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

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All's Fair in Love and Blood: A Romantic Comedy Novel Page 20

by Jennifer Peel


  Yes, we shall.

  ~*~

  I met Auggie at his golf cart, decked out in my new outfit. Who knew golf apparel was so cute? I was wearing a pink skort and a white sleeveless polo shirt, both made with fabric intended to keep you cool. Obviously, whoever made the clothes had never spent any time in the south during the summer. I didn’t think there was any fabric that could beat the heat down here.

  Auggie looked relaxed now that he had changed into some white shorts and a light-blue polo. It made his tan more pronounced. He really was a distinguished-looking man.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  I nodded and took a seat in the cart.

  Auggie wasted no time, and we were off toward the first hole. At least I think that’s where we were going. They were called holes, right?

  On the short drive, I began to realize something. This golf course looked familiar to me. I gripped the seat when I figured out why. I looked around me, and sure enough, in the distance I saw some condo buildings. The same complex Kane used to live in. I only ended up going to his place the one time, but that was all it had taken for me to know how at home I felt with him. I was embarrassed to admit, I’d kept the T-shirt and sweatpants I’d worn that night long ago. The first year after we broke up, I would wear them to bed and cry myself to sleep, praying that I would wake up in the morning and Kane would call to tell me he’d made a mistake. That he did love me. To find out that he had loved me this entire time was a sucker punch. I grabbed my stomach. I really needed to stop thinking about him. So, what did I do?

  “Where did Kane buy a house?” I hated that I was so curious about him. But how could I not be?

  Auggie glanced over at me, a smile in his hazel eyes. “The Virginia-Highland neighborhood.”

  That’s where Kane had grown up. He used to speak often of how much he’d loved his childhood home set in one of Atlanta’s historic districts. Of the projects he used to work on with his dad, like building retaining walls in the backyard or laying the hardwood floors. Kane treasured those memories with his father. It made sense he would want the same legacy to pass down to his own children. The thought of him having a family—a family that wasn’t mine—made my stomach clench. I wanted to literally shake him for what he had stolen from me, from us. Not only had he permanently altered my heart, he’d stolen a million possibilities, all wonderful and sweet.

  “Oh. And how long is he staying with you?” Please don’t let it be long. My heart couldn’t take much more.

  Auggie shrugged. “As long as he needs to, I suppose.”

  “Why is he staying with you?” That was the better question.

  Auggie cleared his throat. “I owe him.”

  Owe him for what? I was going to ask exactly that, but Auggie headed me off at the pass. “I brought you out here because this is where Armstrong Labs all started.” Why was he avoiding talking about Kane? And did he sound sentimental? There was definite weirdness going on. NASA needed to check this out stat. Either that, or he was dying. I couldn’t stand that thought.

  “I thought you were going to teach me how to play golf.” I didn’t have the courage to ask him if he was dying.

  “We’ll get to that.” He stopped the cart and wistfully looked over the beautiful course, with its deep-green grass manicured to perfection, and large leafy trees that looked as if their leaves were dancing in the light breeze. “Thirty-five years ago, I met with Andy Newell on this very course. I thought we were going to discuss real estate. Your grandfather wanted to buy property to build another donation center.”

  My father’s father, who had died when I was very young, so young I didn’t remember him, had owned several plasma donation centers in the Southeast. It was how my father got started in the business.

  “He told me,” my father continued, “that I was being shortsighted. He said anyone can collect plasma, but to be a real player, research and development was where it was at. Why not do it all, he said.”

  I had to disagree that anyone could or should collect plasma. There were processes and strict protocols that should be adhered to. It wasn’t as cut-and-dry as people might think. But I got the sentiment.

  “At first, I thought he was crazy. I knew how to run a business. I knew very little about R&D. But I learned and got connected with the right people and players.” His hazel eyes bored into mine. “Scarlett, this is why I have every confidence you can take over for me. You’re driven and intelligent. You don’t know everything now, and I know you think you’re underqualified, but once upon a time, so was I. You’ll learn.”

  Would I? I couldn’t even write a mission or vision statement. And sure, I could analyze all the numbers, but I was having a hard time translating them into what they meant for market share and forecasting for the future. “I’ll do my best,” my voice shook.

  He nodded, satisfied, before he started to take off again.

  “What was your vision when you started Armstrong Labs?” Maybe if I knew that I could expand upon it. Go back to our roots.

  He glanced my way. “First to conquer the world, then save it.”

  “Is that all?”

  He chuckled. So not like him. “I accomplished the first; it’s up to you now to save the world.”

  “Save the world?” I swallowed hard.

  “I have no doubt you will.” He said it with such conviction, I almost believed it.

  It did, though, give me an idea for the company’s mission statement. Armstrong Labs: Saving the world one plasma donation at a time. Maybe that was a little dramatic. Perhaps something more like, Armstrong Labs: Bettering humankind one plasma donation at a time. It was a start, at least. And I was passionate about helping people—as passionate as I was about forensic pathology. Over the years, I had learned the importance of giving patients an accurate diagnosis, even when many times it meant devastating news. That accurate diagnosis meant proper treatment and an increase in positive outcomes. What we did at Armstrong Labs helped with both diagnosis and treatment and could help save lives. That was important. That would be my goal—lose my life to save others. It sounded like a fair trade. Even a noble one.

  I was grateful when we came to a stop and could get out of the cart. As much as I needed the pep talk and reveled in the fact my father was treating me like his daughter, I needed to get out and move. Auggie had given me a lot to think about.

  Auggie walked around to the back of the cart and I followed.

  “Can you carry your clubs, or should I call for a caddy?”

  “I’m sure I can manage it.”

  “I don’t enjoy caddies.”

  That didn’t surprise me. I was sure it would annoy him to have someone follow him around and hand him his clubs. He wasn’t only the leader of the pack but a lone wolf, too.

  Auggie heaved both sets out of the cart. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” No. I honestly had no interest in golfing or making deals on the course, but I had to save the world.

  Auggie smiled and easily hoisted his set over his shoulder. He seemed in good health. Huh. I really needed Naomi to find out what was going on with him.

  I grabbed my set and followed him onto the green. I think that was the right lingo. I was going to get a book—Golf for Dummies. The clubs were heavier than I’d assumed but not unmanageable. The heat and humidity were more oppressive than anything. “So, who have you taught to play golf?” It was the only question I could think to ask. Other than what medications are you taking? But it didn’t seem like the time or place for that question.

  Auggie paused and thought for a moment. “Naomi and your mother,” he mumbled.

  Naomi had never said anything. I didn’t even know she knew how to golf. “Were they any good?”

  He smiled to himself. “Naomi was a natural, and your mother was a disaster.”

  “Really? What happened?”

  “Stitches.” He began walking again.

  “She hurt herself?” I could so see that happening to me today.

>   “No. Me. She did a thorough job too. Ten stitches in the back of my head. She had quite the swing—unfortunately, she couldn’t seem to keep ahold of the club.”

  I laughed. “I bet she felt awful.”

  “She apologized for weeks.”

  “Did she ever get the hang of it?”

  He shook his head. “She would never come out with me again.” Regret laced his words.

  “That’s too bad.”

  Auggie said nothing in return.

  “You don’t like talking about her,” I finally stated after all these years.

  “No, I don’t,” he admitted.

  I reached for my father’s hand. I had never held it before, at least not that I remembered. Maybe when I was a small child I had. Auggie stared down at our hands as if he were stunned, but his fingers curled around mine gripping them tightly.

  A sense of security swept through me to the point that my eyes began to water. “What if I need to talk about her?”

  He tilted his head and studied me, almost as if he had never seen me before this moment. A softness washed over his face. “What do you want to know?”

  Only . . . “Everything.”

  Peace Offering

  I should have been researching and working on my business plan, but all I could do was absorb the photo album Auggie had given me many years ago. It took on so much more meaning now that I was beginning to know the woman and the man in the pictures.

  My fingers lightly brushed over the pages as I sat on my floor and tried to memorize everything my father had told me today. He and Momma met when she was a sophomore in high school and he was a senior. When he went off to college back East, they wrote to each other. I wish I had those letters. I knew he had given her the promise ring I still wore when she was sixteen, though the way he spoke about it today, I believed he regretted it. She was too young, he’d said. I had heard that before. But I got the sense that he’d loved her deeply. It was in the way he talked about how she would pack him a lunch every day and put notes on the napkins, or how she had a Christmas tree in every room during the holidays. What touched me the most, though, was hearing how much she had wanted a baby. They’d tried for seven years before I was born.

  She had also been instrumental in helping Auggie start Armstrong Labs. She’d worked tirelessly helping him research and then acted in an administrative role for the entire company until she got pregnant with me. Auggie said she’d spent months decorating the nursery and going to all the birthing classes. He hadn’t made it to any of them, which he sounded remorseful about. It made me sad for my mother. I didn’t know how, but I knew she would have wanted him there.

  I admired her golden-blonde hair and thought of how she could play the piano and sing. How all she’d ever wanted to be was a wife and a mother. I ached for her and wanted to know what had brought her to the point of taking her own life, but that wasn’t something Auggie would discuss with me. In fact, he’d gotten agitated when I had asked about it. So agitated that when he’d swung his club, he’d missed his ball and sworn all the four-letter words. That was the end of the conversation about my momma.

  While I was flipping through the photo album and writing some notes in it so I would remember everything Auggie had told me, there was a knock on my bedroom door. I could tell who it was just by the knock. Kane. We hadn’t spoken in three days—only nods of acknowledgment if we ever did pass by each other. Not to say I hadn’t obsessed every night about what it would be like to share a life and a bed together. Although, that only made me angrier because I knew exactly what it would be like—wonderful.

  I ignored him.

  He persisted. “I can knock all night.”

  “What do you want?” I called out in resignation.

  “I have a peace offering.”

  “That sounds suspicious.” We were making no treaties.

  He chuckled. “The only way to know is to open your door.”

  “I’m good.” I really wasn’t. I wanted to open the door and punch him in the gut and then kiss him until I couldn’t breathe. However, both would make me feel as if I’d lost all self-respect, so I remained firmly planted on the floor.

  His sigh was so deep, I could hear it through the closed door. “Scarlett, I know you hate me.”

  He was wrong. I loved him. If only I could hate him. It would make my life a whole lot easier.

  “But you’re going to hate yourself even more if you pass up meeting Landon Drummond.”

  What? I popped up. This had to be a trick. No way did he score a meeting with my hero, my first crush, and perhaps the most famous forensic pathologist in the world.

  “Come on, Scarlett, you know you’re dying to meet him.”

  Oh, did he play dirty. I would think it was sexy if . . . well . . . never mind, I still thought it was sexy. But, I wasn’t falling for it. I cautiously crept toward the door and told myself I was only checking to make sure I wasn’t missing out on an opportunity of a lifetime. It had nothing to do with wanting to see Kane. At. All. I inched the door open and peeked through at him.

  Kane stood there grinning. His suit coat was slung over his shoulder, and the top buttons of his dress shirt were undone, giving me a view of his beautiful chest. I averted my eyes, as hard as it was. We were at war.

  “So, what’s this about meeting Landon?” I asked nonchalantly.

  Kane pushed the door open a tad more. “That’s better.” He gave me a smile that said, “I could look at you all day.”

  I lowered my gaze, willing myself not to be taken in by him.

  He must have known, as his tone changed from playful to more sincere. “Landon is working on a case in town, and I know a guy who knows a woman on his production team. He can meet with us tomorrow.”

  “Us?” My head jerked up. Oh no, no, no.

  “I’m a big fan too.”

  Right. “Well, have fun meeting him.” As much as I wanted to meet my hero, there was no way I was doing it with Kane. I started to shut my door.

  Kane put his foot in the door, preventing me from closing it. “You’re seriously going to pass this up? Why?”

  “You have to ask?”

  “You hate me that much?” he choked out, as if it physically hurt him to think that’s how I felt about him.

  “I don’t hate you at all,” I whispered. That was the problem.

  “Then come with me. There are no strings attached. We’ll goes as friends.”

  “Friends?” I scoffed. “You’re trying to steal my company, and you . . . well . . . you know what you did.”

  “Believe me, I know what I’ve done. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. And to set the record straight, I’m not trying to steal your company. As far as I’m concerned, you’re trying to steal my promotion.” He smirked.

  “That position was never meant for you.”

  “No, darlin’, you were never meant for that position. And deep in your beautiful heart, you know that’s true. Your passion lies elsewhere.”

  I grabbed my chest where he’d pricked it with his words.

  “Is that why you don’t want to meet Landon?” His brow quirked. “Are you afraid you’re going to realize the truth?”

  My mouth fell open and I spluttered like a fool. I hated that he was right. So, so right. “I see what you’re doing. This is a ploy of yours. Just so you know, I came up with the most brilliant mission and vision statements the company has ever had.”

  “Then it appears you have nothing to be afraid of coming with me tomorrow,” he taunted me.

  I was going to show him. “You’re right. I’ll go.” See. I really showed him. I slammed the door in his face before leaning against it, breathing as if I’d run a marathon. Which I would never do. Who in the world would choose to run twenty-six miles in a row? Crazy people, that’s who. And speaking of crazy, what was I thinking agreeing to go with Kane?

  “We need to leave at noon,” he called through the closed door.

  “Okay.”

  “
By the way, what’s wrong with your dad? He’s icing his knee in the kitchen.”

  I bit my lip. “Uh, we had a little accident playing golf this afternoon.” As in, I took after my mother and had whacked my father in the knee with a club. It was good of Auggie not to broadcast that. I still felt terrible about it. He’d assured me he would be fine, but he was limping, and his knee had a huge bruise on it. He’d offered to hire a golf pro for me. I didn’t think he trusted me not to injure him again. That was a good call on his part.

  “All right. See you tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow? It seemed too close and yet so far away.

  ~*~

  I stared out the window of Kane’s Porsche, which still had that new-car smell, questioning my sanity while trying to stay as far away from him as I possibly could. Which made zero sense given we were in a tiny sports car. It made about as much sense as me agreeing to drive downtown with him. Sure, it might seem weird to show up separately, but at least that way I wouldn’t have had to be consumed by his intoxicating scent or the Christopher Cross he was playing on his amazing sound system. In the last eight years, I hadn’t been able to bear listening to any of his songs. I wasn’t bearing it well now. Honestly, if I could have plugged my ears, I would have.

  Lyrics talking about someone turning your heart around were making me squirm. That’s exactly how it felt. My heart was all turned around. Worse, Christopher Cross was crooning about how the best thing you could do was fall in love. False. My hands balled into fists while I leaned my forehead against the cool glass, trying to focus on the stream of cars Kane was blazing past instead of on sweet memories of dancing with Kane on his balcony, promising him I would follow my dreams.

  “You look great,” Kane said out of the blue.

  I inadvertently adjusted my red spaghetti strap sundress so I wasn’t showing quite as much leg. I didn’t want to feel even more exposed to Kane. It was bad enough knowing he could read every emotion running through me. No one knew me like he did. Not even Ethan. It was probably why I’d been able to so easily let Ethan go. “Thanks,” I spoke softly into the glass.

 

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