Naughty or Nice?

2. Kendall

CHAPTER 2

Kendall

Nate’s words are so unexpected, so damn out of nowhere, I laugh .

Seconds go by, where I fill the awkward silence with the sound of this nervous laugh. This disbelieving laugh where I shake my head and eye Nate as if he’s told me he’s moving to Mars. I trail off when he does nothing but remain silent.

When the just kidding doesn’t come.

A sudden coldness blows through my lungs and makes me short of breath. I sputter out what little air I do have, trying to piece a thought together. Some kind of words that make sense. Only two come to mind.

“You’re… serious?” I ask.

He nods. “Yeah, very.”

“But… but…” I trail off again, completely lost.

Completely fucking thrown by what he’s saying.

It feels as if I’ve fallen asleep and I’m dreaming. I’m experiencing some nightmare that I’ll hopefully wake up from any second.

“I meant to tell you before you got here,” he confesses, his tone somber. He scratches at his chin, back to avoiding my gaze.

“Before I got here? How about before we got engaged?!”

“I know, I know. It… it was a mistake. But every time I wanted to bring it up, you were so excited. You were gushing about the wedding or about starting a family. You were dragging me off to Georgia to tell your family?—”

“You said you wanted to come!” I interrupt in outrage, growing louder. Emotion floods me, the anguish filling my voice and stabbing me in the heart. “You told me it would be an honor to ask my mother and brother for my hand!”

“That’s because… well… I felt pressured…”

“Fuck you, Nate! I never asked you to propose. I damn sure wouldn’t want you to if it’s not what you wanted! How could you? Why… why would you?”

“Look, lower your voice.” His features tighten as if inconvenienced, as if my outburst annoys him. “I’m up for a promotion, Kendall. The bachelors don’t get the top-tier positions in the company. Those are reserved for the family men. It might’ve made me think I was ready for the next step when I wasn’t.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“You’re great. You’re a good woman. I don’t want to hurt you. But I also don’t think it would be fair to anybody if we spent this holiday pretending to be engaged and in love when that’s not true.”

“Speak for yourself. I wasn’t pretending. I was in love!” I choke out, a tightness in my chest. My heart aches. My stomach churns. I feel sick. I feel lightheaded. Tears wet my eyes as I blink and realize I still can’t process what I’m being told.

“Kendall, there’s someone else,” he sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “It wasn’t planned. But I hired a new secretary and things… things have gotten physical. I can never be with her either—she’s just a secretary—but it made me realize even more that you’re not my type. I don’t think we’re compatible.”

And I didn’t think it could get any worse.

My hands shake as they come up to cover my face, and I struggle to calm myself down. My very bones feel like they’re quivering from the inside, like I won’t be able to stand much longer without the shock and heartbreak knocking me down.

“This can’t be happening,” I mutter. “You can’t be for real right now. You’re fucking cheating on me, Nate? Seriously?”

“Rosa and I… the passion…”

“I don’t want to fucking know!” I scream so loud, my voice breaks. “You think I want to hear about how you’ve been fucking some other woman? DON’T TOUCH ME!”

He’s taken a step toward me as if to put his arms around me.

I back away, almost tripping over my own two feet. I’m so overcome with disgust that I can’t be in this room with him another second. I can’t bear the sight of him.

Breathe the same air as him.

Get out. Leave. Now.

I stumble through the bedroom, dizzy and teary-eyed, ignoring Nate’s desperate calls.

Nicholas is out in the hall when I wrench open the door to escape Nate. His father has just come up the stairs, probably after hearing the screams from the den. His brow wrinkles at the sight of me as I rush past him and Nate tries to chase after me.

“Kendall, will you slow down? You’re being hysterical.”

“Get away from me!”

“Where are you going? It’s dark out?—”

“I need to get away from you!”

“You don’t know Morrow, do you? There’re no hotels available this close to the holiday.”

“I don’t give a fuck!”

As I’ve rushed down the stairs and Nate’s followed, Nicholas has trailed behind us. The other Whittler family members have wandered out into the ground floor hall too—his sisters gape at us in confused shock while Uncle Roy asks everybody to calm down.

They’re invisible to me.

All of them.

As nice and welcoming as they’ve been, I’m on the verge of a meltdown. I’m blinded by the intense heartache that’s made it difficult to do the simplest of things.

Breathe. Think. Move.

I grab my coat from the coat rack and quickly shrug it on.

“Kendall, where are you going?” Nicholas asks, inserting himself between me and his son. “Please allow me to drive you?—”

“I need to get out of here… away… t-thank you for…” I can’t even finish my sentence, my voice going out. I shake my head, the tears streaming down my cheek, and I turn toward the door.

His family erupts in more confused protests. Nate’s sisters launch into scolding attacks, asking him what he’s done to make me so upset. His cousin is the lone person rallying to his defense, pointing out I’m the guest, and if I want to leave, so be it.

I rush out into the frigid cold, struggling with my two pieces of luggage. It’s not until I reach the curb that I bother to stop, husking out desperate breaths that frost in front of me. My hand trembles as it pulls out my phone and I type in local hotels.

Someone has to have a room available. At least for the night.

I doubt I’ll be able to arrange a flight out tonight. Especially this close to the holiday, and this far away from the airport.

“I’m sorry,” says the receptionist at the third hotel I dial. “We are fully booked until New Years. May I suggest you try the Morrow Inn?”

“I’ve already called them. They have no rooms available.”

“Then I’m sorry, you might need to try the other towns in the surrounding area.”

The receptionist hangs up, the dial tone humming in my ear.

A stiff breath leaves me as I return to the Google search results. What the hell am I going to do tonight?

I can’t go back inside the Whittler home, where Nate will be, where I’ll feel even more foolish and ridiculous than I already feel.

Maybe I can arrange an Uber to the airport and stay there until I’m able to find a flight sometime in the next day or two…

A heavy hand clamps down on my shoulder, sending a shockwave of warmth through me. I glance up, aware I must look a mess—I’ve cried off any makeup I was wearing and I’m sniffling like I’ve caught a cold. The wind has blown through and mussed my once sleek silk press.

As I look up, my gaze meets two hazel eyes I’m familiar with.

But not the hazel eyes of Nate. The hazel eyes of Nicholas .

He’s come out to check on me while the others enjoy the glowing warmth inside the house.

“If you won’t come back in, then let me drive you where you need to go,” he says in his husky voice. “Were you able to find a hotel?”

I sniffle again, tearing my gaze away with a shake of my head. “Everything’s booked. I’m just… I’m going to go to the airport and… I’ll figure something out.”

“Absolutely not,” he replies. “It’s getting late, and you’ll be stuck there through the night. Allow me to offer you my other home.”

“Other… home?”

“It’s the property I use for Airbnb. I normally rent it out but decided not to this Christmas. Looks like that was a good call. It’s only a couple blocks down the road. I’ll drive you.”

“No, I can’t do that. I can’t stay in your home?—”

“From what I’ve heard, my son’s done a number on you. After inviting you to our home for Christmas. I’ll be handling him soon enough. I’ve taught him better than that. But in the meantime, allow me to fix what I can. Give you a private place to stay as long as you need.”

I let his offer linger in the air, swallowing against the lump of emotion trapped in my throat. I’ve reached a point where I’ve cried all the tears I can—at least for now—and I’ve exhausted myself. The only thing I want to do is get out of this cold, take a hot shower, collapse in a bed, and bury myself under blankets to wallow in my heartbreak.

Nicholas’s offer is the quickest, most sensible way to have those things.

Slowly, I nod. “Okay… for tonight. If you really don’t mind.”

“Trust me, darling, I don’t one bit. My Range Rover is parked in the drive. Let’s go.”

Just like that, I’m turning to follow Nicholas toward his car. The curtains flutter in the house windows, telling me the rest of the family is peeking out. They’re probably wondering where I’m going.

Is Nate one of them? Does he even care I’m leaving?

Probably not.

You’re not my type. I don’t think we’re compatible.

The words echo inside my head as I strap myself into the passenger seat. Nathan clearly never loved me like I loved him. He used me as some pawn in his game of Climb the Corporate Ladder. I was some means to an end.

The bachelors don’t get the top-tier positions in the company. Those are reserved for the family men. It might’ve made me think I was ready for the next step when I wasn’t.

How could I fall for a guy who was willing to use me like this? How could I be so blind by my love for him that I didn’t see what must’ve been right in front of me?

Nicholas seems to sense I’m lost in my thoughts. Starting up the engine to his Range Rover, he casts me a sympathetic frown, and then says, “We’ll be there soon. Then you never have to see him again.”

I wake the next morning feeling as if I’ve been run over a few times. An accurate description considering what I went through last night. My body aches, my heart aches, everything aches.

I roll over and wrench the blanket over my head.

It’s already 11 a.m., yet I feel like I could sleep a thousand more years.

The one saving grace from what happened with Nate is that his father came through. He drove me to the property on the other side of town that he normally reserves for Airbnb guests visiting Morrow.

The home’s small but nice, quiet and clean. It’s what most would call a starter home. The kind of home I could’ve seen me and Nate living in as newlyweds…

That’s over.

We’re done.

I scrub my hands over my face and let out another feeble cry. It’s become a reoccurring thing, where one second I’m sullen and silent, and then I’m attacked by an onslaught of tears. I’m powerless as another wave of emotion crashes over me.

An hour passes before I finally crawl out of bed.

Outside the day resembles yesterday—gray skies, thick clouds, frosty air.

After finding enough energy to make a cup of coffee in the kitchen using the K-cup machine and complementary pods available, I search for a flight out of town. The quickest, easiest way to get me out of Morrow and far away from Nate.

Maybe I can forget he ever existed. I can pretend our disaster of a relationship never happened.

“This can’t be,” I mutter under my breath. “Everything can’t be booked. That’s ridiculous!”

The only flight I do find is a regional flight out of Morrow, North Carolina to South Carolina. But it’s not until tomorrow afternoon and it still doesn’t get me home to Georgia.

“Fine. I’ll take it. I’ll just have to book a hotel there until I can catch a flight to Atlanta.”

It’s not long before I return to bed.

The early afternoon passes, soon darkening into a cold evening like last night.

My head pounds as I sit up in bed and realize I’ve slept almost the entire twenty-four hours here. Meanwhile, Nate’s probably celebrating the holidays with his family. He’s probably not even thinking of me.

He might even be with his secretary, sharing in the passion he’d boasted about.

Rosa.

I fight off the urge to cry all over again. I’ve shed enough tears over him. He obviously never loved me and doesn’t deserve another thought. After how much of a fool he’s made out of me, he deserves nothing.

Feeling angry and self-righteous, I jump out of bed and rush to my suitcase. I can’t stay here moping the night away. I need fresh air; I need to cheer myself up somehow.

There’s a strip of local restaurants and bars downtown.

Maybe I can stop by for a drink… or something, anything, that’ll make me feel better.

For the next fifteen minutes, I try to make myself presentable, slipping on a sweater dress and some boots. I apply some mascara and berry-tinged lipstick and order an Uber.

If I’m going to be stuck in Morrow for another night, I’m going to prove to Nate—and myself—that I don’t need him.