by Susan Stoker
As much as Aleck was enjoying her support, he still wanted to make sure she understood why he was telling her the story. “She got under my skin—in the worst way. I didn’t date for over a year after that because I couldn’t trust anyone, and when I finally started, I was much more careful when it came to telling anyone about my wealth. Hell, I might’ve even been able to handle the bitch wanting to be with me because of my money; at least that wouldn’t be very surprising. But the fact that she wanted to marry me because my job is dangerous, and she was counting on me getting killed in action so she could get her hands on my money sooner…that was nearly impossible to wrap my head around.”
Kenna took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I understand. I’d probably be just as wary as you are if I was in your shoes.”
Aleck couldn’t believe she was letting him off the hook so easily. “I should’ve said something,” Aleck told her. “It was cowardly of me.”
“I didn’t really give you a chance,” Kenna offered. “And I was pretty judgmental about rich people. I’m sorry for that.”
“Still. I could’ve said something before we got out of the Jeep. Or when you told me your plan on getting past Robert at the security desk. Or even after we were sitting on the beach.”
“Are you seriously trying to talk me into staying pissed at you?” Kenna asked with a small laugh.
Was he? It hadn’t been his plan, but now that she’d pointed it out, Aleck realized that was exactly what he was doing. Unintentionally, but still. “Shit,” he muttered.
Kenna giggled, and the sound seeped into his pores and settled into his heart.
“You hurt me,” Kenna said honestly. “I was mortified when Elodie and Lexie let it spill that you lived at Coral Springs. I bitched about you to Carly on our way home from Food For All today, and you know what she said?”
“What?”
“That I was a bons. A reverse snob. She pointed out that most women would be over-the-moon excited if their boyfriends had money. I thought about that a lot this afternoon before I called. I’ve had so many people look down on me because of my job and tell me I could do so much better, that it’s made me wary of anyone who makes a ton of money. I don’t like you because of what you do, Marshall. Or because of how much is in your bank account. I like you because of who you are. But I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—I don’t like secrets. Is there anything else I need to know? Any other big reveals you need to make? Now’s the time if you do.”
“No. Although I have to point out again that there’s a lot I’ll never be able to tell you about my job,” Aleck said a little warily.
“I understand that, and it’s okay. I’m more concerned about things like you having a fatal disease or that you’re married with children or something.”
“No, absolutely not. Kenna?”
“Yeah?”
“I really am sorry. I hate that I made you feel bad.”
“Me too. But now that I know, we’re moving on. I had fun with the girls today.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. Did you know Lexie’s friend Theo is a damn good artist?”
“He is?”
“Yeah.”
For the next few minutes, Kenna talked about her day and about the mural Theo had painted on the wall of the annex of Food For All. Then they talked about Carly and if she’d seen Shawn—she hadn’t—and how the rest of the day had gone.
“I know you work the next three nights, but I was wondering if maybe we could hang out Friday for a while?” Aleck asked. “Maybe go to lunch?”
“Don’t you have to work?” Kenna asked.
“If you had time, I was going to ask my commander if I could take a few hours off. I just…I want to see you. Apologize in person. Make sure we’re okay.”
“We’re good,” Kenna told him. “And you don’t have to apologize again.”
“Yeah, I think I do,” Aleck said.
“I’d love to have lunch with you on Friday,” Kenna told him.
Aleck let out the breath he’d been holding. “And we’re still on for Sunday? For the swap meet and dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
“So…is the view from your balcony as good as Elodie and Lexie said it was?” Kenna asked.
“Yes,” Aleck said simply.
“I can’t wait to see it,” Kenna said.
Aleck fully relaxed for the first time since he’d read her text earlier. Instinctively, he knew not telling Kenna about his money could be an issue, but he hadn’t realized how terrified he’d be that she’d tell him she didn’t want to see him anymore.
Kenna was different. Special. And he wanted to see where their relationship could go. And making her feel humiliated wasn’t exactly the best way to bring them closer. But he felt ten pounds lighter now that she knew.
They continued their conversation after that, about everything under the sun. Their jobs, friends, families, hometowns, she even told him a little about her accounting job back in Pennsylvania. He told her some funny stories about SEAL training and admitted that it was the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life, but it was the thing he was most proud of as well.
When Kenna yawned, he glanced at his watch and saw they’d been talking for an hour and a half. It wasn’t exactly late, but Kenna had been busy all day, not to mention probably extremely worked up over what she’d learned about him. This was her one night off all week, and he wanted her to get some sleep.
“I’m gonna let you go,” he said gently. “You’re tired.”
“I shouldn’t be. On a work night, I probably walk about twenty-five thousand steps. I haven’t come close to that today.”
“Still,” Aleck said. “Get some sleep.”
“Okay. Marshall?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for being honest with me.”
“Thank you for coming to me with what you heard. Communication is the key to a good relationship, and while I obviously failed at that, I promise to be better.”
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow?” she asked.
“Of course. I’ll call during my lunch as usual,” he told her.
“Okay.”
“Sleep well, babe.”
“I will. Bye.”
“Bye.”
Aleck hung up the phone and collapsed back against the cushions of his couch. He stared into space as he did his best to process everything. He knew he could’ve lost Kenna. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, and he’d do anything in his power never to do so again.
It was crazy how fast a woman could change his life. He lived to talk to her and to hear how her day was going. Even though they’d only hung out in person a couple of times, he craved more. It sucked that their schedules were so different, but that wasn’t going to deter him. He had a feeling Kenna could be the best thing that ever happened to him, and he made a pledge to do everything in his power to show her how much she meant to him.
With that thought, he shot off a text to Elodie, asking for dinner menu suggestions. He wanted Sunday to be perfect, to prove to Kenna that he was a man she could rely on, trust, and be happy with.
Chapter Twelve
Kenna was in a great mood when Saturday rolled around. Lunch with Marshall on Friday had been awkward at first, but he’d taken her in his arms and apologized once more, asking for her forgiveness. She’d reassured him that she’d already forgiven him and they were good.
He’d taken her to Chiba-ken, a sushi restaurant she’d been dying to try, but hadn’t had a chance to yet. Apparently, he didn’t even like sushi, and when she’d asked him why on earth he’d picked this restaurant for lunch, he’d simply said, “because you wanted to eat here.” Her heart just about melted right then and there.
He’d ended up getting the asparagus wrapped with pork. She’d gotten the sushi platter, and proceeded to stuff her face with the three different kinds of sushi that were included.
It was clear to her that Marshall Smart was one of
the good ones, as Carly promised. Kenna had been afraid he was too perfect, and she now knew that wasn’t true. He’d messed up by not coming out and admitting he lived at Coral Springs. But he was sorry, and Kenna had apologized again too. If she hadn’t been so judgmental, he might’ve fessed up sooner.
She was also still pissed off at the woman he’d dated who’d been hoping he’d die so she could get her hands on his money.
Kenna knew money was important. She wasn’t an idiot. But who he was as a person far outweighed the importance of his bank account, in her opinion. She could take care of herself. Had been taking care of herself. She didn’t need a man, or his money, to make her happy. She just wanted and needed someone who enjoyed being with her, treated her and others with respect, and who she could talk to.
And Marshall fit the bill on all accounts.
Work on Thursday and Friday had been fairly normal. Saturday nights at Duke’s were usually a bit crazier. More tourists, more alcohol, and—most of the time—more tips.
Halfway through her shift, a family came in…and Kenna just knew they were going to be trouble. She got a vibe from them that made her feel as if all was not right in their world. The man was large, more round than tall, and he wore a scowl on his face. How anyone could be grumpy in a place like Duke’s, in Hawaii for goodness sake, was beyond Kenna.
The woman was thin and fairly short. Her shoulders were hunched as she followed behind her husband when Vera led them to their table in Kenna’s section. They had a child, a little boy, who looked to be around four or five. His eyes were wide as he took in everything around him, but he didn’t say a word as they were seated.
“Thanks, Vera,” Kenna told the hostess after she handed them their menus. “I’ve got it from here.”
“Enjoy your meal,” Vera said cheerfully.
“If we didn’t have to wait for an hour to be seated, I might’ve had a better shot at doing that,” the man muttered.
Kenna mentally sighed, but did her best to stay upbeat and positive as she went over the specials for the night and taking their drink orders.
The man didn’t ask his wife or son what they wanted to drink, he just ordered for them. But since neither protested, Kenna assumed it was probably what they always ordered. She wasn’t thrilled that the man ordered a bourbon, neat, but she wasn’t the alcohol police. She just hoped he wouldn’t get drunk. She had a feeling the more alcohol he had, the worse his mood would get.
As she headed for the kitchen, Kenna said a silent prayer that she was misinterpreting the situation and everything would be just fine.
But an hour later, she knew her concerns had been spot on. The man had ordered four drinks so far and proceeded to down each almost as soon as Kenna had put them on the table. He was loud and obnoxious, complaining about how long it took for the food to be delivered and the temperature of their meals. He didn’t like how noisy the restaurant was, or the music out by the Outrigger Hotel’s pool. He constantly glared at his wife, though Kenna had only heard her say one thing the entire time she’d been serving the family. And that was to apologize profusely when she admitted that she’d dropped her fork and needed a new one.
Of course, her husband called her a clumsy bitch, which made Kenna want to scream. Their son seemed unnaturally quiet, and she hoped he was just uncertain about his surroundings. Or shy. She’d done her best to engage both the wife and the little boy, but the man’s complaints made it hard to have any kind of conversation.
Kenna had just returned to their table with the man’s credit card when the shit really hit the fan.
He’d tipped a measly ten percent, but Kenna was honestly pleased he’d left her a tip at all. It seemed the more obnoxious a customer, the less they always gave. She still needed to package up the leftover hula pie they hadn’t been able to finish, and had just turned to head back to the kitchen for a box when the little boy stood and wandered off toward the beach, as his father bitched about something or other. Since Duke’s was an open-air restaurant, there weren’t any walls between the tables and the beach. Just a couple of stairways with maybe four or so steps each.
The boy had been looking wistfully toward the beach and ocean throughout the meal, and Kenna smiled to herself when she saw him give into his longing to get a closer look.
But his father obviously wasn’t happy with his son wandering off. He sprang out of his seat and took the few steps required to reach him, grabbed a handful of his shirt, and jerked him backward.
Kenna could only stare in horrified shock as the man smacked his son across the face, then swatted his butt, hard. “You do not leave our sides!” he shouted, pointing a finger into the boy’s face. “Hear me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sit your ass back down. Now.”
Kenna already had her phone out. There was no universe she lived in where she would not report abuse. Didn’t matter if it was an adult to a child, a man to a woman, or even a woman to a man. She quickly explained to the police what had happened and implored them to hurry as the family was getting ready to leave.
She managed to stall them by lingering in the kitchen for much longer than she would normally when a customer was waiting for something. But she needed to give the cops time to get there. Luckily, just like the other day, they arrived quickly, and Kenna met them at the front of the restaurant. She explained what had happened and pointed out the man.
The second the man saw the police officers headed his way, he completely lost his cool. He stood up and started swearing loudly. Kenna watched from a distance as the officers tried to have a calm and rational conversation with him, but when he drew back his fist to hit one of them, all bets were off. They had the man on the ground with his hands cuffed behind him before he could follow through with his physical threat. One officer hauled him up and out of the restaurant, while the other stayed behind to talk to his wife and son.
On his way past her, the man glared and hissed, “You’ll be sorry, bitch. You’re nothing! Lower than the dirt on my fucking shoes. You shouldn’t have fucked with me. I’ll—”
“Come on,” the officer said harshly, cutting off whatever threat he was going to spew next. “I think you’re in trouble enough, let’s not add threatening your waitress to that list, shall we?”
Then he hauled him down the small hallway toward the exit…and hopefully right to his cop car sitting at the curb on Ala Moana Boulevard.
Kenna was a bit shaken at the hatred in the man’s tone, but did her best to shake it off. She looked back at the table where his family were still sitting. The little boy had a large red mark on his face from his dad’s abuse, and was quietly playing with a toy police shield the officer had obviously given him.
Kenna couldn’t hear what was being said, but she prayed the woman would press charges. If anyone dared to hit her child like the man had done to his son, Kenna would’ve lost her mind. She hurried back into the kitchen to grab a fresh piece of pie and a side order of French fries. She’d noticed the little boy seemed to love them, while he’d only nibbled on his hamburger. She supposed that giving him more of the greasy fried potatoes maybe wasn’t the healthiest thing, but she wanted to comfort him in some way. And since she knew he enjoyed the fries, that was the first thing she’d thought of.
As Kenna suspected, when she approached the table, the woman was shaking her head and telling the officer she didn’t want to press charges.
Mentally sighing, Kenna knelt by the boy’s chair.
“Hey, I brought you some French fries to take home. The cook said he made too many and was about to throw them away. I figured you might want them instead.”
His eyes lit up, but before he accepted, Kenna saw him look over at his mother. She nodded at him, and only then did he reach for the container.
Kenna put the piece of pie on the table. “And I brought you a full slice of hula pie instead of the half-eaten one from your dinner.”
“Thank you,” the woman said distractedly. Kenna could tell her mind w
as on other things. Probably how mad her husband was going to be when he was released and able to return to their hotel room.
“Can I call you a taxi?” Kenna asked.
“No, thank you,” the woman said.
“We’re gonna need your statement,” the officer told Kenna.
She nodded.
“You shouldn’t’ve called the police,” the woman said quietly.
“And your son shouldn’t ever be hit in the face. Especially not by his father,” Kenna returned.
The woman looked away without meeting her gaze.
Kenna sighed again. She hadn’t exactly saved the boy or the woman from being abused further. In fact, there was a chance she’d made things worse, and she fervently hoped that wasn’t the case…while adding a silent prayer that maybe, just maybe, the woman would eventually realize her son’s well-being was more important than staying with her bully of a husband.
The paperwork with the police didn’t take too long and luckily the other servers dealt with her tables while she completed her statement. By the time she got back to work, Kenna was exhausted. It was more emotional than physical. She never hesitated to stand up for what she felt was right, but that didn’t always mean it was easy.
By the time she headed home from her shift, Kenna was dead on her feet. Usually after situations like this, she didn’t want to talk to anyone. She just wanted to be alone. She’d normally rewind the incident over and over in her mind, finally falling into a fitful sleep in the wee hours of the morning.
But tonight, all she could think about was getting home and talking to Marshall.
She was able to resist calling him until she’d showered and put on the oversized T-shirt she liked to sleep in. She crawled into her bed, pulled the covers up, and reached for her phone.
Marshall answered after only one ring.
“Good evening, beautiful.”
“Hi.”
“What’s wrong?”
It was pretty wonderful how easily this man could read her. She’d only said one word, and that was enough to convey her state of mind. “Work sucked,” she said.