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Easy Reunion

Page 8

by Jerald, Tracey


  As I stand, my phone clatters to my desk, forgotten. Snatching up my laptop, I motion him over to the small table in my office. “They’re looking for additional permissions in these territories where they feel Bayou doesn’t have a stronger presence.”

  “Bullshit,” he says succinctly.

  I couldn’t agree more.

  * * *

  It takes us up to the last minute to ferret out someone at Larruscain was trying to nickel-and-dime the contract because they didn’t want the appearance that Bayou was taking them over. “If they want to see a takeover, then we’ll put that on the agenda next,” Eli grumbles.

  “I just want to see the inside of my eyelids,” I moan. I haven’t seen my house, my bed, or taken a call not related to this contract in the last seventy-two hours. Even Lisa, who usually can get through in a heartbeat, has been relegated to dealing with my assistant.

  He laughs before answering his cell. “Hey, bebe. No, I did not forget you and Simon were leaving for England tomorrow.” There’s a brief pause. “All right. I’ll stop at your place and then the store on my way home.” Hanging up, he drags himself to his feet. At one time, Eli and I used to practically live in these offices hammering out deals. Those days have long passed, and we look like we’ve been through a shipwreck. “Come on. I’ve arranged for a car, but I have to stop by Charly’s on the way home.”

  “Can sleep here,” I mutter into my arms. This is quite possibly the most truthful statement I’ve ever uttered. I’m already in that Zen-like state right before the drool starts trickling.

  “You look like shit and need a real bed,” he tells me bluntly.

  “Asshole.” I shove myself to my feet. “I don’t smell.”

  “Yet. You forgot to add ‘yet’ to the end of that for it to be an accurate statement.”

  Flipping him the bird, I quickly slip my laptop and a few files into my briefcase. I grab my suit coat and frown down at it. “Didn’t I wear this yesterday?”

  Eli lets out a deep laugh. “You’ve been wearing that suit for three days. This is why I don’t trust you behind the wheel of a car.”

  Three days? “Holy shit? Three days?” Frantically, I shove my hand into my suit pocket and scroll through the multitude of text messages I’ve received. Mom, Dad—letting me know he’s all right—Lisa, varying people from the office.

  Not a single word from Kelsey.

  “I’m fucked,” I moan.

  Peering over my shoulder, nosy bastard Eli remarks, “Missing a message?”

  I snarl, “Don’t you have enough brothers and sisters’ lives to meddle in?”

  He shrugs. “They keep telling me to stay out of their business.”

  “So, you want to get your kicks off of mine?” Leaving my office, I mutter, “I don’t want to see Chinese takeout for at least a week. I also need to find a gym.”

  “If we don’t say it often enough, Ry, we appreciate what you do,” Eli tells me somberly as we make our way to the elevator. A few people walk by and acknowledge us with nods, but even I notice they keep their distance. Do we really smell that bad? I’m too tired to care.

  Slumping against the wall, I offer up a weary smile. “How about giving me some advice, then?”

  He mirrors my pose. “Like what?”

  “How do I get back into the good graces of a woman I was supposed to contact four days ago, who I was already on shaky ground with?”

  An odd look crosses Eli’s face.

  “Yeah, not offering me any reassurance, buddy.” I punch the button to call the elevator.

  “It’s not that. It’s just I never thought I’d see you twisted up so much about a woman.”

  “Since I got home from the reunion, I realized I may have been twisted up about her for fifteen years.” I’m so exhausted by the last few days I don’t realize what I’m saying.

  Eli ushers us both into the waiting elevator. “Well, women are all different. What works for Kate, Charly, Van, and Gabby”—he names his wife and sisters—“isn’t going to work for your Kelsey.” At my raised brow, he smoothly continues. “I presume that’s who we’re talking about, of course.”

  I don’t say a word to him for the entire ride down to the lobby.

  The doors to the elevator open, and I shuffle out ahead of his laughter. “Look, come inside while I go see Charly. Then you can ask her for her opinion. She sure isn’t going to sugarcoat it for you,” I can tell he’s openly laughing at me right now, but in my exhaustion, the idea holds merit.

  Swiveling my head toward his, I nod eagerly. “That’s a good idea. Thanks, man.”

  Both of us descend the steps into the waiting car. We make a quick stop where Eli runs up and grabs a package from a tall, dark-haired man. He’s soon back in the car, and before I know it, the driver is pulling up to Head Over Heels. “Give me a few minutes to see what Charly wants and to make sure you’re not going to offend anyone. I’ll text you.”

  I don’t even have the energy to flick him off again as he slides out of the car. I close my eyes and rest my head back against the seat.

  It could be five minutes or five hours later when my phone pings with a text. Get in here. Stat! Shit! I hop out of the back and scroll through my phone to see if I missed any calls. No. I’m wondering why Eli’s message is holding such urgency. I catch a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the window and wince. No wonder Eli was so adamant about me not driving. I look like I’ve been run over. Wearily, I hope whatever advice Charly gives me doesn’t involve a long lecture as I’m not sure I can stay awake for it.

  Before I cross over the threshold, I pause to admire the vibrant royal blue and white shoe display in the front window. It gives me the energy boost I need to call out, “Charly, tell me what a man needs to do when he has to grovel on his knees. Badly.”

  I never expect to hear a familiar voice acidly answer back, “Funny you should mention that. Charly and I were discussing the kind of guy who would take a woman’s number and not call.”

  I blink my eyes, rapidly certain in my exhaustion I must be imagining an infuriated Kelsey standing there before me. But no, she’s magnificent in her fury.

  “Kelsey,” I breathe out. It’s heavenly to say her name even if there’s an odd fuzziness on my tongue that kind of tastes like leftover Chinese food.

  Chapter 13

  Kelsey

  Artfully arranged, the shoes in the window display almost appear to be a summer sky enticing customers to pop in and sit beneath them for a spell. It’s like those childish days when you’d lie down and want to reach up to pluck a dream out of the sky. Only instead of clouds, the dreams are tangible. You can put them on your feet, and magically all your woes will go away.

  My first impression of Head Over Heels is inspiring, to say the least. I stand in the middle of the store, my arms slightly extended from my side, and turn around slightly.

  “Sugar, you look like you just found out Santa Claus was real,” a honeyed voice says from behind me.

  “He is,” I whisper. “And it’s the Tooth Fairy who bestows the secret elixir on shoe designers.” Turning to meet an amused pair of whiskey-colored eyes, I smile broadly. “And the Easter Bunny delivers the goodness to store owners.”

  Dark hair cascades down her shoulders as she laughs. “Welcome to Head Over Heels. I’m Charly.”

  Holding out my hand, I say sincerely, “And I’m screwed.”

  Hers tightens over mine as she shakes her head. “Darlin’, what you’re doin’ is makin’ my day.”

  “No, really,” I assure her earnestly. “I’m supposed to be buying a home. I’ve been so good about my shoe habit. But there are days when you just need a pick-me-up.” Spinning around again, I blink. “But how am I supposed to choose just one?”

  “Why don’t you sit a spell, let me get you a glass of wine, and then you can decide?” Charly suggests. “White or red?”

  “White.” The alcohol will help reduce my inhibitions just enough so I’ll be even more agreeable. Like
that’s going to be a problem. I rub the bottom of the sole of a pair of white sandals I have to try on.

  It’s becoming more dire by the moment.

  “Give me just a second.” Charly pats my hand before walking toward the back.

  Cocking my head to the side, I ask sincerely, “Are you taking applications for part-time best friends? Because if you are, I’d like to apply.” Charly’s laughter reaches me from where I’m sitting.

  A few moments later, she comes back with a glass. Handing it to me, she gestures to a chair and sits opposite me. “Now, I’ve learned over the years there’s not much shoes won’t take your mind off of. So tell me what size you are and which ones you’d like to start with.”

  “An eight and yes,” I tell her dreamily.

  Chuckling, Charly stands. “Since we’re going to be here for a while, why don’t you tell me your name.”

  Out of habit more than anything, my pen name flows from my lips. “Kee. Kee Long.”

  I didn’t expect the reaction it gets me.

  Charly’s eyes flare wildly. “Seriously? The writer of those wonderful books?” I nod, although Charly’s wonderful compliment is entirely subjective. “Oh my, if Gabby were here, she’d be singing your praises. I swear she and Rhys could never get Sam to read a darn thing until someone gave him one of your books. Now, it’s a fight between us to see who can get to the bookstore the fastest.”

  A warmth steals through me at Charly’s kind words. “Thank you so much,” I say demurely.

  “Drat, would it be terribly rude to ask you to sign one?” When I shake my head no, she beams. Pulling out her phone, she punches in a number. “Eli! You have to come and see me for sure now. No, not just because Simon and I are leaving tomorrow—or did you forget?” She pauses. “Listen, do me a favor? Swing by my place and ask Simon to give you the gift I just bought for Sam.” She sighs exasperatedly. “Yes, he’ll know what it is. All right, bebe. See you soon.” Disconnecting, she returns her focus to me. “Now, tell me about this home you want to buy? Does it have room for all your fabulous shoes?”

  “Not yet, but now I’m determined it will,” I toast her.

  “Atta girl. Now let’s get started.” Charly rubs her hands together gleefully. “These white ones?”

  My anticipation rises as I nod. “And the royal blue ones.” I point to the heels that captured my attention from the street.

  Charly’s smile widens. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

  And for the next while, we do.

  * * *

  “I think you found your designer, darlin’,” Charly drawls as she adds another box of carefully wrapped shoes to my pile.

  “I mean, think about it, shoes are better than men. You can mix and match, have multiples, and they won’t let you down unless you do something stupid.” I whirl on the four-and-a-half-inch royal blue stilettos that cradle my feet. “Tell me, after everything I shared, would you be willing to give this guy a chance?”

  “Probably not,” she admits. “But Kee, the thing is, you have to be willing to bend to let someone in at some point.”

  I take in her words, knowing I’ll process them over and over. In the short amount of time we’ve spent together, Charly has shown herself to be a sharp-witted, outgoing, and generous woman. I wish this were something I could figure out. My eyes drifting closed, I quickly click my heels together slowly. Once, twice, a third time.

  “Did you just wish yourself home?” Her laughter is like a boomerang around the store.

  With a quick smirk to hide my embarrassment over being caught making a wish, I shake my head. “That was a wish for the fall line to come out sooner rather than later.”

  Our giggles muffle the bell over the store. But nothing hides the dark whiskey voice that says, “You’re lucky I love you, chère. We’ve been awake for three days straight trying to fix the Larruscain deal.” Both of us turn, and I see male perfection sauntering toward us holding a bag out to Charlie. “Simon said this was the gift.”

  “It is. Kee, this is my brother, Eli. Eli, this is Kee Long. She’s the author Sam’s gone wild about, sugar. This is going to make me his favorite aunt.”

  “For about a minute, Charly,” he retorts. Even so, Eli steps forward and reaches for my hand, narrowing sharp eyes at me. “A pleasure to meet you. Are you from New Orleans?” But the way he drawls it, it comes out as “A plea-suh to meet you. Are you from N’ Awlins?” sending divine chills up my spine.

  I shake his hand back firmly. “Thank you. I’ve only recently moved here. It’s been lovely getting acquainted with your city.”

  His eyes drift over to the box of shoes Charly has lined up for me before he bursts out in laughter. “And apparently, my sister.” Holding out the package to Charly, he leans against the counter.

  “Do either of you have a pen?” Eli reaches into his pocket, pulling one out, his eyes still studying me. “Is Sam a ‘Samantha’ or a ‘Samuel’?”

  Charly fist pumps the air, confusing me as Eli’s mask of composure drops into one of amusement. “It’s Samuel, but no one has ever asked. Because our family is in the papers more often than not…”

  “Especially with who Sam’s dad is,” Eli interjects.

  “That too,” Charly agrees. “We just automatically assume people know all about us.”

  “Oh.” I blank for a moment. “Are you all famous or something?”

  Eli’s smile widens. For just a moment, I’m mildly envious of the woman who slid the thick band on the third finger of his left hand. A frown crosses his expression. “If you’ll excuse me.” He steps away to send a text.

  Moving over to the counter, I run my hand lovingly over the cover to Forgotten, the latest hardback in my series. The cover designer went all out with the tones of blues, appealing to both boys and girls. Flipping quickly to the signature page, I think for a minute before I lower the pen to the paper and scrawl,

  Samuel,

  Your path isn’t defined by one moment in time, but a series of them, interwoven threads to form the blanket of your life. Yours is firmly based on family. Wrap them close. Having just met them, I know they will guide you true.

  Cherish the warmth and love they give you.

  XOXO,

  Kee Long.

  Blowing lightly on the ink, I find Charly and Eli close together. Charly breaks the silence between us. “He will cherish that, Kee.”

  “Do you want to see it?” I offer. But Charly shakes her head.

  “If Sam is willing to share, he will. However, I’m not opposed to getting a picture to send around our family chat. He’ll go nuts when his mama shows him. That is, if you don’t mind?”

  I shake my head. “After what you did for me all day? Of course not.”

  “What did she do?” Eli asks curiously.

  “Brighten my day, cheer me up about a guy, relieve me of the down payment of my mortgage, you know. Nothing major.” We all share a laugh as Charly retrieves her phone before handing it to her brother.

  “Why don’t you stand by Charly’s display,” Eli suggests. “Then, I can get the shop logo in the back.”

  We move over. Charly drapes her arm around my shoulders, and I wrap mine around her waist. “So, what kind of man got you down?” Eli says as he fiddles with her phone.

  “Oh, just the kind who takes her number, promises to call, and then ghosts her.” Charly’s outrage on my behalf feels good.

  I nod even though the ache inside over Ry’s actions haven’t abated even with my new friend’s defense or the six new pairs of shoes I’m adding to my collection. “Sad, but true.”

  “Do you think he might have had a good reason?” Eli holds up the camera. “Smile pretty, ladies.”

  We both beam at him. “Thank you so much for doing this, Kee. It’s going to make Sam’s year,” Charly tells me.

  I give Charly a quick hug. “It was nothing. Coming in here was one of the best decisions I ever made,” I tell her honestly. “You’re a treasure.”

&n
bsp; There’s a choked sound from across the room. “I don’t believe those are the words I used when I described her growing up,” Eli mutters. Charly sticks her tongue out at him just as the door opens and a familiar voice calls out, “Charly, tell me what a man needs to do when he has to grovel on his knees. Badly.”

  And there’s Ry, looking like he’s worn the same suit for a week straight. “Ry, are you taking up Eli’s old habit of sleeping at the office now?” Charly teases. Her smile is wide and genuine. “I can’t imagine you hurting’ a fly, darlin’.”

  My eyes flit back and forth between all of them, but they narrow on Eli, who gives a small shrug. My voice sounds like battery acid when I find it though. “Funny you should mention that very thing. Charly and I were discussing the kind of guy who would take a woman’s number and not call.”

  His head swivels my way, and I get a good look at his face. “Oh, my God, Ry! Did something happen? Is your dad okay?” Forgetting how furious and hurt I am, I hurry forward and lay my hand on his arm. He looks awful. His eyes are rimmed with red. His face is wearing a rough stubble, and I wrinkle my nose. He could use some quality time with a shower.

  “Kelsey.” He breathes out my name, and for the first time since we saw each other in the bar at the Westin, I kind of wish he didn’t. I can smell the Chinese food he ate—quite possibly days ago—on his breath.

  I demand, “I’m not this bad about taking care of myself when I’m in the middle of a book. What the hell happened? Did you get mugged?” Maybe that would account for the stench fouling up Charly’s magnificent store.

  “Told you that you smelled a little ripe in the office, Perrault,” Eli offers.

  I whirl on him like a tigress with fresh meat. “You did this to him?”

  “Technically, a major problem that would have left people out of jobs did,” he tells me gently. My mouth falls open. Eli continues. “However, Ry once again figured it out. If he shows his face at Bayou Enterprises in the next forty-eight hours, he’s fired.”

 

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