Jason stood next to me near one of the round columns that outlined the room’s entrance. “Your mom really takes this holiday seriously.”
“You have no idea.”
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I looked up to him, and there he was looking thoughtful again. “Yes. Why?”
“You look lost in your thoughts is all.”
Was he a mind reader? I’d never met anyone as intuitive as him, at least not anyone of the male persuasion. I was going to tell him I was fine, but I found myself divulging more than I was comfortable with. “I was thinking about my daddy.”
“Was he really into Easter, too?”
“No,” I laughed. “In fact, he thought the Easter Bunny was silly, but he was really into my momma, so she always got her way.”
“The Easter Bunny is pretty nonsensical when you think about it. At least Santa Claus is based on a real person.”
“My daddy used to say basically the same thing.”
“Hey, you two,” Momma called, “there are a couple of baskets waiting here for you.”
“After you.” Jason waved me forward.
I stepped down the one long step that bordered the room. Jason followed after me. My basket was placed next to Jason’s. Zander’s had been on the other side of mine, but he was already sitting on the floor going through each item like a child on Christmas morning. Rick took my dad’s old chair and barely sifted through his. He was unenthusiastic, like me. We weren’t ungrateful, but our baskets always had ulterior motives.
I reluctantly took my basket and sat on the floor next to Zander. Jason retrieved his uneasily and sat next to me. I could only hope he was completely uncomfortable and would never return. He was a nice guy, but he needed to go away.
I couldn’t focus on my basket as Jason’s got my full attention. I wanted to smack my forehead. I couldn’t believe what was before my eyes. I think my momma had an illness. I felt more and more ill as Jason lifted out each item. A pricey bottle of wine, then two flutes, and it only got worse. The Barry White CD and the candles made him chuckle.
“Maybe your mom misheard me when I said I was a home designer. I think she heard gigolo.”
I wanted to die, just die. “I’m sorry. You have to excuse my momma.”
Zander added to the embarrassment. “Dude, you’re all set to entertain the ladies. But I have to warn you, the Barry White CD turns women into putty. Do you mind if I borrow it? Mine died a happy death.”
I smacked him.
“What was that for? Are you jealous I didn’t use it on you?”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up without looking in my basket. I’m sure I could guess the contents that lurked beneath the candy. I was sure they were all things to lure a man.
“I was kidding, Kenz,” Zander called out to me as I walked away.
“Kenadie Anne,” Momma called out as well.
I ignored them both and headed to the kitchen to finish up lunch preparations. The sooner we could eat, the better. I pulled the ham out and placed it on the platter to let it rest while I made the orange pineapple glaze to go over it.
It didn’t take long for Momma to appear. “Kennie, you didn’t even look at your basket,” she said as she tried to hand it to me.
“I’ll look at it later. We should get lunch ready. And thank you, by the way.” I didn’t want to seem like an ungrateful brat.
“What bee flew up your hiney?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“If you’re worried about what I gave Jason, don’t be. He loved it.”
I closed my eyes, counted to ten, and reminded myself it wasn’t worth arguing over. My only hope was that her craziness had scared Jason off. “I’m sure he did.”
“You know, if you would open up a little and give him a chance, I think—”
“He’s just out of a serious relationship.”
“He’s not acting heartbroken over it.”
“We don’t know him well enough to know that. He probably moved here to help get over it.”
“That’s perfect then. You can help him.”
I smacked my forehead and contemplated faking an illness, but knew Momma would see right through that. Why wouldn’t she leave it alone? I knew why, but poor Jason didn’t need to suffer for it.
And to make matters worse, he popped his head in the kitchen. “Thanks again, Mrs. Marshall. Can I help with anything in here?”
I scowled at him.
His eyes registered confusion, then amusement.
I hadn't meant that to be amusing at all. I turned back to the glaze on the stove.
“Jason, dear, normally I wouldn’t let a guest help, but since you asked so sweetly, would you mind cutting the ham while I call my oldest son, Dylan? I want to make sure he got his basket and wish him a Happy Easter.”
It was probably a good thing that it was Jason wielding the knife and not me. Where the heck was Rick? He was the duly appointed carver of the meat. And we normally called Dylan after lunch so we could all talk to him. I had a feeling they were all conspiring against me and using poor Jason as a pawn.
“If you need anything, ask Kennie,” Momma said as she scurried out of the kitchen.
“Kenadie?” he said as soon as Momma left.
“Yes?” I replied with my back turned to him.
“Have I done something to upset you?”
I turned around and ran right into him. I hadn’t realized he was standing so close. He held on to my arms and righted me. Unfortunately, I was holding a spoon and I splattered glaze all over his shirt.
He looked down at me, and at his shirt, and smiled.
“I’m so sorry.” I set the spoon on the counter and turned to get a damp towel. To make myself look more like a fool, I almost started to wipe the mess off his shirt-covered chest, but I hesitated. I was mental. I quickly handed him the towel.
He took the towel, but didn’t make a move to clean himself off. There was that gaze again.
I sighed loudly.
“Is it me?” he asked.
“It’s not you, per se.”
His charming smile made an appearance. “Tell me about the per se part.”
He had a way of making me smile, or at least slightly grin. “Jason, I’m going to be honest with you. Though you probably have already figured it out. My momma is desperate for me to date and you’re a warm-blooded male in the vicinity.”
He laughed, like heartily laughed.
“I know you don’t want to and I know Zander’s told you about me, so you know I don’t want to either, but could you please, please quit being yourself? Maybe swear, call me ugly, or say you’re seeing someone. Anything will do.”
He stopped laughing and peered at me thoughtfully. “Warm-blooded male in the vicinity? I’ve never been called that before.”
“This is not a joke. My momma means business.”
He finally began to wipe his shirt off. “I can’t lie and call you ugly.”
“It won’t hurt my feelings.” Really, I had already survived the worst humiliation.
“It’s not my style.”
“How about swearing?”
“Not much of a swearer.”
“Pretend girlfriend?”
“Fresh out of those.”
“You aren’t being very helpful.”
“Do you really not date? Ever?”
“Never.”
“Huh.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“There you two are,” Zander interrupted before I could get my answer. He looked at Jason wiping his shirt off. “Did you tick off Kenz?” he asked him.
“I don’t know. Did I?” he asked me with a grin.
“No,” I said before turning back to my task at hand.
Chapter Eight
I sat in bed that night staring at the stupid Easter basket on my dresser, and biting off the head of the chocolate bunny Momma had placed in the said stupid basket. It had to have been the most awk
ward holiday in the history of the Marshall family. Momma got more blatant as the day progressed. For starters, I was forced to sit next to him, which wasn’t terrible. I liked Jason, I could even see myself being friends with the guy. He was pleasant, kind, and he had this comforting air about him, but since Momma was on a mission from God, or so she thought, being friends with him was out of the question.
He didn’t help matters with his dang manners. He had to pull out my chair for me, pour my water, refill my water, he even helped me with the dishes. I couldn’t totally blame him for escaping with me to the kitchen to clean up. Rick and Lana had to leave early so they could have dinner with Lana’s other grandparents. I thought it was wonderful that Valerie’s parents still treated Rick like their son. But anyway, that left us alone with Momma and Zander—a lethal combination.
Momma had gotten more gory details from Cissy’s daughter, Debbie, about the whole Mr. Wilson scandal at the high school, and she couldn’t wait to share them after innocent Lana left. I didn’t need, or want, more details about that sordid affair, so I promptly excused myself as Zander and Momma carried on like two old biddies. Before I knew it, Jason had joined me in the kitchen. I felt bad for him, so I let him stay. He, like me, wasn’t that into illicit gossip.
“You’re quite the cook,” he said as he rinsed off the dishes and I filled the dishwasher.
“Thanks.”
“It’s the best meal I’ve had in months. And the best banana cream pie I’ve ever had. Just don’t tell my mom.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
He handed me a plate, but held onto it while carefully looking at me. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
I believed him. “Well, you did eat three pieces.”
“I’ll be running extra laps tomorrow,” he said with a twinkle in his beautiful aqua eyes.
Speaking of the stupid pie, Momma gave him the extra one I brought and told him he could get the pie pan back to me. The polite man readily agreed. I, on the other hand, told him he could give it to Zander and he would make sure it made its way back to me. That earned my poor foot a stomp from my stubborn momma.
Zander thought it was hilarious and had egged it on. He gave Jason my number so he could personally return it.
I felt sick to my stomach and tossed the half-eaten bunny into my bedside wastebasket. How did my life come to this? I was competent, with an above average IQ. So maybe I was emotionally crippled, but I had good reasons for being so.
I woke up the next morning, still not feeling well, but I knew work would help. I quickly got up to get ready for the day. I refrained from wearing my normal black and chose a bold striped navy and white dress, paired with a white jacket. And, against my better judgment, I wore the luscious red lipstick momma had given me. I had to admit, it did kind of add something. I even curled my hair again. I could at least make some changes.
I felt better just walking into the quiet, uninhabited office. I needed work and routine. Over the weekend I felt like I had lost some of my carefully constructed control, but being back in the office brought some of it back. With green tea in hand, I fired up my laptop and watched it come to life. I breathed a sigh of relief as I pulled up my application. The lines of code on the screen soothed my nerves. With the stroke of the keys, I could create, manipulate, and even control the outcome. If only real life afforded me the same luxury. I was beginning to feel my life unravel. I wasn’t sure why, but the weekend had left me feeling vulnerable.
I entered in the last of the new data points. I was anxious to do a controlled test, but it would have to wait. My employees began to make their appearance. Mondays were our scheduling day. We all met together and planned who was test dating which client. We had two men and two women who were our designated relationship managers. We were getting to the point where we might have to hire more. Momma might not have thought so, but that was satisfying.
Before our meeting, Zander popped in my office. “Kenz, you’re looking stunning this morning.”
“You need to keep your voice down.”
“Why? Everyone knows we love each other.”
“Can you say that any louder?”
“I could,” he said as he sat down in front of my desk, “but I need you in a good mood.”
“That sounds more than suspicious.”
“You know me too well.”
“So what do you want?”
He faux shoved a knife in his heart. “That hurts darlin’, especially when I’m trying to be benevolent.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Now that really sounds suspicious.”
He laughed like a hyena. “I guess you do know me, but really this is for a friend. A mutual friend, even.”
“We don’t have mutual friends.” Considering he was really my only friend.
“Now Jason would be hurt by that.”
“Why? I barely know him.”
“I think he would consider you a friend.”
“I doubt it.”
“He does have your pie pan and number.”
“I hate you for that, by the way.”
“I’m happy to know your new wardrobe hasn’t affected your acid tongue.”
I sighed loudly. “So what is it you want?”
“I told you it wasn’t for me.”
“Then what friend?”
“I told you already, it’s for Jason.”
“Oh.” I was suddenly curious.
Zander eyed me curiously. “I think we should give Jason a free trial.”
“No,” I said without any consideration.
“Why not?”
“You know we only give out free services to very special cases.”
“So he wasn’t left at the altar, but his fiancée cheated on him with a close friend. That has to count for something.”
I sat back in my chair, surprised by the news. He obviously handled his situation better than I did mine. I would have guessed that it was a mutual decision. “That’s terrible, but it’s not the same.”
“Come on, Kenz, he’s new to the area and he’s looking to meet some people.”
“He doesn’t want a serious relationship?” He seemed to me like the whole white-picket-fence guy, complete with children and a dog.
Zander cleared his throat. “I think that is the ultimate goal … eventually, but for right now he’s exploring his options.”
I rubbed my face. “We could give him a discount.”
“Kenz, he’s our friend. And it’s not like he can’t afford it, but I’m not sure he quite buys into the whole dating by design thing.”
“Then why does he want to try it?”
“He’s curious, and like I said, he’s not expecting us to set him up with a life partner.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch,” he said uneasily.
“I’m not buying it.”
“Kenz, can’t you take me at my word?” He almost sounded angry. Zander was never that way with me.
I was taken aback by his tone. I almost felt … well, hurt.
He reached across the desk and took my hand. “I’m sorry, Kenz. Will you please do this, with no questions asked, because there is no one who cares about you more than me?”
I nodded my head. “I guess …”
He winked at me. “You’re the best. I promise, you won’t regret it.” He quickly retreated.
“I already do,” I called out to him as he exited.
I heard him laugh at me in the distance.
I was definitely not expecting that this morning. I felt even more unraveled by the event.
I also felt bad for Jason. No one deserved what had happened to him. What was wrong with people? I’d never understood cheaters. Woman up or man up, if you don’t want to be with someone. Be honest and break it off before you go gallivanting off with someone else. If only Brian would have been man enough to break it off before our wedding. Or if I had been smart enough to do it myself.
I had a feeling it was going to
be a long day.
We had a whopping thirty dates that needed to be scheduled this week. Those were just the ones that made the cut. We had a few people who were deemed unqualified by our psychologist, which was her politically correct way of saying they had crazy written all over them. Those people would each get a carefully crafted email letting them know there wasn’t anyone currently in our database that fit their “special” needs. We would thank them for the opportunity and call it good.
As I walked to our scheduling meeting my phone vibrated. It was odd. Lana was in school and butthead had barely left my office; they were the only ones to ever text me. I looked at my phone and did a double take.
Thanks for breakfast this morning. The pie tasted even better today.
I wasn’t sure what to do with that. I stopped in the middle of the hall and stared at my phone screen like I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing. Should I respond? Why would he text me? I took a deep breath and texted back, You’re welcome. That unsettled feeling landed in the pit of my stomach. I tried to shake it off as I walked to the conference room, but my phone went off again.
Have a good day.
Uh, okay. I didn’t respond. I walked to the meeting in my own little fog. I don’t know why it bothered me that he texted me. Maybe it was because it forced me to act like a real person. I sat in my chair and decided to be a human. You, too.
See you later.
I suppose we probably would, but I left it at that.
Zander settled in next to me. “You all right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“You look agitated.”
“Do I?”
“When don’t you?”
“Stop it. I’m not that bad.”
He reached up and touched one of my curls and let it slip through his fingers. “I dig your hair, and the new wardrobe.”
I smacked his hand away. “Thanks. We’re at work.”
“Work, schmurk.”
Right on cue, the rest of our team joined us.
Zander sat up and got all professional.
We both pulled out our tablets and pulled up the weekly schedule.
Cara, Eva, and Will, our other relationship managers, did the same.
“Good morning,” I said in a business-like manner.
His Personal Relationship Manager (Dating by Design Book 1) Page 9