Angel of Redemption (48 page)

“What’s up?”

“Simon left me with a mess to clean up this
morning,” she growls.

“What mess?”

“I don’t know what happened, but he got into an argument
with Brayden and Logan at breakfast, and then they got into a fight with each
other. Now we have two almost-men acting like ten-year-olds upstairs. They
refused to go to school and have been throwing shit and yelling profanities at
each other all day long. Simon just took his ass home without any sort of
explanation.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“To do what? Aiden’s been here all day. He’s
broken up two physical fights. They’re both on restriction until Friday, and if
I hear one more nasty word coming from either of them, they’re done for the
weekend, too.” Emily lets out a huff. “Pains in my ass,” she grumbles.

“Where’s Aiden?” I ask as she walks away.

“In the kitchen with Bill trying to fix the
garbage disposal. I’m leaving to pick up my children.
”

I don’t mean to laugh, but I do. Emily has the
patience of a saint, so knowing that she still has moments of being completely
fed up is reassuring.

“And the boys’ toilet’s clogged again, too. I’m
not touching it,” she yells as the front door shuts behind her.

Walking back to the kitchen, I find Bill and
Aiden sitting at the table drinking coffee.

“I thought the garbage disposal was broken?”

“It was. I fixed it.” Bill nods. I look between
them.

“Did you happen to encounter my wife on your way
in?” Aiden asks. “She’s on the warpath. We’re staying out of her way. I like my
testicles right where they are.”

Bill grunts out a laugh.

“She just left to get the rug rats. You’re safe.”

“Thank God,” Aiden laughs.

“What happened? She said something about Simon,
Logan, and Brayden fighting?”

“I don’t know. I think Simon said something about
their girls and then Brayden said something about Logan’s girlfriend and I
…
Jesus Christ, it’s fucking ridiculous. Neither one would go to school, so I
grounded them. They’ve been biting at each other all day.”

“Everything okay now?”

“Yeah, I sent them to their rooms after the
second fistfight. I’m done with them today.”

I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Aiden, we got
shit to do.”

“I know,” he grimaces.

“And I’ve got a toilet to unclog, I guess,” Bill
adds, standing.

Aiden and I spend the next couple of hours
working through paperwork
—reports that have to be filed with our
board as well as with the licensing agency.

“You know Mom got hotel rooms for the gala again,
right?” He asks as we’re finishing up.

I groan. “Yes.”

“She got a separate one for Kayla.”

“Good.”

My brother raises his eyebrows. “Good? What the
fuck is wrong with you? I thought you two were getting closer.”

“We are, but
…”

“But what?”

“There are a lot of complications.”

“Have you told her?”

I nod. “Last weekend.”

“What’d she say?” he asks, curiously. I don’t
answer. “She understood, didn’t she?”

“Are you finished with that?” I ask, reaching for
the paper in front of him.

He sighs. “I hope you don’t end up pushing her
away, Dean.”

Me, too.

* * *

Kayla appears at
four thirty for Logan’s IL session. I don’t hang around for it. Logan’s still
agitated, and I leave Kayla to deal with him. He listens to her more than me
anyway.

Matty helps me make dinner. He’s in a good mood,
and we spend half the time laughing.

“Hey, guys,” Kayla says, walking into the room as
we’re finishing up.

“Hi,” Matty greets happily. She meets my eyes,
and I wink.

“All done?” I ask, wiping my hands on a
dishtowel.

She nods. “Yep. How are you, kid?” she asks,
bumping Matty with her hip.

“I got an
A
on my math test,” he tells her proudly.

“Awesome! Good job. I knew you could do it.”

He grins and throws the last of the potato chunks
into the pot on the stove.

“We’re done for now, Matty,
” I tell him. “Go
finish your homework and tell the guys it’ll be ready in about forty-five
minutes, okay?”

“Okay. Bye, Kayla.”

“Bye, hon.”

When Matty is out of the room, Kayla steps a
little closer.

“He met with Rebecca today, too,
” I say. I
guess it went well.”

“Good,” she sighs. “That makes me happy. It’s a
step, right?”

“That it is. Any progress with Logan?”

She frowns. “No. He won
’t talk and he’s
refusing to see a therapist.”

“I know.”

“And the fight this morning?”

I shake my head, annoyed. “I think Simon was
being a douche—riling them up because he could. I don’t know what he
said. The boys aren’t talking, and Simon took off. He’ll be here on Friday, so
I
’ll ask him what the fuck happened.

“Speaking of,” Kayla injects. “I’m on call all
day tomorrow and in court on Friday, but I’m leaving early. What time should I
be ready for the gala?” The twinkle is back.

“I’ll be at your place at five thirty.”

She smiles, lowering her head and glancing up at
me. “I’m sorta excited. I don’t get to dress up much.”

“Should be interesting. These things can get
kinda crazy. I hope you still want to be my friend when it’s done.” Kayla
shoves her thumbnail into her mouth. I reach to pull it away, but she lowers
her hand before I have a chance. “Did Warren find a date?”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “Some model from Brazil. Don’t
ask me where he met her. All I know is that she’ll be wearing a bright-red
Versace number.”

“Fascinating.”

“I know, isn’t it?” she giggles. We’re drawn out
of our discussion by a clearing throat. Brayden is standing in the doorway.

“Hello, Miss Kayla.” He smiles.

“Hi, Brayden.”

“You over your temper tantrum?” I ask seriously.
He scowls at me.

“I’ll see you Friday,” Kayla says, sucking in air
through her teeth. I hum and watch her go.

“Friday, huh? She’s your date? Nice.”

I glare at him. “Shut your face, Brayden.”

* * *

“I look like an idiot,” I
grumble, tugging at my collar.

“You do not. You look nice. Now stop doing that,
you’re messing up your tie.”

Emily is helping me with the finishing touches
before I leave to get Kayla. She and my brother stopped by Wyatt House on their
way to the hotel under the guise of picking something up. In reality, they’re
here to make sure I’m not hiding in my office, refusing to leave. I wouldn’t do
that, though. Kayla
’s waiting for me, and I don’t want to disappoint
her.

“All right. Let’s get out of here,
” my
sister-in-law says, smiling. “You have a date to pick up, and I have some fancy
champagne with my name on it.”

I follow her out, locking my office behind me.
Brayden, Curtis, and Edgar are hanging out on the stairs talking to Aiden.
Logan’s still at work. I have no idea where Matty and Eric are. The whistles
and catcalls that come at us make me roll my eyes.

“Daaaaamn, woman.
”

“Watch it now, son,” Aiden warns, eyeballing
Brayden with an amused smile as he whistles at Emily. Brayden sticks his tongue
out between his teeth and waggles his eyebrows.

“If you ever decide to leave Aiden and go cougar
on us, let me know.”

Emily gasps. “I am not old enough to be a cougar,
you little brat!” she squeals, hitting him on the shoulder with her purse.

Brayden jumps away, laughing. “Lookin’ sharp, D.
Can I take the car? I’ll pick up Logan and be home by midnight.”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” I agree automatically. It’s
only after he’s halfway out the door that I realize he should have asked Simon,
since he’s the one on duty for the weekend.

“Brayden!”

He halts and leans back inside. “Yeah?”

“If I get called back here because you guys think
it’s okay to be breaking rules and giving Simon a hard time, you’ll be on
restriction until you graduate.”

Brayden smirks. “Gotcha, captain. Be good, don’t
be a bug up Simon’s ass.” His eyes shift behind me. “Have fun,” he says before
shutting the door.

Aiden wraps Emily’s coat around her shoulders. “We’re
gonna head out. See you there.”

“Yep,” I breathe.

There’s a loud whistle from behind me, making me
cringe. “Wow,” Simon says, his mouth full of the sandwich in his hands. He
swallows and wipes at his mouth. “This party must be serious.”

“Brayden just left. He’s picking up Logan from
work, and they’ll be home at midnight,” I tell him, ignoring his comment.

“Isn’t that my call?” Simon scoffs.

Aiden clears his throat. He knows as well as I do
that I just undermined Simon in front of the boys, which is a big mistake if I
want him to work out. I look over at Edgar and Curtis, whose eyes are darting
back and forth between Simon and me.

“Should have been, yes,” I admit.
“He
asked, I answered. It’s habit. Next time I’ll make sure he knows to ask you.”

Simon just stares at me, probably trying to
figure out if I’m up to something. Taking another bite of his sandwich, he
nods. “Fanx,” he mumbles.

“I’ll be back on Sunday afternoon. Tracey should
be in tomorrow sometime, but call if you need anything.”

“Will do.”

I try to grab my regular coat out of the closet,
but my brother stops me, grabbing a long, black dress coat instead.

“Really?” I groan.

He nods and grins. “Really. You try to get away
with it every year, Dean. I don’t feel like listening to Mom whine all night.”

“She’s not even going to see me before I drop it
off at coat check.”

“She’ll know,” he insists. “She always knows.
Besides, there’ll be pictures.”

I grab the coat roughly and put it on before following
Aiden and Emily out the door.

When I pull into Kayla’s driveway twenty-five
minutes later, there are only a few lights on. I take a deep breath and knock
on the door. No answer. I knock again and wait. Still no answer. I’m beginning
to wonder if she’s reconsidered and stood me up when she yanks it open.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m almost ready. Give me two
seconds,” she says putting on an earring.

I look her up and down. She’s wearing a pretty
modest-looking black gown. The neckline is high, giving me a very small glimpse
of her collarbone. I’m not sure if it’s tantalizing or torturous. Her hair is
partially pulled up away from her face and she’s wearing more makeup than I’ve
ever seen her wear, especially around her eyes. Her lips are bright red,
drawing my attention straight to them. On any given day she’s gorgeous, but
tonight she looks unbelievably stunning. Even in my tux, I feel like I don’t
deserve to have her on my arm. I’m going to have to keep a tight hold on her
all night so the rich douchebag kids of my parents’ associates don’t attack her.

“You look amazing,” I blurt out.

Kayla smiles. “Thank you. I just need to get my
shoes.”

“Okay,” I nod.

When she turns away, I have to brace myself
against the wall.

“Holy shit!”

Kayla

I turn my head to look at
Dean. He appears completely stunned. His hand is braced against the wall, and
his mouth is slightly open.

When I tried on the dress at Warren’s, he had a
similar reaction to the plummeting back. And he
knew
it was there.

“You like?” I ask as Dean runs his hand over his
mouth.

“I
…wha…um…”

I grin. Nothing better than leaving your date
speechless. Running back into the kitchen, I grab my favorite pair of red Jimmy
Choos, a gift to myself for my twenty-fifth birthday. When I return to Dean, he’s
holding my coat. I know he’s going to look at my feet, so I stand in front of
him tapping my toes. As expected, his gaze wanders downward. His eyes go wide
—but
his reaction is not what I expect.

“You can’t wear those shoes,” he chokes.

I look down at my feet and then back up at him. “Why
not?”

“You just can’t.”

“I like my shoes.”

“I do, too.”

I look at him in utter bewilderment. “Then why
can’t I wear them?”

Dean’s hand goes straight to his hair, running
his fingers through it and tugging. He’s almost vibrating, his eyes darting
between my face and my feet. Maybe I should rethink this evening.

“Are you drunk?”

“No! I just
…” He glances back down, a
conflicted look on his face.

I shake my head. “Oh my God. You’re giving me a
complex. Can we just go?
”

Dean helps me into my coat. “Do you have, uh
…
You know my mom got you a room, right?”

I nod. “Emily told me.”

“She does it every time, just in case. I mean, so
we can drink and not have to
…but I can bring you back home…if you want.”

“It’s fine, Dean,” I assure, picking up my
overnight bag and trying to figure out why the hell he’s so nervous. The dress
was meant to turn him on, not turn him crazy. He takes it from me, glancing
down at my feet one last time before heading out the door.

He doesn’t say anything else about my shoes on
the way, but he doesn’t look at me either. I see his eyes shift when I cross my
legs, allowing the length of my leg to show through the dress’s slit, but
otherwise his eyes are glued to the road.

We pull up in front of the swanky hotel. There
are so many people. It makes me nervous. A valet opens my door and helps me
out. He holds onto my hand a little longer than appropriate, but lets go the
instant Dean is at my side. There are photographers taking pictures. I have no
idea if they’re press or part of the PR for Wyatt House, but when they spot
Dean, flashes go off from every direction.

“Shit,” he grumbles, letting his hand slip from
my elbow down to my hand. He greets people hastily as we make our way inside.
There are photographers inside, too, but they aren’t as aggressive. They’re
actually asking most people if they can take their picture, which is much
better than
“Hey, you!”
Click
. At least I’ll have time to open my eyes and smile, instead of
gaping like a dead fish.

We take the elevator up to the ballroom. Dean
helps me remove my coat and hands it to the young girl at the coat check.

“Your dress is gorgeous,” she says quietly when I
turn to run my hands over the small train, making sure it hasn’t bunched up.

“Thank you.” I smile at her.

Dean peels off his own coat. It’s my turn to pick
my jaw up off the floor. Dean Wyatt in a tuxedo is a sight to behold. He tilts
his head and flashes me a cheeky, boyish grin.

“You okay?”

“Uh-huh,” I grunt stupidly.

“Then what’s this for?” he asks, reaching up and
pulling my thumb away from my mouth. My cheeks heat up, and I can feel my ears
burning.

“I’ve never seen you all dressed up.”

“Oh.” He frowns. “Do I look like a complete dick?”

I laugh. “Uh, no, Dean. You look good. Really
good.”

The coat-check girl giggles and takes Dean’s
coat. She disappears into the room for a minute and comes back out, handing him
an envelope, which he slides into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket.

He offers me his hand, and I take it, letting him
guide me toward the ballroom. We’re stopped by a photographer who takes our
picture. I feel really stupid and out of place, but the photographer looks at
his digital display and smiles.

“Beautiful, thank you.”

Walking into the ballroom, I’m in awe. The place
is decorated beautifully, with white-gold linens and colorful flowers centered
on each table. The sun is beginning to set over the city, creating a
spectacular view. Everything is picture perfect.

“Drink?” Dean asks, his head bent down toward my
ear.

“Please,” I beg.

“Champagne or something a little harder?”

“Let’s start with the bubbly. Probably shouldn’t
get drunk before I even see your parents.” Dean chuckles and grabs a couple
flutes from a tray that a waiter is holding out. “So what do we do?” I ask,
sipping my glass and looking around.

“We mingle,” he answers unenthusiastically,
taking a big gulp of champagne.

“Okay,” I shrug. I
’m not used to parties
like this, but I guess I’ll figure it out.

We spend about forty-five minutes simply greeting
people as they arrive, making small talk. Dean keeps at least one hand on me
the whole time, either on my back, my hip, or threaded with mine. It makes me
feel good, like he’s claiming me in front of all these people.

There are a few young women—socialites—milling
about, chattering and drinking champagne. Their eyes flit around the room,
narrowing and widening as they people-watch. None of them seem to have come
with dates, and Dean informs me that they attend these things hoping to latch
on to the young, eligible, wealthy males. Said males attend hoping to get laid
by beautiful, young, air-headed socialites.

As I laugh at his assessment, an older woman
approaches us. She introduces herself as Janice Rochester, an old family
friend. Dean greets her with a kiss to the cheek before excusing himself to go
to the bathroom. Janice talks my ear off. She cannot stop raving about “Alexander
the Great”—her name for Dean’s grandfather
.

“He was so handsome. But stubborn. A lot like his
grandson. I know he’s had his challenges, but your gentleman has a good heart.
He doesn
’t think very highly of himself, though. It’s a shame he doesn’t
see what you and I see. He lets those close-minded dingbats get to him.” She
presses her lips together and then smiles. “You two complement each other very
well. I was here when Joe and Maria welcomed both those boys into the world,
and I hope I’m around to see the beautiful babies you produce. I can imagine
with your youth and his virility that you can’t get enough of each other, so
maybe the babies will come sooner rather than later?”

I cough and clear my throat. “I
…we…uh.”

“No need to be embarrassed, dear. I may be an old
lady, but I understand passion. It’s evident in the way he holds you, the way
he looks at you. Sort of like he’s doing right now.”

I glance over and see Dean talking to a young,
blond woman
—but he’s looking at me. He winks, making me smile.

“See? He’s got one of the easiest tarts in all of
Minneapolis vying for his attention, but he simply cannot take his eyes off
you. That, my dear, is a man in love.”

My heart stutters. I don’t bother to correct her.
If it makes her happy to think that we’re in love, why would I tell her
otherwise? I watch as Dean excuses himself from the obviously perturbed blonde.
She narrows her eyes at me before being surrounded by her pack of hyena
friends.

“Janice,” he nods. “Can I steal my date from you?”

“Of course, dear. She’s all yours.” She leans in
to give me a warm hug. “Babies,” she whispers in my ear, making me snort in an
unladylike manner.

“I’m sorry,” Dean groans, leading me away.

“For what?”

“For leaving you for so long.”

“Oh,” I wave him off. “Don’t worry about it. She’s
a funny lady. I think she had a thing for your grandfather.”

“You
think
?” he teases. “I’m sorry
anyway. I got accosted.”

“I saw. I’m glad you survived.” He looks past me
and groans. “What?” I turn, following his gaze to see his father coming right
for us.

“Kayla, it’s wonderful to see you again,” he
says, kissing my cheek.

“Thank you, Mr. Wyatt,” I reply softly. The man
intimidates me. He has a presence about him that demands respect.

“It’s Joe, please. You make me feel old, calling
me Mr. Wyatt.”

“I used to call Dean ’Mr. Wyatt,
’“ I
laugh.

He chuckles, his eyes flickering over to his son.
“Dean.”

“Dad.”

“Your mother’s been looking for you.”

“Imagine that.”

Joe frowns, but is distracted when his wife comes
up behind him.

“Kayla, you look lovely,” Maria greets, leaning
forward to kiss my cheek. “It’s about time my son found himself a proper date.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dean’s jaw tighten. I squeeze his hand
firmly and feel him squeeze back.

“Well, you know me, Mom. I’m all about being
proper.”

She sighs and turns her attention back to me. “Are
you having a good time?”

“I am. I’m a little bit out of my league, though,
I’m afraid.”

“Oh, hush. You’re doing just fine. I know my
children don’t enjoy these events as much as I do.” She raises her glass of
wine and takes a sip. “However, they are the faces of Wyatt House now and, as
such, must occasionally sacrifice their time to appease the financiers.”

I nod. I don’t know a lot about business, but I
understand people wanting to see what happens with their money. I can feel Dean
growing increasingly irritated beside me and decide to divert.

“Well, he’s been a perfect gentleman and an
exceptional escort, so I can’t complain,” I say. Maria smiles at me. I look toward
the door and see my opportunity. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I see Jose De
Jesus over there and I’d like to ask him a question.”

“By all means,” Joe nods. “Dean, if you don’t
mind, I’d like to speak with you for a minute.”

I hesitate. I was trying to rescue him, and now
it looks like I’m abandoning him.

“I’ll come find you,” he says, looking me in the
eyes before letting go of my hand.

“Okay.” I glance back once to see Joe standing
with his hand on Dean’s shoulder. I still don’t know what to make of Dean’s
parents. I know he
’s had issues with them in the past, but I can’t
criticize. My family’s completely dysfunctional.

While my intention was to ask Jose about Warren,
I don’t actually need to because the man himself is standing out in the foyer,
one hand in his pocket, the other wrapped around a glass of what appears to be
scotch.

“Wow, War,” I whistle. “You are smokin
’.”

His eyes light up when he sees me. “I know. Giorgio
Armani is a fucking genius. But you, Kay. You are the most gorgeous creature in
this room.” He lifts my chin and kisses me gently on the lips.

“Don’t let your date hear you say that,” I warn. “Your
ego may not get stroked tonight.” Warren laughs loudly. “Where is she anyway?”

“Powder room. She has got
tetas y un
culo
like you wouldn’t believe. I couldn’t keep my hands off them.”

“Which would be why you’re just getting here now
even though you left about an hour and a half before me?”

“Mmmm.
Mami
is really good at
stroking my ego.” Warren waggles his eyebrows.

“Jesus, Warren,” I laugh, shaking my head.

I see a woman walking toward us, and all I can
think is
kapow!
She has to be almost six feet tall and is wearing
four-inch heels, making her about three inches taller than Warren. He wasn’t
kidding—her breasts and her booty are…
wow
. She has long raven
hair, big brown eyes with eyelashes that must be fake, and lips that look like
they’ve been sucking on—
oh
.

“Julieta, this is my best friend, Kayla.”

“
Olá
,” she greets, reaching out a
slender arm. “It’s nice to meet you.”

I smile at her heavy accent. She says something
to Warren and he answers. It sounds a little like Spanish, but I know it’s not.

“What was that?”

“Portuguese. She asked if I’ve ever slept with
you.”

“Oh. And what did you tell her?”

“I told her yes.”

I lift my eyebrows and Warren laughs.
“What?
I’ve
slept
with you plenty of times.” After a few seconds of my silence
he shakes his head. “I told her you were saving yourself for that lovely piece
of man walking this way.”

I turn around quickly to see Dean striding
confidently toward us.