I stop myself from dropping my jaw when Kelly opens the door after my first knock.
Her auburn hair is down, falling in soft waves around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a tight pink T-shirt and a black miniskirt with black tights and boots.
Not exactly what I was expecting.
“You ready?” I make myself say.
“Yeah.” She grabs a black handbag from the table next to the door and joins me in the hallway.
Am I allowed to tell her she looks nice? Because she does. She’s beautiful, even with her shitty attitude. I can’t help but appreciate her loveliness. She has full pink lips, amazing blue eyes, and the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen.
Maybe they’re fake. Hell, I don’t know. Whatever they are, they work for her.
Without talking, we walk to the elevator, where I hit the up button. It opens almost instantly, and I hold out my hand for her to precede me in. She looks at me kind of funny, but then she goes in, and I follow. I hit the button for the eighth floor, and the elevator’s so quick, we’re there almost instantly. We walk a few steps to apartment 810, and I knock.
Aspen opens the door, looking radiant as always with her short hair. She’s also wearing a miniskirt. Hers is denim, and her legs are bare, although she’s also wearing black boots.
“Leif, Kelly. Come on in.” She holds the door open for us, letting her gaze rest on Kelly for a little longer than normal.
I inhale the robust scent of tomatoes and cheese. “It smells great in here.”
“Do you like lasagna, Kelly?” Aspen asks.
Kelly nods but doesn’t say anything yet.
“Good. Buck and I are having a glass of Chianti. What can I get the two of you?”
I defer to Kelly, glancing at her.
Kelly looks at each one of us. “Oh, am I supposed to respond first? I don’t drink very much. Maybe I’ll just start with some water.”
“Absolutely. And you, Leif?”
“I’ll try a glass of the wine.”
In truth I prefer a good bourbon to wine, but hey, an Italian meal calls for Chianti.
Aspen leads us to the living room, which is a lot larger than mine. “Have a seat, you two. Buck is in the kitchen, and I’ll be out with your drinks in just a minute.”
Two glasses of wine already sit on the coffee table. Buck and Aspen’s, presumably.
I take a chair. Kelly takes another, leaving the couch for Aspen and Buck. She stares down at her lap, clasping her hands in front of her. She feels out of place, which is no surprise.
But part of me is glad she came. She’s not drinking, so I can’t depend on alcohol to open her up. That’s not how I want her to open up anyway. If she’s going to talk to me, I don’t want it to be chemically induced. I think she has a rough story, and while I don’t want to pry, knowing what she’s been through will help me be able to protect her better. See to her safety.
Is it okay to tell her she looks nice tonight?
That’s what I would say to any woman who looks nice.
So I clear my throat. “You look very nice tonight, Kelly.”
She doesn’t glance up at me, and she says nothing.
Okay… Perhaps not the best opener.
“Apparently Buck makes a great lasagna,” I say. “He’s Italian. His last name is Moreno.”
Again, she doesn’t look up, and she says nothing.
Lord, this is going to be a long night.
If I hadn’t invited Kelly, I could be having a nice dinner with Buck and Aspen tonight. Instead, I have to think about every word I say and sit here watching a woman who is clearly uncomfortable and doesn’t want to be here.
Why the hell did you say yes, then?
The words hover at the edge of my lips, but I won’t say them. I’m a polite guy. I treat women with respect, even when they haven’t earned it.
Kelly is the way she is for a reason, though. People don’t become this harsh overnight. She’s been through hell, but so has Aspen, and she’s one of the nicest people I know.
But…Buck has told me her story, about how she nearly let revenge eat her alive.
So I need to give Kelly a break.
She deserves that much.
Aspen returns with a glass of wine for me and a glass of water for Kelly. Kelly mumbles her thanks and places it on a coaster on the small table between our two chairs.
Aspen takes a seat on the couch across from us, picks up one of the wineglasses, takes a sip and then swirls the burgundy liquid in the glass. “I love a nice Chianti, don’t you?”
Was that a question for me? I swirl the wine in my own glass and take a sip. It tastes like red wine. I’m no wine connoisseur. White wine tastes like white wine and red wine tastes like red wine.
“It’s very good,” I say.
“Buck will be out in a few minutes. He’s putting the lasagna in the oven.”
Oh, God, that’s right. Aspen originally invited me at seven thirty, and then at six o’clock so we could talk.
It’s going to be a freaking hour and a half before dinner is ready.
If Kelly doesn’t start talking, that ninety minutes is going to seem like a year.