I let my head fall. “Fine. Let it go.”
I shoved back from the table and strolled out of the room. I left Paul to clean up the mess.
I waited outside the bank. I reached in my pocket for a cigarette. The smoke swirled into the air. I resisted the urge to punch the marble pillars marking the entrance. I didn’t know if I waited too long on purpose or if I lost track of time. The doors opened and Kennedy descended the steps.
“What did you do?” I confronted her.
I couldn’t read her emotions with the sunglasses pulled over her eyes. Kimble flanked her side.
“I just bought a hotel.” But I didn’t see a smile or any sign of pleasure from her when she spoke the words.
“We should talk about this.”
She turned away from me. “It’s done. There’s nothing to talk about. You made it clear the last time I saw you.”
“Kennedy, no.”
Kimble stepped in between us. His hulking frame was a pain in the ass. It was pointless to shove him out of the way.
“Drinks?” I asked. “Let’s go talk. Alone,” I urged. I threw the cigarette on the concrete step and extinguished it with my shoe.
“My father is expecting me.”
“Let me at least apologize.”
“For?” She brought the shades to the end of her nose. She motioned to Kimble to give us some space.
“You know what.”
She shrugged. “I’m not going to do the work for you. If that’s all you have to say…” She took another step toward the black SUV parked in front of the bank.
“No.” My hand landed on her shoulder. “Forget the hotel. Just talk to me. Give me a chance to apologize for the last time I saw you. What I said. What I did. I owe you an apology.” The guilt had chipped at my soul.
I thought I had her. I thought she’d listen. I thought the connection between us was strong enough to undo the fucking stupid mistake I had made. I was wrong.
Kennedy climbed into the back of the SUV. Kimble slid behind the wheel. The doors were locked, and she drove away without saying anything else. When I turned around Paul was waiting at the curb.
“Ready, sir? We have to tell your father what just happened.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets and followed the attorney to our car a few yards away.
“I’ll break the news to him,” I offered.
“I get paid to do this kind of thing. I’ll do it.”
I buckled my seatbelt. “But you aren’t the reason we lost the hotel.”
“I don’t know that Mr. Corban will see it that way. How can you be sure?”
“Trust me. I’m the reason.”
I wasn’t afraid of my father. I’d seen how he wielded power my entire life. He taught me those skills. Trained me to take over the business. I couldn’t fear what I know so intricately.
I’d seen him cut men to their knees with quiet words. I’d seen terror cover their faces when they realized Raphael Corban had them by the balls. He couldn’t make me cower. I only hoped Paul could hold his own because he was going to need all the backbone and spine he could muster to tell my father we lost the Vieux Carre.
13
Kennedy
I flopped on my bed, kicking the high heels that matched my dress to the floor. I was supposed to feel triumphant. We had won. But all I felt was shaky and uncertain. That look on Knight’s face on the steps outside the bank. It almost made me crumble. Almost.
There was something in the way he looked at me that had nothing to do with business, and everything to do with regret. I could see it. The darkness. The endless spiral of guilt. The plea to make it right. I pulled a pillow under my face to block out the thoughts clouding my judgement.
He had gotten under my skin. He was in my head. I thought about his lips and his fingertips. I didn’t forget the hurt. The humiliation. I hadn’t forgotten how he cast me out of his apartment like a whore. I’d never forget that moment. Only, I couldn’t figure out which draw was stronger—the need to feel his breath. To look in his eyes again. Or the feeling that I was nothing but useless baggage, weighing him down. An obstacle to kick out of the way. I struggled to weigh the emotions. I was drowning in them. Tumbling through the darkness Knight had laid at my feet.
I lifted my head when I heard the knock on my door. “Miss Martin?”
“Yes,” I squeaked.
“Your father says dinner is at six.”
“Okay.” I couldn’t stop the hard lump in the back of my throat from forming.
“He wants you to dress up. He’s taking you out,” Tammy reported.
My ears perked and the pit in my stomach finally bottomed out. “What?”
“Dinner at six. In the city.”
“Thank you,” I called through the closed door.
I couldn’t remember the last time my father and I had gone anywhere together in public. I knew he was pleased with the auction result. But this? It was a display of family pride I didn’t expect. I scrambled off the bed and walked straight to my closet to pick out a dress. I had to put Knight Corban behind me. The Martins had made their mark on the city. It wasn’t a day that would be forgotten anytime soon. By anyone.
“Dad, how did you find this place?” I asked over my menu.
He smiled. He rarely looked happy. “Did you think your father didn’t know the good place in New Orleans?”
“Of course not.” I grinned, but it faded when a tray of oysters was presented.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. No. I like them. I just…” I didn’t want to admit that I’d had oysters once and it was a memorable night with Knight.
“Supposed to be the best in the city.” He was delighted with himself. I didn’t correct him. I knew where the best oysters were.
