Chapter Thirty-Five
1month later
Nash tapped a pen on Kenzi’s desk as he contemplated the new packaging design on Kenzi’s computer screen. He’d sat in this chair for a month, had his name on the door for just over three weeks—Ben was efficient like that—and he couldn’t bring himself to call it his office. Not when he’d unwittingly stolen it from Kenzi.
Despite Everett and Guy’s assurances that this is what Arthur would have wanted, Nash couldn’t get over the guilt. The betrayal on Kenzi’s face was deeper than the company. She’d told him she loved him, and in return, he’d taken her most precious dream. He’d tracked Kenzi to Pamela Jones’s office only to have the trail disappear after that. With nothing left to do, he’d gone to work the next day and taken over running the company. Someone had to do it. If only Kenzi would return his calls, answer an email, or reply to a text, he could tell her how terribly sorry he was about all of this.
With an iron will, he refocused on the design. The colors, teal and red with dark chocolate-colored fonts, were somewhat garish, but they’d work to make the product stand out on the shelf, and they’d brand the company as new and fresh while the use of standard fonts gave a nod to Hazel’s long-standing reputation. And the new containers—not boxes! He’d ruled those out as too cheap—could translate over into the line of milk flavors rolling out at the end of the month. They were starting with strawberry, chocolate, banana, and vanilla flavors. Once those caught on, they would add cookies & cream, cherry, strawberry & banana, salted caramel chocolate, and dark chocolate.
Their retail stores already had old-fashioned counters and barstools like the one he’d spent a month at in the tasting room. Adding milkshakes and the ability to customize their current offerings had been as easy as plugging in a few blenders and stocking the fridge. Minimal training took place with employees, but everyone seemed to catch on quickly. It was almost like the company was begging for the addition of new products, and when they arrived, there was a sigh of relief.
His phone dinged and his eyes fell on it fast, his heart leaping to the conclusion that Kenzi had finally texted him back. However, it was just a reminder to pick up his dry cleaning. He wouldn’t need to; the maid would see to that. Was it creepy that he still lived in Kenzi’s suite? It was as creepy as skin floating on the top of warm milk. He just couldn’t bring himself to move out. Her shampoo was still in the shower. Her bedroom door hung open—not that he’d gone in there since she left. That would be crossing from creepy to creeper.
He couldn’t move out of her home and couldn’t claim her desk because he clung to everything she’d left behind the day she evaporated into thin air. Her things were all he had left to hold of the woman he loved.
He’d driven out to the farm looking for her, sure that she’d stop in for some of Gladys’s apple cobbler and a homemade sympathy. He ate the cobbler and took the sympathy, but didn’t find Kenzi. Gladys told him to keep on looking. Kensington had traveled the world before, and she could be anywhere. He didn’t leave feeling encouraged.
Ben cleared his throat. “Um …”
Nash lowered his eyebrows. Ben wasn’t anumkind of person. Whatever he had to say had thrown the unflappable receptionist for a loop.
“There’s a woman out here who says she’s your sister.”
Nash came halfway out of his seat and then hovered there, not daring to believe that Ben told the truth. “Umm …”
“She doesn’t have an appointment, but I can’t say no to a woman in tears, so I told her I would check with you.”
Behind Ben, Alice came into view. Her hair was shorter than it had been three and a half years ago, shorter in the back and brushing her shoulders in the front—stylish in a classical beauty way. She wore a pair of cream-colored dress pants and a navy button-up ironed to a crisp.
He stood slowly, his legs forgetting how to straighten on their own and needing additional encouragement. “Alice,” he said to prove that it was really her. That she was here in Kenzi’s office. All traces of the horror and embarrassment she’d worn thicker than a fur coat when she visited him in prison were gone. The tears that splashed down her cheeks were happy tears.
Ben melted out of the room.
“I got your text.” Alice laughed lightly and scrubbed at her face. “I shouldn’t have put on makeup today.” She laughed again.
He circled the desk. “How did you know where to find me?”
“There was an article online about the new CEO of Hazel’s Dairy Delights. I cried for hours, Nash. My keyboard is ruined.”
It was his turn to laugh, and he opened his arms for her to step in. She did, her hands clasping behind his back as if she thought he would fly away. She shouldn’t have worried; he’d waited years for this moment. Prayed for it, even. “I’m so glad you came.”
“Why didn’t you come home?” Her voice was muffled by his jacket.
“I couldn’t. Not until I’d made something of myself again.”
She hugged tight before letting go. “How about now? You feel good about being CEO?”
He motioned for her to take one of the two chairs in front of his desk, and he took the other. “I feel horrible about it, Alice.”
“What? Why?”
He took a deep breath. He’d just gotten his sister back. Could he really tell a story that made him look every bit the villain she’d thought he was? He looked at her, taking in the straight nose they’d inherited from their father and the defined jawline they’d gotten from their mother. Hiding his past had cost him Kenzi. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again. So he told her everything that had happened, from the trip to Park City to the arranged marriage to the day he lost Kenzi. “And I can’t find her anywhere. I’m ready to hire a private investigator.”
“What about her cousin, the lawyer?”
Nash chewed his lip. He and Harrison had come to a loose truce. “He doesn’t know. He was the one who suggested the farm, but she wasn’t there.”
“And her sister?”
