“A fight? No.” He lifted his champagne. “We’d actually have to speak to have a fight.”
“Yeah, I noticed you’re getting the cold shoulder. Who is that guy?”
“That one? Not sure. There’ve been so damn many,” Kennedy said, forcing himself to glance in Kate’s direction.
Sure enough, she was chatting it up with some beefcake of a guy. And actually, Kennedy did know this one. He’d met Lara’s cousin at the rehearsal dinner the night before. Sort of a douchebag, but Kate didn’t seem to notice. Or care.
Just like she didn’t seem to care that his assistant, Christian, was gay when she’d flirted with him. Or with Jarod Lanham when she’d laughed hysterically at everything the man said. Or that kid who looked all of twenty-three.
She wasn’t making a spectacle of herself. She wouldn’t have done that to Lara and Ian. But anyone who knew her well, as Kennedy and Sabrina did, knew that this wasn’t normal Kate. Her eyes were too bright, her laugh a little bit brittle.
Kennedy glanced at Sabrina and expected to see her watching Kate as well. Instead, Sabrina was watching him, her gray-blue eyes concerned. “You’re worried about her.”
He thought about denying it. Telling her to mind her own business. But Sabrina was important to him. They didn’t go back as far as she and Ian, and there’d never been any chemistry between them, but they’d clicked on a friendship level from the very beginning.
And right now, he needed a friend.
He nodded. “Yeah. I’m worried about her.”
“You care about her.”
He nodded again. Shrugged.
“No, I mean, you care about her, Kennedy.”
Kennedy looked at her. “Of course I care about her. I care about you. And Lara. And the guys, when they’re not being annoying.”
“And because I care about you, I’m going to call bullshit. Your feelings for Kate are nothing like your feelings for Lara and me. And I know you, Kennedy. I know that beneath that gruff exterior of yours, you feel deeply.”
“No psychobabble, please,” he said with a wince.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
“What do you want me to say?” he snapped. “She knows I’m here, but she’s gone out of her way not to talk to me or even acknowledge my presence.”
“Why?”
He took another sip of champagne. He may be annoyed as hell with Kate right now, but he wasn’t about to expose her vulnerabilities to others, even a friend like Sabrina.
But Sabrina knew her friend well. “It was Lara’s father walking her down the aisle, wasn’t it?” Sabrina asked. “I could tell she was upset. Poor thing.”
Kennedy didn’t bother to argue. Of course she was upset. Anyone who’d lost her father a month and a half earlier would be, but it was extra brutal for someone like Kate. Sabrina thought he felt deeply? He had nothing on Kate. Despite her efforts over the past few weeks to keep everyone—most of all him—at a distance, it wasn’t who she was. Kate didn’t do anything in half measures. She threw herself one hundred percent into everything. Her work. Her friendships.
Love.
Hadn’t she told him as much? That she was holding out for the head-over-heels sort of love that he’d always thought was fictional?
He knew better now.
The trouble was, Kate loved with all she had. And she grieved that way, too. Just as the old Kate had once believed with her whole heart that true love was out there waiting for her, the new Kate was just as determined to shut herself off from the pain.
“It’s not like I’ve asked her to marry me,” he muttered.
Sabrina blinked slowly and stared at him. “Sorry. What?”
Shit. “Nothing. I just . . . I couldn’t possibly have moved any slower with her. I’ve been trying to give her time and space, and the whole thing blew up in my face.”
“I thought that’s what might be happening,” Sabrina said with a sigh. “I have to take a little responsibility for it, too. I more or less told her to bone you to get you out of her system.”
He gave her a look. “Thanks for that.”
“Well, at the time, I didn’t know you were in love with her.”
Kennedy didn’t bother to deny it. “I didn’t know it, either.”
Sabrina sighed again and scooted closer, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Kennedy.”
He pecked a brotherly kiss on the top of her head but didn’t say anything.
“For what it’s worth,” she said after a long minute of silence, “I’ve always thought you two were meant for each other.”
“Me too,” Kennedy said slowly, a little surprised at how easy the admission was. “But looking at her now . . .”
Kennedy winced as the song turned to a slow, drippy ballad, and Kate tugged Lara’s cousin onto the dance floor. Watching her laugh with another man had been hard enough. Seeing another man’s arms around her was a whole other kind of agony.
“I know. Which is why we need a new plan,” Sabrina said, standing as Matt headed toward their table to retrieve his wife for a dance.
“What are you thinking?” Kennedy asked tentatively. Normally he didn’t particularly relish advice on his personal life—or at all—but Sabrina had made a lucrative career out of fixing other people’s problems. If he was going to listen to anyone, it’d be her.
“I’m thinking maybe we were wrong about her needing space.”
“And?”
Sabrina studied her friend on the dance floor before glancing back at Kennedy. “She’s a little broken right now, but deep down, Kate still wants someone who’s not afraid to go all in—someone willing to put it all on the line. For her.”
“I know.” He said it quietly.
Sabrina put her hand on his shoulder. “Be that guy.”
“What is your problem?” Kate snapped at him as he pulled her away from the reception. “Blake and I were dancing.”
“Dancing is a stretch for what that was,” Kennedy grumbled. “His hands were about six inches too low for dancing, and the only movement I saw was you rubbing against him.”
“Oh, nice,” she said, trying to tug her wrist free from his grip. “Playing the part of the jealous boyfriend? Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously, Kate,” he said, spinning back toward her just in time to see surprise register on her face. “Tell me, what exactly was your plan here tonight? What was the goal? To dump me without actually having to say a word or look me in the eye?”
She blinked quickly, but not before he saw the flash of guilt. She knew she’d behaved badly, and it mollified him. Slightly.
His chest still ached.
“I’ve been rude to you,” she acknowledged, crossing her arms. “And I’m sorry, truly. But I can’t dump you, Kennedy. We’re not dating.”
There it was. Proof that his give her space plan had been solid in theory but fucked in practice. He’d given her too much space, too much wiggle room, and he was losing her. Damn it.
“Kate.” He stepped toward her, ignoring the fact that sand was getting all up in his shoes, and blocking out the sound of the reception, the bonfire in the distance, even the drunken college kids who had just gone racing past them. “I know today was hard on you.”
She stepped back, her eyes suspiciously bright. “Don’t be ridiculous. I love weddings. I’m thrilled for Ian and Lara.”
“I know you are. I also know it was hard for you to see Mr. McKenzie walk Lara down the aisle.”
She swallowed and looked toward the water, and he saw her eyes were shining.
He dragged a hand over his face. There was nothing worse than knowing she was hurting and he couldn’t help, but he was hurting, too.
“I’m not trying to pressure you, Kate. I don’t want to rush—”
“Then don’t,” she said at a near shout. “I’ve been clear with you, Kennedy. I don’t know how to be clearer. I don’t want . . . this.” She gestured between them.
“You used to,” he said, hating how desperate
he sounded. “You told me that night on the boat that you used to.”
“Past tense, Kennedy.”
“Bullshit,” he said, anger kicking in around the pain. “You can’t look me in the eye and tell me these past months have meant nothing to you, that we haven’t come damn far. I’ve seen the way you look at me, Kate, and I know damn well you’ve seen the way I look at you. You can’t tell me you don’t feel what I feel every time our eyes meet, every time we touch. You’re hurting right now, and I get that. You need more time, and I can do that, but you’ve got to give me something, Kate. Tell me to wait, and I’ll wait as long as you need. I’ll wait forever, but don’t end this.”
Kate’s eyes were bright with tears, and for a heart-stopping moment of hope, he thought she’d tell him what he wanted to hear—what he needed to hear, more desperately than he’d ever needed anything.
Instead, she backed away, and his hopes crashed down around him. Wordlessly, she shook her head.
He swallowed. “So, what, the past few weeks have just been you fooling around?”
“You knew that it was.” Her voice pleaded with him to understand. “What do you want from me?”
He stepped closer. “I want access to the old Kate, the one who believed in love at first sight, who would never settle for ‘fooling around.’”
She shook her head and looked down at her feet. “I can’t—”
“Kate.” He tried one last time, gently lifting her chin until she was looking at him again. “You have to know that’s why I jumped at the chance to have Christian as my assistant instead of you. It’s because I knew full well I couldn’t date my assistant. And I want to date you. More than anything.”
“But it won’t last. Everything ends one way or another, because that’s life.”
“Is that what you’d tell Lara and Ian or Sabrina and Matt? Or would you tell them to go for it? That they can’t just quit on the good stuff in life because they’re scared of the bad.”
A tear leaked out of the corner of her eye.
Kennedy moved slowly, reaching out and cupping her face, relieved when she didn’t move away. “We’re the good stuff, Kate. No, I didn’t hear angels singing the first moment our eyes met, but that’s got nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. You know me. Things take me a while. I think too much; I’m always up in my head. I may not feel as quickly as you, but I do feel, Kate.
“You once said you wanted someone who’d fall hard and fast for you, and while I know I let you down on the fast part . . . I did fall, Kate. I’ve fallen all the way.”
He swallowed. It was the closest he’d ever come to saying he loved a woman, and he willed her to hear it.
She searched his face for a long moment, and Kennedy held his breath.
“Good speech, Dawson.” She said it quietly, but it hit him like a slap anyway. “But we’ve just screwed a few times. Don’t romanticize it.”
His hands dropped, his arms falling limply to his sides as pain splintered through his entire midsection.
Kennedy loved her. More than anything. But she wasn’t the only one who needed to self-protect from hurt. And right now, the one with the power to hurt him was her.
So Kennedy forced himself to nod. Step back. Turn. And walk away.
30
Monday, June 10
“Wolfe Investments, this is Kate.”
She tucked her phone under her ear as she repositioned the egg on her Starbucks breakfast sandwich so it was centered.
“Kate. It’s Christian.”
She licked cheese off her finger and put the English muffin back on top. Then shoved it away. She wasn’t hungry. Hadn’t been hungry in more than twenty-four hours. Not even for cheese.
“Hey, you sound awful,” she said to her protégé. “Did Genevieve give you that nasty cold? I told her last week she should have stayed home.”
“I guess,” he said glumly. “I’d come in, but—”
“Don’t,” she ordered. “Nothing is more annoying than the moron who brings his snot into the office to show what a trouper he is, and then takes out the whole office with his cooties.”
“I know. But I’m so new, and it feels lame to ask you to fill in for me this soon. I’ve only been there a few weeks . . .”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, though her decisive tone was wavering as she realized what Christian’s absence would mean. She’d have to fill in for him. As Kennedy’s assistant.
She hadn’t seen him since that night, and the thought of coming face-to-face again . . .
Her stomach roiled with queasiness. She swiped the breakfast sandwich into the trash before she barfed.
Kate flicked her mouse to wake up her computer, desperate for a distraction. “I still have access to Kennedy’s calendar, but is there anything I should know?” She carefully kept her voice professionally indifferent.
“Well, that’s actually the good news,” Christian said after blowing his nose. “Kennedy’s out today.”
She froze. “Out?”
Kennedy was never out. He took maybe one vacation a year, usually a golf trip. But spontaneous days off? Never. As far as she knew, the guy didn’t even get sick.
“Yeah, he just texted me an hour ago and said he was taking a personal day,” Christian said, blissfully unaware of how atypical that was for Kennedy. Even more unaware of why Kennedy was taking a day off.
I did fall, Kate. I’ve fallen all the way.
“I’ve already called and rescheduled all of his meetings,” Christian was saying. “So other than manning the phone, you should be Kennedy-free today.”
Oh, she’d be Kennedy-free a lot longer than that. She’d made sure of that, hadn’t she? She didn’t think one could ever come back from her good speech, Dawson bombshell.
“There’s a folder on my desk of stuff to be filed,” Christian was saying. “But Kennedy made a point of saying it was low priority, so it can probably wait until tomorrow.”
“I’ll get to it if I can,” she said absently. She knew the routine. Kennedy had fully embraced the digital age and kept electronic copies of everything in the cloud. But Kennedy, being Kennedy, also kept hard copies of things he deemed especially important. It was a good sign that he’d asked Christian to file them. It meant he trusted his new assistant.
“Thanks, Kate. I appreciate it.”
“Of course. Let me know if you think of anything else, but mostly focus on getting better, okay? Lots of sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She hung up with Christian and stared unseeingly at the computer screen. She took a sip of coffee. It had no flavor. Since when did coffee have no flavor? Kate mentally slapped herself. She wasn’t going to be that girl. This was her decision. She was the one who’d made the smart call, rather than the emotional one. She would be smart. Independent. Maybe take up kickboxing.
“Kickboxing, Kate? Really?” she muttered to herself.
She tried to focus on her computer for real, and as she went through her normal routine of checking the guys’ calendars, it hit her . . .
None of the guys were coming into the office today. Ian was on his honeymoon in Paris. Matt and Sabrina had decided to extend their stay in the Hamptons after the wedding.
Kennedy was out.
Which meant Kate was good and truly alone at the office. She couldn’t remember the last time that’d happened, if there even was a time.
“Well,” she said, sipping the coffee again, then frowning because it was tasting even blander by the moment. “A quiet day. That’s exactly what I need after a busy weekend.”
But by ten a.m., Kate realized quiet was the last thing she wanted. The last thing she needed. Solitude left her alone with her thoughts, and her thoughts, as they were, were agonizingly brutal.
The night of the wedding kept playing like a nightmarish montage. Not the wedding itself, obviously. It had been a beautiful ceremony. But she couldn’t deny that seeing Lara’s dad walk her down the aisle had been excruciatin
g. She’d known it was going to hurt, but she hadn’t been expecting it to feel like her legs had been kicked out from under her, like her chest had been crushed. And having Kennedy standing just a few feet away through it all, looking at her like . . . like . . .
I did fall, Kate. I’ve fallen all the way.
Even if it were true, she didn’t want to fall back. She didn’t think she could stomach the pain of loving someone all the way and then losing him.
Especially Kennedy.
Desperate for a distraction, she called her mom.
Eileen picked up on the third ring. “Hi, honey.”
“Hey, Mom!” She forced brightness into her tone. “How are you?”
“Good! Actually, Janine and I were just walking into the salon to get our nails done. Can I call you later?”
Rejected by her own mother. “Of course!” Whoops. Her tone was too bright and hit on a false note.
Her mom noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just a long weekend.”
“Oh right, the wedding! How was it?”
“Amazing. Absolutely perfect,” Kate said. “But seriously, go do your thing. Call me when you get a chance—no hurry.”
This time she managed to achieve her usual calm, in-control Kate tone, and her mom let her off the hook. “Okay, talk soon. Love you.”
“I love you, too,” Kate said before hanging up and finding herself once again surrounded by uncomfortable silence. Even the phones were unusually quiet.
By lunchtime, she’d finally cracked and had begun talking to herself again.
“This is what you wanted,” she reminded herself as she pulled her prepackaged Whole Foods salad out of the fridge. “You wanted space, and you got it. You wanted to learn how to rely on yourself for happiness, not someone else, so this is good practice.”
She nodded at herself, as though that would make the pep talk more convincing, when in reality, even to her own ears it sounded like a cliché movie about some loser woman who’d gotten knocked down by life and, instead of coping with it, had turned into some irrational weirdo.
Kate managed only three bites of salad before shoving that aside as well, her appetite still nowhere to be found. Caught up on her inbox and still looking for something to occupy her mind, she went to Christian’s desk and picked up the navy file folder. She’d given all of the guys their own color files a couple of years ago to make things easier on herself. Ian was orange, Matt was green, and Kennedy was navy. She dealt with a lot more navy folders than she did the other colors, since Kennedy liked to print out just about everything in addition to his various cloud backup systems. She’d protest more, but she liked that he also donated an obscene amount of money to reforestation, so maybe it all evened out.
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