Drawing Hearts Page 3

  The journey from computer genius to casino owner amazed him. What was his next step going to be? He didn’t know. His whole train of thought disappeared when Kenzie walked into the bar. His breath caught in his throat. She looked stunning in dark maroon tailored pants and an ivory silk blouse. A gold chain looped around her neck and bounced against her throat as she walked. She’d swept her short hair back from her face. Her very presence lit up the whole bar. He found himself smiling and couldn’t seem to stop.

  He stood as she slid into the booth. “Good evening.”

  She smiled at him. “Hi, and good evening to you.” She paused as the waitress rushed to the table to take Kenzie’s order. She chose a key lime martini, which surprised him. He didn’t think she was a martini type of person. “You look like you have good news.”

  Her statement dimmed his smile. “Not really.”

  “What do you mean, not really?” She gave a little pout. “That doesn’t sound good.”

  The way she looked at him made him want to slay dragons for her. “Where did you get this software?”

  “I hired a company in Canada that came highly recommended.” The waitress brought her martini and she took an experimental sip, then nodded at the waitress, who smiled back.

  “Well, fixing your program is going to mean pulling it apart down to the core and rebuilding it, module by module.”

  “That’s not good news.”

  He scrambled in his head trying to make the better news. “The good news is, it’s fixable. But it’s going to take time.”

  She frowned at him. “How much time?”

  An ache started in his chest. He wanted to be her hero and fix it yesterday. “A few weeks maybe. I won’t really know until I get started. I don’t know what I’ll be able to keep or what will need to be tossed.”

  “We’ll work this out.” She took a sip of her martini. “My grandmother can’t say enough good things about you.”

  “She’s made me feel like a part of your family.”

  “Miss E. is good like that. Once you get the Miss E. Seal of Approval, you’re in for life with no escape.” She chuckled.

  He laughed, pretty sure Miss E. wasn’t about to let him get away. “I don’t want to escape.”

  “Why did you stake my grandmother for the poker game that resulted in all this?” She held up her hand in a sweeping gesture.

  “Because I knew she’d win and...well...” He looked around. “Owning a casino is cooler than owning a yacht or an island. And the only thing cooler than a casino would be owning a hockey team.”

  “I’m a football fan myself. Owning a casino is way cooler than anything.”

  He nodded. “It’s so hedonistic. It’s about potential and luck and energy.” He leaned forward, looking her straight in the eye. “This may sound corny, but I like seeing people having fun.”

  “You sound like you haven’t had much fun in your life.”

  He’d been busy making money. “I’m working on that.” He was betting she could help him in that department.

  She cupped her chin in her hand. “Having fun shouldn’t be work.”

  He didn’t quite know how to respond. “When I started my first company, I had fun. I loved working with computers, I loved creating new software and seeing it fly out into the marketplace. The bigger my company grew, the less fun it became.”

  She nodded. “So then what did you do?”

  “I got out.” He’d sold his company for mucho millions and decided now was the time to have fun, only to have his father face cancer. “I devoted a lot of my life to my company and I needed to start devoting my life to me. What about you? Your grandmother is really proud of you and your brothers.”

  “She’s thrilled we’re all back in the fold. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she’s been planning this for years.”

  A shadow fell across them and Reed glanced up to Hendrix Beausolie with a plate in her hand. “Here.” She put the plate down midway between Reed and Kenzie and placed a smaller plate in front of Kenzie and another in front of Reed. “Try this.”

  Hendrix had recently made headlines with her innovative approach to baking pastries. A glowing article in Reno Today magazine had brought her a new fan base. People flocked to the restaurant and diner just to have her brownies. Her recent engagement to Kenzie’s brother Donovan had made her a minor celebrity in the family.

  “Why are you here so late at night?” Kenzie asked.

  “The swing dance contest Donovan and I were going to was canceled, and I’ve been mulling this dessert over in my mind for days so I thought I’d try it while he’s working on his food orders for the week.” She shoved into the booth next to Kenzie. “Blueberry white chocolate cheesecake. Try some.” She slid a slice onto a small plate and pushed it at Kenzie. She filled a second for Reed and a third slice for herself.

  Reed forked a bite into his mouth and let the dessert sit on his tongue for a moment. Hendrix was an amazing pastry chef. The subtle tastes of vanilla, white chocolate and blueberry were heavenly. He devoured the slice in less than a minute.

  “Wow,” Kenzie said, admiration in her tone. “This is to die for.” She forked another bite into her mouth and chewed, a dazed look filling her eyes.

  “Yeah.” Hendrix grinned. “Scott and Nina decided they didn’t want champagne cake for their wedding. So I decided to try this. What do you think?”

  “I can’t give you an honest opinion until I eat another slice.” Kenzie grinned at Hendrix.

  Hendrix laughed. “I figured you would.” She slid another slice onto Kenzie’s plate.

  Reed tried to eat healthy, but was willing to overlook his health for the decadence of Hendrix’s dessert. He finished the second slice. “I approve.”

  “You only approve,” Hendrix said.

  “Right now, I really want to marry you.”

  She held up her left hand and flashed a brilliant yellow diamond ring. “Taken.”

  He laughed. “Multimillionaire.”

  Hendrix tilted her head. “Money means nothing to me.”

  “That’s why I’d marry a woman like you.”

  “You get me in the next life.” She stood up and slid out of the booth.

  “Fair enough.” He was so comfortable with this family. As an only child, he’d missed having siblings.

  Hendrix waved as she headed back toward the kitchen.

  “Are you okay?” Kenzie said quietly.

  “I’m an only child and I always wanted to have brothers and sisters,” he said, a wistful tone in his voice.

  “Until one of them decapitates your dolls.”

  Reed stared at her, shocked. “Your brothers decapitated your dolls?”

  “Scott always wanted to play soldier with his G.I. Joes and I wanted to play fashion Barbie. He found a bunch of old G.I. Joes somewhere and exchanged their heads for the Barbie heads and wouldn’t tell me where he hid them. He came close to losing his life over that.” She burst out laughing. “Though now I do think it was pretty funny. I can’t imagine being an only child,” Kenzie said.

  “I always felt like I was on the outside looking in,” Reed confessed. “I wonder how my life would have been different if I’d had siblings.”

  “You’d probably have Barbie heads on all your G.I. Joes. Having siblings means you never got the last biscuit because one brother would lick it to keep it for himself and no one would eat it after that.”

  “I like your brothers. I don’t want to know which one did it.”

  “All of them,” she said with a smile. Her face had gone dreamy with her memories. “Learning to share wasn’t a bad skill, but sometimes I wish I could have had just a little bit more time with Miss E. before someone came in with a scraped knee. Though I’ll admit, having siblings taught me that life wasn’t a
lways about me.”

  Whatever her memories were, they were happy memories because she kept right on grinning.

  “Having your parents’ undivided attention has its drawbacks. Someone was always watching. I couldn’t get away with anything.”

  “Your parents kept you honest.”

  He narrowed his eyes and she squirmed. “What did you do?”

  She shrugged. “Nothing big. I stole a pack of gum when I was seven or eight. And I was so consumed with guilt I put it back. I’ve never told anyone what I did.”

  A woman with a bit of larceny in her soul—she was damn near perfect. “No one?”

  “No one.” She pointed her fork at him. “And you’re going to keep it that way.”

  He held up his hand in surrender, but he wondered what he could get to keep her secret. “I promise to keep your secret.”

  She burst out laughing. “And you?”

  Should he tell her? They were sharing. “Once upon a time, I thought I wanted to be an activist. I broke into the school computer when I was at MIT. For a student there, this was a rite of passage. I didn’t want to do any real damage, but I did change one grade where I was only getting a B+ and I know I deserved an A. So I gave myself an A.”

  “That’s your worst!”

  What he was going to talk about today. “I know it’s not as serious as bubblegum.”

  “Touché.” She sipped her wine for a moment. “You sound like you’ve had a too-serious life. What do you do for fun?”

  He didn’t answer right away. Should he tell her? Most people thought his hobby way too frivolous and he seldom shared it with anyone but his trusted friends. Finally, he decided to take the plunge. He wanted this woman to like him and if she accepted his hobby without judging, then he would like her even more. “I collect comic books and graphic novels.” He waited, trying not to flinch.

  She looked interested and not a bit scornful. “Really? Who’s your favorite? I always wanted to be Storm, from the X-Men.”

  He narrowed his eyes, picturing her as Storm with white hair and eyes. “I’ve always to be the Flash.”

  “I can see that. He’s a bit of a nerd. Although I tend to respect the born heroes rather than the made ones.”

  “You’re not laughing at me.” He was astonished. Every other woman he’d told about his hobby had put it down. Comic books were for kids, not grown men. He’d finally learned to keep his hobby hidden. “That’s cool.”

  “I’m cool. I like to hike.”

  “Is hiking your hobby?” He’d give nature a go if he could spend more time with her.

  “I just like to be outside. My real hobby is creating and sewing fashion wardrobes for dolls. Did you know the earliest fashion doll was created in the 1300s for an English Queen who wanted French fashions for her court? She sent a note to Paris asking for fashion dolls to be sent to her so she could choose a new wardrobe.”

  For a second, Reed was amazed. His only acquaintance with dolls were the ones found in every retail store. “It must have been great to be the queen.”

  “That story got me started collecting fashion dolls from eighteenth and nineteenth century France.”

  “Do you play with your dolls?”

  She shook her head. “These are antique dolls. Usually, I display them, but they are still packed away because I haven’t time to unpack them. Right now, I’m sewing a whole wardrobe for Maya’s Barbie doll as a Christmas present. She wants a bridal gown with bridesmaids’ dresses.”

  “You design clothes, too?”

  “I originally planned to go into design, but ended up in the business end. I can make pretty things, but nothing innovative.”

  He doubted that. “I think you’re selling yourself short.”

  She sat back studying him. “I’ve spent a lot of time around designers, established ones and new ones. I’ve spent a lot of time around clothes and what American women want to wear. I know my limitations. What I am good at is picking out the hot new trends.”

  He didn’t believe her. She’d already shown her imagination to be boundless. That was incredibly sexy. “I admire that in you.”

  “Fashion is very personal. Women tend to be judged by what they wear. Women who walk into Walmart in stained, dirty clothes are treated a lot differently than women who walk into Walmart looking like a million bucks. Image is everything.”

  Her talent was just as important as anyone else’s. He understood about image. Steve Jobs wore the same thing every day. Bill Gates still looked like a geek but more fashionable. And for himself...

  “What are you thinking so intensely?” Kenzie asked.

  “I’m thinking about image. Women aren’t the only ones who consider how they look. Albert Einstein had a wardrobe that consisted of two weeks of the same style pants, shirt and sweater because he didn’t want to think about clothes. Stephen Hawking dresses in Armani. Angelina Jolie wears a lot of black because she doesn’t want to have to think about matching clothes. Even I had to think about my image. I tended to stay out of the public eye, but once my company reached the Fortune 500 list, I was scrutinized for everything. I couldn’t go to work anymore with holes in my jeans. I didn’t understand for a long time that image was just as important as my product.”

  “For you, your image is about power,” Kenzie replied. “And success and control. If you looked like a slob, analysts would see your company as ill-run and sloppy, that you didn’t care about profit and the bottom line. Steve Jobs may have worn the same thing every day, but it was neat, clean and looked like he meant business.”

  His father had been a naval officer; he cared about projecting power and confidence. Which he did with his pristine uniforms and commanding presence. He always felt he should have been accepted for what he accomplished, not for how he looked.

  “You’re thinking hard again.” She shook her head.

  “How do you know?”

  She rubbed the space between her perfectly plucked eyebrows. “You get this little crinkly line between your eyes.”

  Reed shook his head. “When I asked to talk to you about your software program and the problems, I never expected our conversation to veer into such personal territory.”

  Kenzie reached across the table to take his hand and patted it. “How well do you know Miss E.? Because she would have had all this information about you thirty seconds after she met you. She could get information from a stone.”

  “No kidding. After five minutes I was ready to show her my report card from first grade.” He remembered feeling as if he was under a microscope with the older woman and it made him uncomfortable, but with Kenzie he wanted to tell her things about himself. This was getting stranger by the second. “You are good.”

  Kenzie grinned. “I learned at the feet of the master.”

  “Is every conversation with you going to end up being so personal?”

  She gave him a sly smile. “If we’re going to talk about the weather, we don’t need to personalize it. But we weren’t talking about the weather.”

  He felt his blood race through his body. She was sexy and scary. Revealing so much about himself so easily wasn’t in his nature. He’d always been a little reserved. Once he became wealthy people were always at him. They wanted money. They wanted advice, endorsements or to be seen with him. And he just wanted to be normal. He didn’t own any real estate except for a small condo in Seattle and his father’s home in San Diego. He drove a Lexus, his only vanity, because he liked nice cars. He gave 20 percent of his yearly income to charity. He voted in every election, but stayed away from politics. He didn’t want to be a mover or shaker in the world; he simply wanted to be left alone to pursue his own interests.

  Kenzie patted his hand. “Stop thinking. What happens happens in its own time. Just stay in the moment. I had a friend who used to say life is what
it is, stop tormenting yourself about what life isn’t.”

  Her skin was soft on his and he stopped himself from groaning as his pulse sped up and he suddenly wanted more than just a touch from her. “Easy to say, but not so easy to do,” he admitted. “So teach me how to stay in the moment.”

  “Stop thinking about the past. Stop thinking about every little thing as it happens. Every day is a do-over. Make it count. Do something unexpected.”

  Do something unexpected. For the first time in his life he gave in to an impulse. He half stood, leaned over the table and kissed her on the mouth. Her lips were soft and silky and her breath tasted of the martini she’d drunk. For a moment, her lips opened under his and then she suddenly drew back and pushed him away, her eyes wide in surprise. As he sat down again, she pressed her fingers to her mouth.

  “Is that unexpected enough?”

  She slid out of the booth. “I have to go.” She turned and half ran out of the bar.

  Reed was stunned at his boldness and even more surprised at her response. Was she rejecting him? Of course she was. But there was something about that kiss that stayed with him.

  Chapter 3

  “And he kissed me,” Kenzie said as she bent over the dining table, scissors in hand, cutting out the last piece of the bridal gown she’d designed for Maya’s present. The other pieces were stacked in a pile near her elbow. Scattered scraps of lace dotted the table along with satin ribbon, spools of white thread and what she called her super-duper, extra-magical sewing machine.

  “You did tell him to do something unexpected.” Nina had to be the reasonable one. Her knitting needles clicked. A pair of booties in a silvery white took shape beneath her fingers. Knitting had always been Nina’s hobby and she was having a field day knitting for Lydia. She’d already knitted a sweater and hat for baby Russell and had a blanket next on her list.