14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter fourteen
Tristan
I counted every single slat in the shuttered balcony doors last night. Four hundred and eighty, to be exact. But sleep never came for me. No matter how hard I tried to roll over and fall asleep, the image of Kennedy in her goddamn bra and thong flashed through my mind.
She’s tantalizing.
She’s infuriating.
She’s fucking flawless.
Bronzed, glowing skin and those luscious curves leaned over the edge of the pool as she stared down below us. When I stepped onto the balcony, my tongue practically fell out of my mouth. My first thought was picking up where we left off the other night, with her body pressed up against mine. It’s why I woke up hard as a rock at two in the morning. My mind kept flashing to all the scenarios I could have had her in that damn pool.
Last night felt so natural. The two of us enjoyed dinner on the couch and watched a movie. It reminded me of the night that she nearly passed out during our cycle class. How I took her home, we had dinner together, and she played a rom-com from the early 2000s. I swear she chose that movie just to torture me. The joke was on her, though. I didn’t mind the Bring It On movies. My sister went through a cheerleading phase and would watch the entire franchise on repeat.
A restless night turned into an even more exhausting day as I was pulled into meeting after meeting. Even though my top priority is this resort remodel, I still have to oversee the projects other architects are completing. Not to mention, a weekly operations meeting, which ends up dragging.
The clock finally struck five, calling the end of my workday. If I were in the city, I’d still be working until most people’s bedtimes, but I refused tonight. I hadn’t seen Kennedy since she left early this morning. She was wearing a fiery red dress that flowed with every step she took. It was tantalizing to watch her move across the resort. No matter where she went, heads turned. I can’t explain the jealousy that flared deep inside as the crew gazed at her, with their tongues practically hanging out and drool falling from their lips. And I know if I would’ve looked in a mirror, my face would’ve matched theirs.
Making my way across the sidewalk, I’m hit in the face with the salty ocean breeze. As I watch the turquoise water hit the white sand, I realize I still haven’t had a chance to dip my toes in the ocean. I should have Sunday. I should have ignored the emails and not taken any calls from my father, but I did, as is expected of me. If I’d been in the city, I would have been attending our weekly family meal, and instead of phone calls, I’d be hearing the lectures from my father in person.
My phone ringing in my pocket pulls my attention from the sea. Again.
Speak of the devil.
“Hello, Dad.”
“You’ve been a hard man to track down,” he says by way of greeting .
Sighing, I run my hand through my hair. “I’ve been a little busy.”
“Glad to hear you aren’t just enjoying yourself.”
“No, sir.” Pausing, I sit down at one of the many tables sprinkled around the resort. The oversized umbrella is open, allowing a small reprieve from the bright sun.
“I heard through your brother that there are delays on the over-the-water villas. I want to know why this information didn’t come from you, and why the hell this wasn’t handled sooner?”
Fucking Xander.
“We filed everything when we should have. Unfortunately, there’s an issue on their end. It’s all bureaucratic bullshit. They don’t want to approve the plans.”
“You should have anticipated this, Tristan. What are you doing to get this expedited? We cannot have any more delays.”
“Kennedy’s on it. She’s been there for the past two days working with them.”
“See to it she gets it done, or we’ll find someone else who can handle the job. The villas are going to be a major selling point to get guests to enjoy a secluded vacation with an exclusive atmosphere.”
“I understand the urgency, Dad,” I grit through my teeth. “We are on top of it and working to get the permits and plans approved.”
“You better, Tristan. Don’t make me regret giving you this position.”
Scanning the flowerbeds lined with botanical plants, I’m about to reply but realize he’s already hung up. With a frustrated sigh, I stand from the table and make my way to the penthouse.
As I wait for the doors to open on the penthouse floor, I undo the top few buttons of my dress shirt to cool down. There’s nothing I need more than a drink, which is exactly what I do as soon as the car arrives. In the corner of the living room is a black bar cart lined with crystal glasses and expensive liquors. Pulling the cork on the bourbon, I pour the amber liquid into a rock glass before I carry it over to the oversized couch.
Legs spread and shirt halfway open, I rest and bring the bourbon to my lips. The urge to shoot it back is high, but good bourbon should never be shot. I know that much.
Sitting in the quiet space, I stare at the blank TV and run over not just the phone call I had with my dad but everything in my life.
The relationship between my dad and me has always been rocky. Xander was the favorite, since he was the firstborn son. He’s been destined to follow in my father’s footsteps since birth. Nelson Signature Hotels & Resorts is his whenever my father decides it’s time for him to step down from CEO.
Xander has reveled in the firstborn duties for as long as I can remember. Throughout our years in school, he took his grades seriously. Not only was he the top student in his graduating class, but when he wasn’t in school, Xander was on the green with my dad, honing his golfing skills. Dad always said that business is made on the course and not in a boardroom. He believed that it was important to harness a strong relationship on the golf course, rather than behind desks in sterile office spaces. Since Xander was next in line, the two of them would take off every Saturday morning to golf eighteen holes.
No matter how many times I asked, I was always left behind. Dad would promise we’d spend time together, but we never did. We never did a lot of things. It affected my relationship with him, but it affected my relationship with Xander even more. When I graduated from NYU, I bought a penthouse overlooking Manhattan and offered Xander one of the spare rooms. When he took it, I thought that would be the olive branch we needed to develop a brotherly relationship. The two of us have, to some degree, but it’s not a relationship like most brothers.
Then there’s my father’s relationship with Victoria. I love my sister. Seriously, I do. We both give each other a lot of shit, but we have the closest bond. But when it comes to my father, Vi can do no wrong. As the baby of the family and the only daughter, she’s been wrapped around his finger since she was born. And I know that her relationship with my father hasn’t been sunshine and rainbows. He’s pushed her to be the best in more ways than one, but at the end of the day, she’s still his little girl.
And I’m stuck in the middle. The company will never be mine, and I’m okay with that. Honestly, I am. My dad and, some days, my brother, think I can’t handle the responsibility that comes with being a Nelson. But they’re wrong. Sure, I made mistakes in high school and even in college. But I’m wired differently than they are.
Making money is great, but not if that’s the only thing you’re known for. I wanted to experience life outside of New York and outside of the business. I wanted to do the typical backpacking in Europe to gain some true independence and have a taste of freedom. I wanted to live for a few years before I was chained to the company. It was never my dream to work for Nelson Signature, but I knew I never had a choice in the matter.
Dad had kids to run his company. To carry on the Nelson legacy, whatever that means .
Bringing the glass to my lips, I suck in a heavy sip and let the oakiness and vanilla burn my throat. I rest my neck on the back of the couch and take a deep breath. The elevator doors chime open as I’m exhaling, and in walks Kennedy. Copper frizz lines the outside of her red-tinged face. The humidity isn’t helping her thick hair.
She pauses just inside the penthouse and eyes me. I feel her gaze lick heat down my face and over my exposed chest, where I couldn’t be bothered to remove my shirt, opting to have it opened in a deep V. The way her eyes widen and darken to a new shade of green as she gives me a once-over. Her skin is balmy from the humidity, dark circles line her under eyes, and her shoulders are slouched. She looks nothing like her typical confident self. Instead, exhaustion and frustration radiate from her. Of course, she still looks beautiful. When doesn’t she?
Shaking her head, she marches over to the front of the U-shaped couch, where she tosses her work bag onto a cushion. But she doesn’t stop there. No, she marches straight over to where I’m sitting in the corner of the couch until she’s standing between my spread legs. I want to reach out and pull her into my lap and kiss her perfect pouty lips. But I don’t even move as I stare up at her.
Reaching forward, I think she’s going to grab a hold of me, only she bypasses my arm, going straight to the crystal tumbler in my hand. Bringing my glass to her lips, she takes a sip of the amber liquid, and I watch in amusement as her throat bobs from her swallow and she sits down on the cushion next to me. Her feet fly up to the coffee table as she toes off her sandals.
“Fuck this day,” she says with a drawn-out huff, and I can’t help but chuckle. Kennedy’s head whips in my direction, and she quirks a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “My misery brings you joy? ”
“Of course not. I was just sitting here in my own misery, thinking the same damn thing.”
She lifts the glass to her lips again for another sip. I’ve never wanted to be a glass more than I do right now.
Silence falls over the room as both of us stare into space as we work through the frustrations of our days.
“Call a truce?” I ask, shocking myself.
A truce? What am I, a child? But maybe this could be the chance to have a reprieve from the tension between us. Hell, we’re stuck here in the same room. Neither one of us has our friends here to go have drinks with and bitch to.
Her head lulls in my direction as our eyes lock. “A truce?”
“Yeah. We’re going to be stuck together for the foreseeable future, so might as well call a truce and vent to each other.”
She shrugs. “My boss is an asshole.”
My eyes widen. “What the hell did I do to you today?”
A warm smile curves at the ends of her lips. “I like how you immediately assume it’s you. But no, I mean your lovely father.”
“What’d he do?” I ask with more of a bite than intended, sitting up taller. I swear he better not have gotten off the phone with me and called her directly.
“He called me as I was arriving back at the resort. He informed me that I need to get the permits approved by tomorrow or I can find myself a new job.”
What the fuck?
“He didn’t.”
“Oh, he did. ”
Running a hand through my hair, I push out a breath. “Shit, Ken. He shouldn’t have called you. I told him we had everything handled.”
“Thanks, but it’s fine. I spent all day at the administrative office, only to be informed that the guy I needed to speak to took a personal day. That was after I was there for three hours.”
As I open my mouth to respond, feeling panicked, she puts her hand up, shaking her head.
“It’s fine. I was able to talk to someone else and explain everything. He told me he would make sure I had a meeting tomorrow. So I’ll be back there at nine o’clock.”
Thank fuck.
“Well, that’s at least something.” I stand from my seat and walk over to the bar cart to pour myself another drink. Kennedy can finish mine.
Walking back to the couch, I can’t take my eyes off her. Even dripping in exhaustion from her frustrating day, she’s still breathtaking.
“It is…” she starts before bringing one of her bare feet onto her lap as I settle back in my seat next to her. “Except now my feet are killing me because chairs were limited, so I had to stand most of the day. The bottoms of these sandals are hard as a rock.”
Placing my hand in front of me, I gesture for her foot. “Give it.”
“What?”
“You heard me, Ken. Give me your foot.”
She reaches next to her for the pile of throw pillows before she arranges them in a way that has her body resting on the makeshift backrest before. Then she’s bringing her foot onto my lap at a snail’s pace, almost as if she’s waiting for me to change my mind.
“I can’t believe you’re letting me do this.”
A defeated shrug is all she gives me .
Adjusting her legs so that they are hanging across mine, I dig my thumbs into the arch of her foot. A soft moan comes from the woman who I can’t keep out of my mind, and it’s the best reward. I glance over at her and find her mouth parted, eyes hooded as they roll back into her head. And now I’m picturing her pillowy red lips wrapped around my dick as she’s on her knees in front of me.
Fuck, looks like I’ll be getting myself off again tonight. Only now, I know what her moans sound like...
She clears her throat. “That feels incredible.”
I can think of something else that would feel incredible…
“So what’s got you so frustrated?” Her breathy voice interrupts my blatant daydream.
“It’s nothing.”
Kennedy starts to sit up, but I hold her foot hostage. She blows out a frustrated breath as her eyes narrow.
“Uh-uh.” She waves her pointer finger in my direction. “Don’t do that bullshit. You wanted a truce, so spill, Nelson.”
Feisty Kennedy is my favorite.
“Today, it’s my dad’s lack of faith in me that’s got me pissed.” I can feel her gaze boring into the side of my face, waiting for me to elaborate. “He’s waiting for me to fail.”
“Wait, what? Your dad is waiting for you to fail?”
“It’s always been like this. I know you think I’m the ‘golden boy’ who has had everything handed to him, and in some regards, I have. But it’s Xander who is the real golden boy.”
For the next few minutes, I elaborate on everything that I’ve had to deal with by being the middle child and second boy. It’s an archaic, elitist logic that only the firstborn receives the blessing of the company and everything the family name stands for. I watch as her eyes widen and her breathing increases. Anger seeps from her pores, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen Kennedy get defensive over me. Usually, she’s finding a way to piss me off, and here she is, getting upset at the cards I was dealt.
“I had no idea.” Her voice is small, and I hate that my admission is making her feel any sort of way.
“It’s not your fault.”
She purses her lips and stares out the window. I follow her gaze and watch the palms blow in the slight breeze.
“Do you want to be working for Nelson Signature?”
And with that question, I feel like I’ve been hit by a freight train. The question is jarring and has me pausing.
I shrug. “I don’t know any different. Nelson Signature has always been my final destination. Growing up, the rules were simple: attend a university in New York and take my rightful place at our family’s company. There was never any room to dream about anything else. My destiny was forged long before I even knew how to walk. But there was a time, back when I was in junior high, when I had different dreams.”
“Tell me about it?”
Bringing my glass to my lips, I finish the amber liquid in one gulp. The welcoming burn is one I need to get through the memories flooding my mind.
“My cousin, Asher, lived in Chicago. His dad and my dad are brothers, and during the summer months, I would pack a bag and head to Chicago for a month or longer.”
“Wait,” she interrupts. “Your dad has a brother? Why isn’t he working at Nelson Signature? ”
“He’s a hedge fund manager in Chicago. There was some kind of falling out with my uncle and grandfather, so he moved to another city. It sucked since Asher was our only cousin. Him and I were the closest in age and we had the closest bond.”
“That’s cool you could go and spend your summers there.”
“Yeah…” I refuse to let my mind go to a dark place. “Asher and I had crazy dreams we knew we would never be able to do. We would talk about opening a bait and tackle shop on Lake Michigan or moving to Deer County, Wisconsin, to become hiking guides. Whatever got us outdoors and away from the suffocating city life.”
Her laugh is like a melody filtering through the space as I quirk an eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry,” she says in between laughs. “I just can’t picture you baiting a hook.”
“Believe it. Those months spent with Asher were filled with days on Lake Michigan, fishing and wakeboarding.”
A wistful smile takes over her pretty face. “You were like a whole other person. So you’d leave the bright lights of the city behind to start your own outdoor adventure company?”
“I don’t know what I would do now. Those were the dreams of a fourteen-year-old me who couldn’t take the pressure any longer. I felt alone in the city, and the only time I didn’t was when I was with Asher and his two best friends who shadowed us around everywhere.”
“Trist.” My name coming out of her mouth slowly, laced with caution and curiosity.
My head turns. “Yeah, Ken?”
Biting on her lower lip, her eyes search mine. “You keep talking about Asher in the past tense. Did…something happen? ”
I suck in a deep breath, knowing this question was coming, but I didn’t realize how unprepared I was for it. Tipping my head against the back of the couch, I take a second to calm my racing mind that’s filled with images from the past. Her soft hand finds mine and she gives a gentle squeeze. It’s a reassuring touch letting me know she’s here for me. With a deep breath, I lean forward, my hand never leaving her grip.
“He died in a car accident with one of his best friends.”
A gasp leaves her lips, and I hate that I’ve cast a dark cloud over this moment. She says a quiet “I’m so sorry,” but I barely hear it as an onslaught of emotions I’ve kept buried for years hits me like a tidal wave.
For a few minutes, we sit in silence. Her hand is in mine while she rests her head on my shoulder, giving me an unspoken comfort I’m desperate for.
“I think I would’ve liked to see that side of you.” The sincerity in her voice has me pausing. Glancing over, I expect to find pity on her face, but there’s only kindness and understanding there as I search her eyes.
“I don’t remember that side of me. It all turned into the pressure of getting good academics, fishing adventures turned into boardrooms, and days on the lake turned into being the director of design at my father’s firm.” Refusing to meet her eyes, I find that long palm branch and watch it float in the wind.
“I’m sorry for giving you so much shit.”
“Don’t be. Sparing with you has been the highlight of my adult life, Firecracker.” I wink.
Her eyes roll, and I laugh, squeezing her calf muscle. I didn’t realize I quit rubbing her feet and trailed my hand higher. I watch as her gaze lands on our connection. Kennedy’s breath catches as our eyes lock, and something passes across her features. The ringing of my phone breaks our moment, and dread pools in my stomach, hoping that it’s not my father calling for round two.
The number isn’t one I recognize, and while I answer, Kennedy gets up from her spot and leaves the room.
I can only hope our truce will turn into more.