Leaning close to me, Kennedy says, “Vic gets tense when she’s cooking. You get used to it.”
“Last plate!” Victoria yells at a cowering teenager. “Drop it and die, you got it?”
Kennedy may know she’s kidding, but by the look on the kid’s face I’d wager he’s not so sure. I hold the door open for him and pull it closed when he’s gone.
“Okay, ten minutes before we start serving dinner, are you ready?”
“I have the soccer team plating in the dining room. I’ll go check their progress. I’m sure it’s a disaster.”
I hold my breath in anticipation for her reaction once she’s left the room, but either they’ve managed to hold it together, or she’s too far away for her yelling to carry. I doubt the second option is possible.
“She’s intense.” Kennedy moves into the kitchen, but I don’t dare follow her. Sure, I’m tough, a decent shot, and I’ve been in my fair share of fights, but something about that five-ten ball of fury has me nervous. Kennedy is unphased, cool and collected as she picks through the food, loading a plate. She extends it to me over the island. I take it, but I’m nervous to eat any of it.
“Go ahead. Once a course is over, she’s forgotten it. Everything is fair game in here.” Kennedy checks her watch for the fifth time and calm and collected fades away.
“Vic, get a move on. Three minutes until service.”
I set my plate on the counter, admiring the power packed into her petite body. The back door opens, and a flood of teenage boys crowd the space. I back up until I’m against the wall. Undaunted, Kennedy begins shouting orders at the staff she’s assembled. She’s young, in age at least, but she’s got maturity beyond her years. I doubt half the older women I’ve dated in the last year could pull off an event like this. Within five minutes, she and her sister have sent out every entrée. When I glance back at the counter, my plate of food is empty.
An infectious giggle sneaks from behind Kennedy’s lips. “You have to eat fast around here, or you’ll end up hungry.” She pinches a spear of antipasto, salami, cheese, olive, basil and a cherry tomato and extends it to me. “I’ve seen Hudson snag food right off another person’s plate. No remorse.”
Despite my best efforts, I’m lost in her. Every time she speaks, every move her graceful arms make, every quirk of her mouth when she smiles. I have a mountain of responsibilities on my shoulders, and yet she has me transfixed to the point that I can’t look away, let alone speak in coherent sentences.
I’m still searching for something witty when my phone buzzes from my pocket. Setting the spear on the counter, I apologize, but check my cell, worried it might be mom. Rick’s name lights up the screen. I look up to Kennedy, but she’s already motioning for the door.
“Go, it’s fine. I really don’t mind.”
“It’s my boss,” I start to try to explain why I’m ducking out, but she smiles again, no animosity in sight.
“Then you better answer it,” she says. “Tell him I distracted you before you could listen to Booker’s band. I promise it won’t happen again.”
With every fiber of my being, I hope that’s not true. I click the call through and say, “Hello?” just as I’m stepping out the doors.
“Can you talk?”
“Go ahead.” I move away from the party to the far side of the cottage, away from prying ears. My rational mind takes over, reminding me I have a job to do and staring at an attractive woman ten years my junior is not that job.
“A couple analysts were going through the rest of your paperwork. Looks like Dark Fox’s lead guy, Dante Alvero, has done some work with Ace Cartwright in the past. These are old connections, at least a decade ago. Have you seen anything more recent?”
“No, can’t say I have, but I can tell by the way the money moves that Dale works with a bigger fish. Could be Dale was keeping Ace Cartwright off the books. Could be your guy.” I glance over my shoulder. Kennedy is headed back for the barn; the party is well underway. She stops by the barn doors and plants a kiss on the cheek of the older gentleman leaning against the frame. I recognize Ace Cartwright from my files. An idea tilts my heart into full tailspin.
“Where are you?” Rick asks. “I hear music. Don’t tell me you have a social life. I didn’t think it was possible.”
“No, never.” I shake the nerves from my free hand. “I’m checking something out, a hunch I have about Ace Cartwright.”
“You think he’s in on this?”
“Unclear. Dale has been friends with the Cartwright family for years. I feel like Ace had to know something, but there could be deeper connections.”
“Good work. I’ll expect a report in the morning.”
I don’t need to answer. I end the call and draw in a breath, hoping my plan will work.
Pacing in front of the cottage, I groan as loud as I can without sounding forced. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Victoria through the window. I hold my phone above my head, spinning in a slow circle as if searching for a signal. As I hoped, Victoria pops open the door.
“Drop the call?”
“Yeah, and it was my boss. He’s gonna be ticked.”
“Coverage is spotty out here.”
“Do you happen to have a landline in your place?” I ask, confident that she doesn’t.
“Not out here,” Victoria says, “but you’re welcome to use the phone in main house. The back door is open. Take the first right and you’ll be in the living room. Phone is by the lamp.”
“Thank you,” I breathe the word out with my relieved sigh as if she’s saved my life. She nods and pulls the door shut.
Kennedy is still at her father’s side. I don’t know how long the patriarch sticks it out at his events, but I wager from his shifting stance that I’ve got ten minutes at best. I quicken my pace and stay in the blind spot for most of the guests at the barn. No one follows me or seems to have noticed my absence by the time I have my hand on the back door. I slip inside and click it shut behind me.
Instead of turning right like Victoria told me, I turn left and follow the hallway, barely managing my distraction when I pass childhood pictures of Kennedy on the wall. A picture from her teenage years, complete with a thick set of braces, catches my attention, but I have to keep moving.
The office, two doors down, is a shrine to his family. A massive portrait of Ace and his three children adorns the right wall, directly in his eye line from the mahogany desk. I slide around the corner and shake the mouse, hopeful it’s not hibernating. The screen flickers on, no password needed. Ace must have left not long ago. I set my hand to his chair, still warm. My keys jangle as I fish them from my pocket. I carry a mobile flash drive between my car and house keys for such an occasion. Moving to his financial records, I copy the entirety of his files. A board creaks in the hall. I hold my breath, waiting, but it’s nothing. Old houses creak.
While the blue bar shows the progress, I click in and out of other folders, searching for any indication that he might be involved in illegal activities. For the first time in my career, I’m hopeful that he’s not. I don’t want to be the guy that busts Kennedy’s dad.
There’s a second spreadsheet under the files for the ranch detailing the musical talent they keep on retainer. I add that to my flash drive, and glance at my watch. My time is up, I know it is, but the missing piece might be in this computer. I need more time.
“Roman?”
Her sweet voice stops my heart.
✽✽✽
Kennedy
“Roman? What are you doing in here?”
He’s bent over dad’s computer, staring at the screen. Vic said he went to use the house phone, but he’s nowhere near the living room. I’m sure there’s an explanation, a rational reason, but for the life of me I can’t think of one.
“I, uh, I got lost. I think I turned left when I should have turned right, but I saw the phone in here and figured I might as well use the one I found. I hope that’s okay.”
“But why are you on th
e computer?” I sound like I’m accusing him of something. I don’t mean to be. If he’d explain what he’s doing, I’d be glad to give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Oh, that?” His sheepish smile melts my heart to goo. “He has a screensaver with family pictures. I guess I got distracted.”
Dad and his dumb screen saver.
“Please tell me you didn’t see the one of me and Hudson in the mud.”
His eyebrows arch with mischief. “And here I thought your teenage braces were the best shot.”
I groan and motion him toward me. “That’s enough of embarrassing dirt on me.”
As I turn to leave, his keys grate against the desk. I frown and turn back. “Are you leaving?”
Roman stops mid-step as if I’ve caught him off guard. “I thought I had to, work stuff, but it looks like I can stay.”
Like a kid, a goofy grin creeps over my cheeks.
“Good.”
I’d feel embarrassed, but I notice he’s got a matching grin.
Chapter 7
Kennedy
“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”
His question catches me off guard. We’re standing at the door of the barn, counting down the seconds until dinner ends and the first dance begins. I glance at him, but he’s staring out over the gathering, pretending that statement was innocent.
“I thought we were keeping it professional, Roman.” I’m not upset about his compliment. On the contrary, I hope he hears my teasing tone.
“Consider it a professional courtesy then.”
I want to press him more, ask him why he cares so much about my age, but my schedule won’t relent. “I’ll be right back,” I tell him. On impulse, I squeeze his hand. Butterflies erupt in my chest because he squeezes it back.
I’m still running my teeth over my bottom lip when I reach the stage where Booker is waiting for me. Hudson catches my eye and takes his spot behind the microphone. It’s his first wedding getting to take on a few emcee duties. After begging me for a year, I gave in. He has four lines total, and I made him practice until he had them memorized.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, would you please join me in welcoming Trina and Trevor to the dance floor for their first dance as a married couple.”
Per Trina’s request, I help her to her feet and check her dress before she travels to the floor. In our initial meeting, Trina told me she had a friend from college do half her first dance before someone told her she’d gotten barbeque sauce on the skirt. I told her I’d never let one of my brides suffer that kind of embarrassment.
As the bride and groom move to the center of the dance floor, Hudson fills the groom’s only request, and says line two of four.
“After the first verse, the bride and groom ask that you join them in their dance.”
Poor Trevor is petrified of being the center of attention. It took every bit of problem solving on my part to make his bride’s dream of a first dance happen.
“You’re busy,” Roman says as I stop at his side once more. “I think I clocked you circling this whole place in less than ninety seconds.”
“Life of an event planner. I’m the grease that keeps it going.”
Music builds and Booker’s voice croons the notes to their song with perfect cadence. He was a good choice for them. Trina’s normally unhappy face beams with her delight.
“She looks happy,” Roman says.
“Then I’ve done my job.”
“And you’ve done it well.”
I like this side of him, relaxed, open, not worrying about what people will think of us standing close enough that our arms are brushing.
“We all do our parts. Victoria handles the food. Hudson does a lot of set up and works with the sound guy for concerts. I manage our little circus, working with the brides and musicians, and running the events.”
“And what about your dad? What’s he in charge of?”
“The money.” The man keeps a tight grip on the cash flow, despite the fact that we’ve been in the black for years now. “He prefers it behind the scenes.”
“How’d this start anyway? How does one break into the wedding and event business?” It’s like he’s looking around for the first time, appreciating the work that goes into one of my events.
“My mom always wanted a farm, a ton of animals, a huge garden, you know, the whole nine yards. Dad set his sights on this place and didn’t stop until he had it. They were poor back then, nothing to their names, and she recognized the beauty of it, started letting folks rent out the back for events. It grew from there. Dad’s only regret is that she didn’t get to enjoy it longer, never saw what she started fully blossom.”
Something I’ve said has caught his attention. He hesitates a second before he asks, “If they were poor, how did they afford a place like this?”
“Well, that’s the funny part of it all, I guess. He won it in a poker game.”
“A poker game?”
“Yeah,” I search for dad, but he’s likely gone back to the house with a plate of Victoria’s leftover food. “He used to be a real card shark, hung out with some seedy folks. Even now he’s got connections to everyone in the area, I swear. He needs something done; it gets done.”
Roman has more questions for me, but Trevor is starting to look pale from all the eyes watching him. No one is standing up. No one is listening to the instructions Hudson gave.
Eager to make good on my promise to the nervous groom, I look up at Roman. “Dance with me?”
✽✽✽
Roman
If she’d punched me in the stomach, I don’t think I’d be more surprised than this. One second, I’m listening to her spill all the details about her father’s possibly underhanded dealings, and the next she’s expecting me to hold her close on the dance floor. But when her slender fingers catch mine, I can’t help but follow.
For a second, we’re the only couple on the floor with the bride and groom. If I hadn’t heard the announcement, I’d be dying of shame, but as if they only needed permission, other couples follow suit.
She pulls my arm around her waist, forward to say the least, but since it’s where I’ve been dying to be all night, I’ll allow it. My palm rests on her lower back. She catches my opposite hand in hers and the arc beneath my grip begins to sway with the music. She’s grace and elegance. Once more I’m lost to her spell, ignorant of the rest of the party watching us, oblivious to my responsibilities beyond this moment.
I need to memorize her face. Every dip, every curve, the way her lips twist and pull at her cheeks, carving deep lines in her perfect skin. I’m urging her closer with every second, but she’s not resisting. She’s giving in as if it’s part of the dance. In my heart, I worry where my steps might lead but can’t deny the feeling growing between us.
“What did your boss need?” Kennedy tilts her face up to mine. Green eyes captivate me. It’s always been my favorite color, but her shade of deep jade is reaching the top of the list.
“Work stuff,” I tell her. “It’s pretty boring.”
“Not really. Not if it’s about the music.”
But it’s not, and I’ve got a flash drive with files I’ve stolen from her father’s computer in my pocket.
“It’s more about the books and business aspects.” Needing to see her smile again, I add, “Trust me, I prefer the music.”
“Of course, because with music comes dancing.”
I’m not sure you can call what we’re doing dancing. More like cuddling to the beat of a song, but if it gives me an excuse to hold her close a little while longer, I’ll take it. For at least the length of the song, I plan to ignore every negative voice in my head that says it won’t work.
“Where do you put the animals when you have these events?” I ask, hoping she’ll keep looking up at me to answer. When she looks at me, it feels like I’m the center of her universe, like I can do no wrong. She doesn’t stare through me like other people. I’m not another face in the crowd. Kennedy sees
me.
“The animals?”
“You said your mom wanted a farm, are they gone now or…” I let it trail off because I don’t want to upset her with memories of her mother’s death.
“Oh, no this is the event barn. There’s another side of our property with the animals, far away from all this. It’s older, and smelly. You can’t clean up animals this fast. Though in truth, only a few chickens are left, and Victoria’s horse. We don’t have mom’s passion for a menagerie. Plus, the storage for all this equipment is over there, a whole warehouse full of decorations and farm equipment. We built this event barn and the new auditorium to replace the older models.”
It pricks my ears. There are a number of ways to launder money but purchasing large machinery would do the trick. If Ace needs to funnel large amounts of cash for Dale, a tractor purchase wouldn’t raise any red flags. I need to see that warehouse.
Those two perfect lips curve into a gentle smile and blood rushes to my cheeks. “Every now and then,” Kennedy says, “you disappear, as if you’ve gone to a whole different dimension. And then poof! You’re back. I keep wondering where you go.”
Guilt grates on my heart. Telling her I’m equally attracted to her as well as suspicious of her family won’t gain me any rewards.
“My mind wanders,” where our hands are linked, I rub my thumb over hers, “but you always seem to bring me back.”
“And what do you think of Booker and his band?”
She’s changing the subject. She does it every time I compliment her. Hard to believe a girl like her isn’t drowning in adoration from every man she meets.
“I think, I need to stick around and keep listening,” I say, but it’s far too close to a whisper because she’s stealing my breath away again.
She’s about to speak when the music drops out. Instead of more words, she squeezes my hand and pulls away. “Thanks for the dance.”
With a quick slip of her hands down her skirt to straighten the wrinkles, she’s gone again, back in charge, back to the world she knows. She can turn it off, the attraction we’re feeling, but me, there’s no hope for me.
The Unforgettable Queen of Diamonds Page 6