Kennedy audibly exhaled. She’d told him he didn’t have to call. Big difference. “What was the point? I mean, what was there to talk about? You told me to go to school, live it up, and have a good time. Well, that’s exactly what I was doing. Plus, it wasn’t as if we’d been in a relationship.”

  “And here I thought we were going to be friends. That’s what we agreed on.”

  What else was she going to say when he’d made it clear that he was going to be super busy building his company and wouldn’t have time for a girlfriend? She got that, for him, their time together was all about having fun. No harm, no foul. Because of Aurora, they’d be in touch, so why not make the best of it by going on as friends?

  She’d nodded in agreement and assured him that things would be good between them going forward. And she’d meant it...at the time. She hadn’t realized that her sadness and hurt had hardened into anger until his first phone call—that came three weeks after classes started. Seriously, the nerve of him thinking he could call her out of the blue like that. It wasn’t as if her heart had leaped to her throat every time her phone rang in all the days preceding. Or that she’d swallowed down a heartbreak of disappointment when it hadn’t been him. That hadn’t happened.

  “Actually, the whole us-being-friends thing was your idea.” If a trip down memory lane meant setting the record straight, she’d act as the stenographer.

  “Are you saying you didn’t want to be friends?”

  “What I’m saying is after classes started it put things in perspective. What happened between us happened. But it didn’t mean we had to force a friendship that wasn’t there from the beginning. Before, we only ever saw or spoke to each other because of Aurora. I figured we could go back to that.” What would they have to talk about, in any case? Their respective boyfriends and girlfriends? Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Nate’s head dipped in a slow nod. “It would have been nice if you told me that’s how you felt.”

  “I did when I said you didn’t have to call me anymore.” She’d given him an out and he’d pushed the door open the rest of the way and run through it so fast it made her head spin. He’d never called her again.

  He laughed wryly, watching her from the corner of his eye. “Yeah, well, you made it pretty damn clear you didn’t want me calling anymore.”

  Kennedy had to bite her tongue to stop herself from saying, You know, for a guy with such a high IQ, you’re not all that bright when it comes to women.

  Once again, their conversation was put on hold when Rodney returned with their drinks. He remained another minute while they belatedly perused the menu and ordered their entrées.

  Determined to take control of the conversation—and end it once and for all—as soon as Rodney was out of earshot, Kennedy asked, “Why are you bringing this up now?”

  Nate stared at her, his expression inscrutable. “Do you realize we haven’t been alone together like this in over ten years?”

  Come again? “What is that supposed to mean? And why do you always answer a question with a question?”

  “I am answering your question,” he stated calmly. “You want to know why now. The answer is because this is the first time the opportunity presented itself—and when you’re not rushing off to a meeting. Don’t you think it’s time to clear the air?”

  There he goes again.

  “Clear the air about what?” Now it was her turn to play obtuse. “You’re my best friend’s brother. I’ve always been nice to you, even after...everything. If anyone started acting different, it was you, not me.”

  Three months after he’d skillfully (and pleasurably) relieved her of her virginity, the next time they’d seen each other was when Aurora invited her to Thanksgiving at their parents’ apartment in New York. Nate, who’d been traveling a lot at the time, initially said he wouldn’t be able to make it. He’d surprised everyone by arriving a half hour before they sat down to eat, claiming he’d been able to clear his schedule at the last minute. As expected, Aurora and her parents had been overjoyed at his change of plans. Kennedy, on the other hand, would’ve appreciated him giving a girl a heads-up so she could prepare herself for the emotional upheaval of coming face-to-face with him.

  In the end, the tumult of emotion had been exclusively on her side. Nate had been unfailingly polite to her. And it had gutted her. The entire evening had gone from one form of torture to another. The catered dinner she’d been looking forward to eating, she’d barely touched. And she hadn’t said more than a few words during the after-dinner chat and drinks. Nate could not have been more remote and cool to her if he’d deliberately set out to make sure she knew how little she meant to him. The only good thing to come out of the evening had been Kennedy’s renewed sense of self-possession and pride, because she wouldn’t allow him to take them from her. She’d made a mistake in getting involved with him, but mistakes were how people learned. No one could ever accuse her of not being a quick study.

  “You said you wanted me to go back to just being your friend’s brother and that’s what I did,” he replied, with an I gave you what you asked for, it’s not my fault you didn’t like it glibness.

  “What did you expect me to say? You made it very clear you didn’t have time for a girlfriend.” He conveniently kept leaving that part out. “Aurora was my best friend. Of course I wanted us to get along. But clearly I didn’t realize what a little shit you’d been before,” she retorted.

  Who did he think he was fooling? He’d wanted to have it both ways. He hadn’t wanted her to be his girlfriend, but he’d been certain she’d be thrilled whenever he deigned to sprinkle some attention her way.

  Yeah, she was not that girl and had never been.

  Nate studied her, a myriad of emotions flitting across his face. After a long pause, he asked in a seductively quiet voice, “Ever think maybe you had no idea what you wanted?”

  For several seconds, Kennedy forgot to breathe. When the ability returned, it came in a rush of anger. But as quickly as he sent her blood pressure soaring, she forcibly restrained herself. Allowing him to poke or prod her into losing control of her emotions would give him the upper hand, which was exactly what he wanted.

  “Why don’t we drop the subject before I say something I’ll probably regret? Let’s agree to leave the past where it is and concentrate on preserving your company’s reputation.”

  Nate’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. After a beat, he said, “Fine, we’ll do it your way. So who were you dating before me?”

  “As topics of conversation go, my dating life is off-limits,” she replied crisply.

  Nate took a drink of his whiskey before remarking with a little too much smugness, “The operative word is were. You seem to be forgetting that, for now, I am your dating life.”

  “You’re my fake dating life,” she corrected.

  He arched a dark blond eyebrow. “You either have a real dating life or a fake one. You can’t have both. The last thing I need are stories of my girlfriend dating other men.”

  Kennedy absently stirred her piña colada with the straw. Did he think she was stupid? Of course she knew she couldn’t date anyone else while they were supposed to be together. It was also none of his business who she’d been dating before. She gave a fleeting thought to Aidan, marveling at how little she’d thought of him since Nate had appeared on the scene.

  “What about my male friends? I do have them, you know.” Jonathan and Darrell were good friends and she loved hanging out with them. No need to tell Nate that she didn’t have any straight male friends. She’d tried it in the past, but it never worked. Every guy who’d ever told her they were fine just being friends had been lying. Shocking.

  Nate stared into her eyes and then made a head-to-toe sweep of her. She deeply resented what the look did to her insides, the way her stomach bottomed out in reaction to it. “You do, do you? Then what are we? Do you consider us friends?”

  The way he was looking at her—the heat in his gaze—had her swallowing hard and her face warming to embarrassing degrees of discomfort.

  “Apparently not according to your exact definition of the word,” she replied with a forced laugh in an attempt to bring the conversation back to a friendlier footing.

  Nate returned her smile, his easy and relaxed. “Then how about we shoot for simply getting along? I’ll take that.”

  Kennedy held up her glass. “I’ll toast to that.”

  11

  Today was one of those days that Nate wished for a campus like Apple Park in California. The tech giant was headquartered on one hundred and seventy-five acres and had cycling and jogging trails—an impossibility in a city nicknamed the Concrete Jungle. Constellation’s corporate offices were housed in two twenty-two-story buildings connected by a glass sky bridge and not located close enough to Central Park to offer a view indicating they were in anyplace except a big city no matter which floor you were on.

  In renovating the buildings, he’d had to work with what he had, creating separate outdoor work and eating areas in the courtyard. The work section came equipped with tables that seated four, and electrical outlets. On warm summer days like today, when the humidity wouldn’t have him sweating through his shirt, he found it preferable to work out here rather than upstairs cloistered in his office.

  “I thought this was where I’d find you.”

  Nate shot a glance over his shoulder and watched Jack’s unhurried approach. Like him, his friend wore chinos and one of the company’s short-sleeved collared shirts featuring their logo, which was a constellation, because of course.

  “So that’s Kennedy,” Jack remarked, spinning the chair across from Nate around and casually straddling it. After dropping his folder on the table, he rested his forearms along the back of the chair.

  “Yeah, that’s Kennedy.” Nate returned his attention to his laptop but could feel his friend’s gaze on him, a ridiculous smirk on his face. It looked like everyone had either seen the press conference or the picture of them in the papers last week. His mother had called him that night to commend him on his skillful handling of the situation. She’d also taken the time to defend her husband against the twenty-year-old allegation the reporter had raised. Impertinent upstart. Your father handled the situation the best he could. Saved the production, if you ask me.

  “Funny, whenever you talked about her, I don’t remember you saying anything about how hot she was. You leave that part out for a reason?”

  Nate ignored questions that didn’t warrant an answer. His friend was being a dick.

  “Where’d you disappear to after the press conference? You didn’t go back to your office.”

  “I took Kennedy to lunch and then gave her a ride to her appointment.” She’d gotten her pizza.

  Jack strangled a laugh. “A ride, huh?”

  Nate cast his eyes skyward and prayed for strength. “What are you, six? She’s Aurora’s best friend.” It was amazing that someone as brilliant as his friend still possessed the sense of humor of a middle grader.

  “Ah, c’mon. Don’t lie and tell me there’s nothing going on between you. Besides the scene at the press conference, I saw the picture of you two in the papers.”

  “Since when did you start reading gossip?”

  “I don’t. My mom emailed it to me. I taught her how to save an image on the internet last month, and as you can see, she’s putting her new skills to good use.”

  That didn’t surprise Nate one bit. Divorced from Jack’s father for five years, she lived in Long Island and had gone from devoting her life to her banker husband and two children, to devouring the latest celebrity news like it was her job and she was gunning for a promotion.

  “I know she didn’t send it without commentary.” Sighing, Nate snapped his laptop closed and regarded his friend. “Let me guess. She said something about Kennedy being Black?”

  The look of discomfort on his friend’s face confirmed he’d hit the nail on the head. The woman was as predictable as she was closed-minded.

  In pitiful defense, Jack said, “You know my mom. She’s old-fashioned.”

  And by old-fashioned, he meant racist as fuck. A throwback from the 1950s even though she was born in the early ’70s, she also disapproved of bikinis and miniskirts, and constantly complained that professional women tried too hard to be like men by committing the crime of wearing pants to work. She vainly believed the perfect woman had been made in her image: wealthy, attractive, straight, and white. Needless to say, a champion of women’s rights and diversity she was not. Nate suspected Jack’s younger sister was gay but too terrified, ashamed, or a combination of both, to come out to her parents for fear of being disowned.

  “Tell your mother she needs to join the twenty-first century.”

  “She did say Kennedy was exceptionally beautiful.”

  Nate resisted the urge to roll his eyes as his friend’s efforts to excuse his mother’s remarks continued to fall flat. Nate changed the subject before he said something he’d later regret. “So, what do you have for me? I hope to hell Alberta’s missing review is in there.” He tipped his chin at the folder in front of Jack.

  “Still working on that, but I just got word from Anthony in Legal. They’re having a hard time getting the other side to the table. Neil plans to discuss it with you once he gets final word. I know you want to put this behind you as soon as feasibly possible, but that’s becoming less likely by the day.”

  “Why the fuck not?” These were exactly the kind of lawsuits litigants wanted to settle. The lawyers usually urged them to settle. The only variable was the amount, and he hadn’t made an offer yet. Their reluctance to come to the table didn’t make sense.

  “It sounds like the lead attorney wants to take it to court and let the jury decide. At least, that’s what he hinted at.”

  Nate sat abruptly back in his chair. “Why the hell would he want to do that? We haven’t gone through arbitration. We haven’t made an offer. He’s supposed to do what’s best for his clients. How does he know taking it to court is for the best? And who the fuck is this guy anyway?” He was going to need to talk to Legal himself and find out what the hell was going on.

  “Trevor Markham. He’s some hotshot Black civil rights attorney. Word is he has his sights on a political career and is more interested in building name recognition than this case. The quicker it’s settled, the faster the press coverage goes away. I say in the end, he’ll probably agree to arbitration, but not until after he enjoys time in the limelight.”

  “What fucking limelight?”

  “He’s taking a page out of your book and plans to hold a press conference once he can get more employees to join the suit. I heard he also plans to do the local TV news circuit with Alberta. So just as news coverage is fading, he’ll be going out there to push the lawsuit back in the spotlight. The guy’s fucking diabolical. He’s got the instincts of an ad man and a politician.”

  “Have you met him?” Nate asked.

  “No, but I’ve seen him. He’s young—early thirties—and everyone who’s met him says he’s the best in his field and smooth as fuck. Women seem to adore him and men—”

  Nate cut him off with an exasperated groan. “Don’t tell me. The men want to be him, or some shit like that.”

  “No, actually, I was going to say, the men want to beat the shit out of him because he’s a smug, self-serving prick.”

  Nate barked a laugh. “You sure you haven’t met the guy?”

  Jack grinned. “I’m paraphrasing. Those are Neil’s words. But I’m looking into him myself. It’s always good to know who we’re up against.”

  Neil D’Orazio, head of the legal team, didn’t mince words. If he said Markham was a prick, Nate would take him at his word.

  “Well, if he’s looking for a career in politics, he sounds like the right man for the job.”

  Wanted: smug, self-serving prick. The job description wrote itself.

  “So what do you want to do?” Jack asked, his expression sobering.

  “I’ve got to get my hands on Alberta’s performance review and I’m going to talk to Neil about setting up a meeting with me and Markham. If he’s as smart and ambitious as you say, I’m sure I can make him see reason.” The longer this lawsuit dragged out, the worse it would be for the company.

  Brow furrowed, Jack looked uneasy. “I don’t know, Nate. You may want to let the lawyers handle that.”

  “Don’t worry,” he assured his friend. “I’m not going to speak with him alone. I’ll make sure Neil is with me.”

  “Have you considered a scenario where the company is cleared by the investigation? What would you want to do then?”

  It was a fair question, but no matter what he wanted to believe, the company did have both a gender and racial problem in management. The numbers didn’t lie. He’d read the suit in its entirety and he had a hard time believing that all of the employees were exaggerating or making up the things they said occurred. Excuses of miscommunication and missing reviews didn’t sit well with him. No, somewhere along the way in trying to make the company both diverse and inclusive, he’d fallen short of that goal, and he intended to fix it. Settling before the investigation was completed was a small price to pay.

  “I’d like us to operate as if the outcome isn’t going to be favorable to us. In the meanwhile, I’d also like to meet with Alberta one-on-one. Do you think Neil can make that happen?” Her case really stuck in his craw, and since Duncan Flynn was still on his honeymoon and hadn’t returned repeated calls, talking directly with his former employee was his best bet.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea either,” Jack said, shielding his eyes with his hand from the slice of sun that broke through the sky bridge above. “Let it go through the lawyers, or the next thing you know, you’re being accused of intimidation or god knows what.”