Chapter twenty - six Damon
Chapter twenty-six
Damon
On my way out of the gym, I yank hard on the gate to the outdoor basketball courts, making sure it’s locked.
It doesn’t budge. I slip my keys into my back pocket and tighten my satchel across my chest for the long commute ahead, then do a double-take when I see a familiar car idling at the bottom of the school’s front steps.
“Hey stranger!” she calls out before her window is all the way down. I kiss her with smiling lips before opening the door and sliding in beside her.
“Hey Niko,” I greet Kendra’s driver. He nods at me in the rearview mirror before pulling away from the curb.
I tug Kendra close to me, loving the feel of her softness against my hard.
“Not that I’m complaining, babe, but what are you doing here? I thought you had a shoot uptown.”
She sits up from where she was nestled against my side.
“How is it you can wrangle twenty-five pubescent kids all trying to be the next Kobe, and still remember my schedule? Are you a wizard or something? Without Morty, I’d be helpless.”
I kiss the top of her head, unable to stop touching her, even with Niko so close.
“Habit, I guess. Overseas, we were always on the road. Buses, trains, flights. Being late meant getting benched, a hefty fine. Sometimes it meant being in breach of contract.”
“I had no idea,” she says, settling back against me. “Sounds a lot like my life, except you did it all on your own while I have a whole team helping me. In fashion, you’re lucky if you book another job if you get the reputation of being late. And if you miss a flight they’re paying for? Forget it.”
“You have to pay for your own travel?” I ask, playing with the loose strands of her hair.
“Sometimes, yeah. Especially when you’re just starting out. It’s like the overhead of being a model. Travel expenses are written into my contract now, though.”
“Ooh,” I whistle. “Impressive.”
We ride in companionable silence for several blocks, just enjoying holding each other, when I remember my unanswered question.
“Wait, you distracted me with your wily ways.” Kendra waggles her eyebrows at me, and I chuckle. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company and a ride home?”
“Oh, right!” she says with an excited clap. “OK, my friend, Daniela—I think you’ve met her before?” I nod. “She had reservations at Chef’s Table Brooklyn Fare, but she booked a job in Malta. She didn’t want them to go to waste, so she gifted them to me.”
“Brooklyn Fare?” I ask, puzzled. “Like, the grocery store?”
She rolls her eyes with a smirk.
“Mostly yes, but in the evenings, there’s a fine dining experience with two chefs cooking right in front of you, wine pairings, a curated menu—the works. This’ll be my third time going, actually. I went once with friends, and once with my Uncle Cordell.”
I grin back at her. I’m not one to turn down a delicious meal, especially with my favorite person.
“That sounds great, but I hope you don’t think you can just wine and dine me and you’re definitely gonna get lucky,” I tease. “I’m not that kind of man.”
Kendra bites her lip to keep from laughing.
“I’ll be sure to have you home by ten,” she answers, giggling.
I may actually propose marriage to this truffle risotto. As it is, I’m this close to revealing my inner caveman by using the bread to clean my plate. Kendra leans close to whisper in my ear.
“If we weren’t in public, I would totally lick the bowl.”
“Me too,” I nod. Instead, I pour us both more of the best wine my taste buds have ever experienced.
The servers set down the next course of balsamic brown sugar lamb chops. My mouth waters from the delicious aroma.
“Tell me more about your Uncle Cordell,” I suggest, marveling at how easily my steak knife slices through the tender meat. “You must be close to bring him out for a meal like this.”
A wide smile spreads across Kendra’s face.
“Uncle Cordell is the greatest. You remember Jeremiah from the tournament?” I bob my head. “He’s Jeremiah’s dad. My mom’s brother, actually. The only family I have left on that side.”
“Oh no. How did your mom pass?”
Kendra shakes her head, a small frown now marring her beautiful face.
“She’s not dead,” she says, her voice bitter. “At least, I don’t think so. She just left my dad when I was really little. Left us.”
I grip my fork harder to keep from dropping it. My mother is everything to me; the glue that holds our family together when Dad is being too harsh and my brothers get too caught up in their own shit. I can’t imagine her ever leaving us, especially not willingly.
“That sucks, Kendra. I’m so sorry.”
I’m shit at condolences. They feel fake, even when the sentiment is genuine. She waves me off.
“It was a long time ago. Anyway, when I was old enough, Uncle Cordell reached out. He said that just because his sister left, didn’t mean he was losing me.
Ever since that day, we’ve been in contact.
He was at my high school and college graduations.
He paid for my headshots after I’d researched the best photographer.
He even paid for my flight to my first international gig. Uncle Cordell’s the best.”
I try not to moan in ecstasy when the buttery texture of the lamb explodes on my tongue.
“It sounds like he’s your number one fan,” I surmise, chewing slowly to prolong the bite. Then something occurs to me. “Why wouldn’t your dad help with all the model stuff? Was he…? Was he not a good dad?”
Kendra’s never mentioned having issues with her dad, but our relationship—both friends and more than friends—is still new. To my relief, the haunted look when she talked about her mom isn’t there when she talks about her dad.
“He’s an OK dad. Mostly…out of touch.” She takes a sip of her wine. “When my mom left, I think he looked at me like a do-over. It feels like he uses me to fix all the mistakes he made in his own life.
“Modeling isn’t exactly a stable career path, so he made me get my degree. When I asked for a ride to a casting call, he said no. When I needed professional pictures, the answer was no. Even after I got my agent and booked several big gigs in a row, my dad kept waiting for me to come to my senses.”
She grins to herself.
“Uncle Cordell didn’t, though. He’s more like a father to me than an uncle. My dad has started trying lately, though. In his way.”
Next to me, Kendra resumes eating, having revealed more of the pain that shaped her into the complex woman she is. She’s told me about her attack, about her mom, about her dad. And I think it’s time I made myself vulnerable too.
I take a deep gulp of wine.
“Long before we met, I used to see you every day.” She turns to me, an eyebrow lifted in question.
“There was a billboard with your picture on it outside the window of my apartment in Spain. I was missing home, missing my family, trying to decide whether I should hang up my jersey for good or keep pushing for another year. During all that, your smile calmed me.”
I clear my throat, the red of embarrassment creeping up my neck. Here goes nothing.
“I got so used to seeing you, I even…waved sometimes on my way out in the morning. Or told you about my day when I got home.”
I can’t look at her, so I stare at my half-eaten plate.
“I know it was silly, but I felt less alone with you watching over me. And then I saw you in person—”
I finally glance up to see realization dawn on Kendra’s face.
“And you froze.”
I nod.
“I froze. Because how could you be real? How could my dream girl suddenly be standing right in front of me? And then you were so cool, too?” I shake my head. “I didn’t feel worthy of you. Not yet. Not until I had myself a little more together.”
As soon as the words are out, I immediately regret them. There’s vulnerable, and then there’s pathetic, and I passed pathetic somewhere around—
“I think that’s really sweet,” Kendra murmurs, taking my large hand in her small one. I keep my eyes averted.
“You don’t think that’s…creepy?”
She giggles, squeezing my hand to make me look up at her. She palms my cheek with a sweet smile.
“Of course it was creepy.” I choke on my wine, but she’s still smiling.
“So many people in my life who were supposed to be there forever, to support me, just weren’t. My mom. My dad. My ex.” Kendra sighs. “Maybe what you did was a little extreme, but it’s also kinda nice to have someone so into me for a change.”
She leans in and kisses me, but I’m too stunned to react.
“I’m into you too, by the way.”
When the paparazzi aim their cameras outside the restaurant, I don’t shy away. I pull Kendra into my arms, drop my head, and kiss the woman I love for all to see. She’s not a fantasy anymore; she’s my here and now, and I’m grabbing hold of her for as long as she’ll have me.