The Perception (The Exception #2)

“Sam,” I started, trying to wrap my brain around her actions, “I’m not worried about Blaine trying to take Kari away. We’re getting married soon. Relax.”


“I’m not going to relax! What if he does something to me?”

Cane stood quickly, taking us all by surprise. “Even if this vomit running from that mouth of yours is true, which I highly doubt, it isn’t about you. Blaine doesn’t want you—he’s not going to do anything to you. Stop being the fucking victim and stop trying to manipulate everyone.”

“I’m not,” she breathed out, her bottom lip quivering. “I’m scared for all of us.”

Cane and I exchanged a look and I stood, too. “Then you should get some distance between you and me and this whole situation.”

Her eyebrows arched at my suggestion, definitely not what she was looking for.

“I really can’t justify having you work here anymore, anyway. We were gonna talk about that this afternoon. I’ll have Hilah get your checks together and we can mail them or I’ll have them couriered to you.”

“You’re firing me? Max, please. You need me . . .”

“You’ve done a great job and I’ll give you a reference. But you’re gonna need to find another job, okay?”

Running her hands down her dress and looking from Cane to me and back to Cane again, she looked like a little lost girl. It made me remember the moments of our childhood, a set of memories that would always include her.

“No, it’s not okay! You are being ridiculous, thinking you can just run off with that bitch.”

I took a step towards her, feeling more violent towards a lady than I cared to feel. I clenched my hands at my side, feeling Cane watch me, ready to step in.

“Listen, Sam. I’ve tried to be nice and if I’m bein’ honest, that’s probably part of your problem. But enough’s enough. Get out. Now.”

“Max—”

“Out, Sam. I’ve let this go on long enough. I don’t know what’s goin’ on in that head of yours, but it isn’t my problem. Get out of my office and get Kari’s name out of your mouth. Hear me?”

“I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you.” Her gaze was heavy on my chest as her breathing got more harsh, her lips thinning out in a firm line. “You think you can walk all over me, ignore me, pretend like I’m no one to you—you’re wrong. Dead wrong.”





KARI


The kitchen smelled of spices as the pasta sauce simmered away on the stovetop. Garlic bread was heating in the oven, wine poured into wine glasses, and a green salad in a new bowl I’d picked up at Target on the table. Titus was asleep on the couch, something Max wouldn’t be very happy about, but he’d get over it.

The wind was whistling outside, the sky unusually bleak for Phoenix. The smell of the air, the feel of the cold air on the horizon always reminded me of my mother. I was young when she passed away, but I had a few clear memories, one of them being her at the stove, making the very same pasta sauce I had made.

Her life was cut short, way too short. She loved Jada and me, always baking things and buying us pretty dresses and dolls. She was my class mom in Kindergarten and my friends loved her. She was so pretty, always in heels and with perfect hair, just like June Cleaver.

One day it’d been raining. I remember sitting on a grey couch we had that overlooked the backyard. The water had gathered in the dips of the yard and I wanted to go jump in the puddles so bad, but I didn’t want to get all wet before dinner. I remembered my mom asking me, “Kare Bear, what’s wrong?” and I told her sadly what I had been thinking. She said to me, “You’re only going to have today once. Go play.”

And I did. I jumped and splashed and danced and carried on . . . and it was probably the last day of pure joy I had.

She died a few days after.

“Kari?”

I jumped at the sound of Max’s voice. I whirled around to see him standing at the doorway, his arms overhead and grabbing the doorframe. His shirt inched up, the bottom of his abs peeking out of his shirt.

It was divine.

“Hey, babe.” I smiled widely as the dimple in his cheek sank in. “How was work?”

The dimple disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. “Ugh,” he growled, bending down and grabbing a box. With a scowl, he walked through the kitchen and tossed a box on the counter. “I fired Sam today.”

“You did what?” I gasped.

“She’s losing her damn mind or something. I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his hair and looked like he didn’t want to continue, but knew he had to. “When I went by to check on her before we went to Payson . . . there was nothin’ wrong with her, Kar. She just blabbered on and on so I left. Then when we were up there, she kept calling and saying Blaine left her because he wanted you back.”