Looking Real Good

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Looking Real Good Page 18

by C. Morgan


  A short while later, we were let into our more-than-just-a-cabin cabin. The attendant, a skinny wisp of a young man with reddish hair and cheeks that wouldn’t likely see any beard growth for years to come, paced to the fireplace and offered to get it burning for us. Again, we agreed, and while he worked on the fire, Lukas and I explored our little homestead.

  It was all one big room with cedar floors and walls. There was no overhead lighting, only sconces set in the walls, and the floors were covered in mismatching rugs that gave the place a homey, inviting, comfortable feel. The bed was a four-poster king. Red velvet drapes hung from each corner, and the bed reminded me of something royalty might sleep in.

  The fire crackled and snapped as the attendant got it lit. When he was done, he straightened, wiped his hands on his pants, and asked if we needed anything else.

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “Wine,” Lukas said.

  The attendant nodded. “There is a room-service menu in the drawer of the nightstand. The kitchens and bar are open all night. Feel free to look through it and call to place an order. It usually takes about twenty to thirty minutes.”

  “Perfect,” Lukas said.

  The young man left and I warmed myself in front of the fire. “This isn’t what I expected.”

  “No?” Lukas shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the edge of the bed. “What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know. A posh hotel somewhere. Something fancy and glamorous, like the Monroe.”

  “I wanted to go somewhere nobody would stumble upon us.”

  I turned my back to the fire. “Mission accomplished. It’s beautiful here. And so quiet.”

  “It is quiet, isn’t it?”

  There was no hum or roar of traffic outside our windows. Instead, there was the gentle rustle and scratch of tree branches scraping across the roof of the cabin. There was the steady crackle of the fire and, in the distance, the hushed roll of waves breaking against the bluff.

  Lukas fetched the room-service menu from the nightstand drawer and dropped into one of the two chairs placed in front of the fireplace. Between them was a small table with nothing on it. I took the opposite chair and ran my hands over the armrests. The fabric was a deep burgundy velvet and it felt nice under my palms.

  “What should we order?” Lukas mused, his eyes scanning the page.

  “You pick.”

  He didn’t hesitate. Within minutes, he’d placed an order to room service. While we waited, I stared into the fire and thought about his sister. What would Lisa think of us running away to steal some alone time together?

  “Don’t over think this,” Lukas said, resting his head back against his chair. “We’re here and we’re going to enjoy ourselves, right?”

  I nodded. “Right.”

  We chatted aimlessly about things that didn’t matter until room service arrived. Lukas popped the bottle of red, and the first sip warmed my belly. The second and third were even more delicious, and soon, I was one glass of wine in with no food in my belly, so I dove into the crackers, jelly, pesto, and baked brie appetizer.

  Lukas settled back in his chair with his wine in one hand. “You know, had you told me four weeks ago that I’d be dressing up as a clown for a charity, I’d have laughed in your face.”

  “I wouldn’t have tried such a thing.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I’m glad I did it. I’m glad I’ve done all of this.”

  His words warmed my insides better than the wine. “Me too.”

  “I never would have expected these feelings to emerge from our working together, Kayla. These weeks have been…” He paused, the glint of a smile reflecting in his eyes as he gazed into the fire. “They’ve been better than most of the ones that came before.”

  At first, I thought he was talking about his feelings about me, and I almost told him I felt the same way, but he kept talking. The words poured out of him unabashed and I didn’t dare open my mouth for fear of him never being so open with me again.

  “I swore I’d never go back to that state, you know,” he said, eyes still glued to the fire. “To being poor. I hoarded every dime I made, pinched every penny, and hustled to figure out how to collect the most interest. I figured if I could figure a way out of poverty, anyone else could too. I let that cloud my judgment. I fell so out of touch with reality, with who I was before the suits and the flashy cars.” His expression darkened and he sipped his wine. “Now I realize the deck is stacked against most people. The wealthy have all the advantages, including their privilege and naivety. I used to be one of those assholes. Selfish. Ignorant. Blind. Whether it was on purpose or by default of accumulating wealth, I still don’t know.”

  “I don’t think you were ignorant, Lukas.”

  His gaze slid to me. “I was. It’s okay. I accept it. I need to be better. To do better. You make that easy for me, Kayla. You’ve changed the game for me. Without you, I never would have realized that—” He broke off with a soft chuckle and shook his head.

  “What?” I pleaded, reaching for him. “Tell me.”

  “You helped me realize that being poor isn’t the worst thing in the world. Being lonely? Well, that might just be worse.”

  He was right. Being lonely was worse. I would know. For all the work I did and all the people I helped day in and day out, I still went home to an empty apartment.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  I swallowed the tight lump building in my throat and willed myself to keep it together. “You have nothing to thank me for.”

  He ignored me. “Thank you for helping me realize what a lonely life I was leading. Thank you for showing me the wall I’d put up and teaching me how to take it down.”

  His words warmed me better than the fire ever could. I extracted myself from my chair and settled into his lap. Lukas wrapped his arms around me and I laid my cheek on his chest. He ran his fingers through my hair.

  Finally, I was getting close to him. Finally, he was letting me in.

  For the first time since meeting with Lukas in his conference room all those weeks ago, I felt like I was seeing the real him. Truthfully, he hadn’t changed all that much from when he was a boy and we used to chase each other down the block. He was still introspective, smart, and caring. He was also protective and loving, and for him, being vulnerable wasn’t easy.

  I wasn’t sure where things were going between us, but I knew in my heart that I loved this complicated man. I loved him for everything he was and everything he was not. There was no way to know if that would be enough. Maybe we would get lucky and maybe this would work. If not? Well, maybe he’d forever be the man I carried a torch for.

  There were still things stacked up against us. But at least for tonight, I could sleep in his arms and pretend that he loved me too.

  Chapter 29

  Lukas

  It was impossible to pack a lifetime’s worth of romance into a single weekend, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try.

  Kayla and I had a day and a half to soak up as much time together as we could on this remote little island. I wanted to give her a glimpse of what life would be like if she decided to share hers with me.

  We started with an early morning storm and whale-watching boat tour on the Sound. And by early, I meant early. We were out of the cabin by five in the morning after having woken up at four to indulge in some passionate, sweaty, desperate lovemaking that left a pit of desire in my gut all day long.

  The excursion out on the ocean was full of rain, cold, and glorious excitement as we saw humpback whales and orcas. Kayla had shrieked with giddy excitement when the first orca said hello by bursting into the air and plunging back into the water with a splash. He had only been the first, of course. After him came a chorus of other orcas in the pod, all of them sailing high into the air before plunging back down into the cold waters of their ocean home.

  The highlight was easily how cute Kayla had looked all bundled up for the cold under her rain poncho. I’d
snapped a couple of pictures without her looking, one of which was a shot of her when she saw one of the first whales jump. Her eyes were bright with joy and excitement, her hand outstretched, finger pointing as if I couldn’t see the giant black whale leaping out of the water and defying gravity, her mouth open wide in a cry of glee. Raindrops clung to her cold-bitten cheeks where her hair was plastered to her skin. She’d never looked more beautiful to me.

  After watching the whales, I decided to pamper her and warm her up with a trip to the lodge spa. I booked us an entire afternoon worth of treatments, starting with a dip in a hot mud bath together to warm up. Kayla had squealed and been repulsed by the sucking texture of the mud as we sank up to our chins in it, but as she experienced the weightlessness of it, she relaxed.

  After the mud bath, we showered and went for full-body massages. We had facials done, including face massages, and I made sure Kayla was pampered with a matching manicure and pedicure. She chose dark red and gold for the autumn season after much deliberation. She told me as we left the spa that she’d never had a professional manicure before, or a massage for that matter.

  Yet again, I was reminded of the differences between having it all and having what you needed. I had more than I needed and I hadn’t been happy until Kayla came around.

  Kayla had only what she needed, and from where I was standing, she was happy. Hell, she’d always been happy. She was the smilingest kid on the block back in the day and she was still the person to turn to if your day needed brightening.

  Our last stop that late afternoon was to a winery on the island, where Kayla and I both indulged in a little too much wine. We were the obnoxious couple in the group who slurped every wine we tasted and descended into fits of giggles at the back of the group while the wine connoisseur bored everyone with details about acidity, sugar levels, and body. Kayla and I retained no information from the tour. Instead, we retained plenty of wine that made our heads fuzzy and our fingertips tingly as we rode back to our cabin, half slumped against each other, exhausted from our day of activities.

  Back at our cabin, I stoked a fire while Kayla pitched face first onto the bed.

  I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Tired?”

  She nodded weakly and didn’t bother opening her eyes. “Exhausted. Who knew being pampered and drinking wine could make you feel like you’d just run a marathon?”

  I chuckled as an ember popped. I poked at the logs until the tinder underneath caught. “Have a nap. We don’t have anything on the agenda for the rest of the evening besides spending time together. And dinner later.”

  “Can we eat here?” she asked softly. “I don’t think I have it in me to go to the dining room in the lodge.”

  “Room service, it is.”

  “I want chicken strips.”

  I laughed. “Chicken strips? What are you, twelve?”

  “Don’t judge. Chicken strips are delicious. With honey mustard and fries? I can taste it now. Lightly breaded. Perfectly seasoned.”

  “All right, all right. I’ll make sure you get chicken strips.”

  Kayla smiled and snuggled deeper into the bedding. “Thank you.”

  I straightened as the fire began to burn in earnest, and held my hands out to the flames. “I had fun today.”

  Kayla didn’t answer.

  I smiled. Sleep had taken her quickly. She wasn’t lying. She was exhausted. We’d had an early start, after all, and gone to bed after midnight. A few hours of sleep weren’t enough, especially for a woman who I doubted slept more than five hours a night anyway, based on how much she got done at Good Fellow’s on her own.

  I settled into one of the burgundy velvet chairs in front of the fire and pulled my phone out of my pocket. I had one interview remaining with Rebecca Mills and it was on the books for today. She was supposed to meet me at a coffee bar this evening around six o’clock, but obviously, that wasn’t going to happen. So I decided to take matters into my own hands and give her a call.

  I’d never hear the end of it from my sister if I missed the interview, and I didn’t want to leave Rebecca hanging. That wasn’t the guy I was. Not anymore.

  Rebecca answered on the third ring. “Mr. Holt, nice to hear from you. Are we still on for our interview this evening? I was about to leave my office and head to the shop.”

  “Actually, I was hoping we could do the interview over the phone. I won’t be able to make it into the city tonight. Something personal came up but I didn’t want to miss our chance to wrap this up.”

  “Oh, sure,” Rebecca said. I thought I detected a hint of disappointment in her voice. She banished it by clearing her throat. “Hold on. Let me put you on speaker so I can record you.”

  I waited and fidgeted with the stitching in the armrest of the chair.

  “Okay,” Rebecca said, her voice professional and collected. “Are you ready?”

  “Let’s do this.”

  “Let’s start with the haunted house charity event. I went looking for you to catch an interview but you weren’t there.”

  “I left early,” I explained. “I was in one of the rooms but got a little too into the whole thing. I scared some poor girl senseless and had to escort her out. Then I got it in my head that it would be fun to drive down to my sister’s house in my costume and scare her senseless. I used to pull a lot of pranks on her when we were kids, but you know how it is. You grow up, you forget that part of yourself, and your sibling relationships become adult relationships. There’s less room for messing around and fun.”

  “But not that night?”

  “Not that night.” I chuckled.

  “Did you scare her successfully?”

  “Maybe a little too successfully.”

  Rebecca laughed. “Let’s go back to the haunted house. Did you see any irony in the approach of using a haunted house tour to raise money for people who don’t have houses of their own?”

  I considered the question before answering. She was trying to trip me up like any good reporter would do. “I don’t think it’s about that. It was about connecting with the community, particularly the young people. The whole idea was to encourage neighbors to help neighbors and to be creative about it. I think that’s the trick. There has to be an element of fun to keep people coming back.”

  “And that’s what the night was for you? Fun?”

  “Yes,” I said honestly. “And it might sound rich coming from a guy like me. But we don’t have to label the right and wrong ways to help people. We’re allowed to laugh and enjoy ourselves for a good cause. There’s a time for fun and a time for seriousness. So long as you know when to make the distinction, you’re in the clear.”

  “This all sounds very different from the man I first spoke to a month ago.”

  “I am different,” I said. “Everything I’ve learned, I owe to Kayla, the director of Good Fellow’s. She showed me how to be better, not perfect, and that it was enough so long as I tried. I never expected to enjoy the process so much. To be honest—and I know this might piss readers off—I wasn’t the guy at the beginning of this journey I wanted Seattle to see me as. I was self-focused. I was motivated by material things. But after Kayla and her organization? Well, let’s just say I’m trying to lay a new foundation for myself and start fresh.”

  Rebecca was quiet for a minute. “What’s the next step?”

  “I’m not really sure. I’ll be donating two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to Good Fellow’s to help the construction of a new shelter. After that? We’ll see where I’m pulled.”

  “Can I ask you one last question?”

  “Of course,” I said, pausing to glance at Kayla, who still slept soundly on the bed.

  “What is something you’ve learned on your journey into philanthropy that you want to share with readers?”

  A good question. A very good question. I gave it a moment to think it over. I didn’t want to give her an impulsive answer. I wanted to give her the right answer—my answer. Finally, it came to me. “I’ve reali
zed that nothing happens in a vacuum.”

  “Can you elaborate?”

  “I’m not a success because I built everything by myself. I used to believe that. I believed it so strongly that I didn’t think anyone could bring value to my life that I couldn’t provide myself. But now? I’ve learned that I’ve been successful in my life because I’ve had people around me to support me. Those people mean more to me than my wealth or my stability. It’s important for me that I start supporting others as well. It’s my turn to give back. It’s been my turn for a long time and I’ve turned a blind eye. I know I have a lot to make up for and I’m ready to do that. The connections I’ve made with strangers who I otherwise never would have had a chance to meet have been life changing. I encourage anyone in a position to give to do just that. Give your time, your money, your hand. You have no idea how so little can go so far.”

  “Spoken like a true philanthropist.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far.” I chuckled. “Everything I’ve learned has been because of Kayla. She’s the real superstar here. She’s the one who’s been giving anything and everything for years. She doesn’t have interviews or reporters to impress. She doesn’t have readers who will open to her story in a magazine or an online article and see all the work she’s done. She does it thanklessly. Selflessly. And I want to be more like her. I think we could all stand to be a little more like her.”

  “So this Kayla,” Rebecca said slowly. “You two have spent a lot of time together?”

  “Enough for me to know I’ve met an angel on earth.”

  “It sounds to me like there might be more than just a friendship between you two.”

  I laughed. “Always the reporter, huh, Rebecca?”

  “Always the bachelor, huh, Lukas?”

  I chuckled but didn’t answer.

  “It’s been good talking to you,” Rebecca said. “We’ll be in touch soon. Say hello to your sister for me.”

  We ended the call and I left my spot in the chair to join Kayla on the bed. She didn’t move as the mattress groaned under my knees. I settled down beside her, wrapping her up in my arms and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

 

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