Chapter Thirty-Four
Kenzi stormed the BMB offices like an Army battalion. As soon as the elevator doors opened she marched past Trish at the receptionist desk.
“Can I help you?” called the tiny redhead.
“No thank you; I know the way.”
Trish seized the receiver and pressed a button. “Security …”
The rest of her conversation faded as Kenzi stomped the carpet in the hallway as flat as possible. She passed Harrison’s office and slipped his nameplate off the door, tossing it over her shoulder. Traitor.
Aunt Pamela’s door was open. Kenzi didn’t bother to knock, but she did knock over the chair in front of the desk. Aunt Pamela raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Kensington, darling, it’s good to see you.”
“Cut the crap, Aunt Pamela. I know you set me up.”
Pamela stared pointedly at the chair.
A younger, less angry Kenzi may have picked up the chair, penitent and eager to please, but grown-up Kenzi wasn’t feeling repentant. She’d been played. “Why, Auntie dear? Why would you play with your family like chess pieces? I’m not a pawn to be pushed around the table and sacrificed for the queen.” She pounded her chest as her voice rose in pitch. “I have a heart.”
Pamela rushed to her side and clutched Kenzi to her bosom. “Honey. Oh, honey. It was your heart I was looking out for.”
“Well, you did a horrible job, because it’s crushed.”
Pamela handed her a perfectly square box of tissues. She whipped two out of the top and blew her nose. Two more took care of the tears on her cheeks. She threw them on the floor next to the chair. Pamela could clean up the mess.
Once her initial outburst settled, Pamela tugged her around the desk and settled Kenzi into her own chair. Kenzi’s memory betrayed her, summoning the peaceful image of sitting in this same office as a child and pretending she was the boss. Aunt Pamela had given her a pad of paper and a pen and told her to write down all the things she had to do that day. A daily to-do list was a habit for success, she’d said. That one moment spurred a love of to-do lists that took Kenzi through high school with straight As, college with the same. She had a notepad on her desk back at the barn awaiting her. Except those to-dos were no longer her responsibility. Of all the questions she had for her aunt, there was one that surpassed all others.
“Why Nash Westport? When I came to you, why did you think of Nash?”
Pamela leaned against the desk and crossed one ankle over the other. “Because he’s the man you needed.”
Kenzi dropped her eyes. “He stole the company right out from under me, Aunt Pamela. I didn’t need that.”
Pamela’s lips curved with bemusement. “I didn’t pick him for the company, Kensington darling. I picked him to fill the place in your heart that has been empty your whole life long. He just happened to come with business training.”
Kenzi studied her hands. There was a place inside of her that had been filled when Nash came into her life—like she’d finally found the flavor she’d been missing. “You chose wrong. He’s a thief and a liar, Aunt Pamela. Don’t pretend you didn’t know about his past.”
“I wasn’t worried about his past. I don’t care what he did; I only cared about what he could do for you.” Her fingers brushed Kenzi’s temple. “You push so hard and take on so much. You needed someone who could carry those burdens with you. Nash is that man. I stand by my match.”
“I can’t believe what I’m hearing. You think I can’t lead my family’s company without a man at my side. You’re as bad as Harrison.”
Pamela heaved a weary sigh. “A marriage, a good one, is a partnership. You aren’t perfect, darling. You are young, inexperienced, and—I’m sorry to say—lack vision. In time, you won’t be young, you’ll have experience, and you may be able to see past the next fiscal quarter, but you could have all of those things now if you embraced Nash and what he could give you.”
Kenzi worried her lip between her teeth. If all that was true, which she wasn’t admitting that it was, what did she have to offer Nash? The snarky side of her answered:You already gave him the company. What more could he want?The romantic side of her wilted like a cut rose in the middle of winter. She didn’t have anything. Compared to her graceful and stunning sisters, she was bookish and dull. And thanks to the overwhelming lack of confidence from the board, she now knew she was incompetent and lacked vision.
Kenzi thought back to the conference room, to the betrayal. “I can’t. He took the one thing that mattered most to me, knowing how much I wanted it. I don’t know how he can make that right. Or how I can feel right about that—at least enough right to be with him.”
Pamela’s face fell, and it was like watching Tinkerbell gasp for breath, pleading with Wendy Darling to clap her hands. “Are you asking for an annulment?”
Despite everything Kenzi had just said and thought, she couldn’t bring herself to end the marriage. “Not … yet.”
There was a light tapping at the door. “Ms. Jones. Your appointment has just arrived.”
“Thank you, Trish. We’re just about done here.”
Kenzi knew a brush-off when she heard one. “I’ll be out of town for a while.”
“Where are you going?” Pamela’s brow lifted with alarm.
“Someplace I can think.” Kenzi kissed her auntie on the cheek and left. She didn’t owe Pamela an explanation as to her whereabouts, and she certainly wasn’t going to give her the chance to fill anyone in on where she was headed. She’d struck out on her own once in life—granted, her stay in jolly old England hadn’t gone all that well—but she could do it again. Only this time she’d stay stateside. She’d hole up and nurse her broken heart, and when she was strong enough to look at Nash without having the whole thing crumble to pieces again, she’d come home and ask for that annulment.
