Page 50 of Nothing Less than Magic
“We’re in the kitchen,” he says.
She, the woman, sweeps in, clearly familiar with the layout of the house. She’s fifteen times prettier than I thought she was when I first saw her through the window. It’s safe to say she’s supermodel material. Actually, more beautiful than a supermodel, who truth be told are usually a little odd-looking. Gangly and like their faces aren’t quite right.
“Hello, Sienna,” Knox says.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sienna looks straight at me. “I didn’t mean to interrupt anything?”
I start to tell her she isn’t, but Knox says, “If you were really worried about it, you wouldn’t have shown up without calling first.”
She laughs, but it’s an embarrassed laugh. A laugh meant to cover up the fact that she’s been called out in front of a stranger.
“Katie said it was okay for me to borrow her ski pants,” Sienna says.
“Katie doesn’t live here anymore.”
“I know that, Knox.” Her voice is tight. “I’ll just grab the pants and be on my way.” She starts for the staircase.
“Now is not a good time,” Knox says, stopping her in her tracks. “If you’d like to come back, three would be better.”
I don’t understand why he’s making such a big deal about it, why she can’t run upstairs, grab the pants, and be on her way. Why be such a jerk about it? It’s unlike him.
And then it hits me who she is. Who Sienna, of the blond hair and blue eyes, of the supermodel beauty, is. Who she was to Knox.
“Seriously?” Sienna may as well stamp her feet on the floor. “It’ll take all of five minutes, Knox. And I’m already here.”
“I’m sorry, but this is an inconvenient time.” He passes a pointed glance my way. “You’ll have to come back.”
“You’re an asshole!” She marches off, slamming the door behind her.
The sound of Sienna starting her engine, and then her tires on the gravel road, fills the room as I watch through the window as the back of her car jackknifes down the driveway.
“So that was her, huh? The ex-fiancée,” I say.
“That was her.”
“May I say something?”
“Knock yourself out.”
“It doesn’t seem like you’re over her.”
“You can be over someone and still be angry with them.”
I stop to mull that over, because he makes a valid point. I may or may not be over Austin, but there’s no question that I’m pissed as hell at him. Love and anger can be mutually exclusive of each other, but I’m not altogether sure that’s what I heard a few minutes ago.
“Why?” I ask.
“Why am I still angry at my ex? Because she did a shitty thing. She betrayed my trust. And worse, she took away my best friend.”
Ahh, now we’re getting somewhere. “Are you angry with her for that? Or the best friend? Because from where I’m sitting, he’s equally responsible.”
“You’re doing it again. You’re shrinking me. Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”
“Yes. But friends and family get me twenty-four-seven.”
He laughs. “Thanks, but no thanks. And as for him, the best friend, he’s more than equally responsible. He violated the guy code, which in my book is unforgivable. But it doesn’t mean I don’t miss him. And right or wrong, fair or unfair, I take it out on Sienna.”
“Do you miss Sienna, too?”
