Natural Blond Instincts (7 page)

Kenna laughed. Ray shared her theory about color and attitude. “Black. Lots of black.”

“Oh.”

Ray looked so disappointed, she added, “But when I pointed out the lack of color, Wes wore a red tie one day and a light blue the next.”

“Really.” Ray's eyes went sharp. “How's it going with good old Mr. Weston Roth?”

Kenna shrugged.

“Oh, come on, you can do better than that. What does he look like?”

“How is that important?”

“Baby, baby.” He tsked. “A man's appearance tells a lot about him. Come on now, does he dress slickly or as if he never looks in a mirror? Does he stand up tall or slouch over? Does he yell at everyone when he's frustrated or remain calm?
These
are the things that tell you about the guy. So spill.”

“All right.” Kenna set her drink down and thought about Wes, which she hadn't wanted to do that evening because thinking about him had begun to cause so many conflicted emotions within her she was feeling a little unnerved.

And Kenna hated to be unnerved. “He dresses well, I suppose. If you like conservative.”

Ray shrugged.

“He definitely stands up tall and stays calm no matter what's happening around him.”

“Ooh.” Ray lifted a brow. “Sounds like a good match for you.”

“Stop it.”

“Is he mouth-watering?”

“I'm not kidding. You're taking away my appetite.”

Ray laughed. “He's mouth-watering.”

Kenna rolled her eyes. “We're changing the subject now—” Her cell phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and rolled her eyes again. “Why did I sign up for cell service again?”

“Who is it?”

“My father. My mother called yesterday. Clearly they've added me to their schedule, and are checking in with me in a way they haven't since I lived with them.” She clicked the phone on. “Hello.”

“Kenna. How's work?”

Right to the point. Wasn't that just like him. “Great. I'm great, too, by the way.”

“Terrific. You know next weekend I'm throwing my annual charity benefit. Everyone will be there. I just wanted to make sure you knew about it.”

Next weekend she'd planned to lie on the beach and read the financials for Mallory Enterprises from
the last few years.
Much
more fun than a fancy event. “I can't—”

“Not a word I want to hear, Kenna. See you then.” He hung up.

She stared down at the phone, then tossed it into her purse with an oath.

Ray grinned. “Good old dad. How close are you to getting back in the will?”

“I am not working at the hotel to get back into the will, you deranged man.”

“Why
are
you doing it?”

Yes, Kenna, why are you doing it?
“Because it's challenging. And because…”

“Because…?”

“Because I'm good at it.”

“Well, that's a disappointing answer.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Because, baby cakes, you should be doing it for the joy of it, for the pride, because you're crazy about it and can't imagine doing anything else.” He poured them both some more sake.

“That's why college was so much fun for you,” he said after a quick sip. “And that's why you've enjoyed every job you ever had, because you were crazy about it, at least at the time.” He smiled at her. “It's what makes you you, don't you know that?”

“I can be me without loving my job.”

“You can't be the best you that you can be.”

Kenna laughed. “You sound like a commercial for the armed forces.”

“I'm serious.” He pointed at her with his chopsticks. “A career requires passion. You, Kenna,
you
require passion.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“It's true,” he said gently.

“I'm missing my passion?”

“Yes.”

Oh my God, he was right. He was so right. Somehow, somewhere along the way, she'd really lost it. “How do I get it back?”

“Well, as I see it, you can do one of two things.”

“What?”

“Not what. Whom.” A slow grin split his face. “You can do Wes.”

“Ray!”

He laughed. “Kidding. But you do have to do something. Sorry, but you just have to figure it out on your own.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He grinned and toasted her with his sake. “You're ever so welcome.”

M
ONDAY MORNING
came along with a series of meetings. Kenna hit the first one armed with coffee and the realization that Ray had been right.

While this job excited her somewhat, and also challenged her, something
was
missing.

She gulped down some serious caffeine and tried to tell herself she was wildly passionate right this very minute. That today would be the day she left her mark on this corporation.

She sat at the conference table as everyone filed in for the last of the ongoing renovation discussions, and told herself that she was so passionate about this that any minute now she was going to get up and high-five everyone.

“Everything is going smoothly,” Wes said as he sat. “We have only two floors not currently ready for guests, and that's short-term.”

He wore a dark-gray suit today, big surprise. He looked at her through his glasses as he shrugged out of his jacket—

Exposing bright-yellow suspenders.

She grinned wide, and suddenly felt…a sparkle of passion.

“The decorators and Mr. Mallory have finally agreed on all the issues, and work commences today on both floors, which, as you know, are suites.”

Suites. Kenna knew what was missing from this hotel! “Do we have any themed suites?”

Everyone looked at her, and she smiled. “You know, like a sports theme or a movie theme or…a food suite. You could attract families, reunions…And think what a honeymoon suite would do for honeymooners.” She was so excited. “We could do a virgin decor, or a—” she grinned “—not-so-virgin decor.”

“I'm not sure that would fly,” Wes said.

Kenna looked around and saw a bunch of horrified faces.

“Our clientele—”

“Is not into virgin decor.” She sighed. “Right. I knew that.” Kenna set her pencil down and sat back.

And to think, she'd been bound and determined to make her mark today, one way or another. Or at least to take a solid step forward without running smack into the hard-headed, conservative wall of her father's will.

Not going to happen, and her passion went from sizzle to fizzle.

 

T
HAT EVENING
, Wes stopped by Kenna's office on his way out. She watched him as he dropped a file on her desk. “What's that?”

“Projected expenses for next quarter. I thought you'd like to look.”

Only more than taking her next breath. But she was tired of banging her head on the ten-foot-high brick Mallory wall. She tapped on the file. “Why should I?”

“What do you mean why?”

“What if something comes to me as I'm reading it? It seems to me that this place is a bit closed off to new ideas.”

“I'm not.”

“Please.” She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“I'm not,” he insisted, then let out a long breath. “Okay, I resisted the thought of you working here. I admitted that to you on day one.”

“Because you wanted this job for yourself.”

“Damn right I did. But we're sharing and I'm fine with that.”

“For now.”

“For now. Look, you're doing your job, you're not slacking, and I appreciate anyone who works as hard as you do,” he said.

“Really?”

“Yes.” He started to back out of her office. “And for what it's worth, I liked your themed suite idea.”

“Until I came to the honeymoon suite, you mean.”

His eyes lit with humor. “I just didn't think the board would approve of handcuffs and vibrating beds.”

She lifted a brow. “I never said a word about handcuffs or vibrating beds.”

Now his lips curved. “But you were thinking them.”

“And, apparently, so were you.” For some reason, this made her grin, too. “Uptight, regimented, controlled Mr. Weston Roth, sitting in a meeting thinking naughty little thoughts about handcuffs and vibrating beds. You're a very interesting man, Wes.”

“It's shocking, the depths to me, isn't it?”

Standing, she moved around her desk so they were face to face. “Shocking.”

“And by the way…I'm not uptight.” Suddenly his voice didn't sound board-room and even-keeled, but slightly rough and definitely silky. “The vote might still be out on the regimented and controlled part, but I'm definitely not uptight.”

“Good to know.” She slipped a finger beneath his suspenders and snapped them lightly against his chest, which she could feel was hard and smooth.

“You wore yellow. I'm impressed.”

“My contribution to the splash of color for the day.” He ran a finger over her shoulder and the bright-red suit jacket she wore.

Just that morning, standing in her hotel room in front of a mirror, she'd wondered about her need to wear something so bright, her need to stand out. What did it say about her that she expected every one else to conform and go with what she wanted, and yet she'd never considered conforming to the min any way? “I appreciate it.”

“I know.”

The air suddenly seemed to crackle, and unsure about that, she stepped back.

Right into her desk.

So did he. Right out of the office.

“'Night,” he said. “'Night.” She didn't take a breath until he was gone.

 

L
ATER IN THE WEEK
, Wes needed the files he'd given Kenna and, once again heading toward her office, he wondered what color she was wearing today.

He was really losing it.

“Can I help you?”

Serena. Man-hunting, man-hungry, man-trapping Serena. “No. I'm just looking for—”

“Me?” She smiled slow and inviting. “Well, I'm right here, silly. Right under your nose.”

“Actually, I'm looking for Kenna.”

“Oh,” she sighed. “I just saw her heading toward the elevators. I think she was going to grab lunch.”

For whatever reason, he went after her. He had no idea why, it wasn't like she was going to have his files on her.

When he got out to the parking lot in the midday heat, he immediately caught sight of her.

She was kicking her car. The back left tire to be exact. The back left
flat
tire.

“It works better if you fill it instead of kicking more air out of it,” he said.

Whirling, she looked at him, for one moment completely unguarded. Gone was the sassy, confident woman who could drive him crazy with one flash of her cocky smile. Instead, he saw things in the depths of her eyes that took him aback. Things like despair and frustration and a vulnerability he'd never imagined he'd see in this woman who seemed to have everything. “What is it?” He expected her to
tell him someone had just kicked her puppy or she owed half a million in back taxes. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” Right in front of his eyes she gathered herself, managing to cloak all emotion from him in the blink of an eye. The sweet vulnerability was gone.

“Do you need some help?” he asked.

“I can handle this.”

“So you know how to change a tire?”

“No. But dealing with you takes up too much energy, and I'm fresh out.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I don't feel like being
on,
Wes. Please. Just go.”

She didn't want to be
on?
Is that what she'd been doing with him all this time? Was he just now seeing the real deal? “Kenna—”

“Look, I'm exactly what you think I am, okay? Just a spoiled brat mooching off her father. So just go away and leave me to my spoiledness.”

“Ah, a pity party. Yeah,” he said when she jerked her head up and glared at him. “That's what you're doing, you're having a good old pity party.”

“Yes, well, some of us are rendered pathetic by flat tires. The some of us who haven't paid their AAA dues.”

“I know how to change a tire.”

“And that might help…if I had a spare.”

He sighed. Why the hell had he come out here? “I could drive you somewhere.”

“No.”

He nodded slowly, then turned away. If she was determined to handle this alone, then fine. Better than fine. He'd just—

“All right,” she said, accompanied by a loud sigh.

He turned back to her. “All right what?”

“All right, if you're really determined to be a hero…” She lifted a shoulder. “I guess I could use a ride.”

No,
said his brain.
God, no. Run like hell and don't look back.

“Yes,”
said another part of him entirely. “Where to?”

“I'll give you directions as we go.”

 

H
E OPENED
the door to his car for her. She'd often admired the forest-green vintage Jag that parked beside her. “Nice.”

“You'll notice it isn't black.”

She was not going to laugh with him, not today. “This won't take long.”

“No problem, as long as we take an extra few minutes to grab lunch.”

That was all she'd meant to do. Get some fast food, anything as long as it was good and fattening with lots of French fries on the side.

And also to make a quick side trip to pay back Sarah at the Teen Zone. She'd meant to do that over the weekend, yet for some reason she'd put it off. But she didn't want to put it off anymore, she wanted to pay off all her debts, every single one.

She glanced over at Wes, who was looking a little sorry that he'd agreed to this. “I won't bite.”

“Wasn't you I was worried about,” he muttered under his breath, and pulled out of the lot. He hit the gas and the car responded like the honey it was. “Where to?”

“A beach in the Bahamas sounds good.” She spoke lightly while her mind raced, trying to remember the way to the Teen Zone. It had been a while since she'd run out of gas in front of Sarah's place.

“Is that what you do to relax? Hang on a beach somewhere getting sun cancer?”

The last time she'd actually had the time to lie around had been in her childhood, but she had fond memories of frying herself in the sun, all in the name of a tan. “Oh yeah,” she said, tongue in cheek. “I lie around on the beach all the time. Dare I ask? What would
your
ideal trip be?”

“Something a little more adventurous then sun-bathing.” He downshifted for a red light. Bikinied women and buff men crossed the street, heading toward the beach.

Kenna leaned back and looked out the window at the flawless southern California day. “You're probably one of those.” She pointed to the crowd. “You're the guy that buzzes the bathing queens, flinging sand during a vicious volleyball game, or maybe just blocks their view with your surfing techniques.”

He laughed. That he had an adventurous spirit called to her, not that she'd admit it. “Good thing we're not doing anything stupid,” she said.

“Like?”

“Like dating.”

His jaw tightened. “Yeah.”

They drove in silence for a while after that, though Kenna would have paid to hear his thoughts since hers had left work long ago and were stuck on what she'd just said.

The thought of them going out.

It both made her wince and…yearn. “Um…turn right. Now left,” she said, biting her lip, trying to remember exactly… She pressed closer to the window as the rundown neighborhood came into view. “I don't know this place very well…”

“I do.” His voice was grim, making her glare at him but he kept his eyes on the road. “What are you looking for?”

“There.” She watched in relief as the Teen Zone came into view. “Pull over there.”

Old, vacant houses. Graffiti on everything nailed down. Wes didn't look thrilled. “This isn't—”

“Right here, that house on the corner.”

“Kenna—”

“Hold that thought,” she said quickly, hearing in his tone that he was uncomfortable, that he wasn't going to let her out of the car, not in this neighborhood. The moment he braked, she opened the door and leaped out, but because she didn't want him to follow her, she peered back through the open window.

His hair was windblown, his expression behind his glasses edgy and uneasy.

“I'll be right back,” she told him.

Surprising her, he reached out and grabbed her wrist. His fingers were long and strong, just like the rest of him, and she stared down, looking at his big, slightly callused hand on her smooth skin.

If she'd been one to worry obsessively, then she might freak out that one simple little touch could stop her in her tracks. Good thing she didn't worry obsessively. Much.

“This isn't a great neighborhood,” he said.

“I'll hurry.” She pulled free and started up the walk. Sarah's generosity had been on her mind, and she had a twenty-dollar bill burning a hole in her pocket. Something deep inside was desperately afraid Sarah wouldn't take the money, which would leave Kenna still in her debt.

Independence had become everything over the past years,
everything.
Already it had been greatly jeopardized when she'd accepted her father's job. She knew damn well she couldn't have gotten such a job on her own merit and experience, not yet anyway.

Then there was the man sitting in his car, looking at her as if she was something between a cross he had to bear and a morsel he'd like to nibble on.

Whether he realized it or not, she owed
him
as well. To her knowledge, despite how he felt about sharing the position and his doubts about her ability, he hadn't complained about her to her father, hadn't done anything other than accept her as is.

Sarah answered her knock and smiled her surprise. “Kenna. How lovely to see you. And to see you looking so well.” Her smile blossomed as she took in Kenna's long, flowing dress, which, while maybe a tad sexy only because the material clung to
her figure, was actually quite modest and definitely very unhooker-like. “I like the new look.”