Gabe took a deep breath. He hadn’t intended on talking about himself, but now he felt compelled. “You know that whole rebellious phase I went through when I was twelve and thirteen?”
She nodded.
“Well, that was because I found out the man I thought was a family friend, the guy I called Uncle Bob, was really my father.”
Her eyebrows arched upward and her mouth rounded into an O.
“My father was always out of the picture, so my mom raised me by herself. It wasn’t easy. She was living off a secretary’s salary, which was enough to get by on but not enough to have any extra, you know?”
“How did you find out the truth?” Kendall asked softly.
“I got pneumonia one winter and ended up in the hospital. They wanted my family health history, and she told them she didn’t know about my father. But then when she thought I was asleep, she made a phone call. The next time she left the room, I hit Redial. It was ‘Uncle Bob’s’ office.” He made quotes with his fingers around the name. “I demanded to know what was going on, and she broke down and told me.”
“Wow. Who was he, then, that they kept his true identity from you?”
Gabe grimaced, a ghost of the disappointment and dismay he’d felt still present all these years later. “He was her boss. And he was married at the time. With two daughters.”
“Oh.” She took in the revelation. “I would be angry too.”
“I was furious. Even more so because he knew we were struggling and never paid her more. He ate up my gratitude when he brought me new soccer equipment for school or a bike for Christmas. I thought he was this great guy doing things out of the kindness of his own heart, when really he was a deadbeat who refused to take care of his own kid because he already had a family.”
“I take it you two haven’t reconciled?”
If she guessed that from his tone, he wasn’t hiding his bitterness as well as he thought. He let out a short laugh. “No.”
She reached over and placed her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry, Gabe. That’s terrible. I really can’t blame you for reacting the way you did.”
His eyes flicked down to her hand on his arm, but he kept his face impassive, not wanting to spook her. She had been so distant that touching him voluntarily seemed like a real act of trust. “Thanks. I wish I could say I was completely over it. I mean, I forgave my mom, and I have no doubt that things worked out for the best for me, but I still can’t understand what he was thinking.”
“Do his wife and kids know?”
“They got divorced. Ironically, his wife left him for someone else.” He made a face. “At that point, there wasn’t any real reason to hide it. His kids know now, which I assume means that his ex does too.”
“But he and your mom—”
“Barely speak. My reaction put a damper on that arrangement. She found a new job, a better job, and to my knowledge, they have very little contact.”
Kendall took her hand back and a pang of regret shot through him. He found himself hoping that she would return the trust and share something of her own life, but instead she just went back to her sandwich.
And then she asked in a small voice, “Do you know when my grandmother’s will was written? Do you think she knew where to find me and that’s why she named me as heir? Was it . . . some sort of deathbed change of heart?”
More regret shot through him, this time that he couldn’t give her the information she sought. “I’m sorry. I have no idea. Her will came as a complete surprise to everyone.”
“It’s just that . . . I was in four foster homes and a group home before I turned ten.” She shot him a sad smile. “I was sure that my mom was looking for me, so every time a family wanted to adopt me, I ran away or started causing trouble at school so they’d have to move me.”
An undercurrent of pain ran beneath her matter-of-fact tone, and he stayed quiet so she’d keep talking.
“Eventually I figured out that she wasn’t coming back. I stopped running away, stayed in the same school, and graduated.” She shrugged. “It was pretty okay. The Novaks were good people. It’s just that . . . if my grandmother knew I was out there somewhere, knew my full name, I should have been pretty easy to find. So why didn’t she?”
Gabe shook his head slowly. “I don’t know, Kendall. The date on the will was a couple of years before she died, so I don’t think it was a last-minute thing. Maybe she always held out hope you were out there somewhere. I wish I could tell you for sure.”
She nodded, her expression shifting to resignation. She opened her bag of chips and popped one after another into her mouth, crunching thoughtfully.
“Do you . . . do you think it would help to have some company to do the inventory?”
She stopped crunching and looked at him, her expression slightly suspicious. She swallowed hard, grimacing at the scrape of chips down her throat, and then said, “Are you volunteering?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“But you have work to do. You’re the mayor. It’s not like you can just take time off to help me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be very far away. I’ve got my laptop and my cell phone if anyone needs anything, and I can still spend a couple of hours in the office in the morning.” He also had two models to put together, two possible futures he was trying to compare and contrast for the city council, which meant that he would be spending a lot of late nights on his sofa with his dog. But the glimmer of hope he saw in her eyes made it impossible for him to do otherwise. She needed him, and he couldn’t keep himself from stepping up.
“I feel guilty for taking you away from your real duties,” she said, but the reluctance in her voice was waning.
“It’s fine. I promise. Plus, with two of us, it will take half as long. Though I warn you, I don’t know my Chippendale from my Chip and Dale.”
The joke elicited a sudden laugh from her. “One is a piece of furniture and the others are cartoon characters. I’m sure you’ll catch on quickly.” She sobered. “You’re sure? I really don’t want the entire town mad at me because you’re not doing your job.”
“Trust me, no one knows what a mayor actually does anyway. A couple of days out of the office isn’t going to kill me.” He stuck out his hand. “So do we have a deal?”
She hesitated, then placed her hand in his. “Deal.”
They shook and Kendall gave him a smile that warmed him to his very core. Once more, he was struck with the feeling of being a complete fraud, this time not because of his work abilities, but because he was pretending to be her friend.
When in reality, he was interested in so much more.
Chapter Thirteen
KENDALL STRUGGLED to keep her voice even and the topics of conversation light for the next hour, even though the quiver in her stomach made it near impossible. She hadn’t meant to share her history with Gabe, but after he’d told her about his father, she’d thought he might be the only non-foster child she’d ever met who could understand what it felt like to be robbed of your own destiny. It wasn’t fair that he’d been raised with a father only lurking in the shadows when it had been within “Uncle Bob’s” power to step up and be a proper parent. Just like it wasn’t fair that Connie Green knew Kendall was out there somewhere and hadn’t found her. It seemed like they both understood that kind of unfairness followed you into adulthood, no matter how hard you tried to overcome it.
And the resulting connection she felt with him was altogether unsettling. It wasn’t sexual, not exactly, even though she couldn’t deny that she found him attractive. It was just the undeniable urge to scoot in next to him and curl into his warmth. To just . . . be close to someone for a change.
But she’d found that was pretty much impossible with men, who took any kind of physical contact to mean she wanted to sleep with them. When she tried to disabuse them of that notion, they either dumped her or tried to force the issue. It was better to settle on this tentative understanding than to risk a short-lived romance. Right now she needed hi
s help. And his friendship.
Other than Sophie, she didn’t have any friends.
When it finally grew so cold that her butt was going numb on the metal hood of the truck and her fingers were starting to pale, he gathered up their trash and offered her a hand down. The touch of his fingers sent a little tingle up her arm, but he didn’t seem to feel anything of the sort. He just opened the truck door, waited for her to climb in, and then shut it securely behind her. On the way down the mountain, he didn’t talk much, so she sat back and watched the headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the bright silver of the aspen trunks against the dark background of evergreens.
Still, when he stopped in front of the B and B, she half expected him to lean over the console for a kiss. Instead, he sat there with one hand draped loosely over the steering wheel, his blue eyes earnest. “I can go over to the house with you about ten tomorrow. Just tell me if you want to meet there or if I should pick you up somewhere.”
She sat there, slightly discomfited by his behavior. “How will I get ahold of you?”
“Oh.” He pulled out his cell phone. “What’s your number?”
She recited it, and he plugged it into his phone. A moment later, her own phone chirped. “I just texted you. Just let me know in the morning.”
“Okay. I will.” After an awkward hesitation, she climbed out of the truck. “Thanks again. That was nice.”
“It’s my pleasure.” He smiled at her, his eyes never leaving her face, and she shut the door. When she reached the top of the steps, she looked back, and there he was, still watching her. He gave a little wave, and she realized he was waiting for her to get inside.
Well, that was unexpectedly nice. Or maybe, given her experiences with Gabriel Brandt, it shouldn’t be unexpected at all.
It wasn’t that late, but the inside of the house was quiet, so she tiptoed up the stairs to her room, which she unlocked with the same key she’d used for the front door. She was just peeling off her coat when her phone rang. For a second, she thought it might be Gabe, checking on her again, but a quick look at the screen showed Sophie’s face. Her heart lifted as she answered the video call.
“Soph!”
“Kendall, I’m so sorry. What a crazy day!” From the background, she could see that Sophie was in their office, dressed in a suit and silk blouse. “The Thomases have turned out to be incredibly demanding, but they’re willing to spend a fortune on this remodel, so I can’t complain. Guess who’s going to be their beck-and-call girl for the next several months?”
Kendall laughed at the reference to one of their favorite movies. “Some clients are like that, but if they’re happy, I’d say you’re doing the right thing. What else is going on?”
“Well, we have another potential client.” Sophie reached off camera for something and then held up an image on her tablet. “Do you recognize this?”
Kendall gasped. “That’s not . . .”
“The Woolridge House? It is.”
She pressed a hand over her mouth. The Woolridge House was one of the premier examples of Craftsman style in Pasadena, built by an industrialist and privately owned for over a hundred years. Other than the occasional spread in an architectural or historical magazine, the home’s interior had rarely been seen. Considering that only a few of the rooms had ever been photographed, Kendall had long suspected that the inside was due for a full remodel or restoration.
“How did they contact you?” she asked when she finally found her voice.
“By phone. I asked them to send over some photos of the project first so you could see them. I’ve uploaded them already, and I’ll text you the link when we get off the phone.” Sophie’s expression gleamed with excitement. “Check this out.” She began to swipe through the tablet, and Kendall’s eyes widened with each successive photo. The first few looked to have been taken straight out of a magazine spread, but the others . . . Well, she’d been right. Varying shades of decades-old remodels had covered the bedrooms and hallways and back living spaces in terrible garish colors, the unique molding painted in some places and water damaged in others. There was no doubt that this was a huge project.
“What did you tell them?”
“I said that our schedule was fully booked, but I knew that you had a special interest in this house, so I would see if there was any way you could fit it in sometime in the next year.” Sophie’s expression turned uncertain. “That was okay, wasn’t it? I didn’t want to seem too eager. I figured they’d be suspicious if we dropped everything for them.”
“No, no, you did the right thing.” Having an air of exclusivity only added to the cachet of their reputation. And Sophie had also been smart enough to buy her time. “Did they say anything about budget?”
“Sky’s the limit, it seems. They’re after the historical landmark designation.”
Kendall’s heart leapt with excitement. This was the big project they’d been needing. Something as high-profile as the Woolridge House would land them mentions in every historical and architectural magazine there was, not to mention give them amazing fodder for social media while they were doing the remodel, something she couldn’t discount when casting the net for new clients. “Send over the photos. I might need you to do the initial walk-through. Tell them I’m on a special sourcing trip and I happen to have come across some things that will be perfect for that space.”
“I take it the process is going well?” Sophie asked, excitement still lingering in her voice.
“Very well.” Kendall didn’t make the conscious decision to lie, but in the face of Sophie’s news, she didn’t want to spill how difficult today had been for her. Besides, Gabe was going to help, and she was sure his presence would make a difference in how quickly she could move through the house. He would at least be a welcome distraction. “I didn’t get much done today because I had to go buy a heater halfway through, but I think tomorrow will be much better.”
“Excellent.” Sophie’s expression turned mischievous. “I don’t suppose there’s any good . . . scenery . . . up there?”
Kendall smiled. “It’s beautiful. Lots of trees. The sunsets are amazing.”
Sophie rolled her eyes. “Not that kind of scenery.”
“There’s some eye candy for sure. The mayor is kind of hot, and so is the town welcome dude. But they’re just typical bros.” She kept her voice light so Sophie wouldn’t guess what she really thought.
Predictably, her friend’s expression fell. “Man, if you can’t find a good guy in the wilds of Colorado, where can you find one?”
“Don’t know, Soph. Maybe they’re all gone.” She didn’t disabuse her of her perception of Jasper Lake, especially when she didn’t want her to dig any further about Gabe and Luke. “I did, however, meet a very handsome guy today. He’s just a little hairy.” She went on to tell her about Gabe’s Irish mastiff, knowing her dog-loving friend would get fully distracted from the topic at hand.
It worked. After extracting a promise to get a photo of Fitz tomorrow, Sophie said, “I really need to go and get changed. Sean is picking me up in an hour.”
“Have fun, then. Tell Sean I said hi.” Sophie’s boyfriend was a nice guy, but they’d been dating so long at this point, Kendall was beginning to doubt that he’d ever pop the question. And why should he? They were both so busy that they got together for dinner a night or two a week and Sophie slept at his place when she didn’t have an early meeting. It was an arrangement that had to seem perfectly fine to him . . . There wasn’t really any motivation to move to the next step.
“Keep me updated. I’ll talk to you later.” Sophie blew a kiss at the camera and then shut down the video chat, leaving Kendall alone in her quiet rented room.
“Later,” she said softly, then tossed the phone down on her bed. Just when she felt the first tendril of loneliness creep in, her phone beeped with an email message. The photos from Sophie.
She pulled out her laptop, connected to the B and B’s surprisingly strong Wi-Fi, and beg
an to look through the photos Sophie had uploaded to the cloud. The interiors of the Woolridge House were worse than she’d thought, many of the original features removed during questionable updates. It was her favorite kind of project, one that required meticulous research and layers of detail, not to mention hundreds of thousands of dollars, a percentage of which she would claim as her fee. Maybe they didn’t need the money from her houses here after all. If she could land this project, they could potentially get a loan for the purchase of the house, using the commission as a down payment.
Her heart lifted. If she didn’t need to sell, then it simplified things for both her and Gabe.
Which was beginning to matter a lot more to her than she’d expected.
Chapter Fourteen
GABE WOKE UP EARLY the next day with a sense of anticipation. It took him several seconds to remember why—he’d agreed to help Kendall go through her grandmother’s house today—and several more to figure out what had woken him up—Fitz whining and nudging his hand from the side of the bed. He pushed himself to a sitting position and scrubbed a fist across his eyes, then stumbled to the bedroom’s sliding-glass door. “Okay, Fitz. Here you go. Have at it.”
The dog bounded outside to do his business, while Gabe leaned against the cold metal doorframe, letting the bite of morning air chill his skin and bring him to full alertness. A quiver of nerves hovered in his stomach, this time not anticipation but the awareness of all his responsibilities. His to-do list, which had felt so manageable last night, now felt insurmountable. It was a good thing that Fitz’s incongruously tiny bladder had woken him before the first glimmer of light had even touched the horizon, because he was going to need all the time he could get.
Once Fitz came trotting back, no more a fan of the cold than Gabe was this early, he locked the sliding door and proceeded to the kitchen to make a big pot of coffee. He dug two leftover slices of pepperoni pizza from the fridge—remnants of his lunch two days ago—plopped it cold on the plate, and lingered in his bare feet by the coffeepot until it finished brewing. His grandfather would be horrified by the idea of cold pizza for breakfast. Gabe had never understood why pancakes or waffles with enough sugar to be dessert were acceptable ways to start a day, but a slice of pizza that encompassed all the major food groups was not.
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