Chapter 45
Mari
I twist the ring on my index finger, trying desperately hard to focus on the low salsa music in the restaurant instead of recounting Kas’s interview.
I’m going to live with Kas after this. I’ll have a home.
An empty room, sure. But it’s still a home.
After filing a no-contact injunction application against Isaac, I hoped that strenuously selecting an outfit that would adhere to the dress code of this fancy restaurant Davina booked weeks ago would serve as a distraction from my excitement about living with Kas and never hearing from Isaac again.
My heart is still erratic as I glance around the flagship restaurant, tapping my nails on the polished silverware. The backlit panels on the walls provide a much-needed ambience to calm my nerves.
Devon adjusts the puffed sleeve of Violet’s dress and she pats Devon’s hand away to glance furtively at me while huffing out a tuneless, airy whistle. After giving them a rundown of the Isaac situation, I told them that his name is banned from the table.
“This is a good song,” Devon says, swirling the red wine in his glass and taking a sip.
“Yeah, I like the ... cowbells,” Violet says.
I smirk at their awkwardness and take a sip of my wine.
Violet sits a couple of seats away from me, her outfit screaming “class” with a red, square-necked dress and regal puffed sleeves. Devon rests his suited elbow on the back of her upholstered chair and twiddles the loose strands of hair she’s kept out of the updo I did for her. His golden cufflinks artfully match Violet’s earrings with the same geometric, hexagonal pattern—they’re the perfect pair.
A warm breeze plows through the restaurant when Kas, Dash, and Bill walk in. I peek at Kas over the lip of my glass; he’s sheathed in a well-fitted three-piece suit in a shade of blue darker than midnight, but not quite black. Every sliver of fabric has been stitched to perfection and encases Kas like a gift ready for me to rip open.
Jesus.
I drink him up as eagerly as I do with my wine. On the final gulp, I press my fist against my mouth to swallow down a burp and busy my hands with an ironed napkin by laying it across my lap.
Kas says something to the host and points in our direction before placing the same hand in the pocket of his suit pants. His eyes cling to me and travel down my body, taking in my olive-green minidress as much as he can until the table obscures his downward perusal.
The fluttering in my stomach upheaves into a nauseating churn with each wide step he takes. He ignores the looks of the other restaurant guests and fidgets with the knot of his tie.
The circular table has four available chairs; one is empty in Davina’s absence and two out of the remaining three are on either side of me. Bill takes the one on Devon’s left, and Dash fills the one on Bill’s left. That leaves seats on my immediate left and right.
My purse sits on the chair to my left and, without hesitation, Kas moves it and sits down with a relieved sigh. His sleeve skims my arm, and I inhale his familiar bergamot odor.
“You look beautiful, Mari.” Kas’s tone is breathy and unfeigned. I twist in my seat so I’m angled toward him. He examines me with thorough sweeps of my body, eyes bouncing like he doesn’t know what part of me he should focus his attention on. “Wow,” he murmurs.
I tug absentmindedly at the hem of my skirt, aware of how high it is on my thigh. My breath catches when Kas places a large hand over my fumbling one and presses it on the bare skin of my thigh.
“You look great, so handsome. I love the three-piece.”
Kas’s cheeks tinge pink.
Our interaction is briefly severed when a waiter returns to ask the newcomers if they want some recommendations from the restaurant’s sommelier.
“You feeling better?” Kas asks quietly after giving his order.
I flinch when his fingers squeeze my hand under the table. It encourages me to nod.
“Much better,” I answer with the same volume. “You’ll never believe what my cousin did.”
“What did Quinn do?”
“Quinn hate-stalked Isaac’s socials and when she saw he was on vacation, she and a friend decided to grab all of my most important things. You know, hard drives, USBs, prints, photo albums.”
“That’s fantastic to hear!”
The table glances over at Kas’s over-enthusiastic response before turning back to their conversations. Bill is the one person that lingers for a moment. Kas clears his throat when Bill continues talking Devon’s ear off.
“I’m glad Quinn did that,” Kas says with his usual measured tone. “What about the other things?”
“Yeah ...” My heart thumps harder. “They’re gone. Honestly? It’s a relief knowing I can start fresh without the items that remind me of Isaac. I just need to figure out how to afford replacing everything.”
“Don’t worry about it. When we get back, I’ll help you out, so will Devon.”
A rising warmth threatens to propel a shriek of excitement from my throat.
The waiter returns to take our food orders and places an old-fashioned in front of Dash, who speaks after a quick sip. “Shall we address the elephant in the room or sit here like fucking idiots until someone—me—is brave enough to ask if Mari and Kas are actually together?”
Nobody replies until Violet speaks up first. “They’re not together,” she blurts.
My brows furrow in confusion. When Violet winks at me, I quickly realize that she’s keeping that damn promise from the other day.
A smile grows on Devon’s face and he grins at Violet. “Yeah, they’re not together,” he agrees.
“So you’re just living together as friends?” Dash says with a disappointed shake of his head. “Is that it?”
“Is there a problem?” I argue.
Dash trails his finger over the condensation-coated glass. “I guess I just ... I thought. Oh, never mind.”
“Mari’s ex-boyfriend has kicked her out of her home, and you’re concerned about her relationship with Kas?” Bill says.
He goes back and forth with Dash. Like most of their conversations, the topic changes between every exchange—Kas and me are soon forgotten.
My eyes find the side of Kas’s face, curious about his reaction to the animated conversation between Bill and Dash. He smiles and focuses on his phone when it vibrates on the table.
I glance over to see a notification from Leo (Gym), the name of one of Bill’s stepchildren. Kas taps the notification, and his screen shows a message that forces me to grip the edge of the tablecloth until my palms ache and a cramp begins to form in my fingers.
Leo (Gym): Yeah, I picked up Quinn. She lives close to me, Chandler Area.
Kas is much better at using his phone than a few weeks ago. Unfortunately, he doesn’t use it enough to realize that other people can see his screen if they’re sitting next to him.
“Why is Leo messaging you about Quinn?” I ask.
Kas locks his phone and looks into the distance. “No idea.”
He forces a laugh that is so fake, it makes my anger rise.
“But he’s messaging you about her. He’s obviously messaging you for a reason.”
“I don’t know, Mari.” Kas’s voice is strained.
The phone lights up again.
Quinn (Mari’s Cousin): Got some stuff :) Leo helped bring it in, he’s strong AF. Yum.
“You don’t know?”
Kas’s mouth opens and closes like he’s fighting against himself to speak.
What the fuck is Kas doing talking to and about my cousin? And why didn’t Quinn say anything when she called earlier?
I fan myself and shake my head. I need to freshen up, and I need to message Quinn.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I announce.
“Are you okay?” Violet asks.
I nod, throw my napkin on the table, and excuse myself. I hear Violet question Kas as I walk away. I make my way down three sets of steep stairs, losing count partway and just blindly walking around until I find some sort of bathroom.
I scan the two empty stalls and tilt my head up to the ceiling where a small chandelier hangs before shooting a message to Quinn.
Me: Who is Leo to you and what’s going on with Kas?
I turn on the faucet, cup my hands under the cold water, and release the handful. I can’t even splash some cold water over my face because it’ll mess up my makeup. I jump when the bathroom door slams open. I audibly sigh when I see the familiar dark suit.
“Mari.” Kas’s blindingly blue eyes are pleading. “I need you to hear me out.”
“Hear you out? Why would I hear you out when you claim to know nothing?” I’m sick of heated conversations in public bathrooms, even if this one is much nicer than Wilmer’s. “You’re lucky there isn’t a big metal trash can in here,” I warn.
Kas leans against the counter and tips his head back. “Quinn is going to kill me for this.”
My eyes launch to my hairline. “Since when have you become all buddy-buddy with my cousin?”
“Since last week. You’re impossible to keep secrets from.” Keep secrets from?
Kas paces back and forth in front of me, placing both palms on either side of the sink. I have to look away because seeing him hunched over the sink reminds me of when I caught him touching himself and when we were both bent over one the first time we—
Is there anything that doesn’t remind me of him?
Kas’s sigh transforms into a ragged breath. “We’re replacing your things,” he whispers.
The tears clogging my throat are replaced by my heart. “What?” I choke out.
Kas watches me, assessing the twisting of my hands and the nervous biting of my lip. He hesitates for a breath before pulling his phone out of his suit jacket and scrolling.
“It was meant to be a surprise,” he explains, showing me a video.
My eyes dart across the screen. The first thing I recognize when the video plays is Quinn’s voice, the last thing I see is the bedroom that she’s in. It’s filled with random furniture, including a mattress propped up against the wall and a vintage-looking desk that I instantly fall in love with.
She pans the camera around to Leo—who she refers to as a “man with a van”—and films herself opening a quarter-filled closet with clothes that are definitely my style. She explains that they’re a mixture of thrifted and designer and thanks Kas for being good at navigating stocks and shares because he’s sending her all the money for this.
The rest of the bedroom shows my box of prints and hard drives, and Auntie and Unc setting up some family photos on the dresser. The video ends a couple of minutes later with Quinn describing it as my “new home.” I press Kas’s phone to my chest, as if connecting the video to my frenzied heart.
“Kas . . .”
With one heaving breath, he looks down at me with a gaze that has me melting in front of him. “You complain about something, you tell me about an inconvenience, and I do something about it because I fucking can.” Kas reaches out for me and brushes his finger tenderly over my jaw before cupping it in his hand. “I do it because I care, and caring for you gives me purpose that I’ve struggled to find the entire time we’ve been here. Purpose that I haven’t been able to find in a fight against Fletcher Ward.” Our chests heave together, hearts pumping in tandem. “That was meant to be a surprise. We’ve not had much time to find replacements for the things Isaac threw out. It’s not much, but it’s a work in progress.”
Relief etches itself into Kas’s features. His shoulders drop with released tension and his pressed lips unfold to reveal that plump lower lip I itch to press mine upon.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
I repeat the words until my tone becomes firm and my body propels forward with unfeigned gratitude that I muster from every part of my being. Kas cups his hand around the back of my head and pulls me into his suited chest.
The salsa music remains, only interrupted by some distant sizzling and bashing pots and pans from the open door of the restaurant kitchen I walked past to get here.
I should feel some sort of anger about him and my family taking it upon themselves to do all of this. So I wait. I wait for the negative emotions to filter in and for the hatred to seep into my bones. Instead, my shock dissipates into relief.
Kas likes immediate fixes and moving out was just that. A fix. A solution.
“You told Quinn you wished you could move out of Isaac’s, and then you cried into my chest and you said that the thought of going home makes you sad. You said it makes you fucking sad , Mari.” He pins me with a gaze so sincere that my heart aches. “You just expect me to hear that and do nothing?” he adds quietly.
“Yes, Kas, of course I expected you to do nothing.”
I expected him to do nothing and yet my shoulders slouch in relief, my pounding heart subsides, and the thought of going home is no longer a foreboding shadow that casts itself over my life.
“I—” I can’t even bring myself to hate that he’s done this. Kas doesn’t just care for me, what he’s doing is coming from a place of unfettered love. “Do you love me?” I blurt.
Fixing my camera, getting this job, paying for my part of the trip, giving me a day off for my birthday, helping me with my hair, moving me out of my apartment. Does anyone do these things outside of love?
My stomach churns as I await his answer.
Kas shifts and scratches the corner of his lip. “ I really like you, Mari. I don’t know if it’s love because I’ve never been in love.” His body vibrates with a shuddering breath. “But if love is refusing to let you go back to a home where you can’t heat up your auntie’s food, then I’m in love with you.”
Sincerity radiates from within Kas’s gaze, and it’s so genuine that looking into his gentle eyes has my hands rushing to my eyes to wipe away tears before they fall.
“What the hell? What the hell, Kas.” Kas knows how to turn up the heat, and when I’m just about to boil over, he knows exactly when to turn it down too. “Then I love you too,” I breathe.
The words feel right because this wasn’t about the seven weeks of me being Kas’s social media manager—it was about the quiet moments in between.
Moments where we’d laugh and cry with each other in the dead of night, where we’d recount our traumas and childhoods to discover my auntie playing significant roles in both. This was more than a job, it was about discovering my person.
Kas is my person, and I want to show that I’m his person too.