“It’s crazy.” He shook his head, a blush staining his cheeks. “But when you said diversity in my personal relationships, it occurred to me that I’ve never dated...you know...someone like you before.”

  Caught in a moment of déjà vu, Kennedy bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. “Someone like me?” she asked, giving him the wide-eyed innocent look she employed for these occasions.

  Swallowing visibly, he nodded. “I’ve never gone out with a Black woman before.”

  “Have that on your bucket list, do you?” she asked drolly, doing her damnedest not to snicker.

  “It never really occurred to me until now,” he said with a bashful grin. “You’re beautiful. I’ve never seen eyes like yours before.”

  Kennedy couldn’t help but smile. He was so adorably inept at this. “That’s very nice of you to say, but I suggest you put something else on that bucket list of yours. Believe me, you’re much better off with me helping you in this capacity. I’m excellent at my job. And I’m sure a professional hockey player like yourself won’t have any trouble making all the friends you want from all walks of life.”

  “It was just a thought. I told you it was crazy.”

  “I promise, you’ll be in good company with Zion.”

  She paused before laying out the last two items on his reputation resuscitation to-do list. “You’ll need to issue an apology in front of the cameras. The statement put out by the team wasn’t bad, but at the agency, we find situations like this warrant the personal touch. People want to see your face when you apologize. That way they can judge your sincerity for themselves.”

  Roger looked as if she’d suggested he swim injured and bleeding in shark-infested waters. But like the trooper he was, he agreed.

  “And the last thing I’m going to have you do is sign up as a volunteer for at-risk youths. I already have the organization picked out. It would be two to three days a week while you’re on suspension. Once your suspension is lifted, it can be whenever you can fit it into your schedule, but at least twice a month.”

  He gave a brisk nod of agreement. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Oh, and one last question before you go. Are you aware of any other videos or audios that might put you at odds with the public and the league?”

  “You mean like a sex tape or something like that?” he asked, brows furrowed. “Because I’ve been with a lot of women.” He gave her a rather chagrined so sue me, I love women and I love sex look.

  For a grown man making millions, he was incredibly naive. A sex tape would be the least of his worries. Hell, it would probably do to hockey what Tiger Woods did to golf. Make more people watch the damn sport. He might even get an offer for a reality show out of it.

  “Actually, I was thinking something more along the same lines as the one out now. Anything with you saying something that could be interpreted as...culturally offensive.”

  “No,” he replied adamantly. “I’m not like that. And I never thought calling Wes that name would ever be considered racist.”

  “I believe, more than anything, you never thought what you said to your friend in the comfort of your own home would become public.”

  How many reputations could survive the public airing of private conversations? The number could probably be counted on one hand.

  “You can say that again.”

  “Don’t look so glum. Things are going to get better. I’m going to make sure of it.” Then she offered him a bit of dating advice, should the need ever arise. “And, Roger, a word to the wise. If you ever find yourself thinking about asking a Black woman out on a date—actually, this applies to any woman of color—never preface it by telling her you’ve never asked someone of her race out before. Got it?” she asked, fighting back a smile.

  “I kind of hoped you wouldn’t remember that,” Roger said, blushing.

  Kennedy laughed outright. “Not a chance. I remember everything.”

  10

  Nate had to school his features, this time to hide his annoyance as he watched Kennedy emerge from the car. Instead of accepting his offer of a ride or use of the company car, the stubborn woman had hired an Uber and refused to let him pay for it.

  They’d arranged to meet in front of Chelsea’s Restaurant & Lounge. Kennedy reasoned it didn’t make sense for him to drive to Brooklyn to pick her up, only to have to turn around and drive back to the city. He hadn’t pushed as hard as he wanted—as he should have—fearing she’d balk and back out of their agreement. But this transportation deal they had going needed to be renegotiated.

  He’d talk to her about it later. Right now, his gaze remained riveted on the sight of her walking toward him. She wore a fitted pale green minidress that flared at the hips. Flimsy spaghetti straps left her arms and shoulders delectably bare. She looked beautiful. But then again, she looked beautiful no matter what she wore. Sans clothes, she took his breath away.

  Her short walk from the curb to where he stood near the entrance of the restaurant attracted a number of double takes and a grunt of appreciation so loud he turned and leveled a cold stare at the offending individual—a young Black guy who didn’t appear to be waiting to go inside.

  Unable to avoid his glare, the guy regarded him and tipped his chin at Kennedy. “She with you?”

  Nate’s nod was curt.

  “Sorry, man.”

  Nate didn’t acknowledge the apology, returning his attention to his date as she reached his side. She smelled good, a delicate, floral scent.

  “You look lovely,” he said, trying to express the right amount of admiration without coming across as too effusive.

  Kennedy beamed a smile at him that traveled to his groin on the southern rapid express. “Thank you, kind sir.”

  He placed his hand on her lower back and kissed her lightly on the cheek. It was subtle, but he felt the slight tensing of her body and the hitch in her breath, proof she wasn’t as immune to him as she would have him believe.

  Bringing his mouth close to her ear, he quietly informed her, “Next time, I’m picking you up. No more of this arriving separately shit.” On his drive over, it had occurred to him that ferrying her to and from their dates would be the only chance he’d get to be alone with her, an opportunity he was determined to seize.

  “You do understand we’re not actually dating and this is all for show, right?” There was a note of teasing in her whispered response.

  “You’re doing this for me. The least I can do is provide your transportation,” he argued, continuing to keep his voice low as he opened the door to the restaurant and carefully guided her in.

  Once inside, they joined the line for the hostess and Kennedy turned to him. “I get the feeling you’re a man used to getting your way. Tell me I’m wrong.”

  Nate gave a low chuckle. He hadn’t exactly gotten his way with her. Not the way he’d wanted. “First you demanded my firstborn. I’m giving you transportation instead. That seems like a fair trade. Anyway, it’ll look better if we arrive together, right?” He said nothing about the benefits his presence would have at deterring the kind of crude remarks she unfortunately tended to evoke from men like her young admirer.

  A smile, slow no doubt due to its reluctance, spread across her face, lighting those gorgeous blue-gray eyes of hers. “Fine, you win. But when this whole thing is over, if I end up so spoiled I start turning my nose up at public transportation, it’ll be all your fault.”

  When this whole thing is over.

  If he had his way, the lawsuit stuff would end right now. But their relationship was another matter. He didn’t want it to go back to the way it used to be, especially now that he was home for good.

  “You want a car for work? Because that can be arranged.” He kept his tone light, but he was serious as a heart attack. All she had to do was say the word.

  “Okay, now you’re just playing with me.”

  Nate suppressed a smile. If only.

  “Kennedy?”

  The sound of her name stopped them short. Nate turned to find a tall Black man wearing round wireless glasses staring intently at her.

  “Kennedy Mitchell? Hi, it’s Sam Morgan.”

  One thing was clear—the two didn’t know each other well or hadn’t seen each other in a while. Maybe someone she knew from college?

  Kennedy’s eyes flared in recognition. “Sam. Oh my goodness, it’s so good to see you. How have you been? You look great.”

  In Nate’s impartial opinion—unhindered by his own feelings for her, of course—the guy was more Eddie Murphy in Dr. Dolittle than Idris Elba in just about anything. He reminded him of a staid college professor.

  At her welcoming smile, Sam strode over. “The second you walked in, I knew it was you. You haven’t changed a bit. You look great.” He darted a glance at Nate.

  “Nate, this is Sam. We met a few years ago.” She turned to Sam and asked, “How long has it been? Two years?”

  “It was right after I got tenure, which was over two years ago.” He directed his next remark to Nate. “We went out on a blind date.”

  Bingo. He’d been right about the guy’s profession.

  “And we had a perfectly nice time,” Kennedy said kindly.

  “But not nice enough for you to go out with me again,” he teased lightly.

  A spark of discomfort flashed in her eyes. “Yes, well, that was a crazy time in my life. I was laid off around that time. A week or so after, I think.”

  Sam frowned. “Really? I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Actually, it turned out to be one of the best things to happen to me,” she said. “I’m working for myself now.”

  “That’s wonderful, and congratulations.” His smile tempered when confronted with Nate’s tight-lipped expression. He couldn’t help that forced cordiality wasn’t one of his strong suits. “I should probably let you get back to your...evening. It was nice seeing you again.” To Nate, he gave a brisk nod.

  Not a horrible encounter, but Nate wasn’t sorry to see the back of the man, and he sensed the feeling was mutual.

  “’Bye, Sam,” Kennedy said. As soon as he strode off, she turned to Nate, her mouth set in a pink line of disapproval.

  “What?” he asked innocently, an eyebrow raised in query.

  “Thanks for nothing.”

  Whatever crime he was being accused of, he stood blameless. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “My point exactly. Would it have killed you to be nice?”

  “What do you mean? I was being nice,” he protested. He’d politely nodded hello and stood quietly by while they’d caught up.

  Kennedy huffed. “You know you can be pretty intimidating. I think you made him nervous.”

  “Oh really? What did you want me to do, ask him to join us for dinner?”

  “I would have welcomed the company,” came her cheeky response.

  “If I didn’t think there was a good chance he would’ve accepted, I would have,” Nate said dryly.

  Once they reached the hostess, she greeted them and waved them in. They then proceeded down a short hallway that led to the main room, and it was only then Kennedy spotted the stage at the front.

  Pausing, she shot Nate a look, pleasure lighting her eyes. “Oooh, a live band. Dinner and entertainment. How exciting.”

  “Dinner and entertainment, yes, but no live band.”

  Kennedy’s eyes went back to the stage. “Then what’s that for?”

  “Karaoke.”

  Aurora had informed him Kennedy was a big fan. That was one of the benefits of having a knowledgeable and trusted source on the inside. But also a complication. He’d made the mistake of dating one of his sister’s friends before and it hadn’t ended well. Since then, he’d made sure to give not just his sister’s friends but all clingy women a wide berth. Kennedy, however, he hadn’t been able to resist, and frankly, he could have tolerated a little clingy from her.

  “You like karaoke?” Her question emerged in amused disbelief.

  They resumed course, passing the lounge area as they headed toward the dining area in the rear. “I don’t like or dislike it, but I’m guessing you do,” Nate said as he stopped at the first of the few empty tables available and pulled out a chair for his beautiful date. Kennedy gracefully sat and cast a curious look around.

  The place had the feel of a Vegas nightclub, moody and dimly lit, the patronage a mix of young hipsters and white-collar happy-hour regulars.

  “You took a wild guess I was a karaoke fan?” She appeared skeptical that his predictive skills were that good, watching him as if her bullshit meter was going off loudly in her head.

  “Or you may have said something to me about it. I can’t remember,” he replied evasively as he sat down across from her.

  It had been embarrassing. He’d been like a high school boy instead of the more experienced college graduate he’d been at the time. Even with a couple long-term relationships under his belt, he’d tried to find out everything he could about his sister’s friend. But he’d had to be subtle in his questioning, slipping into the protective older-brother role, expressing a justified interest in the beautiful stranger his baby sister had recently befriended. As the son of celebrity parents, he’d met more than his share of women who’d tried to use him to get to them in hopes of wedging their foot or pinky toe in the exclusive door to Hollywood success.

  Sandwiched between Is she an aspiring model or actress? and Did she know who you were when you met?, he’d casually dropped, What does she like to do for fun? Aurora had told him what he wanted to know, but in the end, she wasn’t fooled. Apparently, he hadn’t been as clever in hiding his real motives as he’d thought.

  “Nope, it wasn’t me.” Kennedy regarded him with a knowing smile.

  “What does it matter who told me? What’s important is that you’re here, and hopefully, everything will be to your satisfaction.” The company above all else.

  “Well, however you found out, I’m surprised you remembered.” There was something coy in the way she looked at him. “Should I be flattered?”

  “I don’t know—you tell me. Does it flatter you to know there isn’t a thing I’ve forgotten about you?” he asked.

  * * *

  Heat flooded Kennedy’s face. She briefly averted her gaze.

  Was it her or was Nate doing that mixed-signal thing again? Sometimes it was hard to tell if flirting with her was purely reflexive. An instinct born from his good looks and how most women responded to him. Or was his interest real? And she wasn’t talking about sex. He’d been there and sampled that. It had lasted four weeks and then he’d wanted them to be “friends.”

  How’s that a blow to the ego?

  “Is that because you have an amazing memory? Aurora told me it’s practically photographic.”

  Oh wonderful, she was playing her own game of Jeopardy! Stupid questions for five hundred, Alex.

  Nate chuckled as if he were in on the game. “My memory is good, but it’s nowhere near photographic. I do tend to remember things that are important to me, though.”

  This time Kennedy met his gaze squarely. “Are you flirting with me?” she asked baldly.

  “If telling the truth is a form of flirting, I guess I am.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Then don’t.”

  “Tell the truth?”

  Argh. He was being deliberately obtuse. “No, I meant don’t flirt with me. I’m doing this as a friend.” There was that word again. “It wouldn’t be good if either of us got the wrong idea, don’t you agree?” And by either of them, she meant her.

  “What idea would that be?” he asked, his gaze dropping to her mouth.

  Lowering her voice, she leaned forward and said, “Stop playing games. You know exactly what I mean.”

  Something flashed in his eyes. “You don’t want to play games, fine, I won’t. You can start by telling me why you refused to speak to me after we stopped sleeping together.”

  Where the hell did that come from? With only seconds to recover from the second full-on assault of their time together in as many days, she responded with the only arrow in her quiver. “I distinctly remember you saying we didn’t do a whole lotta sleeping.”

  The self-satisfaction she felt at her quick-witted comeback was a thing of beauty. She couldn’t pat herself on the back enough.

  Nate glanced around as if to make a point, his gaze idly touring the room full of patrons, before leaning over and whispering in her ear. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate me using that kind of language in public. However, if I remember correctly, you liked when I said it when I was actually fucking you.”

  Kennedy’s face went up in flames, burning away her momentary smugness. Okay, then. The man did have effective tools in his arsenal to render her silent and he wasn’t afraid to use them.

  He continued to regard her, brows raised, his expression as guileless as a card cheat. “Well?”

  Oh wow, he seriously wanted to know. As if he couldn’t have guessed the answer himself a long time ago.

  “I didn’t stop talking to you.”

  Suddenly, a shadow fell over the table. Kennedy looked up to find a smiling young man, who vaguely reminded her of the latest actor to play Spider-Man, clad in the requisite black-and-white server’s uniform.

  “Hi, my name is Rodney and I’ll be your server for the evening. Can I start you folks off with a drink?”

  Smiling, he handed each a dinner and dessert menu before taking their drink orders. At her request for a virgin piña colada, Nate’s mouth gave a discernible twitch. Kennedy studiously ignored him. She certainly wasn’t about to explain to him, of all people, that in dealing with him, complete sobriety was a must. He ordered a whiskey neat.

  When their waiter left, Nate continued as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “You did when you told me not to call.”