Seduced by the Heir(20)

Yeah, one bad experience that almost killed me.

"After Mom passed, I lost my reason for living, but then I met Anthony  and fell head over heels in love." Kennedy's eyes twinkled and a dreamy  expression came over her face. "And once I became a mother I realized  there was no greater joy than having a child."

"Then why aren't you at home with your kids now?" Paris said with a laugh.

Her smile vanished. "I had to get out of there. Anthony's driving me crazy."

"Is everything okay?"

Kennedy sat down at the kitchen table and dropped her face in her hands.  Seconds passed before she spoke, and when she did her voice was grave.  "Anthony lost his job."                       
       
           



       

"Oh, no, that's terrible. How's he holding up?"

"Not good. He's applied to tons of other computer software firms, but hasn't heard anything yet."

Paris rubbed her sister's back and told her not to worry. Listening to  her talk about the strain in her marriage and the stress she was under  at her public relations job, broke her heart. Paris wanted to do  something to help, but what? The answer came to her in a flash. "Call  Dad," she said. "He'll know what to do. He always does."

Kennedy shook her head so hard her honey-blond curls tumbled around her  face. "No way. I talk to that man once every year during the holidays,  and that's more than enough."

"Talk to him," Paris repeated. "He can give Anthony a job."

"No, thanks."

"Kennedy, you're being unreasonable. Think about your family, the kids-"

Her eyes narrowed and the corners of her mouth twitched. "I don't expect  you to understand. You're the golden child. You have no idea how mean  and insensitive Dad can be."

Paris dropped her hands to her sides. Her sister's icy tone put her on  edge. Paris told herself to stay calm, but it was a struggle to keep her  temper in check when all she wanted to do was scream. "The golden  child? What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're his favorite. Always have been, always will be."

"No, I'm not. Dad loves us all the same."

"As if!" Kennedy gave a bitter laugh. "In Dad's eyes Oliver and I are  screwups. You went to college, graduated with honors and became his  right-hand man. Thanks to you, Excel Construction has grown by leaps and  bounds the past ten years."

What the hell? How did our lighthearted conversation about love and  relationships turn so ugly, so quick? Insulted, and confused by her  sister's rant, Paris lashed back in self-defense. "Don't blame me for  the mistakes you've made," she retorted. The anger in her voice  ricocheted around the kitchen walls. "No one told you to get pregnant  and drop out of college your sophomore year. That was your choice."

"At least I have a backbone and can think for myself."

Shocked by the verbal slap, Paris hitched a hand to her hip and glared at her sister.

"Unlike me," she continued, her voice filled with disgust, "you always  do exactly what Dad says, and he rewards you handsomely for your  obedience."

Paris wanted fight back, but shrugged off the criticism. "That's not true."

"Yes, it is. You quit cosmetology school because Dad said doing hair and  makeup was beneath you. You drive a Lexus because that's the only car  he likes, and when he tells you to jump you ask, 'How high?'"

"Mom's gone," Paris croaked, her throat suddenly dry and sore. "He's all we have left."

"No, he's all you have left. I have my husband and my children. I don't  need Dad." Grumbling under her breath, Kennedy unzipped her leather  handbag and took out a red heart-shaped envelope. "I didn't come over  here to argue with you about Dad. I came to give you this."

"What is it?" Paris asked, taking the envelope from her sister's outstretched hand.

"Anthony and I are throwing an intimate soiree for our family and  friends at The Hyatt to celebrate our anniversary." She beamed from ear  to ear. "A lot of people didn't think we'd last six months let alone a  strong sixteen years."

"Did you mail an invitation to Dad?"

"No, why would I? He's always been horrible to Anthony, and he shows  zero interest in our kids. He sends a check every year for their  birthdays, but it takes more than money and expensive gifts to be a good  grandfather."

"Kennedy, don't be so hard on him. He's trying-"

"Trying, my ass."

Sick of arguing, Paris shook her head and exhaled a deep breath.

"Invite Rafael to be your date for the party," Kennedy said, her tone much warmer than before. "I'd love to meet him."

"I bet you would. You always did have a thing for Italian guys!"  Laughing, Paris ripped open the envelope and read the invitation. Her  heart fell and her shoulders sagged.

"What's wrong?"

"Kennedy, I'm so sorry, but I won't be able to come. The Excel Construction charity gala is the same day."

Her eyebrows merged together. "So? Skip it."

"I can't do that. Dad would disown me!"

"I survived." Kennedy eyed her coldly. "I don't make as much money as  you do, and I'll probably never travel around the world or live in a  million-dollar neighborhood, but I love my life and I wouldn't trade it  for anything in the world. Can you say the same?"                       
       
           



       

An awkward silence fell between them.

Paris couldn't find her voice. Her sister's words replayed in her ears,  taunting her like an invisible bully. I love my life and I wouldn't  trade it for anything in the world. Can you say the same?

Sadness consumed her, causing memories of that tragic winter night to  surface. Paris pressed her eyes shut and deleted every thought of her ex  from her mind. She tried to think of something funny to say to lighten  the mood, but came up empty.

"I better go." Kennedy swung her purse over her shoulder. "It's getting  late, and Anthony and the kids are probably wondering where I am."

Paris snatched the cordless phone off the counter and gestured to the  take-out menus taped to the stainless-steel fridge. "Don't go. I was  just about to order in. We'll make mocktails, eat dinner and watch your  favorite reality TV shows!"

"No, thanks. I've already overstayed my welcome as it is...."

"Don't say things like that. I love having you here. That's why I gave you a key."

"I'll give you a call later in the week."

Paris reached into her pocket, took out some folded bills and handed  them to her sister. "Buy the kids pizza tonight, and take them shopping  tomorrow."

"Keep it. Money's tight, but I'm not a pauper."

"I know. I just like spoiling the kids. That's what aunties do!" Paris  hugged her sister and dropped the money inside her purse. "Are we okay? I  hate when you're mad at me, and I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not mad, just disappointed, that's all."

"I'm happy for you and Anthony, and I wish I could come to your party.  But I can't be in Atlanta and Washington at the same time."

Dropping her gaze to the floor, Kennedy twisted her gold wedding band  around her finger. Her eyes were sad and her lips were trembling, but  she spoke in a clear voice. "You just wait and see. Our anniversary bash  is going to be the talk of the town! Everyone who loves and supports us  will be there, and that's all that matters to me."

Wincing, Paris tried not to let her sadness show. Feeling guilty for the  things she'd said earlier to Kennedy, she watched helplessly as her  sister yanked open the front door and marched down the walkway.

Paris blinked back tears. She felt unhappier than she'd ever been and  wished there was someone she could talk to. Thoughts of Rafael  overwhelmed her mind, but she pushed them aside. She had no right to  call him, not after the way she'd treated him in Venice.

Standing on the welcome mat, watching Kennedy drive away, Paris was hit  with a startling truth: in less than twenty-four hours she'd screwed  things up with her sister and the only man she'd ever truly loved.





Chapter 11

The moment the Boeing 747 landed at Dulles International Airport on  Friday morning, Paris was off and running. She touched base with her  assistant back in Atlanta, answered her emails and sent Kennedy a funny  text message to lighten the mood between them.

By the time Paris reached the baggage claim area she'd checked off everything on her to-do list and revised her weekly schedule.

Tired and hungry, Paris stood in front of the carousel taping her foot  impatiently on the floor. She'd been up since 5:00 a.m., and after  weathering treacherous road conditions in Atlanta, had boarded an  airplane filled with crabby travelers, wailing babies and bitchy flight  attendants. Her stomach grumbled and groaned, but she ignored it. She'd  eat when she reached the W Hotel Washington and not a moment sooner.