All's Fair in Love and Blood: A Romantic Comedy Novel Read online

  It was another thing to thank Kane for. He’d been helping me with the essay, even by phone last night since he was on a quick business trip in Boston. It was just my luck. Finally, a man other than Hugh wanted to spend time with me and he had to leave town. He would be back late tonight, though.

  “Send it to Pamela when it’s done so she can look it over and give you any pointers.” He once again offered up a person on his executive team. Another person who wasn’t him.

  “I will,” I sighed.

  “Good.” He made it sound like he was done with the inquisition.

  “How’s Bora-Bora?” I had a need to elongate the conversation. I had a need for him.

  “Fine,” he was quick to answer. “I need to discuss another matter with you.”

  Weird. “All right.”

  Insert another long pause.

  He cleared his throat. “I’ve received a phone call about you and Kane.”

  I fumbled the phone and dropped it.

  “Scarlett.” I could hear Auggie calling out my name.

  I scrambled to pick up the phone. “I’m here,” I said, out of breath. I knew Ophelia would call him. Why couldn’t she have at least waited until he was back from his honeymoon? I felt sick to my stomach waiting to hear what she’d told Auggie. “I don’t know what Ophelia said, but—”

  “Ophelia didn’t call me.”

  “Who did?”

  “That’s neither here nor there.”

  Someone else had called? I was going to puke. I rested my head back against the wall and closed my eyes. Literally nothing had happened between Kane and me. So, yes, we were going on a date tomorrow. A real date. To be sure of that, I’d asked Kane last night on the phone if that’s what he had meant when he’d asked me to spend the day with him on Saturday. He’d laughed and called me adorable. I couldn’t think about that now, though. I was waiting for Auggie to . . . well, I wasn’t really sure. We’d never had these kinds of discussions before.

  “Scarlett.” He heaved a heavy sigh. “You’re so . . .”—he paused for a long moment—“young.”

  “Auggie, I’m twenty-two.”

  “That’s young.”

  “Momma was that old when you married her,” I reminded him.

  “We were too young.” His tone said not to bring her into this. Not to bring her up ever.

  I didn’t know why he wouldn’t tell me about her. I didn’t even have grandparents or aunts and uncles to get information from. My mother had been an only child and her parents had died in a freak plane crash right before I was born. I’d often wondered if that had played a part in her depression. I knew better than to press the issue with Auggie, especially now. “What’s this all about?”

  “I’m concerned about you dating an older man. A man who has more experience than you,” he clarified.

  “Most fourteen-year-olds have more experience than me,” I deadpanned.

  “Scarlett, you’re not helping the situation,” he scolded me.

  “What situation? I thought you liked Kane.”

  “I do. That doesn’t mean I want him dating my daughter. Besides, I’m married to his mother.”

  I wanted to say, “Not for long,” but I didn’t think that would go over too well. Yet, something swelled within me. It felt like a backbone. “Nothing has happened between Kane and me, but even if something had, why do you care who I date?”

  I’d thought he was silent before—now I couldn’t even hear him breathe. The only thing I could hear was my erratically beating heart. I had never spoken to Auggie in such a way.

  “What are you saying?” he finally responded.

  “I think you know what I’m saying,” my voice trembled. “You don’t care about me,” I whispered.

  “You’re mistaken,” he snapped. “Be careful with Kane. You have your whole life ahead of you.” He hung up.

  I stared at my phone. Most daughters would probably cry after a call like that with their father, but I had learned a long time ago not to bother with tears when it came to Auggie. Tears, I had learned, only pushed my father further away. I remembered crying once as a girl and Auggie saying, “Scarlett, whatever you do, please don’t cry.” Then he’d walked away.

  While keeping my tears in, I wondered who had called Auggie. And how many people were talking about me. Whoever they were, I bet they were making fun of me for thinking that I could date someone like Kane. That thought made my stomach churn. Maybe I should break off my date with him. Let’s face it, he could ask anyone out. Like any single woman at Armstrong Labs. Heck, probably some of the married women and even a man or two would love to take my place.

  Will you please call me when you get a chance? I texted Kane. Though I hated to break the only date I had ever truly looked forward to, I couldn’t have people talking about me and running to my father. Plus, I already knew Kane was out of my stratosphere. Frankly, the whole situation didn’t even seem real. It felt more like I was living out my own rom-com where the quirky girl is actually a hot babe behind her glasses and the gorgeous hero sees her for who she truly is. Except, when I took off my glasses, I wasn’t a hot babe, and there was a good chance Kane would quickly realize my quirky was just weird. After all, knowing me, on our first date I would probably have some mishap worse than getting my hand stuck in my bra. We’re talking my stomach roaring like a lion or a bird crapping on my head. Perhaps even both at the same time. Yep. Better just to cancel. That would solve all my problems.

  I leaned my head back against the wall, not feeling overly enthusiastic about breaking my date with Kane. He was different. I wasn’t sure how I knew that considering I basically had no track record for these kinds of things, but something deep inside told me he was. Like somehow, he really did see the girl behind the glasses. And in a weird way, he was helping me to see her too. That said, was it worth the scrutiny? And Auggie was right, Kane was waaaaay more experienced than me. What did Kane expect from all this? From me?

  Amid my contemplation Kane called.

  I’d admit to getting a bit fluttery just seeing his name on my screen. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Scarlett.”

  Oh, the way he said my name was delicious, like a big fat chocolate chip cookie made with semisweet chips, because that was the best way. Not to say I wouldn’t eat a milk chocolate chip cookie, but I digress.

  “Sorry to interrupt you.”

  “Feel free to interrupt me anytime.”

  I wished he wouldn’t say things like that. It was weakening my resolve to break off our date.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked as if he could read my mind.

  “Well . . . nothing is wrong per se.” I let out a huge breath of disappointment. “I think, though, that I’m going to have to cancel our date tomorrow.” Those words almost made me cry.

  “Why?” He seemed upset.

  I was expecting him to be neutral about it. “It’s embarrassing.”

  “Like a woman thing, embarrassing? If so, I’m your guy. Between my mom and sister, I know the best tampons, chocolate, and pain relievers to buy. Just say the word, and we will skip what I have planned and watch a movie at home.”

  Was he for real? I was beginning to think he was a dream. No man, not even my father, had ever gone to the store to buy my tampons. The first time I started my period, my father sent me straight to Naomi’s. From there on out, she and Rae were put in charge of buying all the feminine hygiene products until I could drive myself to the store.

  “It’s not my period,” I sighed. “Auggie called me. I don’t know who, but someone told him about us, which is ridiculous because nothing is going on and—”

  “I called your father.”

  I blinked about a hundred times in a second flat. “Why?” I spluttered.

  “Because, Scarlett, our family and work ties make things complicated. I felt it best to be aboveboard. I don’t want your father thinking I’m seducing you to score a promotion. And I have no plans to sneak around.”

  Hmm.
I was totally fine with sneaking around. I mean, I figured this wasn’t going to last past the first date anyway. And since Auggie wouldn’t be back until next weekend, he would never have any idea we’d gone out. I was more worried about . . . “Seducing me?” I eeked out.

  He chuckled. “I don’t plan on seducing you, Scarlett,” he said seductively. On purpose, I was sure.

  “You don’t?”

  “Now you sound disappointed,” he teased.

  I blushed even though no one was around. “I’m not . . . I mean.” I was flustered. “I just wish you wouldn’t have called my father.”

  “I apologize. I should have told you beforehand, but it wouldn’t have changed my mind.”

  “Even if I’d begged you not to?”

  “Scarlett,” he said tenderly. “Did you think this was something we could keep a secret?”

  “Well.” I twirled my hair. “It’s one date. How hard would it be to keep it to ourselves?”

  “You’ve already decided the date will be so bad you won’t want another?” He sounded faux offended.

  I rubbed my lips together. “Um . . . I was assuming it would be the other way around.”

  “Ah. I see. Do you want to know my prediction?”

  “Maybe,” I whispered.

  “I have a feeling you may like it.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Scarlett, I predict that we’re going to have such a good time I won’t wait until the end of the night before I ask you out again.”

  A mass of butterflies took flight in my stomach. “I’m sure to do something embarrassing.”

  “I hope so, because I love to see you blush.”

  I smiled. “Count on lots of red cheeks.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “Kane.” I paused. “Auggie isn’t happy about this.”

  “I know,” he sighed. “But honestly, if you are, that’s all that really matters to me in this situation. So, the question is, are you happy?”

  I thought for a moment. It was rare for someone other than Naomi, Miss Rae, or Mindy to care about my happiness. Sadly, I often neglected it. But in this moment, I was happy. Very happy. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

  Zombies and First Dates

  “Don’t be nervous,” I kept telling myself while I looked in my bathroom mirror. I touched my hair, which was pulled up in a messy bun. It was like wrestling with pigs trying to get all my hair to stay put on top of my head. I’d watched a YouTube tutorial on how to do it right. I had probably used about fifty bobby pins. No telling how many times I’d prayed it would stay up.

  I debated over and over again on whether to wear the coral spaghetti strap sundress. It showed more skin than I was used to. My hand glided across my collarbone. I did feel pretty though, and somehow, I looked more grown up.

  “I can do this,” I breathed out. Kane thought I was beautiful, I reminded myself. Besides, he’d seen me in the revealing bridesmaid dress with my hand down my bra—it could only go up from there. Note to self: do not eat anything that will produce those sneaky crumbs. This dress didn’t have a zipper.

  I grabbed my bag and headed downstairs, holding my breath. Eva was having the master bedroom repainted and it smelled awful. The color was kind of atrocious too—dark salmon. I wondered if Auggie knew or cared that his room was going to look like a slaughtered fish. I didn’t know how that was shabby or chic. I was grateful she couldn’t touch my room. My room was boring, with beige walls and the same white Pottery Barn furniture I’d had since Mindy and I had shared the adjoining bedrooms connected by a Jack-and-Jill bathroom. After Naomi, Cindy was the best stepmother, meaning she had pretty much left Mindy and me to do whatever we wanted. We were real rebels and would watch movies past our bedtime. For the most part, Cindy was more interested in being Auggie’s trophy wife and had gotten a ton of cosmetic surgery done during her tenure as Mrs. Armstrong. She was always recovering from something or other, so we rarely saw her.

  Once I reached the landing, I took a deep breath of mostly fume-free air. I noticed scaffolding in place in the living room, and the hardwood floors were covered in tarps. I only hoped Eva had picked a better color for the downstairs. It made me glad Kane and I were spending all day together. Not that I needed the extra incentive to spend time with Kane.

  I prayed I didn’t mess this up too badly. I’d been trying to think of things to talk about that made me sound interesting and intelligent. I thought about reciting Robert Frost or talking about the Jackson Pollock exhibition I’d gone to last year. If only I knew what we were doing. Kane had said he wanted to surprise me. No one was more surprised than me that this was even happening.

  When the doorbell rang, I jumped. Auggie really needed to replace it. It sounded like a large gong vibrating throughout the house.

  I tiptoed toward the door, giving myself a pep talk as I went. You got this. You didn’t wear a lacy bra, so there should be no snagging incidents. Really, though, just don’t stick your hand down your bra. With that I opened the massive mahogany door to find Kane standing there looking like a magazine ad in khaki shorts that showed off his tapered waist, a tight white tee showcasing his defined muscles, and leather boat shoes.

  He took off his shades and rested them on his head. “Hello,” he drawled while perusing me.

  “Hi.” I sounded like a breathy teenager.

  “You ready to go?” He sounded anxious.

  “Yes.”

  “Good.”

  I walked through the door and shut it behind me. The warm morning air hit me like a wet blanket, but not even the humidity could dampen my spirits.

  Kane walked beside me toward his silver luxury sedan. “You look beautiful,” he said, sounding about as nervous as I felt.

  I wondered why he was nervous. “Thank you. You look beautiful too . . . I mean handsome.”

  He chuckled. “I like to think of myself as beautiful.”

  “Well, you are,” I whispered.

  Before he opened the passenger-side door for me, he tugged on my arm. “You are too. Don’t forget that.”

  Around him, it seemed plausible that I was.

  He opened the door and I slid in. Unfortunately, I wasn’t careful and my dress came up more than I wanted it to. Kane was a gentleman and didn’t draw attention to it. I was glad because my thighs looked like they were smiling with all the dimples.

  When he shut the door, I adjusted my dress before he got in and begged myself not to over obsess about it. Kane knew I didn’t have a runway model body. Victoria’s Secret and I weren’t spending any time together.

  As soon as Kane was settled in his seat, he turned toward me. “Prepare yourself for a day like no other. We will begin with zombies.”

  “Zombies?” I smiled.

  “Yes, ma’am. I noticed you had The Walking Dead on in the background a couple of nights ago when we were talking on the phone. Did you know they do a Big Zombie Tour that takes you around to all the sites they used in Atlanta for filming?”

  Okay, I’d never thought like this about anyone in my life except Benedict Cumberbatch and Landon Drummond, but I wanted to marry Kane. I seriously considered asking him right there. I mean, it would require him to follow me to medical school, put up with Celtic music, and save me from crumbs down my bra for the rest of his life, but I would make it worth it. Not sure how, but I would figure it out for him.

  “I didn’t know that.” I was blown away by his thoughtfulness.

  That seemed to please him, considering how wide his smile was.

  He flipped his shades down. “Let’s go.”

  Yes, let’s go.

  ~*~

  I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous sitting next to Kane on the luxury bus while we headed to our first location. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. Should I rest them in my lap? Keep them clasped? Wring them? I had pretty much done everything I could with my hands while we listened to our tour guide, Michael, who happened to be an actual zombie on the show. He knew all the
insider information. Even who was dating who on the show. Several women on the bus were talking about the juicy gossip while I was trying not to touch my date.

  Kane did things to me. His scent, his body heat, the way he would smile over at me, all had me wanting to crawl onto his lap. This particular reaction had never happened to me before, which made me edgy, even twitchy.

  Kane finally put me out of my misery and rested his hand over mine. “Why are you so nervous?”

  Because I want to accost you even though I’m not sure how to go about that. Thankfully, I kept that to myself. Instead, I stared down at his hand on mine. There was a kind of comfort associated with it that I couldn’t explain. It just felt right.

  His masculine hand bore a thick two-inch scar down the middle. I ran my finger down it, not feeling as nervous. “What happened?”

  “It’s a good story.” His hand clasped mine, our fingers naturally intertwined like they were dancing—he was leading and I followed. We grinned at each other. My heart felt so light I thought it might float out of my chest.

  “I want to hear it.”

  His thumb brushed against my skin. “When I was ten, my dad took me to the Gulf on a deep-sea fishing trip. I was so excited. Unfortunately, I spent most of the trip inside the boat vomiting. Motion sickness is a beast.”

  “Oh no. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. My dad stayed with me the entire time and told me stories about his wild younger days until we got enough Dramamine in me to knock out a horse.”

  I laughed.

  “By the time I could handle being above deck, the boat was about ready to head back to shore. In my desperation to catch a fish, and probably because I was drugged out of my mind,” he chuckled, “I wasn’t very careful when casting my pole. The only thing I caught that day was my hand and some stitches.”

  “That’s awful.”

  He shrugged. “It was the day I discovered I liked women. The nurse was cute.”

  “Sounds like a good day.”