by Lori Wilde
“Five.”
“I’m just worried.”
“About what?”
“She’ll fly into a rage.”
“She’s going to do that anyway. And you won’t be there when it happens.”
“No, but then, the worst will happen.”
“What’s the worst, Kelsey?” Tasha asked, stepping closer to her. “What is the bottom line that you’re so terrified of? Do you think Filomena will get physical with you? Even if she had dragged you back home, do you think she’s going to lock you up?”
Kelsey paused, and said nothing for a very long time, and when she spoke her voice was the tone of a small child. “She’ll ignore me. Until she thinks I’ve been adequately punished. Not for an hour, not for a day, not for a week, but for months.”
“All right,” Tasha relented. “Seventy-two hours. I dare you to turn your phone off for seventy-two hours and spend the next three days just enjoying yourself. Not only that but give me your phone and I’ll hide it, so you can’t find it in a moment of weakness. Do you accept?”
Kelsey massaged her temple, getting an instant headache at the thought of confronting Filomena. Her eye twitched. Every instinct inside her urged her to give up the futile goal of a relaxing holiday, go home, and beg her mother’s forgiveness as she’d done for the last twenty-seven years whenever Filomena’s nose got out of joint. Anything to avoid a showdown.
Because if she didn’t, the showdown was coming.
But she didn’t have to think about that now. If she accepted Tasha’s challenge she’d have seventy-two hours of peace at any rate. Every word her friend spoke was true. Kelsey knew it deep down. Had known for a very long time.
But she’d been a coward. Unable to face the loneliness and isolation that came from being frozen out by Filomena. When she had thoughts of leaving her mother’s employment, and making her own place in the world, her eye started the miserable twitching. And eventually, the twitching, unchecked, would settle into a mind-numbing migraine.
In the past, to stave off the guilt, stress, and pain, she would list Filomena’s good qualities, because come on, even the worst person had good traits.
And Kelsey kept telling herself that her mother wasn’t the worst person. Kelsey could see past Filomena’s bluster to the hurt child inside her who had never gotten the attention she craved. Filomena had grown up in a household full of money, competition, and contempt without an ounce of tenderness or compassion.
Filomena’s childhood had made her quite cunning. She was smart, charismatic, and could be very witty. The trick was not to spend too much time in her company. To get out before the criticisms, blaming, gaslighting, and hate-fueled gossip began. Unfortunately, Kelsey spent the majority of her workday hours with her mother.
She fished around in her purse for Lionel Berg’s card. Stared at it. Thought about how enraged her mother would be if she accepted Berg’s offer. Did she really want to be his campaign manager? Or was something inside her attracted to the idea of hurting her mother?
Working for her mother was unhealthy. She could see that now. Tasha had been trying to get her to see it for a long time. But Kelsey had worn blinders for twenty-seven years and it was only seeing the pity in Tasha’s eyes that reality fully hit her.
If she stayed within her mother’s sphere of influence, and kept allowing her to violate her personal boundaries, she would never be happy. Never be free. Never be fulfilled. The truth was hard to look at.
It was as if she’d been sporting mud-smeared glasses and Tasha had taken them off, cleaned them up, and put them back on and she could see the world with startlingly clear eyes. And for the first time since she could remember, Kelsey felt real hope that things could indeed be different.
“Ticktock. This is your life calling,” Tasha said. “For real.”
She looked at Tasha, at the card from Berg, and the phone she’d fished from her purse. This was it. Her defining moment. Now or never. Let the damn chips fall where they may.
Resolute, Kelsey turned off her phone and gave it to Tasha. “Put the thing somewhere I can’t find it. My future is in your hands.”
Chapter 16
“What’s eating you, boss?” Sean asked from his place on the ladder, a string of lights in his hands. “I mean beyond trying to see from behind that shiner?”
Noah stood on the ground, hands on his hips, head cocked back, squinting up at the gazebo. They were behind schedule. The decorating committee was coming by at four thirty and it was almost noon. They weren’t going to finish in time.
“Don’t call me boss. It makes me feel old.”
“Why not? You sign my paychecks.”
“I’m also younger than you.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re the man in charge.”
Hmm, Noah supposed he was, but he wasn’t even really sure how that had happened. “The design scheme we were working on is taking too long. Let’s shortcut and skip putting lights on the cupola. That’s good enough.”
“Good enough? That’s not something you say to a navy SEAL.” Sean shook his head. “No such thing as good enough. Don’t you want to win? Think of that money for ALS research.”
Noah shrugged. “If we do, we do. If we don’t, we don’t.”
“Joel could take the competition. Have you seen the Brazos Queen? It’s epic.”
“If he wins he’ll give the money to ALS research, so no biggie.” Noah shrugged.
“Where’s your spirit of competition? Or are you just too lazy to put up a fight?”
To tell the truth, he was dragging after the beating he’d taken last night, but Noah would rather lay his lackadaisical attitude off to laziness than admit he was feeling raw and vulnerable.
“If you’d get a ladder and get your butt up here, it would go much faster,” Sean said.
Noah didn’t want to look like a wimp, but his head was throbbing like a bastard and he’d gotten up at the crack of dawn after not sleeping much with sumptuous Kelsey curled next to him and a “no touching” policy between them.
“It’s cold,” he grumbled. “The wind’s kicking up, and it’s dangerous on a ladder. You shouldn’t be up there either.”
“Excuses.” Sean scoffed. “I’m not half-assing this. I take pride in my work.”
Noah jammed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Fine. I’ll go get another ladder and assist. We’ll blow away together.”
He retrieved a second ladder from the shed, erected it on the opposite side of the gazebo. His cut cheek tingled, and his eye burned, but he wasn’t going to whine about it.
“Here,” Sean said, feeding a strand of Christmas lights toward Noah. “This goes up the right side of the cupola.”
“I know. I designed it.”
“You’re in a mood.”
Was he? He didn’t know what to make of Kelsey or these feelings he kept having. Noah was seldom out of sorts, and whenever he was the least bit grouchy, people noticed.
“What’s up between you and Blondie?” Sean asked as Noah scaled higher on the ladder, the strand of lights clutched in his hand.
“Don’t call her Blondie—it’s demeaning. Her name is Kelsey.”
“My bad. What’s up with Kelsey?”
“Why do you care?”
“I saw her coming out of your bedroom this morning. Not that I’m judging, but if reconnecting with your childhood sweetheart is going to make you so prickly, I advise not to throw a coin in the Sweetheart Fountain.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I can’t help but worry when I see a friend on the fast train to a broken heart,” Sean said.
“What makes you think I’m going to get my heart broken?” Noah challenged.
“For one thing, Blondie . . .”
“Kelsey.”
“Kelsey is a go-getter and you . . .” Sean met Noah’s gaze over the metal cupola roof. “Are not.”
“So? Opposites attract.”
“And she just got stood up at the al
tar, on what, Saturday?”
“Yes.”
“That’s Saturday, as in two days ago.” Sean inched up to the very top of his ladder and stretched long to anchor his strand of lights. “You’re looking a whole lot like the rebound guy from here.”
“There is nothing for her to rebound from. Her fiancé chose his wedding day to come out of the closet.”
“You think that makes things easier? The woman’s mind has got to be as disheveled as hell after something like that. Have fun together, but don’t start picking out wedding rings.”
“Good Lord, why would you even think that? All we’ve done is a little kissing—”
“And you slept in the same bed.”
“Nothing happened!”
“But you’re a hopeless romantic. Now your brother, Joel . . . there is a sensible guy. But you? When it comes to love, you leap before you look. Melissa, case in point. You knew that from the beginning you two had nothing in common. You ignored it.”
“Melissa was different. I was young and riding the high of a big basketball contract . . .”
“And Melissa was there drooling over you. No effort on your part. You had a hot chick, and money in the bank, and you thought why not get married . . .”
“I’m not paying you to psychoanalyze me.”
“Then there’s the fact that you earned yourself a shiner over Kelsey.”
“How do you know Kelsey has anything to do with this?” Noah touched his eye, but the ladder wobbled in the wind and he grabbed hold with both hands.
Sean snorted. “You’re the most easygoing guy in Twilight. It would take something mighty serious for you to get into a fight. Two plus two equals four, my friend.”
“Meaning?”
“Beautiful mystery woman from your past shows up in town, next thing you know, you’re sporting a black eye. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to decipher that chemical equation.”
“Fine, you’re right.” Noah grunted, and told him what had happened with Filomena’s Town Car thugs.
“Shit, that’s even worse than I suspected.” Sean ran a palm over his head. “I figured some guy grabbed her ass or something and you stepped in.”
“It’s not as serious as my face makes it look.”
“And you’re rafting down a river with Cleopatra.”
“Huh?”
“De Nile.”
“Ha-ha. Hand me your staple gun and the lights.”
“I’m serious, Noah.” Sean paused to pick up the staple gun from where he’d rested it in the roof gutter and passed it across the roof to Noah. “I’m worried about you.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“Do you?”
“You’re one to talk. You took Little Miss Thing to bed on the first date.”
“Don’t call her Little Miss Thing. It’s demeaning. Her name is Tasha.” Sean got moony-eyed. “And you got that wrong. Tasha is the one who took me to bed.”
“And you’re giving me dating advice?”
“I tried to resist.”
“I’m sure you tried so hard.”
“What can I say?” Sean shrugged, grinned. “Tasha is a firecracker. But we’re not talking about me. I’m not the one who falls willy-nilly into relationships at the drop of a hat.”
“Me either.”
“Excuse me? In college alone there was . . .” Sean ticked off names on his fingers. “Neve, Tiffany, Ginger, and—”
“Remind me again why I hired you?”
“I keep you on the straight and narrow.”
“Is that really what you’re going with? Putting you in charge of the straight and narrow is like throwing gasoline on a campfire to put it out.”
“Just keeping it real, man.”
“I’m trying to help Kelsey, you know? She’s been through a lot and her mother is a doozy . . .”
“And?”
Out of habit, Noah started to pull a palm down his face, but the minute his hand touched his sore cheek, he stopped. The wind gusted, cutting through him like a blade and rocking his tenuous perch on the ladder.
“And?” Both Sean’s acid tone and hard-edged gaze held his feet to the fire.
Noah liked being happy. His friend’s prodding stirred up emotions he’d rather not feel. He should have fought harder for Kelsey ten years ago. If he had, maybe she would have already broken free from Filomena’s claws. She’d needed him, and he’d let her down. But he couldn’t say all that to Sean.
“At least I’m housebroken,” Noah quipped, reciting a line from his favorite movie.
“Don’t quote The Big Lebowski to me,” Sean said. “I see right through your Dude act. You skim through life on your looks and charm, never digging too deep.”
“Wanna go knock down some pins when we get done here?” Noah asked, trying to ease his way out of the conversation with another Big Lebowski reference. “Elf bowling started on the first. And we could check out the new fondue restaurant on the square.”
Sean clicked his tongue and shook his head. “How is it that you own a boatel and I’m your handyman.”
“You went into the Navy, while I on the other hand opted for the NBA.”
“Oh yeah, my bad for not being born with six-foot-five genes.”
Before Noah could think of a comeback, he heard the sound of a golf cart motoring up the trail, and spied Kelsey and Tasha pulling up to the Rockabye.
Kelsey swung out of the golf cart all long legs and golden braided hair.
One look at her and his chest swelled, and his pulse skipped, and his breath caught . . . and Noah knew what Sean had said was true. If he wasn’t careful, Kelsey James was going to break his heart into a hundred little pieces.
Again.
But this wasn’t about him, was it?
She deserved to be happy and free.
While he might not figure into her long-term equation, he did know how to relax and have a good time. He could flip things for her. Give to Kelsey what she gave to others—attention, kindness, caring. She hadn’t had enough of those things in her life. He could be good to her. Treat her like the goddess she didn’t realize she was.
His good deed for the holidays. And if he ended up with a wounded heart, well, those were the breaks. He expected nothing in return.
As she and Tasha walked toward the gazebo, Noah felt a surge of joy so great he almost fell off the ladder. And when she came to stand beneath him, shading her eyes with a bandaged hand, a genuine smile crossed her face. Kelsey was as glad to see him as he was to see her.
“Hey,” he called down to her.
“Hey, yourself.” Kelsey’s blue eyes twinkled in the sunlight.
Her beauty took his breath and he almost backtracked. If he fell now, he’d hit the ground hard, and he wasn’t talking about falling off the ladder. “Got a question for you.”
“What’s that?”
“Ever eat fondue?”
An official date.
She and Noah were going on their first official date in a decade. Should she feel this giddy? Kelsey didn’t think so. It seemed too dangerous.
After she and Tasha returned to the Rockabye, Kelsey was desperate to distract herself from her cell phone. She suggested they roll up their sleeves and help Noah and Sean finish decorating the gazebo.
They’d had a blast, the four of them laughing, joking, and bantering as they worked.
Noah looked fantastic.
He stripped off his red plaid mackinaw to reveal a black wool turtleneck pullover that clung to his hunky broad shoulders. His dark hair ruffled in the breeze and his black eye and steri-stripped cheek cut lent him a rakish, bad boy air. He wore rugged Rockport boots and she liked the way he looked in the ensemble—a suave lumberjack.
At dusk, just minutes before they finished, the preliminary round contest judges showed up. The island, boatel, gazebo, and suspension bridge archway were aglow with lights, and Christmas music from the speakers on the Rockabye accompanied the light show.
Joel, who’d jus
t made the finals for the Brazos Queen, came to join his twin for his judging. Raylene too had joined them.
Noah said he didn’t care if he won or not, but to Kelsey his body language said that he wasn’t being honest with himself. His usual laid-back slouch vanished. As the judges, two men and a woman who looked vaguely familiar, oohed and aahed and took notes, he pulled up his spine as if his height could influence their decision.
He fiddled with the zipper on his coat and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Ran his palm over his head repeatedly. Made too many jokes about his facial bruises.
He desperately wanted that prize money for ALS research. He and his mother had been close and losing her at a young age impacted him more than he liked to admit. Kelsey’s heartstrings tugged. She crossed her fingers and said a little prayer that he would win.
But wishing and hoping didn’t seem like enough. What more could she do to help?
“I love how Noah synched the music to the light display,” Kelsey pointed out, in case the judges hadn’t noticed that when “Winter Wonderland” played all the lights turned frosty blue. Or when “All I Want for Christmas Is You” came on, the lights chased each other at a quickening pace, mimicking a racing pulse.
Noah cut his eyes at her. “They get it, Kelsey.”
Goodness, had she stepped on his toes? Quelled, she pressed her palm against her mouth.
“Wait a minute,” said the female judge. “I know you. You’re Kelsey James. We met at the Fourth of July gala for the Dallas Symphony Orchestra. We donated to your mother’s mayoral campaign because of how impassioned you were about the good she could do for Dallas.” The woman stuck out her hand. “Judy Paulson.”
“Mrs. Paulson, yes, yes. What a delight to see you again.” Kelsey clasped her hand and went into full political diplomat mode. “Thank you so much for supporting my mother’s campaign.”
“I know Filomena will do a world of good for the city.”
Kelsey struggled to keep her smile genuine. She could only pray that her mother’s desire to look good in public translated into her doing the right things for the city. “Do you still live in Dallas?”
“No, we just moved here to Twilight. We bought the historical Spencer House on the river bluff overlooking the town.” Judy Paulson pointed in the direction of the biggest house in Twilight, a looming Greek Revival three-story mansion. The roofline was visible through the bareness of winter. “What are you doing in town?”