Page 9 of The Last Key (Baker Girls #2)

CHAPTER SEVEN

KENNEDY

“Any luck?” Gladys asks as I sit down next to her at check-in.

I shrug. “Hard to have luck when I don’t even know what I’m looking for.

I updated my résumé, but every time I look at a job posting, my stomach turns.

I think I need to take a break before I get back at it.

My mother told me I should enjoy my time here, and if she is in agreement that I should take a break rather than jump back on the horse, then it’s probably a good plan. ”

“You know we’re all happy to have you here. Maybe you should think about sticking around.”

“My mother suggested that as well.”

My eyes go to Devon, who is laughing with Justin at the edge of the ballroom.

They were taping out where things will go for the reunion.

I love being here with him, even if I don’t quite know what we’re doing besides teasing the hell out of each other.

When he told me he was singing in the shower this morning, I couldn’t breathe.

The bathroom is directly above the kitchen.

Sound carries. And I’m certain I heard my name.

Which means he was getting himself off to the thought of me.

Not that I’m complaining, but I’m still in disbelief.

After all these years, we’re actually tiptoeing toward a line we’ve both obviously considered crossing.

I feel like an idiot. We should probably talk about it all, but I’m having fun flirting with him, teasing him.

Letting him tease me. It’s exhilarating, and it keeps me on my toes, never knowing what will happen next.

“Your mother was surprised to find out you’re out here.”

“Huh?” I say, looking back at Gladys.

She smiles. “Your mom. She didn’t realize you’d flown out here.”

“Oh. Yeah. I booked the flight on a whim and forgot to tell her until I had to cancel lunch. Wait. How do you know that?”

She pats my hand. “Oh, honey. We have a group chat. Your mother, Sharon, and me. After your family moved back east, Sharon and I made it a point to keep in touch. I always loved your mom. All those nights you and Devon spent camping in the backyard, we were inside drinking wine, talking, and laughing.”

“How did I not know that?”

She shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You were camping with Devon.”

Shaking my head, I elbow her in the ribs. “You’re trouble.”

“Never. I just know a good thing when I see it.” She winks at me. “Now, my dear, unless I’m mistaken, you need to get going if you want to be on time to meet Claire.”

My eyes widen as I check the time. “You’re right. Today went by so fast. It was nice spending it here.”

“Can’t say I disagree. I don’t suppose I’d have worked here so long if I didn’t feel that way.”

Leaning down, I kiss her cheek, then grab my bag and head over to the boys.

“I’m headed out. You sure it’s okay that I take your car?” I ask Devon .

He fishes his keys out of his pocket and hands me his car key. “Of course. Justin rented a car, so it works out, anyway.”

“Okay.” I stare at him for a second. A second too long as evidenced by Justin flaring his eyes at me. “Um. I was thinking we should camp in the backyard at some point while I’m here.”

A slow smile spreads over Devon’s face. “Definitely.”

“Sweet. I’ve heard you two talk about that forever. Can’t wait to experience it,” Justin says, and we both turn to look at him.

I’m 90 percent sure he’s fucking with us, but since I don’t know for certain, I say, “Yeah. That would be fun.”

“Of course,” Devon says, not even trying to fake enthusiasm.

“Anyway, I should go,” I say. Then, in a split-second decision, I lean up and kiss Devon on the cheek, something I’ve never really done before.

Hugs? Yes. Snuggling? Sure. Any sort of kissing?

Nope. Not even a little cheek peck. Even though this cheek kiss is more than a peck.

It lingers until I realize what I’m doing and yank my lips away.

My cheeks are burning and his are red too, as Justin watches us like we’re a couple of idiots.

We probably are.

“Have fun with Claire,” Devon says. “And ask her about karaoke Friday night.”

I shake my head. I can’t picture Claire doing karaoke, but sure. “Will do. See you at home.”

The playfulness slips off Devon’s face and his eyes fill with a mix of uncertainty and happiness. It takes me a minute to realize it’s because I said home.

“Yeah. Drive safe,” he tells me.

I nod and wave as I hurry out of the building.

My mind races as I climb into the driver’s seat of his 4Runner and put the key in the ignition.

Am I really thinking of his house as home?

My heart pounds as I hear the answer that both surprises and excites me.

Yes.

Claire Daniels is the definition of a boss bitch.

She worked her way up at Bloom Beauty and has been the CEO for the last several years.

The makeup company has stores all across North America, and is working on breaking into Europe.

Claire runs on cigarettes, coffee, and wine and has a general bad bitch attitude that both intimidates and opens doors.

Career driven with a fuck-around-and-find-out vibe.

We couldn’t be more different. Yet, we became fast, if unlikely, friends soon after we met when I first moved to Brighton.

She and Devon had been friends since childhood when she went to the small daycare Devon’s mom ran out of the inn.

They stayed close over the years, and he introduced me.

Maybe it’s because our personalities are so opposite that we work. Rather than clash, we balance each other. I keep her in check and she challenges me, never afraid to give me a dose of reality when I need it.

She looks gorgeous as usual as she struts through the wine bar in black sky-high heels and designer clothes. Her long brown hair is perfectly straightened and her makeup is immaculate.

I’m in a pair of tight black jeans, a loose tank, and an unbuttoned flannel shirt with flats. I’m rocking yesterday’s curls, a swipe of lip gloss, tinted moisturizer, and barely lined eyes. Normally, I might add mascara to the mix, but I forgot to pack mine.

“Sorry I’m late,” she says as she gets to the table where I’m sitting, already sipping on wine. “Some fucker cut me off, and I got stuck at a red light that lasted at least five minutes.”

“Good to see you, too.”

“Sorry.” She slips her coat off and sets her bag down, then smiles at me. “It is good to see you. Especially here. How long are you staying?”

A waiter brings her a glass of wine without asking and she thanks him by name .

“Come here often?”

“At least twice a week. More if I don’t have a business meeting involving drinks. I refuse to defile my sacred space with business.”

“Makes sense. And as for how long I’m staying… at least until the reunion, if not longer. I’m enjoying taking some time away for once.”

“How is it being back in Brighton?”

“Better than I thought it would be.”

“And staying with Devon?” She smiles evilly over the rim of her glass.

This is where I would roll my eyes, but things haven’t been typical between us.

“Interesting,” I say honestly.

One perfectly tweezed eyebrow lifts. “Interesting? What does that mean?”

“We’ve been… flirting a bit.”

“Wow. It only took seventeen years to see some progress. Seriously, I don’t understand why you’ve never hooked up with him. Your lady bits need some love. Now you’re sharing a house with him?—”

“And a bed.”

She laughs. “Shut the fuck up. You’re sleeping in the same bed and you haven’t fucked him? Babe, what are you doing? Why don’t you make a move?”

I swirl the wine around in my glass, then glance out the window.

“Because it’s not that simple. I don’t know what he wants, and if it’s not me, that would crush me.”

“So instead, you’re going to keep giving each other blue balls until you can’t think straight anymore? How do you not see how he looks at you?”

I flip my hand through my hair, then meet her fierce gaze. “Maybe I’m starting to.”

“Then don’t be a dumbass. Take your shot.”

We stare at each other for a moment. No one will win this standoff, so I roll my eyes, signaling it’s time to move on.

“How’s the makeup business?”

“A lot uglier behind the scenes. It’s growing, though. London is giving us shit about trying to get a store open there. The number of hoops we have to jump through is ungodly. Business is good here, except Brighton. That fucking store can bite my ass.”

“Why don’t you close it?”

“Because it’s Brighton.”

“Aw, look at you being sentimental.”

She sips her wine, then looks at me pointedly. “Tell anyone, and I’ll kick your ass. You know I can take you.”

“Beat my ass is more like it. Yoga and walking are the only forms of exercise I do.”

“If you’re sticking around, I could use your help.”

I choke on my sip of wine. “Mine? I’m not exactly the best person to sell makeup.”

“We both know the store sells more than that. And the tinted moisturizer you’re wearing, your favorite face wash, and the sunscreen you love all come from there, too.

What I need is more help with Brighton than the makeup.

One of the girls is out on maternity leave.

Any chance you want to fill in? Work your Kennedy magic and talk with the customers?

Figure out why they like coming there—or don’t.

I don’t know, but I’ve got to figure out how to get people in the door. ”

I shrug. “Sure, why not? When do you need me?”

“Tomorrow?”

“This was a trap, wasn’t it?”

She smiles wickedly. “Nope. Just convenient. Nine to two, okay? Call me after and tell me what you learned?”

“What am I? Your spy?”

“If that makes you feel more badass, sure.”

“Great.”

I take a drink of my wine.

“Hey. ”

“Hm?”

“I really have missed you, babe.”

“Yeah, I’ve missed you, too.”

We tip our wine glasses together and smile.

We may be different as hell, but our friendship is one of the longest lasting I’ve ever had.

We don’t get to see each other often anymore, but no matter what, we’ve always got each other’s backs.

We don’t worry about talking every day because our friendship remains strong regardless.

And whenever we’re together, it’s like no time has passed.