chandler for just one date and failed?”
“I’d heard rumors . . .”
“Not rumors. Fact. I’m probably the only single woman in this shop right now who hasn’t made a play for the town’s favorite cop. I prefer light-haired men, but most women in this town aren’t so fussy. They just want the gold ring.” Pam waved her hand Kendall’s way. “Not that I think you’re after such a thing. I just met you. I wouldn’t know. But you get my point.”
Kendall nodded, dizzy from Pam’s speech. Used to big-city solitary living, Kendall wasn’t comfortable sharing intimate information with a stranger. But obviously nothing was too personal to discuss when in a small town. “Can I make an appointment for my hair?” Kendall asked, changing the subject.
Pam smiled. “Lucky for you, I’d taken the morning off to run errands and I got back here early. I’ll take care of it for you since—” She leaned closer again. “You don’t want my mom changing you from pink to blue. Mom specializes in the blue-haired set.”
Pam chuckled and Kendall found her light laughter infectious. “I’d appreciate your services.”
“Then come with me.”
Kendall followed Pam to the back room, doing her best to ignore the continuing stares, though she couldn’t help but feel some of the women were actually glaring behind her back.
Pam seated her in a salon chair and wrapped a black cloak around her neck, covering her from head to toe. “Ignore them, honey. This morning’s group of customers isn’t representative of our town as a whole, I promise.” Pam patted her on the shoulder. “Now, you want to go back to blond?”
Kendall nodded. “As close as possible.”
“Okay, we’re going to have to do some serious stripping before adding back some color.” Pam headed for a small closet like area, talking as she worked. “You may still have red tones even when we’re through. Red’s the hardest color to take and the most difficult to get rid of—unless you don’t mind going green.”
Kendall’s eyes opened wide and Pam chuckled. “Just kidding. I only want you to understand what we’re up against. It may take a few tries over a few weeks until the new color sets and takes.”
Kendall doubted she’d be here that long but
why get into that conversation with Pam. “Subtle red tones are fine. Anything more natural-looking than what I’ve got now,” Kendall assured her.
“Cut?” Pam poked her head out of the working closet. “I’ve been dying to try that Meg Ryan shag on someone but no one in town’s had the guts.”
Kendall glanced at her shoulder-length hair in the mirror. “I take it you want me to be your guinea pig?”
Pam grinned. “I’ll be your best friend,” she said in a singsong voice.
The chant was reminiscent of the childhood song Kendall had heard others use, but never about her. The happy lyric brought a lump to her throat and a longing for she wasn’t sure what. Kendall inhaled deeply. “Sure. Why not. Make me look like Meg.” She laughed, striving to shake off the unnerving feeling, the sense of loss that accompanied the knowledge that she’d never had a childhood best friend.
Once given permission, Pam squealed with delight. “You’ve got yourself a friend forever.”
That thought not only cheered Kendall but gave her something special she’d never had. “Back at you, Pam.”
For the next fifteen minutes, Pam chatted away while she worked and when she was through, Kendall had dye covering her entire head and a new friend in this town. But despite Pam’s warm demeanor, no one else in the salon attempted a friendly wave or even a hello. Kendall tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, but in her heart she knew it did.
In the four days she’d been in this town she’d come face-to-face with the things she’d never had in life—close friends and family. And for the first time, the loss hurt.
“Another twenty minutes and we’ll rinse you.” Pam set the timer and placed it on the counter. “Relax for a while, okay?”
Kendall did as she suggested and closed her eyes, ignoring the chatter around her, thinking instead of the best way to approach Pam about setting up her designs for display in the shop. Finally, all noises drifted far away and peace descended on her.
The Playboy (The Chandler Brothers Book 2) Page 6
