Look who’s talking. Regret and guilt hit Kendall hard as the thought drummed through her head.
Charlotte lifted her chin and drew herself up. “What do you mean our lifestyle? It is their lifestyle. You’re not one of them. Don’t ever debase yourself in my presence in such a way.”
“But I am one of them,” Kendall protested, her sadness almost overwhelming. “If only they’ll have me.”
“Bah!” Charlotte waved a hand, the gesture as dismissive as the tone of her voice.
“Charlotte! Stop this. If it wasn’t for Roxy, Knox’s uncle would’ve killed you.”
“I know the woman saved my life when Avalon took a dark turn. For that, I’m grateful to her. However, her deed didn’t change her overall character. She was trash before she saved me and she’s still trash. She’s classless. I just cannot abide her.”
“Give her a chance. Please. For me. I invited you without her knowledge. Please behave as you taught me to do. With calm decorum.”
“As you know, I was wrong in regards to them. You, especially, should understand that they make you sink to their level. Those people don’t allow you to keep your decorum. You have never been able to accept those barbaric bikers, even though, for the time being, you are married to one of them.”
“I hope it’s longer than for the time being,” Kendall retorted. “You apologized to Roxy,” she added, turning the subject away from her marriage and back to Charlotte’s behavior. “I thought your words to her were sincere, Charlotte. I’ve never known you to fib.”
Charlotte gasped. “Fib? You accuse me of being a fibber? That is such a harsh word, dear.”
Kendall bit her lip. “I’m so sorry.”
“I will have you know I was quite sincere when I said sorry to that woman. I was overwhelmed with emotions, thankful to be alive. These people try your patience. Test your resolve. Make you rethink if it is a good idea to socialize outside of your class. Think of Knox! He apologized to them also after they beat the tar out of him. He said he’d changed and accepted them, too. They are the ones who never change. They are the reason good folk like you and me and Knox Harrington go back on their word. We realize our efforts are useless. They are all morons. I see that clearly now. And I also clearly see Roxanne as a baseborn, ignorant, loudmouth piece of trash.”
Kendall gasped. “I won’t stop being her friend because of how you feel, Charlotte. Just as I won’t stop being yours.” Not that Roxy had ever, or would ever, demand such a thing of her. “Please don’t ruin this afternoon.”
“Just as that woman is the same, so am I. Thanks to them! I abhor the lot of them. My status hasn’t changed much since Brooks has gotten back into Outlaw’s good graces. Brooks is lucky that I love him. He still has me living like a pauper, while that Roxanne-woman is about to marry into one of the richest families in the country. It’s an appalling, ironic travesty.”
Kendall was getting nowhere with Charlotte, so she remained silent, advice offered to her by Dr. Briscow. Every statement didn’t require a response. Every topic up for debate didn’t have to turn into a battle. Kendall lived her life at war because her emotions and thoughts were always in turmoil. Wanting her family back was top priority, so Kendall would try her best to heed the psychiatrist’s suggestions.
A few minutes later, Kendall drove up to the Harrington mansion and stopped behind two cars already parked. She got out of her car and started toward the door, smiling at Roxy’s purple Navigator and scowling at Zoann’s Jeep Cherokee.
Charlotte was right on Kendall’s heels as they paused at the front entrance. Before they rang the bell, the door swung open and a butler in uniform stood there.
“Mrs. Donovan,” he greeted. “Mrs. Harrington and the others are awaiting your arrival.”
“Traffic held me up,” Kendall answered smoothly, when in fact, it was the detour to Charlotte’s house. She really hadn’t wanted Charlotte to tag along, but the poor woman had lost most of her society friends, and her family had drifted apart because she’d gotten on the wrong side of Outlaw. Kendall felt somehow responsible since the stand Charlotte had taken against Outlaw had been on Kendall’s behalf. She stepped aside so Charlotte could enter. “This is Mrs. Redding.”
The butler nodded, not betraying his thoughts about the extra, uninvited guest. “Very good, ma’am.” Once he shut the door, he walked past Kendall and Charlotte. “Follow me,” he instructed politely.
As she walked behind the butler, Kendall noted the crystal chandeliers, silk wallpaper, marble floors, and fine artwork in the corridors. The Harrington house was magnificent, suggesting not just wealth, but wealth. A bank account that would last for generations.
The butler opened a pair of double doors. “Mrs. Harrington, Mrs. Donovan and Mrs. Redding have arrived,” he announced.
“Mrs. Who?” Roxy asked sharply, unseen but quite loudly heard. “No, you didn’t, Kendall.”
A throat cleared. “Please, show them in, Merrick,” a voice as cultured as Charlotte’s said.
The servant stepped aside, and Kendall entered an airy room with traditional décor in tones of cream and white, with a French antique Aubusson rug in the center. She’d looked at something similar for one of the rooms in her house, but ultimately decided against it. In retrospect, it was because Johnnie wouldn’t have liked it even if he’d accepted on her behalf.
“Joan, darling,” Charlotte greeted, walking forward with the dignity of a queen.
Joan Harrington stood. “So good to see you,” she told Charlotte as they air-kissed each other’s cheeks.
Roxy threw Kendall a dark look.
“I’m sorry,” Kendall mouthed.
“Kendall, Charlotte, we have orange juice, coffee, pear spritzes, and cranberry-champagne cocktail.” Joan indicated the elegant setup of tables near the huge bank of windows. “I thought buffet style would work best for the meeting.”
“What would you like, Charlotte?” Kendall asked nervously, withering under Roxy’s burning anger. “I’ll get it.”
“The pear spritz,” Charlotte responded, seeming to stand taller in surroundings she felt she should be in. “Thank you, dear.” She headed to one of the Bergere chairs, while Joan seated herself in the other one.
“Meggie, Zoann, Bunny, Bailey,” Kendall greeted, since they only seemed to want to stare at her. “Roxy.”
“Hi Kendall,” Meggie greeted with a smile.
Kendall couldn’t place the tone in the girl’s voice. It almost sounded cool, but that wasn’t Meggie’s style, so Kendall dismissed it and headed to the table containing the drinks. She picked up the pear spritz and the cranberry-champagne cocktail, admiring the crisp, white tablecloths on the two tables. One held drinks and the other held fine china plates, cloth napkins, silverware, and trays of food.
Kendall brought Charlotte her drink, then sipped her own, assessing the room. Charlotte and Joan sat on one side in designer clothes with legs demurely crossed.
Meggie wore brown suede pants and a cream-colored cashmere sweater. Kendall had actually been with Meggie the day she’d purchased the outfit. She actually looked decent. Zoann wore scrubs—of all the tacky things. Bunny and Bailey wore jeans, while Roxy had on a stylish jumpsuit, drop earrings, and heels. Roxy dressed like she deserved to be a Harrington. Looking at each side of the room, where women who were worlds apart sat on separate sides, Kendall’s uncertainty surprised her.
Charlotte’s designer clothes might’ve been from a resale shop, but they were still name brand and added to her inherent elegance. On the other hand, Meggie’s outfit had been extremely expensive, but she was still low-class.
Roxy, Meggie, and Bailey sat on the sofa. Two extra chairs had been brought in for Bunny and Zoann—and placed on that side of the room. If Kendall sat on Joan’s side, she would have more space. Besides, that setup would form a nice circle.
Joan had drawn a dividing line between her and Roxy. Kendall was almost certain the chair Charlotte sat in had been meant for herself.
“The seat Charlotte took was going to be yours,” Joan confirmed to Kendall.
She offered Joan a gracious smile. Though she didn’t want to offend Charlotte or Joan, hurting Roxy was out of the question. Whether the other women spoke to her or not, they’d agreed to let Kendall plan the weddings with them. They could have just as easily told Roxy it was either her or them.
Kendall sat her glass on the coffee table, then dragged her chair midway between each side, hoping everyone understood.
“Well, then,” Joan started with a little laugh, not giving away her feelings on Kendall’s actions. “First, I’d like to congratulate my soon-to-be daughter-in-law on her recent engagement.” She lifted her glass, waited until the other women did the same with theirs, then took a sip.
“Thank you, Joan,” Roxy responded politely. “Although this is a surprise, considering you had almost three fucking weeks to congratulate me.”
Kendall shifted in her seat, needing to gulp a glass of scotch, instead of a weak champagne cocktail.
“Oh, Roxy, darling, forgive me. I’ve been so busy and Knox took me completely by surprise when he told me and his father he’d proposed to you.”
“How many days did you stay in bed upon hearing the news?” Charlotte asked sweetly. She offered Roxy a false smile. “Knox is her only child and, yet again, she’s losing him to the vagaries of his heart.”
“In a fucking minute—” Roxy started.
“May I say something?” Kendall interrupted. She didn’t want Roxy to burn her bridges with Joan. No matter what, the woman was that asshole’s mother—Roxy’s soon-to-be mother-in-law.
“Yeah, bye,” Roxy snapped, “and take this bitch with you. She wasn’t invited, Kendall. What the fuck is wrong with you, bringing a bitch that hates me to plan one of the most special days of my and Bailey’s lives?”
“That’s what I wanted to say,” Kendall said quietly. “But first I want to thank you.” She met each of their gazes—Roxy, Meggie, Zoann, Bailey, and Bunny—hoping she conveyed her gratitude. “You didn’t have to include me, yet you did.”
“As long as you’re Johnnie’s wife, you’re part of the family,” Zoann told her, without warmth, her look and her tone telling Kendall she hoped that situation would change soon.
Kendall lowered her lashes. “But I haven’t been invited to the family dinners in weeks.”
“You know when they are held,” Bunny replied with a shrug. “It was up to you to attend or not.”
Meggie sighed, and glided her fingers through her golden hair. “Kendall, please come to dinner tomorrow night. It’ll be at my house, and I’d love to have you.”
Staring at Meggie, Kendall saw the strong resemblance to Emily. Wasn’t it written somewhere that there were seven people in the world who mirrored each other’s looks?
Meggie did look like Emily, which had tortured Kendall for years. But the girl wasn’t Emily. Most importantly, she had a completely different personality, a completely different outlook. She wasn’t vile and evil like Emily. Then, Meggie’s build was smaller. Her hair was lighter. Emily was a honey blonde and her eyes were a darker blue than Meggie’s.
In Kendall’s mind, though, Emily and Meggie had been the same. Kendall had ruined everything because she’d set Emily—and therefore Meggie—as the ideal.
Emily never would’ve extended a dinner invitation to Kendall, under the circumstances.
“Thank you. I’d love to attend,” she answered.
“Well, I hope everyone brought their appetites,” Joan said into the silence. “Tempers are always cooler on a full stomach. Let’s eat, then we can get into the wedding discussion.”
Kendall’s house was beautifully-appointed, just the type of home she’d appreciate, with the airs she liked to put on.
Bitter anger rushed through Knox. Outlaw had bullshitted him with a story about this house being one of the club’s safe houses. Specifically, his family’s.
Riiigggghhhttt, and Knox was the King of England. Artwork, elaborate lighting, and Persian rugs, wasn’t for Megan Caldwell. Even if it was, it certainly wouldn’t withstand the bratty onslaught of Outlaw’s Baby Thug, CJ.
No, this house had been purchased with Outlaw’s diabolical plan for Kendall in mind.
Walking around, Knox scoped out places to install his various cameras. He also had listening devices for rooms he couldn’t install cameras. Outlaw had given him blueprints of the house, so he knew where each room was, but he needed to get a bird’s eye view for installation purposes.
The master bedroom had light gray walls and white trimming. The bed—with white sheets and white comforter—was neatly made. A pair of burgundy alligator pumps stood in the spot between the wall and the nightstand. A silk robe lay on the back of an overstuffed chair.
It surprised Knox to see photos of Johnnie, Rory, Matilda, and JJ on the dresser.
A camera in the bedroom meant complete lack of privacy, but Outlaw insisted on it. He wanted to know if Kendall was cheating on Johnnie. Not that he had any reason to believe that. It was just another excuse he used for his spying.
Once again, Knox didn’t like it, but he wanted to be rid of Kendall bad enough to follow through on the orders.
It was easiest to install a light-bulb camera in this room. He’d have a panoramic view, motion detector that alerted him to movement, night vision, and microphone. Unlike in the other rooms, once the subject or subjects laid in bed, he’d get a clear view of a face.
It was easy enough to switch bulbs in the spherical light fixture. He set the old light bulb on the dresser, reminding himself to take it with him, then headed to the master bath. There, he found two wet towels on the floor, makeup and perfume scattered on the vanity. The door leading to the closet stretched wide open, inviting Knox to take a peek.
Her clothes were neatly arranged by dresses, skirts, pants, and tops, further separated by color. A wall of shoes faced him, while belts and purses took up a small section.
Would Outlaw want a camera in here…No. Kendall might walk in undressed. Her bedroom was bad enough. No camera in the bathroom or closet.
Since he needed to get started downstairs, Knox grabbed the old light bulb and returned to the first floor, heading for the kitchen.
He needed a visual of faces. With a panoramic lightbulb recording from above, he’d only see the top of heads, so Knox decided the microwave was the best place for the kitchen camera.
Though Stretch was recovering from his final surgery, he’d still coached Knox on quick and efficient installation. Stretch hadn’t asked why he needed the knowledge, and Knox hadn’t volunteered. If he didn’t know, it was up to Outlaw to tell him. Besides, Stretch had already hacked into her alarm system and created a master passcode for Outlaw’s benefit.
Once Knox installed the microwave’s new start button, the rest of the job should go smoothly.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Which hor d’oeuvres did you enjoy?” Joan Harrington asked Roxy with expectation.
She’d had poppy seed and Parmesan cheese straws, tomato tartare stuffed in mushrooms, steak tartare in cherry tomatoes, smoked trout chevrons with dilled crème fraiche, pecan stuffed dates wrapped in prosciutto, grape leaves stuffed with shrimp cannel, goose rillettes with French baguettes, pink meringue kisses, white chocolate lavender hearts, and mini kiwi tartlets with whipped cream and candied lilacs.
The entire time they’d eaten, no one said much. Every now and then, Joan would break in with the name of the next food they were tasting—as if the fucking place cards weren’t enough.
“My favorite was actually the steak tartare in the cherry tomatoes,” Roxy answered, undecided as to whether Joan Harrington was happy about Knox’s proposal or not.
If Roxy had to guess, she’d say not. After the first disastrous meeting with Knox�
�s parents, they’d made her feel welcome whenever she saw them. Roxy understood that a marriage was permanent, something Knox couldn’t easily walk away from and she believed that made all the difference in the world to his parents.
“I will put them on the menu,” Roxy went on. She looked at the girls. “What do you think?”
“I liked the rillettes,” Bailey said. “I’m going to add that to the menu as well.”
“Darlings,” Joan began, “I didn’t have these dishes made to add to your menu. We are taste-testing so we can come up with the menu.”
“And the menu is what we decide,” Roxy stated.
Joan tittered. “You’re precious. We want to keep the food elegant and simple. You’re not only dating Knox. You are about to marry into the Harrington family. A very philanthropic family with excellent social standing.”
“Roxy is a very good cook, Joan,” Kendall offered. “She probably has the menu all figured out in her head.”
“We don’t want an oyster boat, red beans and rice, gumbo, and fried alligator,” Joan said with a saccharin smile. “That’s fine for New Orleans, but not for Portland.”
“Don’t waste your breath, Joan,” Charlotte had the nerve to chortle. “She’s one of them. A biker woman.”
“That’s uncalled for,” Kendall said quickly.
Roxy threw Kendall another glare. What made her think bringing Charlotte’s ass to their meeting was a good idea, Roxy didn’t know. She and Charlotte had never gotten along. The few hours of commiseration they’d shared when they’d been taken by Knox’s crazy uncle was long since gone.
However, Roxy felt a little off-balance. All the girls did, she suspected, with the exception of Kendall probably. They were in a high-society mansion of a high-society snob. Even for a goddamn taste-testing, the atmosphere lacked the down-home, easy-going vibe they all liked.
Kendall was the only one who hated those situations.
Kendall…and Knox.
Roxy couldn’t forget some of Knox’s words from the dinner on the night they’d made love. She knew he hadn’t meant to be condescending, yet he had been. No wonder Mortician was so relentless in his quest to have them live separately until after the wedding.
Death Dwellers Motorcycle Club:: Fifteen Bad Boy Biker Books Page 470