Chapter twenty - five Kendra
Chapter twenty-five
Kendra
After months cramped in Denise’s apartment to save on overhead, we finally had to bite the bullet and rent studio space. My heels click on the concrete floor as I do a spin in the center of the room. It’s beautiful.
Denise’s text an hour ago said she was bringing in several dress forms, clothing racks, and all the design prototypes, so I got here early in case she needed help with the service elevator. Thank God she didn’t ask me to load the truck she rented; Manolos and hauling boxes don’t mix.
I turn when a key snicks in the lock and expect to see the woman of the hour, but find Cory instead. She must’ve enlisted his help as manual labor for the day.
“Hi, Cory!” I greet him, holding the door open as he struggles with the first of many heavy boxes.
“Hey, Kendra.” He eyes my skinny jeans and stiletto heels. “You’re helping us move in that?”
I give him a rueful smile and shake my head.
“Sadly, no,” I answer, and he smirks. Clearly, I’m not sad at all to miss out on sweating up my outfit.
“I am going to help unpack the boxes once you bring them up, and I’ll gladly hold the elevator while you guys unload downstairs.”
He props the door open with a doorstop and pushes in two more boxes that were sitting outside the door.
“That would actually be great. Denise sent me up with the first load, but I passed a tenant on the third floor with a bunch of boxes too.”
“Yeah, weekends are crazy around here,” I agree. “They really ought to have a schedule.”
He pushes in the last two boxes from this load, panting lightly with the effort, then pulls a water bottle from the pocket of his cargo shorts and takes a deep swig.
“We missed you at Mom and Dad’s Halloween party last Saturday. Damon was the saddest Yao Ming I’ve ever seen.”
I giggle.
“I know. He sent me several pictures throughout the night to try to guilt me into coming, but I had to make an appearance at a party for my agency, and I’d already agreed to be on my friend’s float in the parade.”
“Those floats are sick,” he conceded. “Next year?”
I nod, even though the thought of planning things with Damon that far in advance makes me a little lightheaded.
Things are going great. More than great, actually.
He’s at my place almost every night, and I may or may not have him as a favorite in my phone right under Morty.
This thing between us is…significant. And I’m still wrapping my head around whether that’s smart after the disaster with Andre.
Before I can spiral further, Denise comes through the door rolling two clothing racks.
Her purse is dangling from her neck in a way that must be cutting off circulation, and I rush over to help her.
Behind me, Cory pulls the racks the rest of the way through the door, then gives her a sweaty kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks, babe,” she beams. Those two are so gone for each other.
With his arm still slung around his girlfriend’s shoulder, Cory turns to me.
“So, are you ladies excited about Atlantic City in two weeks?”
I tilt my head in confusion.
“What’s in Atlantic City?”
“I haven’t asked her yet, babe,” Denise mutters through a clenched smile. Cory lifts his hands in apology on his way to the elevator.
“My bad.”
She rolls her eyes and turns to me.
“Sorry about that.”
“No biggie. So, what’s in Atlantic City?” I ask again.
“Camila’s bachelorette party,” she answers. I continue to stare blankly at her.
“Camila? Henry’s paralegal-turned-fiancée?”
“Oh, right!” I reply. I vaguely remember meeting her at the Park family’s July 4th party. “Why would she want me at her bachelorette? I’ve only met her, like, once.”
I reach for the nearest box, pulling off the packing tape in one satisfying rip. She reaches for another box beside me.
“I feel you. I’ve only met her a few times myself. But she’s marrying my boyfriend’s brother, who’s also my best friend’s husband’s brother. That means someday we might be in-laws.”
A kerfuffle at the door draws our attention to Cory standing stock still and wide-eyed.
He must’ve heard that last part. Surprisingly, he doesn’t look scared, just…
excited. I look to Denise to see if she’s equally unfazed about being caught talking about marriage by a man who’s yet to propose; she’s looking meaningfully into his eyes, a thousand words passing silently between them. Suddenly, I feel like the third wheel.
Just as I’m about to exit stage left, she turns to me.
“Also, Maya told me Adam told her that Camila doesn’t have a lot of girlfriends.”
She continues as if we weren’t just interrupted. As if she and her boyfriend shouldn’t go find a room somewhere and have a deeper conversation. I turn to find Cory once more bringing in boxes like nothing happened. Huh. I guess they’re done “talking”.
“She’s got her younger sister, but she practically raised her and her brother, and then she was busy working for Henry and going to law school at night. She’s a bit of a loner. Henry’s asking all of us to go as, like, a favor.”
“Ugh,” I whine, rolling my head like a petulant child. “Not a favor! I definitely owe Henry a favor too for all the help he was with my divorce.” I paid him, of course, but he went above and beyond.
She nods.
“And I feel bad for any woman who doesn’t have a group of girlfriends, since I have so many.”
“When exactly is this shindig that I’m obligated to attend?” I mutter, putting hangers on the rack with more force than necessary. Denise bites back a laugh at my antics and then gives me the date and time; of course I’m free.
“Maya and Tiffany will be there, too,” she offers. “It’ll be fun. You’ll see.”
I grumble under my breath a moment longer before resigning myself to my fate. I may not know the bride-to-be, but if the Three Amigas are there, there’s no way it won’t be fun.
“Speaking of wedding bells,” she starts with a sly grin, “it seems like I’m not the only one getting serious with one of the Park brothers.”
I gasp and slap her hand away from where she’s about to poke my side.
“You take that back! I’ve already been down the aisle once, and it was a disaster. I’m not rushing to make that trip again anytime soon.”
Denise sucks her teeth.
“Tell that to your face in those pictures on Thicc’s blog.” She pulls them up on her phone and hands it to me. “They’re worth a thousand words and then some.”
My eyes widen in shock. One of Thicc’s staff writers made a listicle of “All the Times Kendra Gray and Her New Beau Made Us Swoon!” and the pictures are…
Hot. They’re fucking hot.
Damon caught checking out my ass while holding the door to Death & Co
Me staring up at him adoringly as we walk through Washington Square Park
Damon feeding me a melon and prosciutto skewer at a premiere at Chelsea Cinemas
Us openly teasing each other while waiting to walk the red carpet
My mouth is dry, and my throat grows tighter with each picture. I swallow hard. We look like a couple in love. Is that what we are? That would explain why he’s the first person I text almost every morning, but…
“Ok, ok,” Denise says, speaking calmly and placing her hands on my shoulders. She walks me to a nearby chair and looks over her shoulder at Cory, who wisely steps out to give us some privacy.
“I can tell from your face that you’re panicking a little.”
“No, I’m not,” I say in a breathy voice I barely recognize. I’m clearly panicking. Denise gives me a knowing look.
“Is it because of your ex?” she asks carefully. “I saw his post about the Christmas wedding show.” She purses her lips. “It’s pretty tacky, if you ask me.”
I scoff.
“Andre’s the king of tacky. The bigger, the better.
In retrospect, our marriage felt more like a series of publicity stunts for the last few years.
” I drop my head and sigh. “In the beginning, though, it was all hearts and roses. We loved each other so much, getting married felt like the most natural thing in the world.”
Denise stays silent for a beat, rubbing my back.
“My bad for bringing up a sensitive subject,” she says gently.
“It’s OK,” I reply through a watery smile. “I’m just so scared it’ll all go to shit, just like it did before. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“You keep comparing Damon to Andre,” she says tentatively. “Other than the fact that they’re both crazy about you, do they have anything in common?”
When I don’t answer, she presses on.
“Does Damon treat you the way Andre did? Do you feel the same way when you’re together? Does Damon have the same values and goals Andre did?”
“No,” I whisper. I suck in a breath, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. “They’re nothing alike. Not even a little.”
She smiles at me, dropping her hand.
“You know, even when Cory and I admitted we were dating, it was hard not to treat him like just another New York player. His actions were different, but I was running the same old script.
“I’m not saying the article has it right, or that you have to feel something if you don’t or do something if you’re not ready, but maybe you can try to just be with Damon. Just for Damon. Not to prove anything to anyone or yourself.”
I release a long breath.
Just be with Damon. Don’t worry about Andre or the cameras, or whether I’m really ready to get serious with someone again. Whether I’ll ever get married again. Just…be with Damon. Something that’s been easy since the moment we met.
We finish unpacking the boxes, and Cory reappears from wherever he was hiding to help us break them down and reorganize the space. It looks great. It looks like the perfect place for my next chapter.