All's Fair in Love and Blood: A Romantic Comedy Novel

by Jennifer Peel

  Naomi’s face burned red. She was still unhappy about that situation. Auggie hadn’t let me see Naomi after the divorce. It wasn’t until Auggie was at his wit’s end trying to get me to talk that he let Naomi back into my life. She was my saving grace. I told Naomi what Christina, wicked stepmother number two, had put me through. That was the end of that marriage.

  Naomi composed herself. “Don’t even get me started on that woman. But let me start in on you.” She reached for my hand. “You, my love, are not a girl anymore. You are a gorgeous young woman who, unfortunately, hasn’t been told enough how truly beautiful you are inside and out.”

  “You’re biased,” I whispered.

  “No. I’m an objective scientist.”

  I giggled.

  She squeezed my hand. “I would never lie to you. You know that. Please start looking at yourself through clear eyes, not the critical eyes of the jealous women who marry your father on a regular basis.”

  “What do they have to be jealous of?”

  “You, of course. The only constant in his life.”

  “Constant nuisance, maybe.”

  “No,” she adamantly said. “Your father loves you. He does a poor job of showing it, but I know he does. Why do you think he wants you to come home every summer and during every school break?”

  I stared down at the table. “I don’t know. I guess because he expects me to be involved with Armstrong Labs.”

  “Yes, because that’s the only way the idiot thinks he can keep you in his life,” she growled. “So misguided,” she said more to herself.

  “I only want him to be proud of me.”

  “Honey, can I give you some advice?”

  I nodded.

  “Take this summer to find yourself. And please take a long, long look in the mirror. The girl you think you are doesn’t exist. Look at the woman you are today. Your curls are to die for, and your big green eyes with jealousy-inducing, thick eyelashes are amazing. Not to mention your cute button nose, creamy complexion, and high cheekbones. And regardless of your outer beauty, your incredible soul shines through.”

  “I’m not—”

  “Beautiful. Yes, you are. You’ve just been hiding behind the opinions of others. And, if you don’t mind me saying, your baggy clothes.”

  I looked down at the oversize blue blouse and elastic-waistband trousers I’d picked out for the office today. I looked like I was twenty-two going on sixty-five. However, I was comfortable, and it hid the pooch around my middle. I gave Naomi a small smile. “Maybe I could use an updated wardrobe.”

  She laughed. “If you want to go shopping, let me know.”

  “Okay. Cheesecake first, though.”

  “Always.” She held up her glass of sweet tea to me.

  ~*~

  I returned to the office in a red floral print flare dress that did a pretty good job of hiding my middle. The Cheesecake Factory was in the mall, so Naomi and I were able to pop quickly into a department store before my too-long lunch break was over, but I could only try on a few things. Thankfully, the strappy leather sandals I had been wearing matched this bold new look for me. I only bought the one dress as a trial run. I felt sort of exposed, even though the dress covered me nicely. It was a good thing I had been waxed to death in a satanic ritual Eva had put me through before the wedding on Saturday. She said I would thank her later for it, and I guess I kind of did. Still, the pain was fresh in my mind.

  Armstrong Labs corporate headquarters was a stunning piece of architecture. The circular building was mostly made of windows, which allowed the abundant Georgia sunshine to light almost every space. My favorite, though, was the courtyard. It had magnolia trees for days and smelled like gardenias and peonies. When the humidity wasn’t atrocious, it was a favorite spot for people to eat lunch or even work while sitting on the benches and the well-manicured lawn. I loved to lounge under the large out-of-the-way maple tree and read crime thrillers or romances during my lunch break.

  I took the glass elevator to the top floor—the executive floor. I wasn’t sure why Auggie had placed me there for the summer. I was only going over the protocols for the clinical research studies we conducted, as well as the safety procedures for our testing labs. I was supposed to compare them against national laws and regulations to make sure we were in compliance. If I found any discrepancies, I would report my findings to the head of research and development, Pamela Landers. She was also an executive vice president and the current chief medical officer. Someday I would fill her shoes if my father got his wish, and he always did.

  It wasn’t the most thrilling of internships, but it paid well and would look good on a résumé. Not that it probably mattered in my case. Any résumé of mine would be going to Armstrong Labs.

  I stepped off the elevator, and every eye looked my way. Actually, I had been getting a lot of stares since I’d walked into the building. People normally ignored me, even though I was the big boss’s daughter. That was fine with me; I’d rather be ignored than ridiculed. I’d had plenty of that growing up.

  Suddenly, I was nervous and began to rub my neck. I tried to look behind me, certain my dress was in my panties or something. That would be my luck. When I didn’t see anything, I tugged on the back to make sure I wasn’t showing off my plain-Jane beige undies.

  “Young lady,” Randall, my dad’s secretary, boomed. It’s what he always called me.

  It jolted me out of my panicked state. I looked up to find Randall marching my way. He wasn’t what you would picture a corporate secretary to be. He was a large man and former marine. Every day, he wore a short-sleeved white button-down shirt that showed off his bulging muscles and beautiful cocoa skin covered with tattoos. Stepmother number five, who I’d christened as the Black Widow, had made Auggie hire him. Black Widow happened to be my father’s previous secretary. Hiring a man for the role had been her way of trying to stave off any competition. Randall lasted much longer than she did. In fact, Randall was the best secretary around as far as my father was concerned.

  I walked toward Randall, still feeling like everyone was staring at me. Maybe people were remembering my unfortunate walk down the aisle last weekend, as most of them had been at the wedding. Though no one had seemed to be interested in me when I’d come in this morning. What was the fascination all of a sudden? I wasn’t sure, but my face was feeling all sorts of hot. Please don’t let my dress be in my panties.

  When I reached Randall, he handed me the folder he was carrying. “Your father asked me to give this to you.”

  I looked down at the manila folder. “What’s this?”

  “Last quarter’s report.” Randall gave me a toothy grin. “Your father assumed you might delete it if I emailed it to you.”

  He would have been right. I had no interest in reading the executive summaries, goals, objectives, and highlights. Not to mention all the quarterly figures that were meaningless to me. Though, I knew Auggie wanted me to be in the know, and that was the single reason I would read the report.

  I grimaced. “Thanks, Sir Randall.” I was the only one who called him that. The first time we met, I’d called him sir. He’d told me to call him Randall, but my teenage brain couldn’t fathom calling the intimidating man by his first name, so I had called him Sir Randall. He’d laughed so hard, and it just stuck.

  He patted my shoulder, making me falter. I think he forgot his strength sometimes. He quickly realized his mistake and gripped my arms so I didn’t fall. “Sorry,” he laughed.

  “It’s fine. Thanks for the report,” I sighed.

  Randall pressed his lips together and thought for a moment. “Young lady, this is your legacy. Be proud of it.”

  I saluted him. “Yes, Sir Randall.” I turned to head toward my office.

  “One more thing.” He tugged me back and ripped the price tag off the neckline of my dress. With a smile he handed it to me. “This doesn’t make a good accessory.”

  I hung my head in shame. How did Naomi and I miss that? That was wh
y people were staring at me. I face-palmed myself. Why must I always do embarrassing things?

  “You look lovely, by the way.” He marched off double time, never one to waste a second when he didn’t have to. Auggie said he was the most efficient and proficient executive admin he’d ever had.

  Huh? Lovely? No one had ever called me that.

  I tried to slink back to my office while making as little eye contact with people as possible. When I got there, I closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, trying to catch my breath. Maybe the red dress was a mistake. After several deep breaths, I grabbed my laptop and hit the floor.

  It felt a little claustrophobic with the door closed, but I didn’t want anyone coming by to stare at me. I raided my stash of cookies and turned on some Enya. I was obsessed with Celtic music. Yep, I was an anomaly. No country music for this southern girl. With the folder and chocolate chip cookies in hand, I was ready to tackle the report my father had so kindly gifted me. I would have preferred a microscope or a kitten.

  An hour into the report, my eyelids were drooping as I read about each highlighted project, their objectives, and whether their goals were met or not. The only project of interest was the one Kane’s department—sales, marketing, and commercial development—had submitted. Their department had blown their sales goals out of the water. Kane was mentioned for brokering a huge deal with a pharmaceutical company in Switzerland. No wonder my father often touted him. After trying to make sense of all the numbers, I was about ready to bang my head against the wall. My above average IQ wasn’t helping me for some reason. Or perhaps I didn’t care enough to understand.

  A knock on the door saved my head from being banged against the wall.

  “Come in,” I called, too lazy to extricate myself from the papers that were holding me hostage on the floor.

  An unexpected but handsome head popped in. Kane smiled when he saw me on the floor covered in papers. “Hey there.”

  Wow. I wasn’t sure I would ever get used to how beautiful he was. It was the first time since Naomi I kind of wished one of my dad’s marriages would last, just so I could admire Kane’s face during the holidays.

  “Hi,” I said, way too breathy. “What’s up?”

  He let himself all the way in and shut the door. “I thought I would drop by and say hi.”

  “Oh.” I bit my lip. “That’s nice.” That sounded lame.

  His smile said he didn’t mind how idiotic I sounded. How odd.

  “It sounds like I should have worn a kilt in here instead of a suit.”

  A girlish laugh escaped. “I like your suit. I mean, it’s Enya.” Oh my gosh. I was ridiculous. Don’t get me wrong, he looked amazing in his dark suit but I didn’t need to mention it.

  “Who?”

  “She’s an Irish singer. She lives in a castle all by herself.” Why did I say that last part?

  Kane drew closer. “Is that your dream? To live in a castle by yourself?”

  I tucked some hair behind my ear. “No.”

  Kane sat next to me and leaned against the wall. Like everyone else today at the office, he stared at me. I wasn’t sure which was making me feel like I might combust more: his gaze or the closeness of his body.

  “Let me guess, you dream to live in a place with no furniture and high ceilings so you always have far to look up,” he drawled.

  “You’re teasing me.”

  “No, I’m not. Remember, I’m intrigued.”

  “I remember,” I whispered through massive heart palpitations. Surely, he couldn’t be intrigued by me. “Cookie?” My nerves had me holding up the bag that Miss Rae, our housekeeper, had given me before I left for the office today. She was more like my grandma who Auggie paid to cook and clean.

  With a grin, Kane reached into the bag and grabbed a cookie. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Kane didn’t eat the cookie, but he continued to study me. “So, what is your dream?”

  Oh, I had a few, and for some strange reason I had this unrelenting desire to tell him what they were. Though what was the point? “Today, I’m dreaming that I can make sense of the first quarter reports.”

  His brow creased. “I don’t believe that’s what you dream about.”

  “You’re right, but Auggie wants me to understand.”

  “Well, you’re in luck. I’m free to take you to dinner and make sense of those numbers for you.”

  I must not have heard him right. “Did you say you wanted to go to dinner with me?” I stammered.

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I am. You don’t have to just because we’re related now.”

  His face pinched into a frown. “Scarlett, we aren’t related.” He sounded almost angry.

  I leaned away from him afraid I had upset him. “I’m sorry.”

  His features immediately softened. “Don’t apologize. I’m sorry. It’s just, I don’t want you to see me that way.”

  “Okay.” That was fine by me. I never wanted to think of him as a brother. I had some other titles in mind that were as unattainable as any of my other dreams.

  “So, dinner and numbers tonight?”

  I nodded without thinking, so mesmerized by his golden-brown eyes.

  “Great.” He stood and held up his cookie to me. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

  I nodded again. I had lost the ability to speak and think. This was like a dream. I was waiting for someone to throw a bucket of cold water on me and wake me up.

  His smile said he knew how he affected me. “By the way, red looks great on you. See you tonight.” He left without another word.

  I stared at the door, hardly believing what had just taken place. Was I imagining things? Or did I have a date? No. I didn’t think so either.

  Dinner by the Numbers

  We were seated at a quiet table on a hotel’s restaurant roof, located in one of Atlanta’s historic neighborhoods. The strange rooftop restaurant and bar had artificial turf flooring and street carts that sold hot dogs and hamburgers. It felt almost like we were at someone’s backyard barbecue, though no one I knew had views like this. You could almost see the entire Atlanta skyline from up here. I kept looking around at our surroundings. It was amazing and kept me from looking at Kane.

  “I make you nervous?” Kane guessed.

  I slowly turned my head his way. When I faced him, I was met with a thoughtful stare and warm eyes that looked like liquid chocolate in the evening sun. He had changed into jeans and a tight black T-shirt. It suited him. Part of me felt an odd comfort around him, although most of me felt on edge. “I don’t understand why you want to spend time with me. Obviously, it’s not a big brother thing for you. Though you are the oldest of my father’s stepchildren, so congratulations,” I rambled.

  He narrowed his eyes, confused. “Why wouldn’t I want to spend time with you?”

  I reached for the tiny drink menu on the table and fiddled with it nervously. “Well, look at me. I doubt I’m the kind of woman you usually spend time with.”

  “You’re right,” he was quick to reply.

  I dropped the menu on the floor. I would like to say that didn’t sting, but it did, even though I knew it to be true.

  He was quick to lean down, retrieve the menu, and hand it back. Yet he didn’t let go when I reached for it.

  “Scarlett, do you know the first thing I noticed about you?”

  I shook my head.

  “When you arrived at the office two weeks ago, I expected you to behave like your father’s stepchildren who work for him—entitled, rude, and lazy, if I can be candid. But you walked in and greeted your father’s secretary with a hug, then handed him a box of his favorite candy—chocolate-covered toffee, if I remember right.”

  “Yes. There’s a place near Samford that makes it. I always try to remember to get him a box before I come home.” I also knew which stepsiblings he spoke of, Tyler and Danielle. Siblings from stepmomma number five, aka Black Widow. One worked in accountin
g, the other in HR.

  “That’s very thoughtful of you. In fact, I’ve noticed how thoughtful you are to everyone at the office, even though you’re the only other person there who bears the Armstrong name.”

  “It’s only a name.”

  “Not in that office it’s not. And you know that. You’ve also been more than gracious to my mother and sister when they’ve done nothing to deserve it. Something I’m sorry for.”

  Now I got it. “Is that why you asked me to dinner? To make up for their behavior?”

  He let go of the menu and leaned back in his chair. “I asked you to dinner because I’d like to get to know you better.”

  I felt a rush of blood to my cheeks.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?”

  “Honestly, no.”

  “Why?”

  I pointed at him and spluttered. “Well, look at you, and look at me.”

  A smile danced in his eyes. “What are you getting at?”

  “You know.” I was getting frustrated.

  “Please, enlighten me.” He was amused.

  “I can’t believe you’re going to make me say it.” I was on the verge of tears. “You’re beautiful and debonair, and I’m plain and awkward,” I choked out.

  His eyes widened before he reached for my hand. “Scarlett, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  I stared at our hands. A searing sensation coursed through me. It was raw and unfiltered—something I’d never experienced before, yet it seemed so familiar. He seemed familiar. Weird.

  I stifled my tears. “It’s fine.”

  “No. It’s not. I don’t think you see yourself very clearly.” He brushed his thumb across my hand, leaving sparking embers before releasing it. My hand instantly felt cold and empty.

  “I’ve heard that a lot today.” I thought back to Naomi’s pep talk during lunch.

  “Well, whoever else is telling you that is a genius and correct. There is nothing plain about you. And your awkwardness is charming.” He chuckled.