Holy Scoundrel (37 page)

Now sitting in her car in Keeneston, she remembered the shivers of fear that had wracked her body and the feel of the cold bite of the February wind. And all she wanted was chocolate. That’s when the idea hit her, the perfect place to hide and the perfect place to indulge in the mother of all chocolate cravings.
She had turned her car towards the interstate and headed to Hershey, Pennsylvania.

Kenna’s lips twitched. She had been right.
Since he had no idea where she was, she was left alone. And in turn, Kenna was surrounded by chocolate for a month. The second night she spent in Hershey, Kenna knew it was time to develop a plan for the rest of her life, or at least for the next phase of her life. Even though she was tempted to apply for the taster’s job opening at the Hershey plant, she decided she couldn’t waste the law degree her parents’ death had paid for. They died when a drunken truck driver jackknifed his semi-truck on a patch of ice, leaving no place for her parents' car to go. The trust they established for Kenna was more than enough to pay for her attendance at law school, and she even had a good part of it left to be able to live off of if she wanted. However, after her parents’ death, Kenna had lost the carefree ways that the life of privilege provided and had gone to law school to learn how to put away drunk drivers for the pain they caused innocent families.

Kenna sat on her bed in the extenda-stay hotel with the smell of chocolate in the air and started looking for a job.
She started with Alabama and worked her way through the states alphabetically, looking for places that were hiring. She kept an eye out for cities that were small but not isolated, cities that Chad the Bastard wouldn’t think of looking for her. But most importantly, cites that were looking for prosecutors. One week later Kenna pumped her fists in the air and jumped up and down on the bed when she saw the opening for a prosecutor seventeen states later. Not too big, not too small… just right.

It was a good thing she had found the opening when she did, Kenna thought to herself. She couldn’t put on any more weight after spending a month in Chocolate Heaven. She pushed the thoughts of the past back in her mind and opened her eyes again. Mayberry was still there. When she was in Hershey the week before, waiting to hear back about an interview, a memory floated up to the surface from some hidden depth of her mind. That memory was Will Ashton. “What the hell,” Kenna thought. It’s not like she had any place else to go and no idea what the future held besides a job application for an assistant district attorney position. Kenna knew her subconscious had led her here to Will Ashton and to Keeneston, Kentucky.

Kenna pulled herself out of her thoughts as she drove up the driveway, surrounded by Bradford pear trees, and made her way towards the bed and breakfast Paige had recommended. “It's picture perfect,” Kenna said to herself as she got out of the car and looked up at the three-story, white brick Victorian.

The green front door opened and a little woman with a helmet of white hair stepped out. "Can I help you, dearie?" she asked Kenna with a soft, Southern tilt to her voice.

"Are you Miss Lily?" Kenna asked as she started up the steps to the wraparound porch.

“Yes, surely I am,” Miss Lily answered, her hands clasped in front of her and with a dishtowel casually draped over her shoulder.

"Paige Davies said you had a room to rent for a couple of nights?"

"Yes, I do have a room for you, dearie.
Come on in." Miss Lily turned and walked into the house, presuming Kenna would follow right behind.

Kenna turned back to her car, grabbed some of her bags out of the trunk, and hurried into the bed and breakfast just behind Miss Lily. The house was huge with a grand entranceway whose focal point was a wide sweeping staircase. There were large, square shaped rooms off to her right and left.

"Over here are the private quarters," Miss Lily said, pointing to the right. "This first room here on the left is the sitting room for our guests. There are books and such in there, and we have a fire at night in the old fireplace. The room behind the staircase is the dining room.”

“I love it.”

“Well then, I'll put you on the second floor. If you go up these stairs here, there will be another sitting room. Your room is off to the left."

“Thank you, Miss Lily. I'm McKenna Mason. It’s nice to meet you, and thank you for making me feel so welcome in your lovely house.”

“Not a problem, dearie. I'll give you a moment to settle in and lunch will be served in an hour,” Miss Lily said as she turned to head into what Kenna guessed to be the kitchen.

Kenna grabbed her bags and headed up a staircase obviously made for a different time, a time when ladies wore ball gowns so large they needed the six-foot wide stairs to sweep down while making a grand entrance for a ball.

The sitting room on the second floor was as large as the entrance way and full of overstuffed furniture and a braided rug on the floor. It was the perfect place to curl up and read a book. Two large windows overlooked the front yard and the street. Kenna turned to her left and opened the door to the Man O' War room. She had seen a lot of Man O' War names and couldn't figure why a large and deadly jelly fish was so prominent in Kentucky. Oh well, another Southern mystery she thought as she tugged her bags into the room.

In the center of the room stood a huge, king-sized, four-poster bed so high up, it had little steps to climb up to get into bed.
A TV was on top of an old oak dresser that ran the length of the opposite wall. A window seat looked out to the side yard and down towards Main Street. A private bathroom with an iron claw tub finished off the room. It was amazing. Just sitting in the room with the white lace curtains billowing softly with a spring breeze coming in the open window was enough to make her feel safe for the first time since she had left New York City.

Kenna unpacked some of her clothes, put them into the drawers, and went to wash up. It was almost time for lunch and amazing smells were coming up from the kitchen. Her mouth started to water as she thought back to the last meal she had at McDonald’s the night before in West Virginia. She finished putting the clothes away and opened the door to head downstairs. The door across the hall from her opened and two impeccably dressed people stepped out. They were dressed casually, well, as casually as you can be dressed in Ralph Lauren, Kenna noted.

"Oh, we have another guest!" sang the women. She was a couple inches taller than Kenna and in her early forties. Her makeup was perfect in that understated way only movie stars could manage. Her blond hair was pulled into a perfect pony tail tied off with a white ribbon. Kenna realized that if one wasn't used to shopping the expensive department stores like she was, one would never know the woman was wealthy, well, except for the eight carat diamond weighing down her ring finger. Compared to this bubbly woman, Kenna felt much older than her twenty-nine years after the pressure and stress of the last month. Kenna pasted on a smile and turned to face the perky couple.

"So we do, honey," her husband said to her. He matched her perfectly. Kenna placed him at fifty years old and dressed in Ralph Lauren jeans and a white button up shirt. His salt and pepper hair was perfectly trimmed. He let his right hand rest lightly at the small of his wife's back.

"Are you here for the sales as well?” Mrs. Perky Ralph Lauren asked Kenna.

"Sales? I didn't see any department stores in Keeneston. I could do a little shopping.” A happy feeling washed over her and Kenna’s smile turned into a real one.
The kind of feeling that only spending money on the perfect pair of sexy shoes or finding that little black dress that hid ten pounds and increased your bust at least one cup size could do for you.

“Oh! Oh, ha, a joke. Good one, little lady.” Mr. Ralph Lauren laughed. Kenna darted a glance back and forth between the couple, and apparently Mrs. Perky picked up on her creased brow and look of utter confusion at the apparent joke she had made.

“Julius, she’s not joking. Dear, I'm so sorry. We thought any visitors would be here for the Keeneland horse sales.”

So, Mr. Ralph Lauren was Julius.
Apparently they had come from out of town, out of state by Kenna’s guess, for horse sales. That was good news for her since she had found out Will still has a horse farm.

“I am so sorry. Since June and I are so horse crazy, I just assumed you were too. I'm Julius Kranski and this is my wife, June.” Julius turned and took his hand off his wife's back to shake Kenna's.

June clasped Kenna's hand and lightly held onto it when she introduced herself to Kenna. "So nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you both. I'm McKenna Mason, but you can just call me Kenna. It’s nice to meet some other people from out of town. Where are you from?” she asked as she looked back at June.

“We have a horse farm in Ocala, Florida,” June said as she smiled and gently squeezed Kenna's hand again.

She's a toucher, Kenna thought as June continued, “I hope we can be friends. I always love coming to Miss Lily’s for the sales. We always meet the most wonderful people.” June continued to talk as Kenna made her way to the dining room for lunch, explaining all about the sales and about the horses they were hoping to buy. Kenna looked around the dining room and noted that it was casually set with a buffet of olive nut and pimento cheese sandwiches. Fresh fruit was in a bowl and a large salad was set in the middle of the round table were Kenna sat with June and Julius.

"Come in, come in. Have a seat just anywhere at the table ya'll. I'll be out in a jiffy with the sweet tea," Miss Lily said as she quickly zipped into the kitchen. Kenna's eyes widened slightly. Miss Lily was remarkably fast for someone in her early seventies. She reappeared with a pitcher of sweet tea, and her white apron was blown back from her flowered dress as her easy spirits sailed across the polished hardwood floors. The room was bright with sun streaming in through the open windows.

Kenna picked up her sweet tea, tentatively gave it a sip, and found that she was pleasantly surprised by the taste. Julius and June began to talk about one of the horses they were hoping to sell and which barns they should go to first when they went to the Keeneland sales after lunch as Kenna listened with half an ear and nibbled at the pimento cheese sandwich. Not bad, she thought and then took a bigger bite.

"So, are these horse sales a big deal? I mean, do lots of people go to them?" Kenna asked while she tried the olive nut sandwich. She was definitely going to have to learn how to make these sandwiches and had a feeling Miss Lily would teach her in a heartbeat if she asked.

"They sure are, hon," Julius told her. "The Keeneland sales bring in tens of millions of dollars every year. There are smaller sales in Florida and some good sized sales in Saratoga, New York. But if you want the next big thing or the best selection, you go to Keeneland."

“It’s also the best place to see the who’s who of racing,” June chimed in. “For example, some Middle Eastern royalty own racing stables. There's a Sheik from some small oil country who's trying to build the next big stable right here in Keeneston. He's not the only royalty. Queen Elizabeth has been known to have a horse or two stabled in the area. She’s also attended the Derby a couple of years ago.”

Kenna though that this was as good a time as any to ask about one of the reasons she had come to Keeneston , "When I was a kid, one of my Nana’s friend’s family had a horse farm here. This morning I found out the Ashtons are still here. Do you know them?"

"The Ashtons!" June practically squealed. She clapped her hands lightly together and beamed at Kenna, "Of course we know them. Everyone knows them. After all, they have Spires Landing at stud on their farm here in Keeneston."

Kenna breathed a sigh of relief and felt a little of the weight lift off her shoulders. Maybe June would know how to get in touch with Will. That would be easier than trying to find the entrance to the farm. She would feel strange just knocking on the door. "So, you think they'll be at the sales?"

"Of course, although I don't know if Betsy and William will be there. But I'm sure someone from the family will be," June said.

Will had gotten married. Kenna knew it was wishful thinking or stupidity on her part to think that after all these years he wouldn't be married. After all, he was a couple years older than she, probably around thirty-two by now. She had heard that he had graduated from the University of Kentucky and played in the NFL for a couple of years, so it was definitely stupid to think him still unmarried. Childhood crush aside, she needed help and he was the one she was depending on to give it to her.

"If you want to go to the sales this afternoon, we'd be happy to take you. Wouldn't we, sugar?" June said, interrupting Kenna's thoughts.

"Of course we would. You just come along with us if you'd like," Julius responded.

Kenna looked at her phone calendar and saw that her appointment with the Keeneston District Attorney's office was scheduled for two days from now, so time was a concern. It was best to go track down Will now and beg him to put in a good word with her potential boss. Or see if he knew of any other jobs in town if she didn't get the D.A. job. "That would be great. Thanks, June, Julius."

After finishing lunch, Kenna went to freshen up before heading out to the sales. She stared at her hair in the mirror and attempted to fluff it, but then it just ended up looking tangled as opposed to that Hollywood, windswept ‘just had great sex’ look. She looked at her clothes hanging in the closet and decided to compensate for not having the ‘just had great sex’ hair with her own Ralph Lauren skin-tight, green cable sweater. Mr. and Mrs. Perky put her in the Ralph Lauren mood. She slipped her small feet into her black Nine West, two-inch heel boots to boost her shortened height up to what she thought of as a normal height. With that, she was ready to go. Wiping sweaty hands on her jeans, she headed downstairs, trying to prepare herself for what would equate to begging and pleading for help finding a job, something she never, never, never did, especially from an old crush she thought as she rolled her eyes, who would probably not even remember her name.