Chapter Twelve

K endall smoothed the white cloth napkin over his lap. The fabric was pristine and expensive, not unlike the person sitting across the table from him. He'd been to Fernando's more times than he could count but never with this man.

Chet closed the red leather menu and caught Kendall watching him. "You haven't even looked at the menu."

"Why am I here?"

Chet sighed. "I want you back."

Kendall stiffened. His pitch sounded oddly personal. "You've never had me."

Chet coughed, then took another sip of water. "On my law team, Kendall. I should've been clearer. Sorry."

"Why would you want me to come back to the firm? I never got the impression you liked working with me."

A rueful smile tugged at the lawyer's lips. "I never got the impression you cared what I thought one way or the other."

"It's probably true that I didn't give you a chance. You were the lawyer they'd hired to replace Vivian. And you came in—"

"Like a wrecking ball," Chet said.

Kendall smiled for the first time since his former boss had called to invite him to lunch. Invited was a stretch. Chet had given him a time and location before requesting Kendall arrive promptly since he had a court appearance afterward. "Maybe a little."

"I regret that now, and I'm sorry."

Kendall cocked his head to the side and studied the contrite expression on the handsome man's face. Oddly, Chet appeared sincere, and Kendall wasn't sure what to think about it.

"Apology accepted," he said.

"Does that mean you'll come back?"

Kendall chuckled. "No. My departure has nothing to do with you." Chet aimed a dubious glance at him. "Okay, it had a little to do with you."

"I appreciate your honesty, Kendall. The firm misses you. I miss you. We want you back."

Kendall's chest swelled with pride, but he wouldn't let the compliments go to his head. "The firm is the problem, Chet. I don't want to spend my life helping dickbag clients get away with crimes or watch as they get a little slap on the wrist." He'd felt that way for a long time, but Bobby Jack Dennison had been the nail in the proverbial coffin.

"Okay, what do you want?"

All the joy Kendall had felt went poof . He dropped his gaze to his lap, not wanting to see disappointment or irritation in Chet's eyes. "I honestly don't know."

"Kendall, I'm not trying to lecture you. I'm just trying to help." Kendall raised his chin and met Chet's dark gaze. "Do you like managing the club?"

Kendall shrugged. "I think I have the potential to be good at it."

"That's not what I asked you, though." Kendall had heard Chet use this kind, brotherly voice when questioning defense-friendly witnesses on the stand. He just hoped he wasn't subjected to the hostile interrogation style the Bull Shark reserved for cross examinations. "What would make you happy?"

"I'm not sure anyone has ever asked me that before." Kendall was ashamed to admit it. "I've been programmed to focus on what would honor my family." And where had that gotten him?

Stanton had nearly had a stroke when Kendall had worn lip gloss to one of his dinner parties. His stepfather had taken Kendall into the study and lectured him about his obligations.

It's one thing to be queer, but can't you at least dress and act like a man and stop embarrassing your family? Try my tolerance, and you'll live to regret it.

Those words had been seared into his mind. The warning had been crystal clear. His time living under Stanton Burkhart's rule was coming to an end. So he'd applied for a job at the one place sure to piss off his stepfather the most. Then he'd crashed another dinner party wearing his sexy aviator uniform.

"What is the meaning of this?" Stan had demanded.

Kendall had twirled around, letting him get the full effect of the booty shorts and mesh top. "You don't like my uniform?"

"How dare you humiliate our family in front of our guests."

"What?" Kendall asked with mock innocence. "I didn't put on the hat and aviator glasses in deference to your dress code. That would be too gauche, even for me."

Stanton had demanded he quit the job or move out. Kendall had chosen homelessness. A decision he hadn't regretted in the three years since.

"A career in law isn't in my future. That much I do know. I'll always be grateful I answered the firm's classified ad because it brought Vivian into my life, even if only for a few years. I completed my paralegal courses because it's what she wanted and because I needed to prove to myself that I could see something through to the end."

"Which leads me back to my question. What do you want?"

Kendall took a deep breath. "Do I need to have an answer right now?"

Chet's smile was kind. "Nope. You have plenty of time."

The waiter returned to the table and took their orders. Chet started to order salmon until Kendall reminded him about his court appearance. Chewing gum wasn't an option and brushing his teeth might not be enough. Kendall ordered a grilled chicken salad, and Chet said he'd have the same.

"See?" Chet said when they were alone again. "You're invaluable. I would've gone into court with salmon breath."

Kendall laughed. "You're welcome."

"The firm is donating the Dennison's retainer fee to The Trevor Project. I thought you might like to know."

"Wow," Kendall said. "I'm impressed."

Chet smiled. "Would you be more so if I vowed to donate my billable hours too?"

"Not enough to come back."

Snapping his fingers, Chet said, "Damn."

Kendall propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his palm. "What made the firm decide to donate the money?"

"I asked them nicely." Lunch with Chet had been one surprise after another, but this was the biggest one yet. "And now you want to know why."

"Obviously."

"Because a war is raging inside me. I believe everyone is entitled to a defense, but this is personal for me."

What was Chet telling him? Was he gay? Had he been bullied or known someone who had? Had someone he cared about harmed themself? "Meaning…" Kendall prompted.

"I'm gay too."

Kendall tried his best not to look or sound shocked. "Are you…out?"

Chet nodded. "I am, but I prefer to keep my relationships private. And before you ask, yes, I'd still attend the company functions solo if I were attracted to women."

Kendall smiled sheepishly. "I had no idea whether you attended the firm events with or without a date. Only the lawyers and senior management are invited to the country club."

"Oh," Chet said. "I didn't realize."

"Didn't you ever wonder why I never attended?"

"I just assumed you had cooler things to do."

Kendall chuckled. "You're not wrong there, but the environment at the firm isn't exactly inclusive. It's more of an us-versus-them vibe."

"I see," Chet said. "I never knew you felt that way."

"Well, our conversations centered around business."

"I know your favorite coffee creamer," Chet said. He did? "It's peppermint mocha. And you love plants. The office is drab since you've taken the greenery with you." What the hell was happening here?

Kendall was just about to ask when he became aware of someone approaching their table in his periphery. He turned his head and met the icy blue gaze of his mother. As if this day couldn't get any stranger .

"Hello, Kendall," Rebecca Burkhart said. Her voice was modulated and cool, but the expression in her eyes was warm. She wore a yellow sheath dress that showed off her lovely figure and tan. Her nude heels made her look much taller than her diminutive height. As always, his mother's hair was immaculately styled, and her makeup was artfully applied to enhance her lovely features.

Kendall stood up and set his napkin on the table. "Rebecca," he said coolly. Once, he would've called her mother and embraced her, but that was a long time ago. "It's good to see you."

Her wry smile called his bluff. "And you also." She glanced over at Chet and smiled. "Are you going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Chet rose to his feet and extended a hand. "Chet Dawson, ma'am."

"Mr. Dawson," she said as they shook. "I'm Kendall's mother, Rebecca Burkhart."

"It's lovely to meet you," Chet told her.

"Likewise. Would you mind if I steal my son away for a few moments?"

"Of course not."

"Kendall," she said, looping her arm through his so he couldn't refuse without making a scene. When they were a few feet away, she leaned closer and said, "He's so handsome."

"We're not on a date, Rebecca."

She sighed. "A mother can hope."

They continued to the valet station in awkward silence. She didn't speak again until the attendant left to retrieve her Mercedes.

"I want to reconcile."

Kendall sighed. "Rebecca, Stan wants me to be someone I'm not. I can't—"

"I'm not talking about you and Stan," she said. "I'm talking about us. You and me. And stop calling me Rebecca. I miss you so much, and I hope it's not too late for us."

Clearly, Kendall was still dreaming. Had he imagined the scene with Ridge in the bathroom too? And Chet asking him to come back? He briefly closed his eyes. When he reopened them, his mother was still standing in front of him.

"Kendall," she said, blue eyes searching his.

"Three years, Rebecca."

She swallowed hard and hung her head for a few seconds before meeting his gaze again. "I'm so sorry."

"For what part? Standing by silently as Stan cut me out of the family like I was a cancer? For continuing to choose him over me? Exactly what crime against your only son are you apologizing for?"

"All of them, Kendall."

"What did I do to deserve it?" he whispered. "For some stupid reason, I looked to you after Stan issued his ultimatum. I foolishly expected you to stand up for me. You just stared mutely at the ground."

Rebecca took a shaky breath. "I'd just found Stan having sex with my best friend. I'd taken some anxiety meds and mixed them with alcohol. I don't even remember that night. I'm not trying to make excuses, though."

So that's what had happened to her friendship with Charlotte. Kendall ran his hand through his hair and muttered, "Jesus, Rebecca." He paced a few feet away before returning to her. "You could've died."

"I'm sober now."

"For how long? A week? A month?"

"A year," she replied. "Kendall, there is no excuse for my behavior." She reached forward and took his hands in hers. "I want to make things right. Will you let me?"

The attendant zoomed up before he could reply. He wanted to believe her; he truly did. She was his mother after all. But Kendall had learned the hard way not to trust her commitment to putting his feelings and needs before Stanton's. How many times had she turned to Kendall when Stan hurt her, only to pull away again when his stepfather came to heel? Each time, the knife carved bigger chunks from Kendall's heart until it resembled swiss cheese.

"That was fast," Rebecca told the kid.

"I could drive her around the block for you if you need another minute," he offered.

"That's quite all right." Rebecca turned to face Kendall. "I'll call you soon. Maybe we can have dinner? Perhaps you can bring your handsome new friend." He couldn't imagine introducing Ridge to Rebecca.

Kendall nodded because he didn't think the call would ever come. She gave him a little finger wave before climbing behind the wheel. Once Rebecca drove off, it dawned on Kendall she'd been referring to Chet. She'd thought they were on a date.

"Do you have your ticket?" the attendant asked Kendall.

"Uh, yeah, but I'm not leaving yet. I was just walking my mother out."

"Cool," the kid said in a bored voice.

Kendall headed back inside the restaurant to finish lunch with Chet. His former boss widened his dark eyes when he saw him.

"Are you okay? You look a little shell-shocked."

Kendall dropped into his chair and returned the napkin to his lap. "More than a little. Ever have a day so strange you know you must be dreaming?"

Chet studied him for a few moments before replying. "More than once. Is that the situation for you today?"

"Yeah," Kendall said. "I feel off-balance."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Kendall shook his head, then let loose a bark of laughter that jolted Chet. "Rebecca thinks we're on a date."

Chet's scowl only made Kendall laugh harder. "And you find this humorous?"

Sobering, Kendall said, "Come on. You could do better."

"I don't agree."

Kendall snapped his gaze up to Chet's and froze.

"And I've just compounded your tumultuous day," Chet said. "I can see my second proposal will need to wait."

"Second proposal?" he asked weakly.

"Not an indecent one." Chet winked. "But now you've got me thinking I need to change my approach next time."

"Next time?"

"That we meet. Perhaps for dinner." It was the second dinner invite he'd received in a matter of minutes. The waiter arrived with their salads and ensured everything looked good before leaving them to their own devices.

Kendall picked up his fork and speared a piece of seared chicken. "Dinner, huh?"

"A guy can hope."

Yes , a guy could . Too bad Kendall wasn't thinking about the handsome man sitting across from him. "We'll see."