Natural Blond Instincts

pierced, attitude-ridden teens.

And Sarah dealt with this every day.

Here was life, here was reality, and not understanding what drove her, Kenna got out of the car. Strange as it seemed, she understood these girls, not because she’d had to scrape by just to survive in her youth. Everyone knew she hadn’t. No, she under stood because they didn’t fit in, and neither did she.

Two insolent gazes met hers as she entered the yard.

Kenna offered a smile. “Hi.”

They looked at each other first before reacting. “Hey,” one of them said reluctantly.

The other just looked at her.

“Is Sarah here?” Kenna asked.

“Yes, and she already knows I’m smoking,” Tat too Crack said, but she dropped the cigarette and ground her heel into it. She looked down at the thing a little guiltily before squatting down to dig a hole in the dirt. She then dropped the used cigarette into it, and carefully covered it back up.

Kenna met her gaze.

“She really does know,” the girl said, straightening, shoving her hands into her back pockets.

As one who’d seriously tested the adults in her life at this age, Kenna nodded sagely. “Sure.”

The girl narrowed her gaze, looking for all the world like a young child trying to be a grown woman. “You’re laughing at me.”

“Nope. If you want to kill yourself, go right ahead.”

“Kill myself? Oh, Christ, you’re not referring to those stupid commercials.”

“I guess I am.”

“They don’t know what they’re talking about. If smoking is so bad, they should make it illegal.”

Kenna shook her head. “Should they make every thing bad for you illegal? Because I gotta admit, I’d miss double mochas, caramel popcorn and cheesy omelets.”

“What?”

“Caffeine and salt and cholesterol are killers, too.”

“That’s just stupid.”

“Yeah. But I figure the only way you could possibly not believe smoking kills is if you live in a hole like the one you just buried your cigarette in.” Kenna smiled. “You know, the one Sarah knew you were smoking.”

The other girl snickered.

“Whatever,” said the smoker brilliantly.

“Nice comeback,” Kenna said.

“Are you saying I’m dumb?”

Kenna lifted a shoulder. “Did you hear the word dumb come out of my mouth?”

“She only smokes to impress Ricky,” the other girl said, rolling her eyes when the smoker chick sent her a bad look. “It’s not like a habit or anything. She’s been walking around with that pack for three months hoping he’ll catch her with it.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, Lyssa.”

“Ricky sounds like the dumb one,” Kenna said.

“And anyway, who’d want to impress a guy who smokes?”

“Well, he’s cute,” Lyssa said slowly.

“Have you ever kissed a smoker?” Kenna shuddered. “Serious bad breath.”

Sarah opened the front door. “Kenna!” As if they were old friends, she came down the walk smiling, arms held out.

“I’m not out of gas,” Kenna said into Sarah’s hair as she found herself wrapped in a bear hug. “I have no idea why I’m here. I was just out driving and-”

“And you found yourself here, talking to two of my favorite trouble-makers, Lyssa and Debbie.” She smiled at the teen girls, both of whom gave their version of a smile, meaning they bared their teeth.

“Kenna told us smokers kiss gross,” Debbie said.

“I said they taste gross,” Kenna corrected, embarrassed to have been caught discussing anything remotely sexual with teenagers. Sarah would probably be annoyed, as Kenna hadn’t any right, but Sarah just nodded very seriously.

“Not only do they taste bad to others,” she said. “Eventually you lose your own sense of taste entirely.”

Lyssa looked horrified. “Really?”

“Really. I just put some snacks out in the kitchen.

Help yourself girls, while you can still taste.”

“Ricky is so out of luck,” Lyssa whispered to Debbie on their way inside.

Sarah laughed and hugged Kenna again. “I’ve been trying to get her to stop carrying those things around for months. You just might have accomplished it in one day. Come on in.”

“I can’t.” It was time to put on a pair of stockings and make nice for her father.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I just came by to…” She lifted a shoulder and laughed at herself. “Say hi.”

“Well, hi. Come back when you can stay longer. I have a bunch of other kids you can fix for me.”

“I told you, I’m no role model.”

“And I told you, you’re wrong. Anyone can help, if they care enough. I’m pretty sure you care enough, Kenna.”

“Sarah-”

“Just answer me this. Why did you come today?”

“To remember how stupid teenagers are?”

Sarah laughed. “They’re wonderful, aren’t they?”

Yeah. They were roughed up, screwed up and angry as hell, but they were wonderful.

And passionate.

Or maybe that’s how she felt, passionate, in their presence, in a way she hadn’t felt since she’d come to San Diego and Mallory Enterprises.

God, she hated it when Ray was right.

KENNA HUSTLED into the huge ballroom, cringing a little because she was late. Late, late, late for an important date.

Dinner had already begun.

As if God had a sense of irony, the only seat left was right next to Serena, and directly across from the man who’d headlined her chocolate-cake fantasies the night before, so much so that she’d vowed off chocolate before bedtime.

At the other end of the table, her father glanced at his watch when she sat down.

Her mother looked slightly annoyed.

Serena tsked.

Wes just looked at her, with who knew what going through his head.

And Kenna fought the urge to keep running.

But she was a Mallory. Running wasn’t an option. Screaming maybe, later, but for right now she smiled and sat.

“Well, doesn’t someone think they’re special,” Serena muttered out of the side of her mouth.

Kenna ignored her and reached for her wineglass. She was going to need it.

“You did get the memo that said formal, right?” Serena eyed Kenna’s dress. Short, shimmering and gold, it could have worked on a beach or a cafe or anywhere in her old life, but to a charity event…apparently not.

“Never mind.” Serena shrugged. “It leaves more attention for me. You’re going to lose, you know that, right?”

“Lose what?”

“What. The man across from you, that’s what.”

Kenna looked at Wes, who looked incredible in his tux. “This isn’t a competition.”