Kylie
Luther Green is different. Better at covering his tracks than most of the other tenants in Bachelor Tower. It’s not impossible to take him down, but it’s requiring a hell of a lot of digging.
One lead has nagging at me for a few days, but I’ve been too cautions to move forward with it. My contact in the building said he’s still getting the information together for me and I should wait. Waiting is my worst nightmare.
Inaction allows a threat to grow. I’m more certain than ever this is the guy who is trying to make life at work miserable for Dalton. Every deal he disrupts is less security for Penny’s future. I won’t have that. I’ve pressed Penny a couple more times, but she won’t tell me anything more, only that it’s wearing on Dalton.
I check my watch and remember how close we are to doomsday. Another hour before dinner at Penny’s with my mother. I gave Ben every opportunity to back out, but apparently, judging by his affection for me, he’s a glutton for punishment.
Closing my laptop and realizing there’s no last-minute escape hatch to slip through, I get ready for dinner. I slip into a dress when I should be looking for a shield and some armor. It’s essential to protect myself from the constant swipes my mother takes. She means well, or so I remind myself as often as is necessary to keep from swiping back.
I need to arrive at Penny’s early. She’ll be nervous, and as much as my mother wants me there for a buffer, I know Penny needs me more.
“Where’s Ben?” Penny yanks me inside and looks down the hallway expectantly.
“He’s coming closer to dinner time. I figured I’d see if you need any help.”
“But he is coming? I set a plate for him.”
Dalton rounds the corner and takes Penny gently by the elbow. “You need to relax. This is just dinner with your mom not the Queen’s coronation. It’s going to be fine.”
Penny looks at me and sighs. “I hope so.”
“I agree with Dalton.” I lie for her sake. “You’re no longer some little kid who doesn’t want to learn about business acquisitions. Let her get to know who you’ve become. She might surprise you.”
“Right,” Dalton agrees. “Exactly. Be the woman I love because she’s fucking amazing.”
Penny smiles.
I give Dalton credit. He says all the right things. Will the confidence he gives Penny stand up against our mother’s particular version of tough love and high standards?
“What can I help with?” Looking around the apartment, I see most everything is already done. The table is beautifully set. The food smells amazing.
“We need a code word,” Penny blurts out. “Kylie, if I need you to get me out of here, I’m going to say White Desert Rose.”
“Wait . . . why does she get to escape with you?” Dalton asks, looking concerned. “Does that mean Ben and I are left here with your mother?”
Penny scrunches up her face as though she’s giving this some serious thought. “You can come up with your own code for you and Ben.”
I chuckle and put a hand on her shoulder. “You’re not going to say White Desert Rose to get me to take you out of here.”
Dalton nods, looking relieved. “Thank you.”
I lean in and whisper, “That’s too long and too hard to work into the conversation. Let’s say baked chicken.”
“I heard that.” Dalton looks ready to demand his own code word when Ben knocks and lets himself in.
“Heard what?” he asks, looking at each of us. I know he’s been fighting off the worry that something is going on with me. The day he came up to my apartment I acted like an idiot. But he’d caught me off guard. My apartment is ground zero for the behind the scenes work I’m doing to knock out these bastards causing trouble in the Tower.
Dalton steps forward and anxiously explains. “They have a code word to get out of here if things get messy. I don’t like it.”
“Is it really going to be that bad?” Ben asks, tucking his hands causally into his pockets. “She’s a tough lady, I get that, but we’re four adults in healthy relationships. I think we can handle it.”
We all nod our heads, but it’s clear we’re less than convinced. Dalton grabs a beer for Ben and hands it over. “Our code words are let’s get the hell out of here.”
“No beer.” Penny swoops in and switches the glass bottle for a crystal champagne flute filled with our mother’s favorite bubbly.
“Why?” Dalton asks, looking disappointed at his new drink.
I look at Penny and crack a smile, impersonating my mother’s voice as I explain. “Beer is for former frat boys and football fans.”
“I’m literally both of those,” Ben says, making a weak attempt to get his beer back.
The firm knock on the door has us all going silent and still as statues. There’s a moment that passes among us. An unspoken question. If we’re really quiet, will she go away?
The second, more important knock sends us all into motion.
“Coming.” Penny takes one last look around the apartment, shoves the beers in my arms to get rid of, and heads for the door.
I pour the beers down the sink and shove the bottles to the bottom of the recycling bin. I’m a grown woman. I run a Fortune 500 company. I have a coveted apartment and drive an expensive sports car. Yet I’m hiding beers from my mother like I’m a teenager who’s been left home for the weekend.
“Something smells delicious.” My mother is in a navy blue skirt and perfectly tailored jacket over a pinstriped blouse. Her neck glitters with gold and her nail polish is a muted natural pink. There is nothing about our mother that isn’t calculated and well thought out. From lipstick shade to the height of her heels, there is a meaning or a reason for everything.
“Thanks for coming, Mom. This is Dalton.” Penny presents him to our mother. She looks as nervous as I am for her. I know how much this means to Penny, but I don’t know how to help her bridge the gap between who she is and who our mother wants her to be.
“It’s nice to meet you. Should I call you Mrs. Fuller?” Dalton extends a hand, and my mother shakes it firmly.
“Elizabeth will do. The apartment is charming. Though I can see you let my daughter decorate some.” She gestures to some of Penny’s prized possessions that decorate the built-in bookshelves. It’s a hodgepodge of trinkets but ones she cares deeply about.
“She’s given character to the place.” Dalton puts a protective arm over Penny’s shoulder and squeezes her.
“You cooked?”
“Yes,” Penny says tentatively. She’s too smart to be lured in by what might sound, to a less astute person, like the start of a compliment. She knows better.
“With all Dalton’s money could you not afford a chef?” She folds her hands neatly together as though she doesn’t want to touch anything in the apartment by accident.
I see my first opening to do my job. “You’ll love it, Mom. Penny is a great cook. How did that meeting with the board go? Did they budge on the new employee health benefit initiative?”
“They did.” My mother lights with pride. “I had to twist some arms and make some threats, but they couldn’t argue with math. You bring them the numbers, and they have no choice but to listen.”
“Good to see you again, Elizabeth,” Ben chimes in.
“We’ve met?” A fun game my mother likes to play. Amnesia for the sake of keeping people humble.
“The other day outside Kylie’s office.” Ben flashes her his signature smile. I used to wonder if it could possibly be sincere, but I now know it is. He genuinely likes people and continues to like them until they give him a reason not to. Sometimes past that point as well.
“Right.” She eyes him and squints as she appraises him. “I didn’t recognize you with decent clothes on.”
I did notice Ben dressed sharply tonight. My mother and her feedback has that effect on people. No. Ben looks unaffected by her perusal of him. He chose his attire—for me? Because he knows tonight is important to me.
I want to tell him not to change a single thing about himself for her sake. Ben looks great in jeans, and he’s successful without the flash. He has every right to hold his head up and be proud of who he is.
I take his hand in mine and give it a squeeze. It doesn’t convey all I’m thinking, but from the smile he shines down at me, it gets some of it across.
“Can I get you a drink, Mom?” Penny asks dutifully.
“I’m actually not able to stay for dinner. I’ll have a glass of champagne, but I have a conference call with Taiwan in forty-five minutes.” She looks at me and rolls her eyes. “Oh, stop. It was last minute. If I could have chosen a better time I would have. If anyone should understand, I’d think it would be you, Kylie. You’ve always been smart enough to put your business first.”
There was a time when I agreed with her. Penny’s feelings, the men with us, even how I felt would all have come second in my mind to a business opportunity. Business is the rock a person builds their life upon. Everything else is layered on top of it. That’s what I used to think, anyway.
I look at Ben. He works, but his work isn’t who he is. If he stopped writing programs today, he would probably have the same friends and be the center of his sisters’ attention.
Who would I be without my business? Before this year I would have said nothing. I’m not so sure that’s true anymore. I’d still have Ben, Penny, and Dalton.
“Actually, Mom, I think you should postpone the call. Penny went to a lot of trouble to make a meal for us.”
Our mother turns to Penny. “If I leave you’re going to make a big deal out of this?”
“Of course not,” Penny assures her.
This is why I’m here. “Which doesn’t mean it won’t be a big deal, Mom; it means she will be too nice to say anything.”
“Well, thank you for translating my own daughter to me,” our mother says in a cold voice.
“Why are you here, Mom? You said you want to see Penny. I know you love her. She needs to see proof of it, though. She needs you to say it, to show it, or at least to stay long enough to eat the meal she cooked for you.”
My declaration is followed by a long silence.
Our mother looks from me to Penny. Her eyes narrow. “When I accepted your invitation, I had no idea our entire relationship hinged on this one meal. So glad to hear that nothing I’ve done for you up to this point has proven that I love you. What a nice kick in the ass that is.”
“Mom,” Penny rushes to reassure her, then meets my gaze. She looks torn between appeasing our mother and sticking up for me. “I love you. That’s it. You don’t have to stay for dinner. I get that you’re busy.”
“Thank you.” Our mother walks over to the counter, downs a flute of champagne. “I’ll call you both next week.” She stops in front of me. “I don’t know what is going on with you, Kylie, but you have me worried.” She strolls out of the apartment like she’s just brokered peace in the Middle East. Her head is high. Her back arrow straight.
Dalton closes the door and the room falls completely silent. We look around at each other as though we’re waiting for some kind of sign. It comes in the way of the blaring smoke alarm.
“The food.” Penny darts to the kitchen and screams. “Fire. It’s the bacon grease.”
“Shit.” Dalton scrambles to the kitchen and pushes Penny back.
“I have an extinguisher in my apartment!” I pull out my key and rush to my kitchen, Ben close on my heels. I forget about the large, ridiculous looking wall that is filled with pictures and notes about the men I intend to destroy. There’s no time to think about it.
I pull the extinguisher down from the top of the fridge and throw it to Ben. He darts out of my apartment and back to Dalton and Penny. A moment later the commotion settles, and Ben is back in my doorway. “Can I come in?”
“I should probably go back. Check on Penny.” I keep the door mostly closed. There’s a chance he didn’t notice anything. Really, I should have taken my vision board down. Probably never should have put it up in the first place. First rule of never getting caught—don’t fucking map out what you’re doing. Shit.
Ben puts his hand on the door. “The fire is out. Not too much damage. Just the stove really.” He pushes the door open an inch more. “We need to talk.”
Fuck.
I take a step forward with every intention of closing the door behind me. “Okay.”
He pushes on the door more firmly. “Kylie, I saw something on your wall that I need to see again.”
My hand clenches on the door. “No. No, you don’t.”
“What are you doing, Kylie? What are we doing?”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I thought we had something good going—something important. How important can I be to you if you won’t let me in your apartment?”
I don’t consider myself a nervous person, but I’m shaking in my shoes. I’m cursing myself for letting him get so close that I’m afraid of losing him. Once he sees the board, really sees it, he’ll see how very different we really are.
And then he’ll leave me.
He’ll leave because the truth is I am too much like my mother for anyone to love. It’s going to hurt like a bitch to lose him, but maybe it’s best if it happens like this.
I let the door swing open. He walks past me to the wall and spends a few minutes studying it.
“I can explain.” I can’t but that seems like the right thing to say.
“What is this, Kylie?”
I could lie. I should lie. He wants to know me? Really know me? Well, here I am. “It’s my vision board.”
“For?”
“For people in the building who may be a threat.”
He studies it again. “There are pinholes over there. Who did you take down?”
“Judge Snyder.”
“What did he do to deserve his place on your wall?”
“He wanted me out,” I say hoarsely. Once I might have said it proudly, but I can’t—not while looking into the eyes of a man who would never have done the same. Not since I was a child have I allowed myself to wish my life had been different, that I was different.
Part of me wants to go back to being blissfully unaware of how low I’ve sunk. Part of me wants to beg Ben to show me how to come back from this.
His attention is back on the wall. “All those women who came forward, did you make that happen?”
“They were telling the truth. I didn’t ask anyone to lie. I just put the wheels in motion. He’s a bad man who deserves whatever he has coming.”
“And all this other information? What will you do with it?” He gestures to notes beside some of the names.
“It’s not over with here. I know it seems like it settled down but I have reason to believe some of these people are targeting Dalton. I won’t let them hurt my sister or the man she loves.”
“At what cost?”
“Any cost necessary.”
He runs a hand through his dark hair. I’ve said the one thing he was hoping I wouldn’t. I’ve admitted that not even losing him would stop me. That used to be true. Now? Now I don’t know.
“You’re doing this all by yourself? All the time we’ve spent together you never thought to loop me in or ask my opinion.”
“I didn’t want you to have to get involved.”
“So you were protecting me?”
I lower my eyes. Lying would make all of this easier, but he deserves the truth. “No, myself. I didn’t want you to see this side of me.”
He pockets his hands and rocks back on his heels, staring at the wall like something new will appear there. “Who’s next?”
I swallow hard. “Luther is still screwing with Dalton, or at least I think so. I found a link to an account of his that’s been funneling money to the Caribbean. Not for tax evasion. It’s some kind of payment for someone. Someone he’s trying to keep quiet I’m sure.”
“I don’t know what Luther is or isn’t up to, but this is wrong, Kylie. Luther Green is a jerk, and maybe he’s the one trying to disrupt Dalton’s work, but Dalton can handle it. Luther has thousands of people in his company. What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not.”
He shakes his head. “This is—intense.”
He’s pulling away from me. It’s there in his eyes. This is too much for him. I’m too much. I’ve seen the same look in my father’s eyes whenever he spoke of my mother. No matter what Ben might feel for me—it’s not enough.
My pride kicks in. “I’m intense.”
Sarcasm is the wrong move now, but I’ve reached into my bag of tricks reserved for when I’m most afraid. Right now, I’m terrified. I can see the look in Ben’s eyes, and I know what he wants from me. He wants some kind of explanation that makes this look less psycho scary and dark than it is. I wish there were one.
“What happens when someone realizes you’ve been targeting the tenants here? You’re crossing people who have endless resources to come back at you.”
“I have it under control.”
“Is this because you’re afraid? You’re not alone. I can protect you. I have friends—resources.”
“I know. I don’t want you involved in this.
“That’s not why you kept this to yourself.”
“No?”
“You didn’t tell me because you knew I’d be worried. I’d tell you all this energy you’re putting into a vendetta or whatever this is, won’t work. It’s dangerous and distracting. You’re isolating yourself and maybe putting yourself in harm’s way. For what?”
My head drops slightly and my long hair falls like a curtain around my face. “It started because I was worried about Penny.”
He gives me a long steady look.
“And I was angry. I wanted to prove to them they are not untouchable,” I admit.
He walks closer to another section of the wall and takes a better look. “What about all these other people? There are multiple men here I know didn’t do anything. They don’t care that you live here and they won’t hurt Penny or anyone else for that matter. You have all sorts of dirt on them.”
“I’m proactive. You never know when you’ll need something to protect yourself with.”
“So what do you have on me? Dalton? Am I one screw-up away from getting on the wall?”
“It’s not like that.”
“How do you even get all this information?”
I’m honest because I want him—no I need him—to see this side of me now. “There’s someone in the building who provides information when I need it.”
“So you do trust someone, just not me.”
“I don’t trust him.” It’s an insult to even imply that the mole I have working in this building deserves any trust. “I pay him enough that I’m reasonably sure he’ll keep his mouth shut.”
“And what happens to him when this all blows up? Is he just collateral damage?”
“It won’t blow up.” Looking at all of this through his eyes shakes me to the core.
I step closer to him and for the first time he doesn’t reach for me. He searches my face, and although I’m not a crier, my eyes fill with tears. I know goodbye when I see it.
I almost say I’m sorry, but what would I apologize for? For feeling I have to defend myself? For being me?
He turns back to look at the wall. “This is wrong, Kylie. It’s not healthy.”
I shrug. I would say something if I knew what could possibly make either one of us feel better.
“I need to think about this.”
I reach out for his arm. He pulls back before I touch him. “I wish you hadn’t come in here.” That at least is the truth.
“Me, too. You need help, Kylie.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m not saying it to be mean. I think talking to someone might actually be what you need.” He looks at me so sadly I’d hug him if I weren’t also the person who had put that look in his eyes.
“Get out.” There’s a finality to my words, and I can see it in his face. It’s done. It’s over. He has seen the real me and, like any sane person, has decided loving me is . . . impossible.