“Who said anything about romance?” April snorted. “Sex for sex’s sake alone isn’t a bad thing.”

  “Says the only happily married mother at the table,” Sahara teased.

  April laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Says the woman who sexed it up with her husband before we started dating. I know of what I speak.”

  And Kennedy could certainly understand why. She’d Googled him after the launch party, and the wide receiver was hot with a capital H.

  “What’s the point of boxing yourself in?” Sahara asked, dipping a golden-fried coconut shrimp in the cocktail sauce. “What if your soul mate turns out to be someone famous? What if it’s Grant? Would you kick him to the curb just because of what he does for a living?”

  Aurora gave an exaggerated eye roll. “First, let’s get something straight. Grant Musgrove is not my soul mate. Second, not having sex with a man I don’t know and who has women constantly throwing themselves at him isn’t exactly a hardship. And for me, it’s not about looks and money. Being attractive is great and everything, but I need a man I can relate to. We have to have stuff in common. And let’s face it—in Hollywood, good-looking people are a dime a dozen, present company excluded. You, my dear, are one in a million,” Aurora said, blowing the singer a kiss.

  Sahara gave Aurora the side-eye. “Is that an Aaliyah reference?”

  “Sweetie, you got to let it go. If Aaliyah looked like a troll, I’d understand how that would be offensive. But she was gorgeous. Take it as a compliment,” April soothed.

  “How can I take it as a compliment when people think that’s the only reason I made it in the business? Do you know that ass Cyrus called me Baby Girl in an interview last week, and I’ve never wanted to smack someone so hard in my life.”

  Kennedy laughed, imagining the one-hundred-and-twenty-five-pound actress up against the music producer, who was almost double her size. She would pay for front-row tickets to see that. Sahara would destroy him.

  “Right, but that’s just human nature,” Aurora said. “People love drawing comparisons. How many times have we heard that some new artist is the next whoever? At one time, wasn’t Mariah Carey supposed to be the next Whitney Houston?”

  “Hell-o,” Sahara sang out, raising her hand. “Guess whose mother loved Whitney Houston so much she named her only daughter after her?”

  “And what a disappointment you turned out to be, becoming a famous singer, an Oscar-nominated actress, and creating your own clothing line instead of following after your namesake,” Kennedy lamented, tongue in cheek.

  Sahara smiled and fondly groused, “You are so extra.”

  “I don’t know how you manage it all,” April said. “Just keeping up with my son every day is a full-time job. I’m getting ready to switch him from half-day care to full days. No more of this take-your-son-to-work stuff when his dad is on the road.”

  Mention of her three-year-old son had Aurora demanding pictures. Ever the proud, doting mother, April immediately obliged. While her phone was being passed around to oohs and aahs over her adorable kid, Kennedy’s own phone dinged. She discreetly checked it, expecting to see a message from Nate, but to her surprise, it was from Julie.

  Julie: No baby. Got my period today. Taking tomorrow off. Going to bed now. ’Night.

  Kennedy immediately shot back a reply.

  Kennedy: Oh honey, I’m so sorry. It’ll happen when you least expect it. Never lose hope.

  “Is something wrong?” Aurora asked, watching her as April tucked her phone back in her handbag.

  Now Kennedy had everyone’s attention, Sahara and April also wearing similar expressions of concern.

  “One of our employees has been trying to get pregnant for over two years. Today, she told me she was going to buy a test on her way home because she was two weeks late.” Kennedy sighed. “She texted to let me know she just got her period, so of course, she’s absolutely crushed.”

  “Oh, poor thing,” Aurora whispered, her voice full of emotion. “I know how much she and Kwan want kids.”

  “Wow.” April’s eyes filled with compassion. “I got pregnant with our son almost as soon as we started trying. Sometimes I forget it’s not the same for everyone and that I’m one of the lucky ones.”

  “You have no idea how lucky.” There was unexpected vehemence to Sahara’s words. She then added more solemnly, “That could be me, what’s happening to her.”

  Alarmed, Kennedy froze midsip, slowly lowering her glass of brown cow to the table. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice hushed. “You don’t know if you’ll be able to have kids?”

  “Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Aurora asked, stricken.

  Sahara held up her hands to calm their escalating concerns. “No, I didn’t mean it to come out like that. I have endometriosis, which is a condition involving the uterus lining that might make it difficult for me to get pregnant. The longer I wait, the worse it could get. But don’t worry,” she said as their faces fell. “I have a backup plan. I had my eggs frozen four years ago, so if I run into problems, I can always do IVF.”

  Kennedy breathed a sigh of relief. “My aunt has endometriosis too. She had five kids in six years, all in her twenties. She said the pain during her period is unreal. Like bring-you-to-your-knees kind of pain.”

  “She’s not kidding. When I was in my teens, sometimes it was so bad, I had to miss school. After all I’ve gone through, labor might not be that bad.”

  Sahara’s remark elicited a derisive snort from her designer. “That may be taking things a little too far. I was in labor for twenty-three hours. You want to talk about pain. Oh my god, I squeezed Troy’s hand so tight, he swears I cut off his circulation. Labor is no joke.”

  “Well, it’s good you have options.” Kennedy was impressed with her maturity and foresight. From what Kennedy knew about egg retrieval, it was like going through the IVF process, which was no walk in the park.

  “I’m just glad I don’t have to rush the process. I’d really like to have my acting career fully established before I take time off for a husband and kids, you know?”

  “Of course,” Aurora said sympathetically.

  “And you’re well on your way,” Kennedy said. “You’re known as much for your acting as your music these days.” And that was the God’s honest truth. Sahara’s acting career was on fire. Casting directors loved her because she was gorgeous and had a versatile look, directors loved that she was a natural and eager to learn, and her costars loved that she was easy to get along with on and off the set.

  “I hope so. What about you?” Sahara directed her question to Kennedy. “How are things going with the hunky Mr. Vaughn?”

  “Mr. Vaughn?” April asked, looking at Aurora. “Any relation, by chance?”

  “Oh, that’s right, you don’t know. Kennedy is going out with Aurora’s brother. The one who owns the tech company.” Sahara quickly caught her designer up on the goings-on. They then turned their gazes to Aurora.

  “Why are you looking at me?” Aurora appeared mildly amused by the expectant expressions on their faces. “I have no problem with it. I received assurances that no matter what happens between them, Ken and I will always be friends, and since my parents would be royally pissed if I disowned their son, I’m pretty much stuck.”

  “Is that the best you could do? Couldn’t you find another young, good-looking billionaire to date who wasn’t related to your best friend?” April was all smiles and tongue-in-cheek humor.

  “Yeah, but why keep looking if you’ve already found The One, right, Ken?” Sahara sent her a wink.

  “No one said anything about anyone being The One.” He definitely felt like The One in bed, if that counted for anything. “We’re dating and having fun. That’s it,” she said, deliberately downplaying the relationship. No need to raise expectations or get their hopes up. Whatever happened would happen, all in good time.

  “Right, but you know what they say,” Sahara said with a smirk.

  Kennedy almost hated to ask, but it wasn’t as if she had a choice. “Actually, I don’t. What do they say?”

  “That it’s all fun and games until it’s not.”

  Sahara may not have meant it as a warning, but Kennedy would have been better served if she’d taken it as one.

  * * *

  “Okay, tonight, no dining out, takeout, Uber Eats, or anything like that. Tonight, yours truly is going to cook for you.” Kennedy turned and beamed a smile at Nate as she closed the door to his industrial-sized refrigerator.

  She considered herself a fairly good cook but didn’t usually have a gourmet kitchen to showcase her talents in, except when she cooked at Aurora’s, which wasn’t often. The sheer counter space alone was making her giddy.

  Smirking, Nate leaned against the counter, looking deliciously casual in low-hanging blue sweats and a graphic tee. “Oh, you can cook? Why haven’t I ever seen evidence of that?”

  Her finger encountered only smooth muscled abs when she laughed and poked him. Thwarted, Kennedy wrinkled her nose. “Because you weren’t worthy of it before. Not even sure you’ve proved yourself worthy of it now. You’re lucky I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt.”

  In response, he abruptly tugged her into his arms and kissed her soundly on the lips. But what started as teasing turned hot within seconds. Because that was how it was with them. Their compatibility in bed was like nothing she’d ever experienced before, and the sex seemed to get better the more they engaged. Since her night out with the girls three weeks ago, she’d spent every weekend at his apartment and at least one day during the week. Things were going so well, she was giving serious thought to getting another Waterpik to leave there.

  Hey, a girl is allowed to splurge every now and then.

  Before things got out of control—she’d learned from experience how easily that could happen—Kennedy pressed firmly on his shoulders, reluctantly ending the kiss. “How am I going to cook if you keep doing that?” Her breathing wasn’t quite steady.

  “I’m just following directions.” He stared pointedly at a pair of red lips and the KISS THE COOK emblazoned on the front of the apron she wore over a red T-shirt and black yoga pants.

  Emitting a murmured sound that was both amusement and desire, Kennedy palmed his cheek that sported a sexy five-o’clock shadow. “I promise, we’ll get back to this after dinner.”

  Nate’s blue eyes smoldered, his voice dropping a suggestive octave. “Dessert?”

  “Have I ever sent you to bed without?”

  “It’s in bed that you give it to me.”

  Kennedy laughingly shooed him away. “Out. I can’t concentrate when you’re this close.” Although, it was less a lack of concentration than it was he couldn’t seem to be within touching distance without needing to have his hands all over her. She didn’t exactly have a problem with it, but there were times when she had to get something done that didn’t require her hands being on him in return.

  When he refused to budge, Kennedy threw up her hands. “If you insist on hovering, do it over there.” She pointed to a row of stools on the other side of the large granite island.

  “Okay, I’ll be good,” he promised and then squeezed her left butt cheek, eliciting a surprised yelp from her and a light whack on his arm. Chuckling, Nate reluctantly did as instructed and moved his fine self out of arm’s reach.

  “So whatcha feeding me?” he asked, watching as she began seasoning the chicken.

  “Chicken curry and roti.”

  Nate licked his lips. “I like curry with chicken, but you’re going to have to tell me what roti is.”

  “Think of it as a fluffier, flaky version of a flour tortilla.” Kennedy had been getting this question almost her entire life and had learned that comparison was easiest to understand and came closest to the truth.

  Nate was a world traveler. She figured he’d be up for trying something new, even though she considered roti fairly run-of-the-mill when it came to West Indian cuisine. It was the spicy chicken curry that made the meal.

  “Sounds good. Which one are you making first?”

  “I’m only making the curry. The roti is pretty time-consuming, so I buy it at a Guyanese restaurant in Brooklyn that makes it even better than my mom. And if you ever tell her I said that, you’ll never see me naked again,” she warned, pausing to point the shaker of salt at him.

  Her lover’s gaze became hooded as he slowly perused every part of her body visible to him, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Then I didn’t hear a word you just said.”

  While they shared a conspiratorial smile that promised tangled sheets and entwined naked bodies in the not-so-distant future, the temperature in the room started to climb. But if they left the kitchen to get out of the heat, they’d be heading straight to the bedroom where it would be even hotter.

  The ringing of the doorbell brought Kennedy back to earth with a start. Tearing his gaze from her, Nate reached for his phone. The doorman called or sent a message via the building app to let him know when someone was on their way up.

  “Is it Ror?” she asked.

  “I didn’t get a message, but it has to be someone I know.” Placing the phone back on the counter, he slid off the stool and made his way to the front door.

  Kennedy kept her ears perked as she grabbed several spoons from the drawer. If not Aurora, then who? Not that he didn’t have friends here; she knew he did. But in all the time they’d been spending together, he rarely mentioned anyone outside of work. No one visited when she was here, and as far as she could tell, no one did when she wasn’t.

  Curiosity and not nosiness had her edging closer to the front entrance—as close as she could get without leaving the kitchen. She heard the door open and nothing else. Were they whispering? Did Nate not want his visitor to know she was here?

  Soon she heard the murmur of male voices, alleviating a bit of her apprehension. It wasn’t a woman. Not an old girlfriend who heard he was back in town. But even if it were, it shouldn’t be a big deal. Because of course Nate had women in his past, just as she had men in her past. As quietly as possible, Kennedy scampered back to finish seasoning the chicken.

  “Yeah, but it’s time I got an official introduction,” was the only thing she heard right before Nate and his male visitor came into view.

  She instantly recognized Constellation’s CTO. His hair was shorter, and in blue jeans and a dark green Henley, he looked younger than when she’d met him at the press conference two months ago. But that usually happened when you took people out of their workplace setting—five years of stress instantly melted away.

  “Look who stopped by,” Nate announced upon his return, his friend a step behind him. “Kennedy, you remember Jack, don’t you?”

  Kennedy hastily wiped her hands on a dish towel before offering it to Jack with a teasing smile. “How could I forget the person who egged me on at your press conference, and urged me to defend you?” One thing had become clear over the last few months: the men weren’t as close as they had been growing up and in college. Nate never talked about him—at least, not to her.

  “It’s lovely seeing you again,” Jack said, studying her, his handshake perhaps a beat or two on the long side.

  “What do you mean he egged you on to defend me?” Nate may have posed the question to her, but he was looking at his friend.

  “When the reporter said that stuff about the lack of diversity in your personal relationships, Jack encouraged me to defend your honor, in a manner of speaking.” She didn’t include that Jack had hightailed it out of there soon after.

  Nate arched a brow. “Really? I don’t remember you telling me that.”

  “Somebody needed to defend you, and since Kennedy was already on a roll...” Jack shrugged, unabashed. “Besides, how would it have looked if I’d added my two cents? As far as the reporter was concerned, I was part of the problem.”

  Kennedy preferred not to think back on the event that resulted in their arrangement. Although, as silver linings went, as it was a big part of the reason she and Nate were now together, they’d achieved a pretty good one. And now with settlement rumors being bandied about, Kennedy was convinced the company’s reputation would soon be on the rehabilitation fast track, and six months from now, Nate’s halo would be fully restored above his saintly head.

  “For all intents and purposes,” Jack continued, looking directly at her, “I think things worked out well. The lawsuit brought Nate back home, so you can’t say it’s all been bad. And now that the two of you are a couple, even that has faded from the news. The stock has fully rebounded from its five percent drop, and from what I can see, the company’s reputation is on the mend.”

  “Don’t go claiming victory just yet. We’re not entirely in the clear,” Nate cautioned.

  “Ah, come on. I think you can both claim some victory.” Jack’s gaze made a general sweep of the kitchen and the family room beyond. The next statement he directed at Kennedy. “I’d say you’re doing well for yourself. The way the situation with the presser was resolved was a master class in crisis management. And that kind of exposure can only be good for your agency.”

  “The agency does well enough on its own. If anything, that kind of exposure makes attracting new business harder, not easier,” Nate said, taking exception to the wrong part of his friend’s remark.

  I’d say you’re doing well for yourself? Kennedy was still stinging from the oh-so-clever dig. How the hell had Nate missed it? Jack hadn’t meant it as a compliment. Not a word of it. And he was making his disapproval of her known in clear but subtle ways. For those paying attention.

  Kennedy sprinkled paprika on the chicken. Well, this sucked. Her boyfriends’ friends usually liked her. Some a tad too much. But then, all her ex-boyfriends didn’t have net worths in the millions, much less billions, and they didn’t have Nate’s background.