Miss Fix-It

I sighed heavily, putting the candy down. “I had dinner with him last night—as a friend,” I added pointedly. “And I guess the Bay-vine got hold of that information. He got us lunch from the Coastal, Marcie asked, and he elaborated to give everyone something to talk about.”

Mom’s lips twisted to the side. “Is that how you ended up covered in pink paint?”

“Long story short, yes. I wasn’t happy with him.”

“No kidding. You looked like you got in a fight with the paint aisle in the home store. Or Barbie.”

“Definitely Barbie.” I went back to chewing on my Twizzler.

“It was just dinner, then?”

She was fishing. Honestly, she may as well have pulled out a damn fishing rod, attached a Twizzler to the end, and baited me into telling her.

Well, she was the moron who gave me the Twizzlers first. So, ha.

“Just dinner,” I said breezily.

“Kali.” She met my eyes with a look that make me bristle. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“It was just dinner!” I insisted, finishing the candy. I was an animal, eating with my mouth full, but I didn’t care.

“You’re being defensive, and you’re a godawful liar.”

“I’ve heard that a lot this week.”

“Start telling the truth.”

“Can’t.” I paused. “The truth is against company policy.”

Her eyes widened, and she grinned like she’d hit the jackpot. “I promise not to tell your dad.”

Sighing, I took the Twizzler packet and went into the living room. Mom was hot on my heels like a puppy begging for scraps. I threw myself onto the sofa, tugged up my shirt, and yanked another bit of candy from the packet.

“Talk. Now.” She wiggled her fingers at me.

“I don’t wanna,” I mumbled.

“Kali.”

“We kissed. Twice,” I admitted, looking down. “Almost three times, but I attacked him with my paintbrush.”

Mom snorted. “There’s something you don’t hear every day.”

I peered up at her through my lashes. “It doesn’t matter. I told him it can’t happen again.”

“Because it’s against company policy?”

“Exactly. I was part of making that rule with Dad. I mean, I know you guys met when you hired him, but still. He told me nothing happened until after, and him meeting you made him realize how important that rule was.”

She blinked at me. “He told you nothing happened until after he was done working for me?”

“Yes,” I said slowly. “That was the reason we made the rule.”

“Oh boy.” She exhaled slowly and put her mug on the coffee table. “Honey, I’m not sure how to tell you this, but your father and I were fucking like rabbits before he was ever done working for me.”

I froze. I didn’t even fucking breathe. That was way more information than I’d ever wanted to know about them.

I smacked my lips together. “And now I’m going to be sick.”

Mom laughed, tapping her fingers against my knee. “That was a little blunt. My point is, he only added that rule because he realized that one day, you’d run the company, and he didn’t want you mixing business and pleasure.”

I frowned. That changed everything I knew. “But…isn’t that my choice?”

“I think he wanted you to stay on schedule. He…lost some time when we met.”

Holding up my hands, I shook my head. “Nope. Enough on that, thank you.”

Her laughter filled the room. “Point taken, honey. So…Can I ask about Brantley?”

“You’re going to whether I want you to or not.”

“True.” She grinned, picking up her coffee again. “Do you like him?”

“That’s a very high school question. I mean, I’m not scribbling “Mrs. Kali Cooper” in a notebook or anything.”

“Kali Cooper sounds good.”

“So does Kali Hancock,” I retorted. “Stop taking this places it isn’t meant to go, Mom. I’m attracted to him, but I’m also attracted to Tom Hardy. That doesn’t mean I’m going to marry him and have his babies.”

“You and every other woman in the country.” She sipped. “You know what I mean when I ask if you like him.”

“Mom.” I held my hands up. “It’s not…easy. You know exactly how it is to have feelings for someone who already has a family. I’m in the exact same position you were, except my mom’s death wasn’t as raw for me and dad as the twins’ is for Brantley. Two and a half years isn’t that long. Even if I did have strong feelings for him, I couldn’t waltz in there like he belonged to me. His heart belonged to someone else. Enough that they had a family.” I sank back into the sofa. “That isn’t what I want. I don’t want to be second best to a memory.”

“Do you think I’m second best to a memory?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know. I’m asking you a real question, Kali. Is that how you think I feel?”

I met her eyes. They were soft and gentle. They were honest. She really was asking.

“You’re not to me,” I answered after a moment. “Do you feel like you are?”