Paradise in Progress

35. Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter thirty-five

Kennedy

It’s been two weeks since Tristan and I had our movie moment in the middle of the office floor. The entire thing felt like a scene from one of the rom-coms Olivia and I grew up watching. We’ve been working on mending our relationship and taking things slow, but we’re still together. St. Lucia forced us to have real conversations, but living together escalated our relationship. Now that we’re back in New York, we’ve been dating at a much slower pace.

When I accepted his speech about getting back together, I was still angry at him. But, I mean, there was no way I was saying no in front of our entire floor of co-workers. It’s like those people who propose in front of everyone you know. You say yes, and then call it off in private. Only I have no intention of breaking things off with Tristan. In fact, I hope to keep him forever, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Today, I’m meeting his family during their weekly Sunday dinner. My nerves have my stomach aching. I’ve met most of his family, everyone except his mom, formally, but that was at the office, and this is inside their home for a dinner that she prepared for us. It’s terrifying. Especially being outside the office with Mr. Nelson.

“You look beautiful,” Tristan murmurs in my ear as he kisses my pulse point. The two of us walk hand-in-hand down the sidewalk toward his parents’ brownstone. The air is still crisp, but the sun shines high in the sky. After weeks of gloom, walking in the sunshine is everything I didn’t know I needed. The rays warm my skin, slightly easing the anxiousness swirling inside me.

The Nelsons’ brownstone comes into view. With Tristan’s hand on my lower back, he guides me up the stairs. “Relax, Firecracker.”

Glancing up at him, I try to paste on a reassuring smile, but his small chuckle tells me it looks more like a grimace. Wiping my hands on my leopard print skirt for what feels like the tenth time, I hope the sweat is removed before I have to shake his mother’s hand.

He doesn’t even get the chance to knock—or push open the door—before it’s being opened for us. Standing in the doorway is his mother. Her bright hazel eyes match her son’s as they stare at me with a welcoming warmth. She wears her brunette hair pulled back and secured behind her head, smile blinding as it lights up her face.

“You’re here!” she shouts, pulling Tristan into a hug as I stand still beside him, watching their interaction.

He wraps his arms around her back and pulls her in tight. As she rocks them back and forth, I can’t help grinning. It’s too cute.

Tristan grumbles some unintelligible, and she lets him go as her gaze slides over to me.

“Mom, I’d like you to meet Kennedy Reed.”

Reaching my hand out, I pray it isn’t sweaty. “Mrs. Nelson, it’s a pleasure—”

My words are cut off as she flicks her wrist in my direction before embracing me. The connection is full of love, hope, and excitement. It almost makes me forget how nervous I am. “Nonsense, sweetie. The first girl Tristan brings home can call me Krista.”

The only girl? Quirking an eyebrow, I look over her shoulder and meet her son’s gaze. He lifts one shoulder and shrugs, as if he’s answering my unspoken question.

As she pulls away, she reaches down and squeezes my hand. “Come on in. Food’s almost ready.”

With her back to us, I take the opportunity to admire the beautiful home. As we step inside, the grand entryway features a large, dark, wooden staircase that contrasts against the warm beige walls and light-colored carpet. Even before I’m instructed to, I step aside and begin slipping out of my booties.

“You don’t have to do that,” Tristan whispers.

“It’s no problem,” I say. My shoes aren’t filthy, but there’s no way I’m risking a black mark against this carpet. Not when this house is worth more money than I’ll ever see in my entire life.

Krista pauses in the doorway. “Oh, sweetie, you don’t need to remove your shoes.”

“No, really, I don’t mind,” I insist.

“Tristan, up in the guest bedroom, there are a few pairs of new slippers. See if any are Kennedy’s size.”

“You really don’t…” my words trail off as she flashes me a wink, and before I know it, Tristan is running up the stairs I was admiring. If I thought there was going to be this much fuss, I would have kept my shoes on. Who am I kidding? I probably still would have taken them off because…anxiety.

“I’ll take you on a small tour. Everyone is waiting in the parlor.”

With one last glance up the stairs, I follow his mom into the next room. The living area is a mix of classic and modern elements, which has my jaw dropping. Cream couches face a stunningly intricate carved fireplace. It’s breathtaking.

“Your home is beautiful.”

“Thank you. We’ve had this home since the kids were little, and I have no idea how some pieces survived toddlerhood.”

That’s when I notice the bookshelves lined with vases and antiques.

“You did an excellent job with Paradise. I was so angry on your behalf that they didn’t include your name.”

Sheepishly, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, unsure how to respond, but I settle on a simple thank you.

We move into the oversized white marble kitchen, where pots line the stove as their smells mingle together. My stomach grumbles at the fragrance. Xander walks in from the opposite direction and smiles brightly.

“Ready for your first Nelson family dinner?” He smirks, and my eyes widen.

“Xander, don’t scare the poor girl.”

“Nah, Kennedy can hold her own.” Moving over to the fruit bowl, he pops a few grapes into his mouth.

“I don’t doubt that for one second,” Krista adds. “If she finally put Tristan out of his misery, she can handle anything.”

Conversation flows between the two, and I stand back and observe. A few minutes later, Tristan comes back into the room, carrying a pair of white slippers. He places a gentle kiss on my cheek before bending down to situate the shoes at my feet. I slide into the soft material, and when my feet feel like they’re standing on clouds, I’m instantly grateful for the slippers.

“I hope Mom wasn’t overwhelming you too much.”

Xander looks over at us from where he’s leaning against the counter. “I rescued her just in time. Mom was giving her the fifth degree and listing all the responsibilities that come with the Nelson name.”

“Mom.” Tristan’s eyes widen, but Krista ignores his chastising.

“Your brother was the one scaring the poor girl.”

“The poor girl is standing right in front of us and looks like she could use a glass of wine.” Victoria steps into the kitchen and wraps her arms around my shoulder. “Come, Kenny, I’ll show you where Mom keeps the good wine…and baby pictures.”

“Don’t you dare.” Tristan squints at his sister, almost as if he is daring her.

We both chuckle as Victoria leads me out of the kitchen and toward what I assume is the parlor.

It’s not long before Krista is calling everyone into the dining room. I admire the ornate woodworking, which is original to the home as my eyes trail over the large rectangular table. A neutral table runner sits in the center of the table, where dishes of food wait—roasted chicken with vegetables, mashed potatoes, and a garden salad.

Mr. Nelson waits at the head of the table. It’s the first time I’ve seen him since arriving in his home. He’s as intimidating as ever, and I fight the urge to hide behind Tristan. As we all fill the empty seats, I’m instructed to sit next to Tristan and across from Victoria, while Krista and Xander sit on each side of Mr. Nelson.

“Thank you for inviting me.” The statement is open to anyone, but I’m hoping Mr. Nelson implies it’s directed at him.

Mr. Nelson glances up, meeting my eyes for the first time. “Of course. Any friend of Tristan’s is welcome.”

“Girlfriend,” Tristan corrects and my cheeks heat. I’ll never tire of hearing him claim me, especially in front of his father.

The sounds of silverware clinking against plates are the only sounds in the room as the food platters are passed around. It’s not an awkward silence, but a relaxed one, as if this is just a normal day. I guess to them, it is.

A few moments pass when Mr. Nelson clears his throat. “Are the villas completed at Paradise? What’s the update?”

“Dennis,” Krista chastises beneath her breath. “I thought we promised to keep business away from the table.”

He doesn’t respond, but I can feel his stare in our direction. My heartbeat picks up as the air starts to feel heavy. These damn villas are going to haunt me forever.

Wiping the corners of my mouth with the fabric napkin, I turn my attention to him. Tristan’s hand lands on my thigh in a reassuring touch. “The villas should be completed this coming week.”

A hum comes from the head of the table as my only reassurance that he heard me.

“Kennedy and I fly back down tomorrow morning for the final walk-through,” Tristan is quick to add.

“These villas seem to be more trouble than they’re worth,” Mr. Nelson grumbles.

“They have been a pain, but the reward will be worth it.” I smile sheepishly at my boss.

“I agree with Kennedy,” Xander chimes in, setting his fork on his plate. “There’s a lot of hype around them, with reservations booked through the year starting at the end of the month.”

“Please, no more work talk. Today is about getting to know Kennedy.” Krista sips from her wineglass as she stares down her husband. As intimidated as I am by my boss, it seems he’s just as intimidated by his wife.

The conversation moves away from work as Victoria, Xander, and Tristan all razz on each other. As I’m about to take the last bite of mashed potatoes, Krista’s voice has me pausing with my fork in the air.

“It wasn’t that long ago when the kids were giving Tristan hell about a pretty girl in the office who was giving him a run for his money.” She pauses, her eyes filling with moisture. “I begged them to tell me all about this girl, because I already knew she was special. Especially if she was bringing out the boy he used to be.”

Tristan shifts in his chair uncomfortably, and it’s my turn to place a reassuring hand on his thigh. He uses his opposite hand to weave our fingers together, giving them a quick squeeze.

“Tristan’s road hasn’t always been easy, and along the way, we lost a bit of him, but since the two of you have been together, I’ve seen the old Tristan again. The one that jokes, laughs, and walks through life for himself. We have you to thank for that, Kennedy.”

It’s my turn for tears to well in my eyes. I cast a glance at Tristan, who leans in and kisses my forehead.

“All that to say,” Krista pauses, picking up her glass and everyone follows suit, “welcome to the family, Kennedy. ”

Cheers ring out around the table, and the warmth that surrounds me has me feeling complete.

We no longer stand on opposite sides of a blueprint, sketching rough straps from varying ideas as we try to outdo the other. Our paradise in progress is now complete.

In the wake is a solid skyscraper, built brick by brick from each moment we’ve shared—good, bad, and ugly. Our past supported our future, and together we’ll walk solid and unwavering.