13. Kingston/Katherine
13
KINGSTON/KATHERINE
KINGSTON: DO YOU HAVE A PASTA MACHINE?
Gabe: I don’t even know what that is.
Kingston: it helps make pasta. You know, the spiral shapes or the spaghetti noodles.
Kingston: you guys aren’t gluten intolerant are you?
Kingston: I guess I could do zucchini noodles.
Gabe: zucchini noodles? face with a raised brow emoji
Kingston: or spaghetti squash...
Gabe: what the hell is spaghetti squash?
Kingston: not gluten intolerant, I take it.
Gabe: no.
Kingston: you could have just said so.
Gabe: and miss this vegetable education? Not a chance.
Kingston: so no pasta machine, huh?
Gabe: you’re lucky we have a can opener.
Kingston: roger that. rolling on the floor laughing emoji
I’ve seen his kitchen, though. He has far more than a can opener if the espresso machine is any indication. I wouldn’t be surprised if he has a private chef on retainer.
I brave the elevator, scrolling through the latest funny videos Katherine sent, and wave to the guys at the front desk. Outside, it’s partly cloudy and breezy, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it rains later. That’ll be nice. Rain slows everything down, sending people inside. I might be claustrophobic, but I don’t hate the idea of being trapped with Katherine.
I shouldn’t shop hungry, though, or I might end up buying half of William Sonoma. Since the home goods store is close to Katherine’s office, I shoot her a text.
Kingston: hey, I’m coming down your way. Wanna grab lunch?
Excitement buzzes through me when I see three dots bouncing along the bottom of the screen. It’s such a silly thing, but I secretly live for her attention.
I guess it’s not such a secret anymore.
Katherine: I’d love to, but I just sat down for brunch with your sisters.
Brunch?
On a workday?
I double-check the date and time on my watch.
Kingston: tell them I said hi.
Good for her. It’s not that I want her to skip school, so to speak, but I’m glad she’s doing something to make herself happy. As wild as the last few days have been for me, I know they’ve been far tougher for her.
She hides it well, but down deep, she’s always been a sensitive soul. I love that she’s close to my sisters. They adopted her as an honorary Saint years ago. My chest tightens. While I appreciate that my family has always been there for Kat, been good to her and shown her what a family should be like, I hate that her relationship with her parents has been so rocky.
A cab careens around the corner, and I step back onto the sidewalk as my fellow pedestrians shout and raise their fists.
New York. Wouldn’t be a normal day if you didn’t see your life flash before your eyes.
My gaze lifts to the buildings. So familiar and yet so foreign.
How long until the unease sets in? The itch to get away and travel. I haven’t felt a single twitch yet aside from the love/hate relationship with the elevator.
With the coast clear, I jog across the street amid a crush of others.
What could be a bigger adventure than falling for the girl of your dreams? And this. . . situationship with Alex and Gabe? That’s definitely keeping things interesting.
My phone gives a trilling chime. Haven’t heard that sound in a while. After making sure I won’t plow anyone over, I check the notification. It says Katherine is close by.
Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all morning.
Katherine
The club is as posh as always—bountiful flower arrangements, gleaming woodwork, glittering chandeliers, and impeccable wait staff. And the best brunch this side of Central Park.
Melina, Mel for short, rushes through the round tables and plops into the chair across from me. “Sorry I’m late.”
Her dark hair is sun-kissed, as is her complexion, and she has her mother’s big, brown eyes.
“We haven’t been here long,” I assure her.
“No worries. Ava was telling us about the swing dancing class she took,” Sophia says, a mischievous smirk gracing her painted lips. Always a bold red for Soph. In fact, it’s her signature color. Designed and named for her.
It’s good to have parents who own a cosmetic empire, I guess.
Mel perks up. “Oh? How’d that go?”
“Such a good workout. I might keep going,” Ava says, reaching for her water glass.
I can’t imagine being that free. Just letting my body do whatever. I mean, I know there are steps and choreography, but if it’s not a basic waltz, it didn’t exist when I was growing up.
My Bellini arrives, and I take a thankful sip. Hopefully, the alcohol will take the edge off my nerves.
“You guys should come with me,” Ava says.
My gaze collides with Soph’s. I can almost read her mind. That sounds like hell.
She’s not wrong.
Then again, I’m tired of living in the shadows my grandfather cast. Ford’s always reminding me how much life there is to live.
He’s not wrong either.
“Could we arrange for private lessons?” I ask.
Ava squeals, drawing attention from nearby tables. She has the grace to duck her head and lower her voice. “Of course. Come on, Soph. It’ll be fun.”
“Which of your hunky guys will you bring?” Mel asks, turning her focus to me.
All the attention turns my way.
My hunky guys. What would they say if they knew just how close the four of us have gotten? It’s all fun and games now, but the instant they learn the truth... My stomach sours, and I take another long sip from my glass.
“What? You knew we were going to ask,” Ava says.
I sigh, hands in my lap, my nervous system on overload. This week has been a lot. The auction. Gabe’s half-livable beach house. That life-altering threesome. Learning the truth about Gabe’s history with Grandfather. Learning the truth about Kingston .
“Kingston!” Mel hops up from the table.
Did I say that out loud?
The back of my neck tingles with awareness.
Nope. He’s here. He has to be.
I crane my neck, glancing back to see Mel scooting between tables to hug her brother. His eyes lock with mine over her shoulder, and my insides melt. My heart lifts. My soul sings.
He’s totally underdressed but obviously doesn’t care. Striding forward, he grins at me with the easy smile that I have had to hide my reaction to for years.
I don’t think there’s any hiding it anymore.
We make room for him, and I feel his sisters’ attention ping-ponging between the two of us, noting how close he sits.
“We were just asking Katherine who she was going to bring to swing dancing class.”
Kingston grins, easy confidence dripping from every pore. “Me, of course. I saw Alex and Gabe’s moves last night and?—”
My eyes go big, realizing what he’s about to say. What he’s implying.
“Their moves?” Ava parrots.
“We all know I’m the athletic one,” King amends. “Where’s the class?”
Good save.
“Who cares? I want to hear about the auction,” Mel says.
“No,” I groan the word.
“Such a bummer your flight was delayed, K,” Ava says to her brother.
“Yeah, let’s not remind me of that.”
Soph watches and listens. Mel and Ava might be the instigators, but I’d bet every dollar in my bank account that Sophia Saint is putting two and two together right now and getting four.
They chatter for a few more minutes, discussing Memorial Day plans and all the weddings Mel will be in this summer. I’m just glad to not be the center of attention.
Because even though I knew they’d want to discuss the auction, and even tease me about Kingston, I don’t have the first clue what to tell them. Are we hiding what’s between us? Surely, we have to. But from everyone?
We need to figure that out because right now, this doesn’t feel like my secret to tell.
“I should go,” King murmurs.
“You don’t have to,” Mel says.
“I’ve got some shopping to do.”
“Shocker.”
“See you when you get home from work,” he directs at me, and my jaw falls.
I was headed back to my apartment after this and figured I’d tell him then about the latest developments with my mom.
“What?” He glances at each of his sisters and then back to me.
The knots in my stomach tighten. He’s gonna be pissed. Rightly so. I’m not exactly numb to the bullshit; I’ve just lived with it for so long that it’s like I expect the subterfuge. My mother’s tricks. My grandfather’s whims.
Those soft green eyes implore me to tell him the truth. He’s sweetly curious but steadfast.
“My mom told me to take a vacation.”
His brows lift. “Because of our picture?”
I nod, then roll my eyes. “She met with the board. They think I’m bringing bad press to the company.”
“None of this is your fault.”
His reassurance is like a warm blanket. Cozy. Perfect.
“I know.”
“For how long?”
I shrug. Honestly, I’ve got bigger issues than my job at Chanler & Cort.
“I can’t believe she created this mess, and she’s making you the fall guy.”
“Can’t you, though?” I can one thousand percent believe it.
Everyone falls silent because we all know the truth. They’ve lived it with me.
“I mean, yeah, I guess I can.”
“Totally,” Mel says.
“What are you going to do?” Ava asks.
There’s a lightness in me I’ve never felt before. Freedom? Something. Something addictive.
“For now, whatever I want. Brunch with friends.” I smile at them.
“That can’t be legal,” she murmurs.
“When has that stopped her?” When it comes to rules, my mother is very much her father’s daughter.
King crosses his arms over his chest. This isn’t over for him. That’s the sign that his stubborn streak is about to come out. I slide my hand up his thigh and give him a reassuring squeeze.
“There are worse things in the world. This isn’t anywhere near the top of the list. We all know that. So let’s just forget about my family’s drama and enjoy our day, okay?”
“You shouldn’t have to ignore it. They shouldn’t start it,” he grumbles, hand covering mine.
I give a sad laugh. “I think it’s too late for her to change.”
As the words leave my lips, a thought pierces through the fog. It might be too late for my mom to change, but it’s not too late for me to change.
Kingston
After I say my goodbyes and give Katherine a forehead kiss that has my sisters gasping, I head out, leaving them to gossip and do whatever else girls do at brunch.
I reach for my phone, look up the nearest smoothie spot, and head in that direction. I could have stayed and ordered with them, but I wasn’t exactly invited. Besides, the pasta’s not going to make itself.
Stabbing the text icon with my thumb, I change the group text name again. This time to Three Guys and a Lady.
Lips twitching, I send them a text.
Kingston: I fucked up.