Authors: Prescott Lane
“Sorry,” Deacon says, shifting his eyes to Kenzie. “I didn’t see you there.”
Besides the tight little smile she gives him, Kenzie doesn’t respond. The three of us continue down the corridor, with Deacon talking about which plays the Cowboys should run to start the game, then segueing into his description of some ridiculous segments he plans to air on the morning news next week. He’s dead serious describing them; they aren’t ridiculous to him at all. I’m only half-listening, if that, to his stupidity.
My mind is on Kenzie, and what was behind those eyes. I don’t think she’s too upset Deacon mentioned Lily, which is a relief. I think she’s more rattled seeing Deacon again. Maybe I should’ve given her a heads up that he’d be here, but I didn’t want her to stress about it. Deacon really is harmless. In fact, it’s more likely he’s scared of Kenzie.
We reach the suite together, and Kenzie squeezes my hand—hard. “We’ll see you inside in a few minutes,” I tell Deacon. He smirks at me then disappears inside. Clearly, he thinks it’s funny that Kenzie’s panties are in a twist.
“I’ve got to spend the whole game with Deacon?” she asks.
“The suite holds like fifty people,” I say. “It won’t be a big deal. Besides, I’m hoping you can get used to Deacon, and I want you to meet my mom. She’s here with my stepdad.”
“
What
? Why didn’t you tell me this before? I thought I was just going to have to endure the Cowboys.” Kenzie takes a deep breath and smooths her hair in her ponytail. “Do you think Deacon did that on purpose?”
“Did what?”
“Asked about Lily?”
“He wouldn’t do that to me or you,” I say. “If he was truly mean, I’d keep him away from you, and I wouldn’t want anything to do with him myself.” I can tell Kenzie isn’t quite convinced. “The guy’s just been given everything his whole life. He’s a spoiled brat and a womanizer who doesn’t handle rejection well.”
Kenzie pauses for a moment, considering the possibility. “Okay, if you say so.”
I kiss her on the forehead. “I wouldn’t yell ‘Who Dat’ in this room,” I tease and lead her inside the suite, to what is truly another world. With its rich mahogany and fancy mirrors, leather sofas, flat screen televisions, wet bar, waiters, and full spread of food, this room is as far away from tailgating as you can get. On top of all that, there are about thirty seats out on the ledge to watch the game.
Most of the men are in coats and ties, and the women are in fancy blue outfits of one kind or another, dripping in jewelry and sporting full hair and makeup. It’s a completely insane way to dress for a football game. But they’re not really dressed for the game; they’re dressed for each other.
I pull Kenzie through the well-dressed crowd, greeting a few familiar faces along the way, then peer down to the field. It’s about an hour until kickoff, and the players are trickling out to stretch. I look over at Kenzie and can tell she’s uncomfortable, her eyes on her jeans and jersey and tennis shoes. “You look beautiful, baby,” I say, giving her ass a little smack before lacing my fingers with hers.
Her skin turns pink, but her body relaxes. Those little words from me seem to mean a lot to her. Men need to remember that. You can make a woman’s day just by paying attention or smacking her ass—either one seems to work.
We turn away from the field and head back inside the suite. All the attention is on a tall, thin woman, a woman who owns any room she’s in, wearing a white dress with blue heels. “Look at her shoes,” Kenzie whispers. “I’ve got serious shoe envy.”
“My mom loves shoes as. . . .”
“Your
mom
? That’s your mom? She could be a model!”
“She was. That’s how she met my stepdad. After my dad died, she used to take these modeling jobs at car shows.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Don’t tell her I told you. She wouldn’t want that getting out into the high society around here,” I say. “But she was the bikini model on the hood.”
My mom must’ve sensed me talking about her because she has her arms around me a few seconds later. “Baby, I didn’t think I’d get to see you today.” My mom steps back and cups my face. “California must’ve gone well. You look happy.”
“Not because of California, Mom. I’d like you to meet. . . .”
“Kenzie Scott,” my mom interrupts then turns to Kenzie. “I’m Elise Barnes. It’s nice to finally meet the woman who put Deacon in his place and pulled Kane out of his stupor.”
Oh, hell! Kenzie didn’t need to hear that. “I talked to Deacon. Everything’s fine now.”
“Until the next thing,” my mom says, reaching for Kenzie’s hand and giving it a little squeeze. “Happy you could come today. I’ve been wanting to meet you, but Kane asked me to wait.”
“Because you wanted to go order bras and panties, Mom!”
Kenzie playfully swats me then gives me a little kiss in front of everyone, reminding me that I love how she is who she is, no matter where we are or who we are with. “You’ve been turning away business?”
“Just from my mom,” I say, fighting back the bile in my throat. “That’s disgusting to think about.”
My stepfather walks over and pecks my mom on the cheek before shaking my hand. “James, this is Kenzie Scott,” my mom says.
“So, Kenzie, you’re a Cowboys fan?” James asks.
I put my arm around the man. He’s trying for a safe conversation, but that’s an epic fail. “James, let’s go get some food and a drink,” I say. “You don’t want to get Kenzie started.”
My stepfather and I walk away, and I hear Kenzie giggling behind us. “Cowgirls?”
*
I pop open
a beer and lean against the bar, remembering how close my mom was—and still is—with Lily. She calls Lily the daughter she never had, so it’s a little strange to watch my mom chatting up Kenzie. They both appear to be having a good time, though. That’s a relief. I wasn’t quite sure my mom would be open to someone new in my life.
“She’s the complete opposite of Lily,” James says.
“You can’t compare the two,” I say.
“Hard not to since she’s the first woman you’ve brought around since the divorce.”
“Dad’s right,” Deacon says, joining us. “First, Kenzie is a career woman. Plus, they look absolutely nothing alike. Not to mention that Lily wouldn’t have been caught dead walking in here dressed so casually. Then again, look how you’re dressed.”
“Kenzie’s not caught up in the social scene,” I say. “That’s one of the things I love about her.”
“
Love
? Have I taught you nothing?” Deacon asks.
James puts his hand on my shoulder. “We’re all very happy for you. She seems like a wonderful girl.”
“Dude, you need to slow the fuck down!” Deacon says.
“Son,” James says.
“I’m just saying what you and Elise have been saying, Dad.”
My eyes shift to my stepfather. I hate that my love life is the topic of conversation again. There was enough of that the past couple years. “Mom’s worried?” I ask.
“Just concerned you’re moving fast,” James says. “I am, too.”
“Lily and I have been divorced almost a year,” I say and glance towards Kenzie. “I hope Mom is not sharing her ‘concerns’ over there.”
“I’m sure she’s not,” James says. “It’s just that we actually thought you and Lily might work things out.”
I nearly choke on my beer. “What made you think that?”
“We all know you were still seeing her,” James says.
“It wasn’t really a secret,” Deacon adds.
“I didn’t come here to discuss this,” I say. “It’s none of your damn business, anyway.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” James says. “Your mom and I are parents. We worry. Maybe we shouldn’t tell you we worry. Kenzie seems great; we just don’t want you to get hurt again.”
“Kane, I think what Dad is trying to say,” Deacon says, “is just don’t run off and marry her or knock her up, and everything will be fine.”
“Not exactly what I meant,” James says. “But that’s good advice, too.”
Deacon throws an arm around my shoulder. “I’ve always got your back, Kane.”
I relax a little and give a slight chuckle. “Why is no one concerned that you’ve never married, Deacon?”
“We worry about that, too,” James says with a laugh. “Your mother and I worry about Deacon a lot. He gives us
plenty
to worry about.”
“You’re welcome,” Deacon says.
James rolls his eyes. “Look, Kane, we love you, and I know if you love Kenzie, we will, too. I guess we’re just being cautious. What you and Lily went through was painful for all of us.”
*
I can’t get
away from that conversation fast enough. It’s ten minutes until kickoff, and I grab a seat with Kenzie. She actually plans to watch the game, while the other women are sipping drinks by the bar or reapplying their makeup. I look over at her, finding her shoulders turned slightly away from me, her legs crossed in the same direction. It’s a sure sign something’s up. My mother better not have said anything to Kenzie about her
concerns
. “You and my mom seemed to get along,” I say.
“She’s nice. Your stepdad, too,” Kenzie says.
“What else?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“Nothing.”
I reach for her waist and angle her towards me. “Kenzie, what else?”
“It’s not fair that you can read me so easily.”
“I’ve got you in the palm of my hand,” I say, and she blushes a bright red. “So what happened with my mom?”
“Nothing,” she says. “Your family just seems so formal.”
“They’re out in public,” I say. “They’re different at home.”
“I can’t imagine your mom wearing yoga pants or jeans.”
“She does, but only after she really knows someone. James and my mom have a certain image they project. It’s just part of the game for them.”
“I know all about that,” Kenzie says. “I wonder if they think maybe I’m not good enough for you.”
“They don’t think that. It’s not about social standing or clothes for them,” I say and take her hand. “I can tell they like you already. They can be uptight, but once you get to really know them, they will relax. Growing up, Deacon and I always acted one way out in public and another way in private. There were times we had to vacation with James’ business associates, and we knew it was time for etiquette and certain clothes, but then we’d get home, and Mom would let us act like little devils. We all knew it was a game, one that James needs to play to maintain his business. Why do you think he bought the suite and invites all these people?”
“He owns it? You never told me that!”
“It slipped my mind. It’s not something I think about. I don’t play the game anymore.”
“But you used to? With Lily?”
“It didn’t start off that way. Lily came from money, but we had this shitty apartment and ate Ramen noodles.” I try to keep myself from smiling at the memories. “She was a preschool teacher, and I was in law school. James paid for my tuition, but Lily and I were determined not to take anything else from either of our families. We wanted to stand on our own two feet. We were so poor.”
“But you were happy?”
“We were then, but things shifted somehow. I started doing well at the firm, and she quit working. We bought the big house. Pretty soon, it was all about the Junior League and some charity or other public event to go to. Lily felt a lot of pressure to look and act a certain way. I didn’t care about that stuff, but I played along because it was important to her. I thought I was making her happy when it was all actually making her miserable. It took its toll on her—and our relationship.”
“I know the feeling,”
“Your ex?”
“I met Charles a few days after I got to Europe. He was wealthy, older. I was twenty-two, and he was forty.”
“He could’ve been your father!”
“He was well-connected, upper-crust. The world revolved around Charles, and that’s the way he liked it. At first, it was exciting to be part of it all—the parties, the fancy people. But later it just felt like I was on display, like I was just his plaything or. . . .”
I can tell she isn’t comfortable discussing it, and I don’t feel like I need to know the details. The man hurt her and that was all I need to know. “We don’t have to talk about all this. I mean, we have lots. . . .” Before I can finish the thought, Kenzie throws her hands over my eyes. “What’re you doing?” I ask, chuckling.