Sisters in Bloom (Love in Bloom: Snow Sisters #2), Contemporary Romance (10 page)

Chapter Twenty

Danica unlocked her condo door and was assaulted by loud music. Covering her ears, she passed through the living room, which had sheets of paper strewn about. The kitchen was no better. Crumpled papers covered the breakfast table. She headed toward the den to turn down the stereo.

“Kaylie?” she called out to the empty room. She checked the first floor bathroom, then headed upstairs, where she found Kaylie out on the back balcony, chewing on a piece of red licorice.

“That’s my after sex food. It’s not fight food.” She sat in the chair next to Kaylie and let out a frustrated sigh. Did Kaylie have to take over her house and her after sex food? What else could she confiscate?

Kaylie looked up at her and finished the entire twig of licorice before lowering the notebook she’d been scribbling in. “Don’t you have to be at work, or with Blake, or something?”

“Don’t you have your own house?”

Kaylie looked back down at the notebook and began to write.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or are you just going to take over my condo, make a giant mess, and pretend like you’re not going to have a baby in a few weeks?”

Kaylie continued writing. “I found a sock,” she said without looking up. “And a hairbrush.”

What the hell?
“A sock? And a hairbrush?”

Kaylie nodded.

“Kaylie, I don’t have time for games. I have to get the center’s event ready by this weekend.”
And your baby shower the following weekend
. “Do you want to talk or not?”

“I’m not gonna be Mom,” Kaylie said, like she’d made up her mind and there was nothing to talk about.

“Speaking of Mom, she’s worried about you. She really wants to try to get your relationship back on track. Don’t you want to do that? She called me twice yesterday, spoke to me again this morning, and then she sent me two more texts.”

Kaylie clenched her jaw, then said, “I guess so, but I can’t focus on that right now.”

“You always give Mom the short end of the stick. She said you should talk to Chaz.”

Kaylie shot her a venomous look. “You told Mom about this?”

“I didn’t know it was a secret. What is
this
anyway? You have bags in your car? Are you leaving him?”

“I found a sock! And a brush!” Kaylie’s voice rose as tears filled her eyes. “A woman’s sock, and a woman’s brush, and they aren’t mine.”

“Oh, come on, Kaylie. Chaz would never cheat on you. He adores you. You know it’s just something that was yours and you forgot, or maybe Max was there for something. There’s got to be a rational explanation. Chaz doesn’t even glance at other women.”

Kaylie shook her head. “No, I’m not going to be Mom. I can’t be that woman who gets cheated on. It’s better that I leave now, before this baby is born.”

Danica reached for Kaylie and Kaylie leaned away.

“Jesus, Kaylie. This is real life, not some dramatic game you’re playing. Your child needs both parents.” Danica crossed her arms and stewed, wondering how she’d handle it if the tables were turned. She took her tone down a notch. “Did you talk to him? It was probably from before you moved in together.”

“It was in the couch, and the brush was
on the sink
.”

Danica had to admit that wasn’t good, but she still couldn’t imagine Chaz ever cheating on her sister. “Well, do you vacuum under your couch cushions? Because I don’t. I can’t tell you what’s under those damn cushions.” She’d start cleaning under them now. Actually, maybe it would be safer to have Blake clean his out the first time, to avoid this type of drama.

Kaylie looked at her from the corner of her eyes. The way her hair shielded her face, she looked like the scared little girl that Danica had found sitting on the back porch of their childhood home, crying because she’d stepped on a ladybug. Danica closed her eyes. This was her sister. Kaylie needed her, and she wouldn’t lecture her and push her away. Pregnancy hormones or not, Kaylie was still Kaylie.

“Things aren’t always as they appear, Kaylie.” Danica sat back in her chair and looked out at the mountains in the distance. The sky was the color of watered-down blue, as if it had been painted with watercolors. Why couldn’t Kaylie’s life be as beautiful and perfect as the sky? “You aren’t Mom. Chaz isn’t Dad. When are you going to let yourself be happy?”

Kaylie wiped her tears from her eyes. “I was happy.”

“Then why are there two suitcases in your car? And why are you here instead of at your house?” She was careful to ask without accusing.

“I thought he wanted me to stay home and give up working, which started the week out on a crazy note, but we moved past it. Then I don’t know. He looked guilty when I left to meet you guys, and I didn’t want any more fights, so I left even though he said he needed to talk. Maybe this was what he wanted to tell me, that he’d found someone else, that I was too emotional for him, or whatever.  If he does—” sobs stole her words— “even if he…does…figuring out I could write would still be worth it.”

“How? You’re here; he’s God knows where.”

“Hawaii. I told you that yesterday.”

“Hawaii?”

Kaylie shook her head and the flow of tears returned. “Work, remember?”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Relationships don’t fall apart because you had a fight or you forgot to call home. He’s going to be your husband. You guys just need some time to air things out.”

Kaylie glared at her. She opened her mouth to speak and Danica cut her off.

“Remember when Jimmy Walker found Steve Brewster’s ID bracelet in your locker?”

“Yeah, what does that—”

“Do you remember how mad he was?”

Kaylie nodded.

“And remember how you had no idea it was in there?”

“Only because
you
put it there!”

“Whatever. Same same. You can’t leave Chaz for a sock and a hairbrush, and you can’t sit around feeling sorry for yourself at my condo.” There she went, parenting Kaylie again.

“I’m not. I’m writing.” She handed the notebook to Danica.

Danica leafed through it. There were pages and pages of song lyrics and musical notes. Danica drew her eyebrows together.

“It turns out he was right. I can write songs.” Kaylie tried to smile, but her smile was shrouded in sadness.

“Kay, these are so raw, emotional.” She saw her sister through new eyes. “You wrote these? All of them? There must be ten songs here.”

“Twelve, and another three downstairs. I don’t know what happened. I was really upset over our fight, and the next day, when I woke up, I was listening to the radio, and suddenly it hit me. The songs were all wrong. They didn’t have the right pitch of…I don’t know…desperation to them. The words were all childlike, as if every song was written about teenagers, so I began to write what I was feeling. Then I wrote some more, and before I knew it, I was elbow deep in ideas that were coming so fast I could barely keep up.”

“These are amazing. What are you going to do with them?”

Kaylie shrugged.

“You’re in the music business. You of all people know what to do with them.”

“I haven’t even sung any of them with the music yet. They might suck.”

Danica shook her head. The songs were perfect. They said what she felt every time she looked at Blake, when his hands were on her skin, warm and strong, and the lyrics spoke of the sinking feeling that consumed her when they argued. “They won’t suck.”

Kaylie shrugged again. “I guess I could ask Alex if the band can play them for me.”

“Yes, perfect.” Danica stood up, and then sat back down. Her momentary elation sidetracked by the fact that her little sister had just walked out on her fiancé.

“What?” Kaylie asked, exasperated.

“Kaylie, you gotta go back to Chaz. Has he called you a dozen times?”

Kaylie shrugged.

“Where’s your phone?” Danica stormed inside, angry that her sister could be so stupid. Was she going to mess up her entire life unless Danica held her hand every second of the day? Danica flew down the stairs to the kitchen and dumped the contents of Kaylie’s purse. “Where’s your phone?”

“Car.”

“Kaylie!” She headed to the garage and retrieved the phone, slamming the door behind her. “Listen to your messages and call your fiancé. Seriously. What on earth are you thinking?” Then it dawned on her. This was Kaylie she was talking to. Maybe Kaylie really couldn’t commit, even after all the positive steps she’d taken with Chaz. Maybe she was really much more messed up than Danica cared to admit.

She sank into a kitchen chair and asked Kaylie, in the most caring voice she could muster, “Do you love him?” She watched Kaylie nod, fresh tears streaking her face.

Danica let out a relieved breath. “Fix this,” she said softly. “Call him. Fix it before it can’t be fixed.”

Kaylie took the phone and went into the other room. She came back a few minutes later with red rims around her eyes.

“What?”

“I couldn’t reach him, but I left him a message.” Kaylie set her phone down on the counter and fiddled with the edge of her shirt. “The message I left him earlier was horrible. I actually accused him of cheating.” She stood beside Danica, deflated.

Danica embraced her. “It’s gonna be fine. Everyone fights. Let’s get your stuff back to your house and he’ll call, and you’ll work it all out.”

“Do you really think it’s not a new sock? Who’s brush could that be?”

Danica smiled. “I’m sure it’s not a new sock. Chaz loves you, and I’m sure he’ll explain the rest.”
At least I hope so
. As she gathered Kaylie’s papers, she realized that she’d been staying at Blake’s so often that the condo no longer felt like
her
condo, but rather like a place she used to live. Kaylie could cover her entire house with sheets of paper and songs, and it wouldn’t matter. Danica no longer felt married to her condo the way she had when she and Blake first met. But she also realized, as she watched Kaylie shuffling papers at the kitchen table and wondering if Kaylie’s relationship was about to end in a flurry of heartache, that she wasn’t ready to leave it all behind, either. She liked having a safety net. Just in case.

Chapter Twenty-One

 

The hostess led Chaz to a corner table  with views of the water.
Of cour
se. Lea would have it no other way.

The tension in Max’s eyes told him whatever Lea wanted was something Max was not happy about.

“Sorry I’m late.” He kept his eyes on Max as he sat down across from Lea.

Lea put her hand on his and narrowed her eyes. She spoke in a deep, sensuous purr. “We were just getting to know each other better.”

He pulled his hand back as if he’d been stabbed with a needle. The heady scent of her perfume, which had somehow eluded his senses in his room, now wrapped itself around him. Gucci Guilty. He cleared his throat, pushing away the surge of memories that the smell brought with it.

Max broke through the silence. “Shall we order?”

“This one’s in a rush.” Lea raised her nose in Max’s direction as she picked up her drink. “We ordered you a scotch,” she said with an air of confidence.

He pretended to study the menu. In reality, he was concentrating on ignoring her perfume and trying to figure out why Max was dressed the way she was.

“I don’t drink scotch anymore,” he said sharply, then lifted the right side of his mouth into a grin and caught Max’s eye.

Her approving nod was almost imperceptible.

Chaz could actually feel the stress in the thickness of the air around their table. He looked around the well-appointed restaurant. Each table gleamed with candlelight, its silverware sparkling against royal-blue tablecloths. He imagined being there with Kaylie, holding her hand across the table as they looked out into the night, with the romance of the water at their beck and call.
Kaylie
. He promised himself again, no more lies. No more omissions. He was a man, and from now on, he’d deal with the consequences of his actions head-on.

Lea sipped her way through three-quarters of a bottle of wine. Each time Chaz brought up the sponsorship, she said they could talk about it after they ate.
Why spoil a meal?
And each time she blew him off, his stomach clenched a little tighter.

Finally, when Chaz could take it no more, he folded his napkin and set it on the table. “Lea, what’s this charade all about? You had me fly halfway across the world to sit at a dinner table with you?”

“You brought a babysitter with you,” Lea said with a sigh.

Chaz met Max’s gaze. “No, I brought my sponsorship coordinator with me. Max has run our programs for years. You know this. You’re stalling, and I want to know why.”

“You’re not going to like what I have to say.” She patted the corners of her mouth with the napkin.

“Lea, we’re prepared to offer you—”

Lea cut Max off by holding up her hand. Then she turned in her seat, crossing her legs seductively toward Chaz.

He kept his eyes trained on hers. He wasn’t falling into her trap. Not tonight. Not ever again.

“I’m not interested in what you can offer me.” Lea leaned toward Chaz. “I have all that I want, and it looks like I’m going to be getting even more of it.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. Chaz?” Max asked.

Chaz was sure he had steam fuming from his ears. He was sick of Lea’s games, and it took every inch of his focus to speak in a restaurant-appropriate tone. “Lea, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I have a pregnant fiancée who I’d really like to get home to.” He watched for a reaction. If the news came as a surprise, she didn’t show it.

Lea leaned back in her chair. “This is kind of fun, watching you two squirm.”

“Okay, that’s it.” Chaz stood. “Max, let’s go. We don’t need her sponsorship this badly.”
The hell with pride
.
Trust fund, here we come
.

Max rose to her feet.

“Do sit down, Chaz.” She turned to Max. “Babysitter,” she snarked, motioning to the empty chair.

“Apologize,” Chaz demanded.

Lea turned to Max and looked her up and down. “You are a bit old to be a babysitter. Hmm…Oh, I see. You and Chaz? Well, isn’t that a surprise?”

Max’s cheeks flushed.

“Lea, we’re done here.” Chaz walked around the table and took Max’s arm, leading her away from the table.

“I’m buying one-third of the festival.”

Lea’s words stopped Chaz in his tracks. He stalked back toward the table. “You’re what?”

“You heard me. You need sponsorships, so I thought, what better way to ensure that you have the money you need every year.”

“Don’t do this, Lea.” Chaz’s heart thundered in his chest. This could not happen.

“I’m dying for the additional third, but it seems your father’s other crony isn’t as willing to play as Jansen was.”

Carl Jansen had been his father’s business partner, and Chaz had almost forgotten about their falling out. Although he still owned his percentage, Carl hadn’t taken interest in the festival the entire time Chaz had run it, and because of that, there had never been a need to try and regain that ownership. “He can’t do that. I get first right of refusal.” He had no idea if it was true, but he needed all the ammo he could get.

“Oh, he can, and he is.”

“You’ll sleep with anyone,” Max said through gritted teeth. “He’s an old man.”

“An old,
wealthy
man who has something that I want.”

“He’s married!” Max spat.

Chaz stood between Max and Lea, fuming. “Why would you pursue this? You can have anything you want. Any festival. Any business. You have more money than God himself. Why
my
festival?”

Lea’s silent grin was more than Chaz could take.

“Are you really so angry about our breakup that you would try and force your way into my business?” He turned away, then turned back and said, “You’re pathetic.”

“Chaz, I’m surprised at you. You underestimate me. Surely you know that there is little I won’t do to get what I want. No matter who gets hurt in the process.”

Chaz didn’t see the people staring at him as he fumed his way out of the restaurant. He didn’t see the satisfied grin on Lea’s lips, and he didn’t see the protective look on Max’s face as she held on to him with a tender, yet firm, touch. Chaz saw one thing, and one thing only. Red.

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