The Better Man (Chicago Sisters) (6 page)

“K, you all right?” Since Kendall was the only woman in the restaurant while it was under construction, Owen had no qualms about walking right into the women’s restroom.

She wiped her cheeks and turned the lock. “I’m fine,” she lied, hoping Owen would at least pretend to believe her. She exited the stall and avoided eye contact until she could check her reflection in the mirror and be sure there was no sign of those tears.

“Why do you insist on getting here before me? Let me deal with Mr. I-Have-A-Million-Issues Jordan,” Owen said, holding out a paper towel for her while she washed her hands.

“My chairs are supposed to come in today and I wanted to see if they finished taping the new wall yesterday. I want to get started on the mural as soon as possible.”

Owen’s expression was full of nothing but concern. He was more than a business partner; he had been her friend since they met at the Art Institute. They were design soul mates, but their dreams of starting their own firm had been dashed when Kendall met Trevor one Christmas break.

Trevor had been a senior at the Naval Academy back then, and he’d swept her off her feet. When he asked her to move to Virginia after graduation to be close to him while he trained at Quantico, the decision had nearly torn her apart. Leaving her family and friends terrified her. In the end, she’d chosen Trevor. He had this way of making her question herself by being so sure they were meant to be together. His confidence had convinced her that the right thing to do was walk away from one dream and toward another.

Owen considered going with her, but it wasn’t meant to be. He never lost touch, though. He knew the day would come when they would make KO Designs a reality. While she’d been off getting married and starting a family, Owen had spent the past eight years working hard to make a name for himself in the Chicago design world. When Trevor died, Owen had given her the courage to get back into a career she’d set aside.

The only reason KO Designs had any clients when they first started a year ago was because of Owen. She owed him so much, and here she was thanking him by having a breakdown on the job.

“He’s getting to you.”

“It’s less about him and more about my issues with my husband.” Kendall checked herself in the mirror one more time. “Stop looking at his face,” she told her reflection, then turned to Owen. “Maybe if I stare at his shoes or the buttons on his fancy shirts when he makes ridiculous demands, I’ll get less rattled. Trevor never wore shoes like that.”

“He does have impeccable fashion sense, doesn’t he?” It was a trait for which Owen had great respect. “Let me handle him, okay? You take care of the other details.”

“Deal,” she said thankfully.

Unfortunately, even without Max’s interference, nothing went smoothly. The chairs were delivered, but instead of sending her forty chairs, the vendor sent her a
hundred
and forty chairs. The delivery guys kept unloading them even though she told them she hadn’t ordered that many. The customer service representative from the furniture company put her on hold for fifteen minutes, then told her someone would have to call her back. To top it off, in their attempt to fit a hundred and forty chairs in a restaurant that only needed forty, one of the stacks of chairs fell over and damaged a freshly painted wall.

All the while, Max felt the need to remind Kendall over and over that Mr. Sato would not be covering the cost of her mistake. “If this sets the project back—”

“You need to stop talking,” she snapped, finally pushed to her limit. His resemblance to Trevor actually made it easier to argue with him. “This is not going to set the project back. This is the vendor’s error. They’ll fix it as soon as someone gets back to me and we’ll move forward.”

“I’m just saying this is not an expense the restaurant should have to incur.”

“No one said the restaurant would incur any extra expense.”

He moved closer and Kendall became all too aware of the differences between Max and Trevor. He was a bit taller than Trevor, who stood a solid six feet tall, and leaner. Trevor had always smelled like soap, while Max’s cologne had a peppery spice and citrus scent. It was a pleasant difference, like his eyes, and it made Kendall feel slightly off balance.

“I just want to be sure,” he said as her phone rang.

She gathered her wits about her. “This is probably them right now.” She answered without looking at the number. “Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Montgomery. This is Lisa Warner, from school.” The apology was in her tone.

Kendall felt her heart sink.
Not now.
She turned away from Max and made her way to the restaurant entrance. She needed to find Owen. “What happened?” she asked Lisa.

“We’re going to need you to come in. Simon locked himself inside the nurse’s bathroom.”

Kendall spotted Owen talking to the delivery man, who was trying to leave. The sooner she went to deal with Simon, the sooner she could get back to handle this fiasco. “I’m on my way.”

* * *

S
IMON
OPENED
THE
door for his mom but wouldn’t tell her what the problem was while they were at school. Lisa let them use her office, but all Simon would say was his stomach hurt.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me why the yucks are so bad.”

“I need to go home.”

“We can’t go home, Simon. We both have jobs to do. Your job is school and Mom’s job is at the restaurant.”

“My tummy hurts too bad.”

“Baby, Mommy has a big problem at work. I need you to tell the yucks to go away. You can do it.”

That was when the tantrum started. Kendall didn’t have time to deal with this today, and as much as she hated to give in, she was left with no choice. She got up and opened the door. “Let’s go.”

Lisa and the principal, Mrs. Nigel, were waiting for the two of them in the main office. They were talking but stopped as soon as they saw Kendall.

“Can I go down with him to get his backpack? I’m going to have to take him with me.”

Lisa and Mrs. Nigel exchanged a look. Kendall knew they were unhappy with her weakness. She’d already received a letter from the school regarding Simon’s attendance record. Lisa smiled at Simon. “How about I take you to get your backpack so your mom can talk to Mrs. Nigel for a minute?”

The suggestion gave Kendall the yucks. Mrs. Nigel had always been supportive, but that understanding might have an expiration date.

Simon held tighter to her hand, and truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to stick together. Regardless, she encouraged him to go with Mrs. Warner.

His reluctance was clear in his eyes and the dragging of his feet. He left with the social worker, repeatedly glancing over his shoulder to make sure his mother didn’t bolt out the doors.

Mrs. Nigel motioned for Kendall to follow her into her office. Kendall suddenly knew exactly how Simon felt—her own feet were cemented to the floor.

The principal’s office was a decent size, with two large windows on the long wall opposite the door. Inspirational posters with quotes about success and believing in yourself hung on the walls. They were similar to the ones in the social work office, which suggested never giving up and declared the space a no-bullying zone.

“Mrs. Montgomery,” Mrs. Nigel began.

“Please, call me Kendall.”

First came the pity smile. “Kendall, I know the anniversary of...” She averted her eyes. “Of Simon’s father’s passing was difficult. Simon has had a hard time rebounding.”

Mrs. Nigel had no idea. “If this was any other day, I would make him stick it out. But I’m in the middle of a crisis at work and—”

“Please, I understand. You’re overwhelmed. I just want you to know that we’ve been discussing as a team how to best help Simon, and we’ve come to the conclusion that his needs may need to be supported differently.”

Before Kendall could ask what that meant, her phone rang. The number was unfamiliar and likely the vendor who mixed up the chair order. She declined the call. “Differently how?”

“Well, we’d like to meet and discuss Simon’s placement and services.”

“He already sees Lisa and the speech pathologist. Mrs. Taylor has been following the suggestions the psychologist gave me. What other services does he need?”

The pity smile was back. Kendall hated the pity smile. “Well,” Mrs. Nigel began.

Kendall’s phone rang again. It was the same number as before. “I’m sorry, I need to take this.” Kendall answered the call and quickly gave the perturbed man on the other end of the line Owen’s number. She apologized to Mrs. Nigel again and asked her to continue.

“I guess what we’re thinking is we’re not sure Wilder is the best place for a boy like Simon. We think his needs might be better met in a more...therapeutic setting.”

“You want to kick him out of school?” Kendall could feel the protective mama bear inside her rear up. There was no way she would let them kick her son out of school.

“No, Mrs. Montgomery. It wouldn’t be like that at all. We simply aren’t equipped to handle a student who doesn’t talk. His avoidance of school is proof of that. Of course, meeting as a team to discuss his progress will give us a clearer picture and help us determine what’s best.”

“And you think it’s best that he be put in some special school?”

“I think Simon needs help. I think
you
need help.”

Kendall couldn’t hear that right now. “He needs some time. That’s all he needs. A little more time to feel comfortable here.”

“We have a meeting scheduled in two weeks. That’s when we’re going to take a closer look at the progress he’s been making. I think you need to understand that if his attendance doesn’t improve and his behaviors continue to escalate here at Wilder, we’ll have no choice but to take a more disciplinarian approach.”

Kendall’s face was so hot, she imagined smoke coming out of her ears. “So, if I don’t let you send him to a special school, you’ll punish him for not adjusting well to his father’s death? Is that what you’re telling me?”

“If that’s the way you see it, that’s the way you see it. We all have Simon’s best interest at heart here. I hope you see that as well.”

“
I
have Simon’s best interest at heart.” Kendall stood and made her way to the door. “And I guess I have two weeks to prove to you he doesn’t need to be kicked out or punished.”

Simon was anxiously waiting for her on the other side of the door. She grabbed his hand and led him out. She tried to give him a reassuring smile and probably failed at that, too. As they got into the cab she had paid to wait, she wondered what Simon did need, because she, like the school, had no clue.

CHAPTER SIX

M
AX
WAS
LOSING
PATIENCE
. The designers never listened to him. Not to mention everything took longer than they said it would. And now, in the midst of a delivery nightmare, Kendall had gone MIA. The hundred and forty chairs were stacked all over the restaurant, making it impossible for anyone to do their job. The painters couldn’t finish painting. The electrical guys couldn’t finish wiring the ceiling lights. Most important, Max had ten potential employees coming in today for interviews, and Jin was threatening to show up for a visit.

Max’s frustration made him unreasonable, and that led to more communication breakdowns. He was sorry for being such a pain, but running a restaurant was the one thing Max knew he could do well if he was given the opportunity to do so. This should be the one place his confidence soared. Given his current situation with Katie and Aidan, he needed at least one thing to feel good about.

“Did you tell him about you-know-who?” Owen asked someone on the phone. He’d been on that thing almost constantly for the last half hour. “Can you drop him off at your mom’s?”

He was obviously done speaking to the furniture vendor and had moved on to personal business. Did he not understand what a disaster this day had become?

“What about Lucy?”

Who the heck is Lucy?
Owen made eye contact as if he’d heard Max’s thoughts. He smiled nervously, then disappeared among the stacks of chairs.

“Don’t worry about it,” Max overheard him say as he followed Owen into the maze. “Do what you have to do and I’ll take care of things over here.”

“Is that Kendall? Is she coming back sometime today?”

Owen stopped and spun around. He ended his call and slid his phone into his pocket. “You know what you and I should do?”

Max shook his head, prepared to reject whatever he suggested.

“We should head over to this art gallery on Michigan Avenue and look at these paintings Kendall’s had her eye on for this place.” Owen pushed Max towards the exit.

“Is that where Kendall is? An art gallery? Because she should be here, dealing with these chairs,” Max said, holding his ground and feeling more frustrated by the minute. “I have people coming to be interviewed. My office is unusable and there’s nowhere to sit out here because there are too many things to sit on!”

“The irony is sort of hilarious, no?” Owen’s wide smile shrunk when he noticed Max’s scowl remained. “I get it. This is not ideal. The vendor assures me they’ll send someone to pick these back up...eventually.”

“Eventually? What does that mean?”

Owen sighed and resumed his efforts to get Max out of the building, this time pulling instead of pushing. “It means we should get out of here. The gallery isn’t too far. We could even walk there.”

“I’m not leaving,” Max asserted. “You and Kendall need to find a way to get rid of these chairs
today
.” Yanking free from Owen’s grasp, he headed for the kitchen. It was the only area undisturbed by the chaos today. He could conduct his interviews back here if he had to, he supposed. It was quieter and offered some privacy. Now, if only he could prevent Jin from showing up, he’d be a little bit ahead of the game.

Patting his pockets in search of the cigarettes that still weren’t there, he cursed himself for being so weak. He hadn’t bought any cigarettes but had been tempted more than once over the last few weeks. Things were not going as smoothly as he’d hoped. Remodeling was a bigger headache than he’d anticipated. Throw in his personal problems, and it was amazing he hadn’t jumped out of this third-story window yet.

Katie had agreed to arbitration, apparently with some coaxing from her husband. Max could resume his visits with his son, but the lack of prior contact was cause for concern. This meant he got
supervised
visitation until the next arbitration meeting. A court-appointed woman had the honor of watching Max fail miserably at connecting with a little boy who wanted nothing to do with him.

Sitting in a playroom with a counselor who had the best poker face known to man and a three-year-old who cried for the first half of every visit was beginning to traumatize Max. It had become more of a punishment than an opportunity to prove he deserved to be in his son’s life.

Max would be the first to admit he wasn’t very good with little kids. Growing up an only child may have had something to do with that. He’d spent most of his life around adults. His mom changed her friends every time she redesigned herself. It made him good at first impressions, but terrible at really getting to know someone. Even worse at letting people get to know him.

Taking care of himself and making sure adults had a good time when they came to one of his restaurants or clubs were Max’s strengths. Three-year-olds weren’t as easy to please as his patrons. Little ones didn’t care about getting a free drink from the bar or a half-priced appetizer special. Likewise, complimenting a toddler’s wardrobe choices got him nowhere near Aidan’s good graces.

Some days, it felt like a lost cause to fight to be Aidan’s daddy when Katie’s new husband had already taken his place. It made Max question what he was doing in this city. It was probably making him a bigger jerk at work than he really was. He saw the way Kendall searched for an escape every time he headed in her direction. He didn’t miss the looks she gave her business partner when they were discussing the things Max thought weren’t working or the sighs she let out when he finished asking a question.

He wasn’t trying to be a pain. He simply needed her to do everything in her power to make this restaurant look perfect. He’d handle the rest. He’d hire the best staff and make sure they had the best menu. He’d fill the tables. Maybe not all the chairs, but definitely the tables.

“Mr. Jordan?” Jin poked his head through the door and pushed it all the way open when he saw Max was there. “What in the world is going on out there? Why do we have so many chairs?”

“Delivery error,” Max answered. “They’re coming back for the extras as soon as possible.”

Jin had already stopped listening. His attention had shifted to the newly delivered and installed teppanyaki griddle. He turned knobs and ran his hand over the smooth griddle top. “What time do the staff interviews begin?” he asked, moving on to the box of soy sauce dishes.

“First one is scheduled in about a half hour.” Max prayed Jin wasn’t going to stay. The last thing he needed was for Jin to think he had input in Max’s hiring decisions. A manager needed to pick his own staff to ensure a well-run restaurant.

“I have a busy afternoon, so I want to see the applications before you interview.”

Max took that to mean he wasn’t hanging around long and breathed a sigh of relief. “I can do that.”

Jin inspected one of the soy sauce bowls. “I don’t like these,” he announced before setting it back in the box. “Come show me what your issue is with the new sushi bar.”

* * *

“M
R
. S
ATO
,” K
ENDALL
greeted Jin when they stepped into the main dining area. The missing designer had finally returned. In her high-heeled boots, she was a good inch taller than Jin, and, for some reason, that made Max smile. Kendall was also smiling, but it seemed a little forced. “We apologize for the mix-up with the seating. I promise there will not be this many chairs when you open.”

Jin’s icy demeanor completely melted away at the sight of her. The boss’s son had a crush. It was almost cute. “No problem, Kendall. I trust you to get it sorted out.”

It took all of Max’s self-restraint not to laugh. Kendall could mess up big, go missing for almost an hour, and Jin acted like it was nothing. Max, on the other hand, didn’t choose the right soy-sauce dishes and got a look that could kill. This kid had his priorities all out of whack.

Max hated having to kowtow to Sato’s son. Jin’s ego did little to make up for his inexperience. Max had to work twice as hard to make sure Jin’s callowness didn’t mess with the restaurant’s success. Sharing control was difficult when the person he was sharing it with wielded it without proper training. Jin had a lot to learn and it was unclear who was teaching him.

“Can we show you some of the updates?” Kendall offered, and Jin readily accepted. Her long hair was pinned up in front while the rest of it fell over her shoulders. It looked soft, like the rest of her. Max certainly couldn’t fault Jin for finding her attractive.

Suddenly, a movement under one of the stacks of chairs caught his attention. Max bent down and tilted his head to get a better look. Two eyes peered out at him, wide as saucers. Quicker than he appeared, the little boy retreated like a turtle in his shell.

No one else seemed to notice there was a child hiding in the restaurant. Hopefully he wasn’t delivered with the chairs. Max broke from the group to search for the young intruder. He didn’t find him hiding under the chairs. Instead, the boy sat in the back corner at a table covered in colored pencils and a large sketchbook.

“Hey there,” Max said with a wave. The kid was older than Aidan by a few years. Definitely old enough to be in school, but here instead of there. “What’s your name, buddy?”

The boy’s stare was discomforting. Frozen, with his mouth slightly agape, the little guy looked like he was face-to-face with his hero.

Max was no one’s hero.

“My name’s Max.” He pointed to himself. Maybe the boy didn’t speak English. Max pointed at him. “Whaaat’s yooooour naaaaame?” he asked, drawing out each word as if that would help him understand better.

The boy picked up a pencil and went back to his drawing. It wasn’t until he lifted up the paper that Max realized he had written his name. “Simon,” Max read. “Hi, Simon.”

Simon still gawked at him. “Hi,” he mouthed without any sound.

“Do you belong to someone here?” Max asked, cautiously moving closer. The last thing he wanted was for the kid to bolt, or worse, cry.

Simon nodded and flipped back to the first page in the book. He pointed to a drawing of a woman with warm brown eyes and long, dark hair. The kid was pretty talented for someone so young. “My mom.” His voice was barely a whisper.

Kendall.
Her disappearing act was no longer a mystery. Max took a better look at the boy. With the exception of his eyes, he was very much his mother’s son. Same round cheeks and little nose. His lips were full and pouty.

Picking up the sketchbook, Max admired the artwork. “That’s a good picture of her. You didn’t draw this, did you?” Simon nodded. “Are you sure?” The boy nodded again. “Wow,” Max said in genuine awe.

Simon’s smile revealed one missing tooth. He was cute and quiet, the perfect child. Max wondered what he was doing here instead of school. Not that it was any of his business. It must have been something important, though, if Kendall had to leave in the middle of the chair delivery from hell.

“No school today?”

Simon’s cheeks flushed red. “I got the yucks. Mom had to pick me up.”

The boy didn’t seem sick, but what did Max know? He wouldn’t know the first thing about how to tell if a kid was well enough to be in school or not. He had so much to learn about kids in order to be the best dad he could be for Aidan. In fact, thanks to Simon, he was going to buy a thermometer on his way home today.

“Did your mom tell you to sit back here and color?”

Simon nodded.

“Are you okay? Did you need your mom for something?”

Simon shook his head back and forth.

“All right, then. You stay put, okay? A guy could get lost in all these chairs.” He gave him a wink. “It was nice to meet you, Simon.” Max needed to catch up with the tour and make his case for not putting in the bar extension.

“Are you sure your name is Max?” Simon had gotten up from his seat and was following behind him.

“That’s the name my mom gave me.”

The boy’s blue eyes peered up at him. “Is your mom’s name Nancy?”

The oddly specific question caught Max off guard. “Nope. My mom’s name is Joanna.”

“My mom’s name is Kendall.”

“I knew that. I could tell from your picture of her.”

“I don’t have a dad,” Simon confessed. His gaze quickly fell to the floor. “He’s in heaven.”

That was unexpected and terribly depressing. Max felt bad for both Simon and his mother. The sadness that sometimes radiated off Kendall made more sense now. The woman had her hands full, it seemed. “I’m sorry to hear that, buddy. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t have a dad, either.”

Simon looked back up. “Is your dad in heaven, too?”

The child’s naivety almost made Max chuckle. Even if his father was no longer alive, he hoped the deadbeat wasn’t living it up on the right side of the pearly gates. “I doubt it,” he answered.

Confusion creased the youngster’s forehead.

“You better go back to your table and finish your drawing.” Max placed his hands on Simon’s shoulders and turned him around. “Your mom and I have some work to do.”

The kid wasn’t so easy to escape. He took two steps before the questions began again. “Do you like cars?”

“I guess.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Do you have to fight in the war?”

That was a strange one. Max squatted down so he was eye to eye with his interrogator. “No.”

“Do you drink milk?”

“Does drinking what’s left in my cereal bowl count?”

“Mom says no.”
Figures.
Moms were no fun sometimes. Simon kept at it. “Do you like chocolate ice cream?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you like dogs?”

“That depends.”

His answer slowed the questions down for a moment. Simon’s head cocked to the side, his bangs sliding across his forehead. “Why does it depends?”

He was still cute, but forget about quiet. This kid was quickly becoming a motor mouth. “I got attacked by this giant Saint Bernard when I was about your size,” Max explained. “I’m sure he was trying to be friendly, but he had a good hundred pounds on me and it pretty much scarred me for life. And when I was twelve, my mom rescued this sheltie and those things shed 24/7. The kids at school made fun of me because my clothes were always covered in dog hair. So, I guess you can say I like little dogs who don’t shed as long as they aren’t yippy.”