Chapter 21
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
K ellen
The look on her face tells me I’ve shocked her with my confession. I haven’t been trying to hide what I’m feeling, but that’s about as obvious as I’ve been with her since our time at the resort.
“Don’t want what?” she asks, shaking her head.
“Us to go our separate ways.”
Her expression morphs into one of pure unhappiness. “Don’t act like you didn’t abandon me back at that resort, Kellen. I was just another in a long line of women for you.”
I shake my head, hating that she believes that about our time together. “That’s not true. You were different, Salem.”
“Sure. Why is it I don’t believe you?”
Feeling we need a joke to lighten the mood, I smile and say, “Because you’re a skeptic when it comes to men?”
Salem rolls her eyes. “It’s not skepticism when the truth is you’re a player, Kellen. It’s okay. It’s not a crime, although your little tryst with Gina is causing you trouble right now. I’m sure you’ll come out of it fine, though. I’ll do my work. Your lawyers will do their work. And you’ll return to the world as a man women want.”
She turns and walks away, but I’m not ready to give up just yet. I follow her back into the house and say, “I’m not claiming I wasn’t looking to have a good time when I met you. That’s not a crime, Salem. Adults get to do that. It’s actually one of the best parts of being an adult since the rest of our days are filled with work and bullshit. So I’m not claiming I wasn’t that player, as you call me. That doesn’t change the fact that you were different.”
That makes her stop, and when she looks back at me, I see I haven’t convinced her at all. “Are you saying you treated me better than you usually treat women? You left me standing alone in your villa, completely confused about where you could be and then having to admit you left me. You left me standing there, Kellen, while you snuck off to your private jet to escape. So what do you usually do with women? Poison them? Stab them just as they’re orgasming? Do tell me because if I’m so different, I’m truly curious how you usually act with women.”
“You’re twisting my words. You know what I mean.”
I leave out the part about not having the company jet when I flew down to the Turks and Caicos. That little detail is not going to help me now.
Her eyes open wide, and she shakes her head. “Trust me, I have no idea what you mean when you say I was different.”
She can refuse to believe me all she wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that she was different. Is different. I’ve never cared for someone like I do with her. I’ve never admired a woman like I do her.
But after what I did leaving her at the villa and the whole Gina problem, it’s likely she’ll never trust what I say. I’ve never regretted anything as much as I do those two mistakes.
Needing something to defuse this situation between us, I give her a smile and say, “You just are. If you can’t admit that it’s possible I’m not the world’s biggest asshole, at least admit you want pizza and cupcakes. Can we at least agree on that?”
“Fine.”
Not exactly the answer I was hoping for, but at least she didn’t storm away. That’s something.
“I’ll order the pizza from this place I know since I was a kid. Assuming I’m still on house arrest, either you or Bigfoot are going to have to go pick it up.”
“Why can’t we just get it delivered?” she asks with suspicion filling her voice.
Shrugging, I answer truthfully, “I don’t know if they have delivery. You’re not in the city now. Out here, it’s a different world. We always picked it up, but I can ask when I call.”
“Just let me know. I have work to do, so if I have to go get the food, give me a head’s up.”
And with that, she walks away, leaving me deflated and sure even if I do somehow get back in the good graces of everyone else in the world, Salem is never going to see me as anything but that shithead who ghosted her.
I really am an asshole sometimes.
After learning Sal’s Pizza delivers, I order two large pies, one with crumbled sausage and green peppers and one with pepperoni for me to eat the rest of the week. I want to go to Salem’s office and talk to her, feeling like I need to explain myself so she doesn’t think I’m the bad guy I seem to be.
The only problem is I don’t have a good excuse for what I did with her. What I did with Gina was pure lust. I freely admit that. What I did when I left Salem at the villa was just me being stupid. I didn’t know how to explain to her what was going on. It was no more than that.
I was right worrying about how she’d see me knowing I was being accused of sexually harassing a woman. Salem doesn’t look at me the way she did down in the islands. There she liked the man she saw in front of her.
Now she looks at me like a project she needs to complete. Or worse, a villain she reluctantly has to help.
Neither one is a good look for me, I’m guessing.
I need to find a way to make her remember how she felt at the villa with me. I know I can. I just haven’t figured out how to do that yet.
An hour later, some tall, lanky kid wearing earbuds comes to the front door bobbing his head. “Pizza,” he says too loudly, stating the obvious.
“Yeah. Thanks,” I say as I grab the two boxes out of his hands.
“Have a good one,” he mumbles before walking away.
From his lips to God’s ears.
The delicious scent of tomato sauce and melted mozzarella cheese floats up through the holes in the cardboard boxes to my nose, and I close my eyes to take it in. It never fails. Whenever I smell Sal’s pizza, I’m transported back to my childhood when my mother would bring home five different pizzas, one for each of us since all five of us kids liked different toppings.
A memory of that pineapple and ham smell from Theo’s pizza that used to make me sick to my stomach flashes through my brain, and for a moment, I’m back in the kitchen at the old house begging him to not stick one of those disgusting slices under my nose. He always did, and I always had to run down the hall to the bathroom because I was sure I was going to throw up.
That memory includes Ava seated right next to him telling Theo to stop teasing me and him just laughing and telling her he was only fooling. Strange that I should remember that.
“You okay? Something wrong with the pizza?” Salem asks, and I open my eyes to see her staring at me oddly.
I guess it’s not surprising since I probably appear to be having a moment with our dinner.
“No, all good. Just?—”
Unsure how to explain what I was doing, I stop talking. She shakes her head and walks away toward the kitchen, so I follow her, promising myself I’ll do better at having a conversation with her over dinner.
Assuming she’s willing to talk to me.
When I catch up to her, she’s setting out plates and silverware for our meal. Placing the boxes down on the stove, I joke, “You aren’t one of those people who eats pizza with a fork and knife, are you? I’m not sure we can ever speak again if you are.”
She glances over at me and I see her eyes are narrowed to angry slits. So much for changing the mood.
“We don’t have to speak if you don’t want to, but yes, I use a fork and knife when it’s too hot so I don’t burn my mouth,” she says sharply.
I’m already striking out here, so I need to come up with some way of making her not hate me. The story about Ronan and pizza will definitely help me do that.
“My youngest brother, the one who was wearing the black T-shirt the other night at the house, always insisted on taking a bite of his pizza when it was still way too hot, and then he’d end up spitting it out halfway across the room.”
“Sounds delightful,” Salem says with a look of pure disgust. “By the way, Nathan said he didn’t want any pizza, but he might grab a slice later.”
So much for charming her with a story from my childhood. People always love that Ronan and the hot cheese story. Maybe I should have gone more in depth with it.
“He’d clean it up. It’s not like we were total barbarians growing up,” I add.
Salem levels her gaze on my face and stares at me for a few seconds before saying, “You grew up in a mansion. I’m sure someone was there to pick up all your messes. That’s what servants do for billionaires.”
I lift out two slices of sausage and pepper pizza and set them on a plate. Handing it to her, I correct her error about my life growing up. “They weren’t servants. That’s not what life was like.”
She takes the plate without even a thank you and groans. “That’s, of course, what a billionaire would say. You had people working for you who were charged with cleaning up after you. That’s a servant.”
I’m quickly losing my appetite and know I should end this conversation, but nothing bothers me more than hypocrisy. I don’t know what this sudden intense dislike for wealth is, but I’m not going to be shamed for who I am.
What I’ve done in my life is one thing, and I understand a lot of my behavior isn’t justifiable, but who I am isn’t something I’ll shy away from defending.
I take a couple pieces of sausage pizza for myself and drop the plate down in front of where I plan to sit. That gets her attention, and she jerks her head up to glare at me.
She wants to have it out on this topic? So be it.
“Yes, there were people who worked for my family. Quite a few, in fact. One who’s worked the longest for us is Eleanor, and while she did help my mother with the cooking and the cleaning, she was never considered a fucking servant. She was a member of the family and still is, as evidenced by the fact that she still lives at the house now that it’s only Matthias and Ava there. I don’t know why you suddenly have an issue with what my family’s net worth is, but I notice you didn’t have an issue with any of that at the resort.”
Salem’s mouth drops open and then she looks down at her plate. When she doesn’t say anything for nearly a minute, I add, “Don’t like having your beliefs and who you are attacked, huh?”
She turns her head and stares at me for a long moment before replying. “I wasn’t trying to attack anything about you. You’re right, though. I had no problem enjoying the benefits of your money back there. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven. Now let’s enjoy our dinner before the pizza gets cold. I notice the sausage looks extra crumbly.”
That finally brings a smile to her face, and I swear it makes the whole room light up. “Did you tell them to make it extra crumbly? If so, thank you.”
I laugh and shake my head. “I wish I could take credit for that, but I didn’t know sausage could be extra crumbly, so I didn’t realize I could ask for it that way.”
“Well, it looks great. I hope it tastes as good as it looks because I’m starving.”
I take a bite and savor the warm tomato sauce and cheese on the best crust in the world. It’s like being transported back in time to when life was easy and happy.
“It tastes as good as it did when I was a kid. You can have all the pizza in the city. Sal’s is the only one for me.”
She begins to eat hers and smiles. “This is really good.”
“Damn straight it is. We had some good things out here in the hinterlands. I mean, other than being waited on hand and foot in our huge mansion.”
Salem’s smile fades, replaced by a frown at my jab. “I’m sorry, Kellen. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“You’re forgiven. You know, having money doesn’t make people bad. My brothers are good guys. You like them. I’m a bastard, but it has nothing to do with being wealthy. I’m just a shitty person.”
She drops her pizza onto her plate and shakes her head. “No, you’re not, and I know you know that too. I get it. I was being a jerk.”
“So I’m not a bad guy? Has the world been alerted to this change?”
That makes her beautiful smile return. “Why yes, it has, in fact. I’ve been telling anyone who’ll listen that you aren’t public enemy number one.”
“I know,” I say, nodding because I do understand how hard she’s been working to clear my name. “And thank you.”
We fall silent as we eat the rest of our dinner, but when we finish, I know it’s time I finally give her an explanation for what I did to her. She deserves to know my leaving the villa that day had nothing to do with her or anything she said or did.
As usual, it was all me fucking up a good thing.
In the distance, a rumble of thunder sets the tone for what I need to confess. I’ve waited too long to say the words she deserves to hear, and it’s damn time I set the record straight.
“Salem, I’m sorry about walking out on you at that resort. It was wrong to do that, and I know you probably still want to slap me across the face for being such a shithead. Feel free. I deserve it. I just want to say that it wasn’t anything to do with you. I left because I didn’t know how to tell you the truth.”
I stop and let out a heavy sigh as I hang my head. “That I’d created a mess back here and had to return home because it was blowing up and Matthias demanded I handle things. I figured you wouldn’t want anything to do with a man who was being accused of sexually harassing someone at work.”
She surprises me when she asks, “Why would you care what I thought? We didn’t even know one another’s names. We were just two people having a good time, weren’t we?”
“I guess I was doing more than that, even if I didn’t consciously know it at the time.”
“So it wasn’t just a wham, bam, thank you ma’am thing down there for you?” she asks, just as surprised as I am.
With a chuckle at how surreal this feels, I shrug. “Go figure. The player caught some feelings there.”
“There are worse things, you know.”
“Like having the entire world hate you for something you didn’t do?” I ask, looking into her blue eyes for some answer that doesn’t make me feel like shit.
Salem stands from the island and grabs another slice of pizza. “Don’t worry about that. You’ve got the best fixer in the business working on your situation. Trust her. She’s damn good.”
She’s even better than damn good. Now if I can get her to want me the way she did back at that villa I’d be the happiest man on earth.