“Does Augustus know?” She wasn’t backing down.
I swallowed hard, wondering what Auggie would make of all this. Not that he cared much what I did. And Kane and I were only friends or working on being friends.
“Precisely what should he know?” Kane was good at this. “That, unlike you, I treat his daughter with respect, or that your PR firm is overcharging Armstrong Labs?”
Her jaw dropped, and she began to splutter indignantly. “How dare you throw such accusations at me. I only came by to say hi to Scarlett. She knows how much we all love her.”
I blinked in disbelief. Not even I bought that lie.
Kane turned to me. “Do you believe that?” He was direct. Too direct.
My mouth went dry. I didn’t like confrontation.
“Do you?” Kane asked so tenderly, as if begging me not to believe the lie.
“No,” I eeked out.
He let out a heavy breath, relieved by my answer.
Ophelia, on the other hand, scowled at me. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then.”
We watched her stomp away in her stilettos and black form-fitted dress that showed off her perfect curves.
“She’s going to say something to my father,” I worried out loud.
“So?” Kane seemed unfazed.
I headed toward the doors, embarrassed and silently lamenting by wringing my hands.
Kane followed. “Scarlett, why are you so worried?”
“I don’t want my stepsiblings to talk about me. A lot of them do. You don’t know what I had to deal with growing up. And Ophelia is going to make up something because no one will ever believe that you like me. They’ll say you’re babysitting me or lost a bet. I don’t know. Just . . . just . . . this was a bad idea.”
“Hey.” He gently tugged on my arm.
I looked at his hand, which was leaving an invisible mark so deep it scared me. Then I looked into his warm, kind eyes. I knew then I was in way over my head. “I need to go.”
“Scarlett.”
“Please,” I begged.
He dropped his hand. “All right. I’ll see you later?” He said it as a question.
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” I ran off, clutching my notepad to me.
Scarlett Jane Armstrong, you are a ridiculous girl.
Ten Best Qualities
I drove through the gate of our house in Arden-Habersham, one of the most coveted neighborhoods in Atlanta. It boasted not only beautiful homes but the governor’s mansion. Auggie loved the distinction and prestige. There was no denying how lovely our house and grounds were. It was referred to as a timeless English country estate. The large home had a simple elegance to it, with a steeply pitched roof and overlapping front-faced gables. It had four chimneys to match the several fireplaces throughout the house. The lawns and gardens were well manicured, with clean lines and rows of hedges. The backyard was as pristine as the front, with a crystal-clear pool, lush greenery, and a forest of trees surrounding it, making the home feel more secluded than it truly was.
I believed the women my father married fell more in love with the house than with him. It was probably why they wanted to leave their mark on it. Maybe each wife thought if she could make it a home instead of a trophy for Auggie, he would prize her above all and keep her. Sadly, Auggie didn’t spend much time in the house. To him, it was only a place for sleeping and throwing dinner parties for the Atlanta elite and his business associates. And little did they know, he had bought the house for Naomi.
There were three things in the house that Auggie never allowed anyone to change. My bedroom, the library Naomi had loved so much, and the rose garden Naomi had planted out back. Auggie had hired a special gardener to care for the roses over the years. And when Auggie ever did spend time at the house, he was usually haunting the library.
Naomi loved when I would bring her bouquets from her beloved garden, even though it always brought a tear to her eye. Reminders of what could have been, she would always say.
Before I pulled my car into the vast four-car garage, I noticed Eva had wasted no time; an interior decorating crew was already there. The Asian Zen furniture was being hauled out, and large pieces wrapped in plastic were being brought in. I couldn’t care less what style the new furniture was as long as it was more comfortable than the last go-around.
I walked in through the mudroom that led into the kitchen. There was a set of stairs from there that went straight up to the landing outside my room. There was a lot of noise coming from the main part of the house. Miss Rae, our housekeeper, was in the kitchen rolling her eyes and slicing peaches. If I wasn’t mistaken, she was making peach and prosciutto flatbread—my favorite pizza.
“Hi, Miss Rae,” I called in passing as I headed toward the stairs. I wanted to be alone after the day I’d had. Honestly, I pretty much always wanted to be alone, until the last couple of days. I think that scared me more than anything. To crave someone’s attention. Someone who would probably end up rejecting me, like most people. And I knew if Kane rejected me, it would hurt more acutely than a rejection from anyone else, save my father.
“Dinner is almost done, honey.”
I opened the door leading to the staircase and my solitude. “Sorry, I’m not really hungry. Can you save it for later?”
She dropped the knife onto the granite countertop. “Are you sick?”
I know, it was a big deal when I refused food. “No. Just a rough day.”
She untied her apron. “Come tell me about it. I have cookies,” she sang.
Hmm. Cookies. “What kind?” Not like there were really any bad kinds.
She smiled, making her wrinkles more pronounced on her round face. When I was little, I swore she was Mrs. Claus, with her white hair and penchant for baking.
“Coconut macaroons,” she tempted me.
Oh, were they tempting. I gave her a half smile. “Okay, maybe one.”
She set a plate out on the large island and placed three cookies on it. “Sit down,” she ordered kindly.
I tossed my bag near the stairs and obediently took a seat on one of the stools lining the grand island. The gourmet kitchen had shiny commercial-size stainless steel appliances and a breakfast nook enveloped in windows. It was one of my favorite places in the house. Probably because Miss Rae had made it feel like home. This was her domain, and no stepmother had been brave enough to boss her around. Miss Rae might have a heart of gold, but she was tough as nails.
She sat next to me, and her lively blue eyes encouraged me to spill my guts. “What’s up, buttercup?”
I grabbed a cookie and debated taking a bite, which was kind of a big deal for me. No one had ever rendered me unable to eat before. I knew Mindy would get so worked up about guys that she couldn’t eat; however, I’d always been sure I would never be a victim to such a cruel fate.
“Ophelia,” I sighed.
Miss Rae slapped the countertop. “What did that ungrateful brat do today? That girl has always been too big for her britches. Her momma should have taught her some manners.”
Miss Rae had been through all the stepchildren along with me. She loved one—Mindy—and she disliked most, but she loathed Ophelia.
I dropped the cookie back on the plate. “It’s not her, exactly. It’s Kane.”
Her faced pinched like a bulldog. “Is he giving you a hard time? He seemed polite—not to mention pretty—but knowing who his mother is, it’s no surprise. She is a piece of work. Did you see all the new furniture? Get ready for shabby chic, by the way, whatever that is.”
I rested my hand on top of Miss Rae’s strong, age-spotted hand. “Kane isn’t giving me a hard time. It’s just the opposite. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”
She squinted. “So, what’s wrong?”
I was embarrassed to say. I mean, I knew Miss Rae would keep anything I said to her confidential. She’s always told Auggie she worked for me, not him. Naomi and she had been my protectors and constants in the musical chair environment I’d gro
wn up in.
I tapped my fingers on the counter. “Kane was helping me with my medical school essay during lunch today. Ophelia happened to see us and took it all wrong. Kane and I are only friends. He plainly said so when he took me to dinner on Monday night. But she’s going to blow it out of proportion because that’s what she always does and then she’ll tell everyone. It will be just one more humiliation since no one will believe that someone like Kane would ever want to be with someone like me. And then everyone at the office will start gossiping and staring at me even more than they have been, which I already don’t understand. Unless maybe they saw Kane coming out of my office. Oh my gosh, what if they did? We’re practically related, though Kane hates that and doesn’t think we are. But everyone else does. Ugh,” I groaned and finally took a breath before pushing the plate of cookies away and laying my head down dramatically on the counter with a sigh.
Miss Rae chuckled and stroked my hair repeatedly. “Hmm, sounds like you’ve had an interesting few days.”
“Not really. I mean, sure, for me, but it’s nothing.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
“I don’t know why.”
“I think you do.”
I lifted my head. “I do?”
She tapped my nose. “If I had to guess, and this is just a guess,”—she grinned—“I would say you like Kane.”
“Of course, I like him. He’s a nice guy.”
“Let’s not forget attractive and older.” She wagged her drawn-on brows.
I bit my lip. “Yeah.”
“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought. You have a crush on him.”
“No,” I said way too quickly.
“Honey, you’re not fooling me.”
I sat up straight. “Fine. It’s ridiculous, I know.”
“Why? Sounds like maybe he has a crush on you too.”
“No way.”
“Oh, honey.” She stood, walked back over to the cutting board and began arranging the peaches on the flatbread already covered in cheese and prosciutto. “You are like whiskey in a teacup.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you’re delicate and beautiful on the outside, but inside there is this fire waiting to come out if you would only let it. And nothing can stoke a flame like a little romance.”
“Miss Rae, Kane and I aren’t going to be romantic.”
She shrugged. “You never can tell about these things. But I’ll tell you this, if a man like Kane was paying me some attention, I’d take advantage of it. And I sure as heck wouldn’t care what anyone had to say about it, especially Ophelia.”
“I don’t want people talking about me.”
She waved her hand around. “Honey, you live in the South. Gossiping is our favorite pastime. And I hate to say it, but your daddy will always make sure there is plenty of gossip surrounding your family. Might as well give everyone something fun to talk about. A relationship between you and your new stepbrother would certainly do the trick.” She laughed to herself.
I cringed. “Please don’t call him that.”
She pointed at me with a peach slice in hand. “Don’t worry, honey—Eva won’t last long.”
Believe me, I knew. I grabbed one of the cookies, feeling a little better after getting it out of my system, and took a small bite. “Mmm. These are delicious.”
“I’m going to pop these flatbreads in the oven and then head on home. You call me if you need anything.”
“I will. Thank you, Miss Rae.”
“You keep that chin up, beautiful girl.”
I wished I was beautiful.
“Knock, knock,” a familiar voice startled me.
I whipped my head toward the main kitchen entrance. There stood Kane, still in his suit and tie, looking a bit unsure, yet focused on me. “I’m sorry to barge in; the door was open.”
I had no idea what to say; thankfully, Miss Rae stepped in. “No need to apologize. It’s good to see you. You’re welcome here anytime. Right, Scarlett?” she prompted.
“Right.”
Kane flashed us a relieved smile while stepping closer to me. “I was worried about you.”
“I’m going to leave you two alone.” Miss Rae was quick to say. “There’s enough pizza, by the way, for two.” She winked at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Thank you, Miss Rae.”
“Have a nice evening,” Kane addressed Miss Rae.
“You do the same.” Miss Rae popped the pizza into the oven and skittered away.
As soon as she was gone, Kane took the stool next to me. He tugged on a strand of my hair. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I whispered.
“Are you okay?” He sounded really worried.
“Yes. I’m sorry for earlier, it’s just—”
“Shh.” Kane placed a finger on my lips. “Just tell me what to do to make it better.”
I couldn’t think when he touched me and was so close that I could smell him and feel him on what seemed like a molecular level. Maybe he knew that, as he dropped his finger. It allowed me to take a breath. “I don’t think you can. I think it’s something only I can do.” I knew so many of my insecurities stemmed from self-esteem issues.
His brow creased as if that frustrated him, yet his eyes said he understood. “Can I at least help you with your essay?”
My essay? I hadn’t even thought about it, which was terrible. I needed to get my application in by the end of the month. I almost told him he didn’t need to help me, but then I thought, why shouldn’t I accept his help? I wanted it and needed it. Well, more like I wanted to be near him, as dangerous as it was for my heart. He had come to check on me after all. Very few people had ever cared to do so. And he made me feel alive and like I mattered.
“I’d like that,” I found myself saying. “Do you want to stay for dinner?” Who was this woman controlling my mouth? I had never been so bold.
“I’d love to,” he didn’t hesitate to respond. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I thought you might need some help coming up with your best qualities.”
I plucked the paper from his grip, anxious to see what he had written. “You hardly know me.”
“I’m good at reading people. It makes me adept at my job.”
I carefully unfolded the paper with shaky hands. I opened it to find a numbered list:
1.Brilliant
2.Kind
3.Humble
4.Resilient
5.Loyal
6.Honest
7.Ambitious
8.Independent
9.Teachable
10.Beautiful
My head popped up at that unexpected last one. I was met with an intense gaze. It made me swallow hard.
“I threw that last one in there for my benefit.” He read my mind and knee-jerk reaction.
“You think I’m beautiful?” I could hardly say it.
“Yes, ma’am, I do.”
I felt feverishly flushed. “Thank you.” I didn’t know what else to say.
He laughed softly. “I think you’re the first woman who has ever thanked me for that.”
“I’m ridiculous.” I felt like I wanted to cry. I didn’t know the right things to say and do. I hadn’t ever studied this. Whatever this was.
“No.” He rested his warm hand on my burning cheek. “You’re real. I like that. Very much.” His hand fell away. He leaned back as if to put some distance between us. “Scarlett, I meant what I said—I want to get to know you better.”
I ran a hand through my unruly hair. “In what way?” That was probably a dumb question, but I had always been a spectator—I’d never been up to bat.
“The way a man gets to know a woman better. Spending time together, talking, eating, of course.” He grinned.
Was this real? I could hardly believe it. “I do like to eat.”
“I should have listed that.”
I giggled.
He placed his hand over mine, resting on my leg. “What do you sa
y, Scarlett?”
“Why me?” It was the only thing that came to mind.
He leaned in closer and whispered in my ear, “Come find out.”
A shiver went through me like it was the middle of January, though I felt like I was burning in July. I knew his invitation was more than just him getting to know me. It was him daring me to get to know myself. Something I had been too afraid to do. Yet I longed to know me. To be comfortable in my own skin. Maybe I could start by doing something I wanted to. And there was nothing in this moment that I wanted more than getting to know Kane better.
“Where do we begin?”
Predictions
I was sitting in my usual spot on my office floor when my phone began to buzz. Glancing down to check the caller ID, I was more than surprised to see it was Auggie. He rarely called, and never while he was honeymooning. My first thought was that something awful had happened. I answered in a mild panic.
“Hi, Auggie.” I waited to hear the worst.
“Scarlett?”
Who else called him Auggie? And no one else ever answered my phone.
“Everything all right?” I asked.
He didn’t answer right away, making me more nervous. “Dad?” came falling out of my mouth. I’d only ever called him that maybe twice in my entire life. For some reason, it now seemed appropriate. Maybe it was the fact that he had thought of me while he was in paradise with his new wife.
“How’s work going?” he brusquely brushed off my question.
“Good.” I mean, it was boring, but I felt like I was contributing. I had found some minor discrepancies in the language we used to describe our protocols that were out of line with some of the national safety regulations.
“Did you read and understand the quarterly report?”
“Most of it, yes.” With the help of Kane, that was. I didn’t mention it.
“You can talk to Keith if you need clarification.”
Keith Derringer was the CFO. I wished Auggie would offer to help me himself. “Okay.”
“It’s important you understand these things.”
“I know.”
“How’s your medical school application going?”
I wasn’t sure where the twenty questions were coming from. He’d never checked up on me like this before. I was surprised he had even remembered when the application was due. “I’m working on it. I almost have the first draft of the essay done.”
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