Once they were done serving, Hattie scampered off to eat with the other children. She sat next to a girl with carrot-red hair and freckles. They began chatting almost immediately, though Kenzi was sure this was their first meeting. Kids were great that way—everyone was a friend until proven different. At what point did it switch for adults, where everyone was suspect until proven a friend? She accepted an adult’s serving from a teenager in a black shirt with a birthday cake on the front and Jennie’s logo on the back.
Just as she placed the spoon in her mouth, Nash stormed into the garden, looking like King Kong with his arms swinging at his sides and his muscles showing through his shirt. He’d taken off his jacket, loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves. Yikes! He was a blessing and temptation all rolled up into one. His fire-filled eyes scanned the gathering like lasers. She actually felt them land on her, pinning her in place as he made his way over. The hair on her arms stood at attention and her belly quivered in all the best ways.
“You ran out on the single most important meeting in the history of your company for a children’s party?!” Nash’s face turned red.
Kenzi bounced her hand in a hushing motion. She looked around to see who had heard his outburst. Myrtle was at the buffet table, keeping her head down. Kenzi grabbed Nash’s wrist and hauled him between the buffet table and the house, where they were partially shielded by the five-tiered cake—now four tiers—from curious eyes and eager ears. Servers went in and out of the open French doors, not paying them a bit of attention. “Keep your voice down.”
“Why? So I don’t disturb the party? Seriously, Kenzi, I’m beginning to doubt how much you want to be CEO.”
Kenzi thrust her ring in his face. “Is this not enough proof for you?”
He took her hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle considering the power radiating off his body. “That was one day—one decision. Being CEO is everyday. It’s showing up to things even when there’s a party to go to.”
Kenzi curled her fingers around his. The movement was almost an instinct, a need to hold on to him while they pounded this out. Nash’s eyes darted to their hands and then back to her face. The heat behind his gaze changed slightly, taking Kenzi off guard.
Her mouth went dry. “I will always put Hattie first.”
“I get that. But this is just a party.”
“It’s not, though. Not when her mom has drunk herself incapable of being in front of guests. Myrtle had to lock her in her rooms.”
Nash’s jaw went slack. “I—I didn’t know. But still … You could have sent Raquel.”
Kenzi removed her hand from his grasp. Revealing family secrets went against her upbringing, and showing any type of weakness in front of Nash made her feel vulnerable. Therefore, what she was about to say came as easily as squeezing rocks through a pastry bag. “Raquel has been dealing with this on her own for a while now. It was my turn to take a shift, and honestly, it needed to be me. Raquel is great for girls’ days and painting nails, but she doesn’t handle Hattie’s moods well. And, well, Hattie is a three-year-old—there are lots of moods.”
Nash ran his hand through his hair.
“How did the meeting go?” Talk about feeling vulnerable. She’d made a crack decision to send Nash in instead of rescheduling, and she prayed it had paid off.
He folded his arms, making his muscles strain against the shirt. That poor, poor shirt. Someone should take it out of its misery and …
She snapped her attention back to his cocked head. “I’m sorry, what?”
He licked his bottom lip, studying her. “I said, I killed it.”
It was her turn to drop her jaw. “You did not.”
“I totally did.” He popped his collar.
She laughed, throwing her arms around his neck. He lifted her up and hugged her right back. Thoughts of that morning, when they were outside the tasting room, getting a little taste of each other, came to mind. Her body flushed and she followed Hattie’s example and wiggled out of his arms. “So we’re good?”
His shoulders came down. “No one has committed to voting one way or the other.” He glanced at his reflection in the glass and adjusted his collar so it was once again folded over. “And we need to have a serious talk about your sister.”
“Which one?” She blew her hair off her face as she got on her tiptoes to look over the cake. “I honestly can’t imagine what set Lunette off. It doesn’t make sense that she would make it through the funeral only to fall apart today.”
She chewed her lip as she thought. Yeah, they were all under pressure and grieving and doing their best to move forward. She’d be lying if she said there were times throughout the day that she’d wanted to forward an email on to Dad or send him a text, only to realize she wouldn’t get a response. Those moments were hard because they reminded her that life was chugging forward without his loud and proud personality.
“Does the staff know?” He motioned to Myrtle, indicating she should ask about her sister’s odd behavior.
“I haven’t had a moment to ask her.” She took a deep breath and a step in that direction.
“Well, ’ello, luv.”
Kenzi’s shoulders climbed all the way up to her hairline. She slowly pivoted to the left, silently begging the Lord to make the words and the man attached to them a figment of her imagination. Her prayer went unanswered, and she bit back the string of curse words she’d learned on the farm. “What are you doing here, Clyde?”
“You don’t think I’d miss my daughter’s birthday party, do you?” He leaned against the buffet table and stuffed his hands in his pockets as if he were some model waiting for his close-up.
He wished. Clyde might have what it took to stand in the House of Lords and give an oration that no one would remember, but he certainly did not have the makings of a man who would grace the pages of a calendar.
