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After a few hours, I get up to stretch my legs and look out the window. The wind howls and more snow falls. I can’t see ten feet outside and the weather channel says it won’t clear up anytime soon.
I grab the loaf of bread and make myself a PB&J sandwich, then make another pot of coffee. I’m not used to doing nothing and find it hard to sit and relax. Luckily, I can read medical journals on my iPad and chat with my co-workers or my patients.
Once I’ve finished eating, I walk into the living room and put more wood inside the fireplace before lighting it. Hopefully, Kendall comes down soon so I can apologize for being a dick. Maybe the smell of coffee and a fire will lure her.
Ten minutes later, I’m sitting at the table when Kendall enters. She doesn’t look at me when she passes and goes straight to the fridge. She’s wearing leggings and a baggy sweatshirt that hangs off her shoulder. Her dark, long hair is pulled up into one of those messy buns that looks really sexy. The Kendall Montgomery I know always has a full face of makeup on but right now she’s bare-faced. Her natural pink lips and cheeks are hard not to notice. I love seeing her like this.
Awkward silence lingers in the air as she opens it and digs out food. I study her, wondering if this is how things will be between us the rest of our time here.
A few minutes pass and neither of us speak. I study the way she moves around the kitchen, momentarily fantasizing about bending her over the counter.
“What?” Kendall snaps, breaking me out of my trance. She arches a brow, glaring at me. “Why are you watching me like a creep? What do you want?”
I clear my throat and stand, then walk toward her. “I’m sorry for what I said and how I acted earlier. I was out of line.”
Kendall stares at me for a beat before shoving a piece of toast in her mouth. “Whatever.” She shrugs before busying herself with cleaning the counter.
“Kendall,” I plead. “Don’t be stubborn. Either accept my apology or don’t.”
She furrows her brows. “Maybe you deserve to sweat it out. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t.”
“Oh come on. I apologized, what else do you want?”
“I want you to get to know me instead of using the stereotypical crap you’ve heard against me.”
I know her more than she realizes. While we’ve never hung out, she was with Cami so much that it was hard not to notice her. I learned a lot by observing even when I tried not to. She crawled under my skin without trying, and by the looks of it, she’s still there.
“Alright,” I say, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. She stands across from me and narrows her eyes. I continue, “I’m all ears.”
“While you and the rest of the world think I’m a spoiled trust fund baby, I’m dedicating a lot of my time volunteering and giving back as much as I can. I know I’m privileged, but I’m not selfish like people assume. Aside from donating to charities and the homeless shelters in the city, I help struggling small businesses fundraise. I’ve hosted several events for free that were successful which meant they didn’t have to lay off their employees. I’ve helped with charity events that needed to fill tables too. What I do isn’t for publicity which is why you didn’t know about it. I genuinely care about people and am not as self-centered as everyone makes it out to be. Before the lockdown, I served food at shelters every other weekend and on every major holiday. I’ve actually met a lot of people from all different walks of life and am learning what people struggle with the most. When I see people on the streets, I book hotel rooms so they can have a warm place to sleep for a few nights. Sure, I might not save lives but I try to help make people’s lives better.”
“That’s inspirational, Kendall,” I say wholeheartedly. “I mean it.”
“I don’t do it for praise because it means more than that to me. I’m in the position to give, so I do my best.”
I should’ve known Kendall was the type of person to donate her time and money. The last decade I was so focused on my career that I lost sight of who she is at her core.
“You should be proud. So many don’t think twice about giving and you’re doing it regularly.”
“I’m looking forward to serving them lunch on Thanksgiving since I couldn’t last year because of the virus. My parents host a huge event at their home every year and it gives me an excuse to skip.” She shrugs modestly. “But really, I enjoy being at the shelter more. It’s a no-judgment zone and they’re happy to just sit and chat with me.”
