Iced Romance (22 page)

“Kennedy, how does it feel to be part of a modern Cinderella story?”

“How long did it take you to realize that you’d made a mistake?”

“Why did you choose to become a waitress here when you have millions of dollars at home with your fiancé?”

“Kennedy, do you regret pawning your engagement ring now? Or was it all just an elaborate scheme to get yourself a bigger one now that you and Todd are getting back together?”

I hold onto the counter with both hands in a vain attempt to steady myself. Reporters are crammed into the restaurant, snapping pictures and yelling things at me. I see Max in the corner, handing out his business cards and telling anyone who will listen about his special seniors deals on Mondays. Christine is beaming and posing at my side, and only Leila seems as shell shocked as I feel.

And then I see him. In the middle of the reporters, right in the center aisle where the waitresses usually stand to take orders, behind a shield of roses, stands someone I never thought I would see again.

Tall, blonde, and as good looking as ever. His shoulders are back, his head held high. He does not look like the contrite cheater I had imagined. He is laughing with a female reporter standing beside him, and, as if to prove that he’s the hottest thing since sliced bread, he’s wearing his Avalanche jersey.

Todd.

I feel a rush of emotions. Is this why women in the 1800s used to faint all the time? Or, I guess the proper word is, swoon. I feel like swooning.

All the things I had planned to say to Todd if I ever saw him again leave my mind and I am completely empty.

“Kennedy, babe.” Todd tosses a bouquet of what must be four dozen roses onto a table and strides up to me. He leans across the counter and smiles that famous smile.

Beside me Christine makes a squealing sound like a baby pig and she begins batting her eyelashes furiously. Leila steps away, and I am suddenly alone, facing my enemy.

Todd holds out his hand and the diner falls silent. The reporters crowd in, cameras clicking away, pens moving furiously across notepads as they write down every detail.

“What are you doing here?” I whisper, my face completely devoid of blood. My hands are clammy and cold and my knees are shaking.

“Babe, I am here to beg your forgiveness.” Todd shoots a cocky smile over at the reporters and allows them to get a couple pictures of him holding my hands across the counter. “I was wrong to have cheated on you, but really I was cheating on myself. I destroyed something I value the most and I am here to get that back.”

His words are everything I have been wishing he’d say for the past three weeks. His eyes meet mine and I remember all the good times we had. I’m brought back to the way I felt that first night in that club when we met and I stared into his eyes the same way I am now.

Todd steps around the counter and bends down, kissing my forehead. “Babe, we belong together. I’m willing to forgive you stealing my Ovechkin jersey and then giving it back to me as a, what is it, a quilt?” he pauses and looks over at the reporters. With a twinkle in his eye, he says jovially, “I’ll have to tell you all that story a bit later.”

I feel another flood of shame thinking about the darn jersey. In a weird way, I want justice, I want to be punished for destroying it, almost to prove to myself that I am not a horrible person. “I shouldn’t have done that,” I whisper so only Todd can hear. “I’m so sorry for stealing it, and—”

Todd holds up his hand, cutting me off. He chuckles loudly, winks at the cameras, and turns back to me. “Let bygones be bygones. I made mistakes, you made mistakes. It’s in the past, doll. I’ll forgive you if you forgive me. We’ve been together too long to throw all this away. Babe, we love each other.”

Love.

Love is such a funny thing. Do I love Todd? I used to. But now there’s David, who may or may not actually loathe me at the moment
.

Love.

And what was that other word Todd used?

Belonging.

Where do I belong? I haven’t had a home, a real home, ever, at least that I can remember. Even when I was a kid, home always felt foreign to me.

I know I look a mess. I’m wearing a vomit-colored uniform with dodgy stains, flip flops, and no make-up. My hair is in disarray, much like my life. Plus I’ve been crying. Could it be true that Todd loves me despite this?

“I . . .” I don’t know what to say. My hands shake even with Todd holding them, and I am afraid.

What am I supposed to do?

“Babe, marry me. Right now. I’ve got the Orlando Marriott hotel booked. We’ll get married tomorrow. Honeymoon to Paris and then back in time for my next game against the Flames. The past will be history. What’s done is done. Marry me.” He plants a kiss on my cracked lips. He is smooth and the taste and texture of his face is so familiar. It’s like the last few weeks never happened.

Maybe this is what belonging actually feels like. Maybe I do belong with Todd after all. I mean, he did find me. He came all this way.

But what about David, an annoying voice pipes up in the back of my head. What about how you feel so safe with him? What about the life you could potentially have together?

And then Todd is kissing me again and my battered emotions feel like maybe I’ve just been given a Band-Aid, a second chance. Maybe happiness isn’t such an unattainable goal.

My head swirls and when he murmurs again in my ear “Babe, marry me,” I nod my head.

“Okay.”

The past is passed, right? And clearly Todd is sorry for cheating and lying about it.

Isn’t he?

1 Draft Message—Unsent

From:
[email protected]
To:
[email protected]

David,

I don’t know how to say this exactly, but I

I know I told you I was falling for you, but I think I may have been mistaken. See, I’m going to marry Todd tomorrow and I think it’s probably better that way, right?

I miss you.

You deserve better than me.

I don’t know what you’ve heard about everything, but I’m glad that we decided to just be friends because . . .

So I stayed in the suite. And when Emily came knocking on the door, I ignored it. Pretended I wasn’t here.

The minutes dragged and I felt like I was caught in some weird time trap, like something you’d see on
Stargate SG-1
.

I’m staring out the window now, down at the lights of Orlando below. Palm trees sway, gorgeous mansions on the street next to us are lit up, every room displaying masterpieces and gorgeous sculptures. I’ve showered, cried some more, and blow dried my hair. I find some of my designer Rachel Gilbert clothes hanging in the closet and make a mental note to thank Todd’s assistant when I see him again.

I look beautiful.

On the street below me, people are chatting and laughing, climbing in and out of cabs and kissing each other on the cheek. The world is alive. So why do I feel so dead?

I miss David.

I step away from the window and sit on the bed. No. Wrong. I am not about to do this. I missed Todd the whole time I was with David and now I’m going to do the same thing in reverse.

Stop it.

Besides, David doesn’t want me. Not really. He let me walk away and he was so silent, so abrupt. He claimed he’d fight for me, but then when I walked, he let me. When I needed his arms around me the most, he’d left me all alone.

I still have thirty minutes before Todd comes back and gets me for dinner. I’m dreading it. The dinner, that is. Not having Todd back. But having to smile and fake conversations with Emily and the gang? Probably what witches in the 1700s felt when they were on trial. I’m sure I’ll be bombarded with questions about why I left and what I was thinking.

I need normalcy.

I wish I was in my own apartment right now. I wish I had my low-income waitress life back.

But I don’t. That was then, this is now, just like Leila told me a few days ago.

With heavy fingers, I punch in the number for Leila’s cell. I’ll talk to her. I’ve got to tell her what’s going on. She has been such a good friend, she deserves to know that I’m not coming back to work.

“Hello?”

“Leila? It’s me.” Now that I have her on the phone, I don’t know exactly what to say. Luckily, Leila seems to have words to spare.

“Kennedy, girl? My goodness, what the heck happened today? You’re marrying Todd?
Todd
? Dirty scum bucket? I mean, he cheated on you! You’re going to let him back into your life?”

I cut her off before she can go full steam into a rant. “Leila, look, I don’t know everything right now, but I’ve been with Todd for years. We know each other. I want this.”

“You want this.” She doesn’t sound convinced.

“Yes,” I repeat defiantly. “I want to marry him.”

“And what about David?”

Hearing his name makes my heart hurt. “He didn’t want me.” My voice cracks and I try to hold it together. “Remember? He got so angry at me. He didn’t want me.”

Part of me wants to argue that point, that he kind of did want me, just didn’t want to share me with Todd’s memories, but I don’t have the energy.

There is a heavy pause and then Leila says slowly, choosing her words with care, “He came in today, looking for you. About two hours after you left with Todd.” There is another pause, the seconds feeling like hours.

“He did?” My voice is flat, almost emotionless.

“He said he’d tried calling you yesterday about fifty times but you hadn’t answered. He said he had been out of line and he needed to talk to you.”

“What did you tell him?” I feel so much hope, and I don’t know why.

“I told him the truth. I said that your ex-fiancé had come by and that you’d gotten back with him.” Her words are defiant, as if she is daring me to get angry about it. “What would you have wanted me to say?”

I wanted to you to say that I love him, I think. That I’m confused and I have no idea what to do. Instead I hear myself tell Leila, “It’s okay. That’s exactly what you should have said.” My voice quavers.. I have never been this miserable in my entire life, not even when I first heard that Todd had been caught cheating.

“Are you doing all right?” Leila sounds concerned. I can picture her, steady, reliable, sure of herself, with her dreadlocks and a pack of cigarettes, probably sipping a pilfered soda. I wish she was here with me. I need someone to hold me up right now.

“I’m fine.”

The door beeps and I see the red light turn green, indicating that someone has used their key card. Todd walks in the door, the smell of cigars and vodka drifting over to me.

“Babe!” Todd comes across the room, so big and so . . . so Todd.

“I gotta go,” I tell Leila. She says good luck and goodbye and I turn to Todd. “Hi. How was your little get together with the guys?”

Todd plants a sloppy kiss on my lips and beams at me. “Good, good. Ready to go to dinner?”

I stand up and turn in a circle. “Yep, do you like my dress?”

“Yeah, yeah, you look nice. Let’s go.” He barely glances at me, too busy staring at his own reflection and re-rumpling his hair to get it to fall perfectly into his ‘bad boy who doesn’t care about his hair’ look.

He takes my arm and leads me out into the muted lighting in the carpeted hall. We walk silently to the elevator and he punches the button for the main floor. Being with him is both foreign and familiar. I have nothing to say to him and it’s as if I am on a first date all over again. But at the same time, it’s almost as though we know each other so well we don’t
have
to talk. Like we belong together, like he had said at Maxie’s earlier.

Maybe we do.

I look up at him and brush a strand of hair off his jacket. “So who’s going to be at dinner?”

“Jonny, Emily, Mark and his girl, probably a few other guys.” Todd grins at me. “See, this is where you belong, Kennedy. Glad you’re back.” It’s like he read my mind. Belong. It’s fate.

“Really?” I look up at him and search his face. “You missed me?” Please say it. Please tell me I’m beautiful and that you love me. I would give anything to hear those words at this instant.

“Yeah, of course. Now, don’t worry. After dinner I’ll let you and Emily have some girl time, plan all your wedding stuff. As long as we have time to party tonight, you and me, I don’t care how long you talk about wedding gowns.” Todd guffaws and squeezes my arm.

I’ve never realized how vulgar he sounds even when he’s not intending to be. He’s not a gentleman, and the thought shocks me.

I push it away and pull my shoulders back. Then, with Todd holding onto me, we step out into the lobby and into a myriad of photographers, calling questions, flashing their cameras and waving. I smile, nod, pose alongside my fiancé. It’s the same old drill, and I’ve done it hundreds of times before.

And then we step out into the waiting limousine and speed off into the humid, Orlando night.