Kennedy bit her bottom lip. She’d seen him naked and that was reason enough.

  A movement at her door drew her attention to Mina, who stood on the threshold, a frantic look on her face.

  Oh shit. “Listen, Nate. I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later. Have fun tonight,” she said and hastily got off the phone.

  “We have a problem,” Mina stated, giving voice to her expression.

  “Who is it?” Kennedy steeled herself as a half dozen possibilities ran through her head.

  “Roger’s personal email was part of the hack, and apparently, there’s more to the original video than what the public saw, and none of it’s good.”

  Kennedy froze, air escaping her lips in a rush. Her shoulders slumped as she covered her face with her hands. “Oh crap.” After a moment, she peeked at Mina from between her fingers. “How not good is it?”

  Mina made the yikes emoji face. “I sent you a link to the video. It’s already gone viral. I’m sure you’ll be getting a call from his management any minute now.”

  “Okay, thanks for the heads-up,” Kennedy said. Turning to her computer, she tapped her finger on the keyboard, opened the email in question, and watched.

  She watched it two more times after that.

  Okay, then. She closed the browser.

  After his injurious and injudicious use of the N-word, her lovely client had gone on to make his displeasure known at the attempts being made to change the names of sports teams derogatory to Native Americans. Shockingly enough, he didn’t find the names offensive. Kennedy was sure Cecelia’s Cherokee ancestors had something to say about that.

  Hell, Kennedy had something to say about that.

  The video had only gotten better when his friend Weston had started them down the road leading straight to #MeToo hell. His opinion of what should be considered sexual harassment and assault should have him locked in #MeToo prison until he learned the meaning of consent. That the word no didn’t mean try and change my mind. Roger’s noncommittal grunts probably saved him from a life in hiding, but his friend wouldn’t be spared the pitchforks coming for him. But then again, there was the matter of guilt by association, so Roger’s relative silence on the subject didn’t necessarily put him in the clear.

  But Roger’s most egregious crime came with his enlightened commentary on all the recent protests and marches: civil rights, police brutality, women’s rights, transgender rights, gay rights, voting rights, abortion rights, et cetera, et cetera. To that, he’d said, Jesus Christ, people need to lighten the fuck up. Go live somewhere else if they don’t like it here.

  Kennedy inhaled deeply through her nose. She felt a migraine coming on, and she’d never had one in her life.

  Roger was well and truly fucked.

  Her office phone rang then, and the caller ID indicated it was exactly who she’d expected to call, the team’s head of PR.

  Kennedy spent the next fifteen minutes agreeing with Louis, that yes, the hack was reprehensible. But it didn’t matter now that his comments were public. He would be judged by them, and not favorably. Even the people who privately agreed with him, none of them would stick their necks on the chopping block to defend him.

  Since Roger was already working with the diversity outreach program, and his former neighbors had already lent their support the first time around, there wasn’t much else she could do for him. Truth be told, there wasn’t much she wanted to do for him. The idiot had managed to cast his insult net wider than before. At this rate, he was going to send his poor mother into witness protection. From shame.

  She’d barely hung up with Louis when her cell phone rang. Kennedy looked down at her screen to see it was the now twice-disgraced hockey player himself.

  Snatching it up, she practically stabbed at the screen. “You lied to me,” she said, her tone flat and anger threading her voice.

  “No, no, no. I swear I didn’t lie to you.” He sounded panicked. And as well he should.

  “I asked you if there was anything else—”

  “And there wasn’t anything else. This was from the same day, and I didn’t even realize the fu—the video uploaded to the cloud automatically. I thought it was deleted everywhere.”

  “But you knew you said those things when we talked.”

  “Oh, come on, Kennedy. Did you expect me to tell you? I was ashamed enough as it was. And I knew if I told you, you’d—” He broke off and emitted a heavy sigh.

  “I’d what?” she snapped, her patience with him already threadbare and that little bit was quickly fraying.

  “That you’d look at me different. That you might not want to help me. I didn’t want you to think I was some bigoted dipshit.”

  Suddenly weary, Kennedy closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. Bone-deep tired of it all. “Are you a bigoted dipshit?”

  “I’m beginning to think so,” he admitted grimly. “I didn’t know what the fuck I was talking about. Obviously. Working with the kids at the program is showing me that. You want to talk about toughness and resilience?” he huffed. “Most of those kids have more at their age than I will in my whole life.”

  “That’s because they have to. They aren’t given a choice. They either toughen up or the world around them will eat them alive.”

  “Yeah, but they shouldn’t have to.”

  “No, they shouldn’t, but this is life, and life isn’t always fair. Actually, life is usually never fair.”

  Roger snorted. “I guess that means I’m going to get what’s coming to me. No more hockey, no more endorsements. There’s no coming back from this, is there? Everyone hates me now. My mother was at a march last week. She said she can’t believe I’m her son.”

  As livid as she had been when she’d heard the video, Kennedy found it impossible to hold on to her anger. That kind of toxicity had a habit of eating a person alive, and in her line of work, she couldn’t afford to allow it safe harbor. Especially now she realized she was more disappointed than anything else. She liked Roger. She’d believed in him. In his innate goodness. Did that make her a putz? A bad judge of character? She sure hoped not. Because, despite everything, she believed he was being sincere now.

  “Maybe the endorsements are gone for good, but I think if you go out there and talk to the public like you’re talking to me, there’s a good chance your hockey career can survive this.”

  “So tell them the truth is what you’re saying.” He sounded as if he’d rather claim his body had been taken over by an alien. Truth as a strategy might not be up to the heavy lift of resurrecting a reputation currently on life support.

  “At this point, it’s all you have.”

  * * *

  It was almost eight when Kennedy left the office. The entire media ecosystem was on a sugar high. The nonstop coverage of the hacking story was coming at breakneck speed. Prime-time anchors were back behind their desks—no doubt for all-nighters—in the name of special reporting for the extended coverage. One would think a passenger plane had disappeared over the Atlantic Ocean.

  She called Aurora for the third time in as many hours, hoping she would pick up this time. But once again, the call went straight to voice mail. After Kennedy hung up—this time without leaving a message—she debated what to do next. Nate was out with Jack, and she didn’t want to bother him. But she couldn’t go home until she got in touch with her friend. She hadn’t seen Aurora since she’d ducked out of the office at two that afternoon, announcing she had an appointment with a client downtown and from there would be going straight home. The meeting should have ended hours ago.

  Then why isn’t she answering her phone?

  It was the lack of answers to that question that had Kennedy fretting. To calm her fears, she took an Uber to her friend’s brownstone, which was a short fifteen-minute ride.

  Standing at the front door, Kennedy rang the bell and waited. The curtains were drawn, so she couldn’t see in. When she couldn’t hear anyone moving around, she fished the spare key Aurora had given her out of her handbag and let herself in.

  “Anyone home?” she called into the darkened entryway. “Ror?” She closed and locked the door behind her, before turning on the light and venturing down the hall into the open space between the living room and the kitchen.

  The faint sound of movement in the direction of the bedrooms piqued her ears. “Ror, is that you?”

  More silence.

  Shit, what if someone else was there—robbing the place? Clutching her handbag tightly in front of her, Kennedy glanced around. She needed a weapon just in case. Her gaze caught sight of the butcher block of knives.

  A loud thud drew a startled scream from her throat. Her flight instinct warred with the one telling her to grab one of the knives and fight. Preferably, the one with the biggest and sharpest blade and sturdiest handle.

  Before she could do either, one of the bedroom doors opened and light flooded the hallway. Aurora, clad in a short hot-pink robe, emerged breathless and disheveled. Seriously, her hair was a tangled blond wreck.

  Relief nearly sent Kennedy to the floor in a faint. “You’re home. I’ve been calling you for hours and it kept going straight to voice mail. I came by to check and make sure you’re okay.” She gestured toward the door. “I rang the doorbell and no one answered, so I let myself in.”

  Aurora had yet to say a word, her blue eyes luminescent and heightened color in her cheeks. She had a death grip on the front of her robe as she held it closed, the sash dangling at her sides.

  “Ror, what’s going on?” Kennedy shot a look behind her and realization finally dawned. “Oh my god, I interrupted something, didn’t I?” Pointing at her friend’s closed bedroom door, she exclaimed in a hushed whisper, “Oh my god, you’re seeing someone. Who is it?”

  At having established that her friend was safe and sound, perhaps another friend would have tiptoed quietly away. After all, a girl did need her privacy. But that wasn’t their friendship. Had the situation been reversed, you wouldn’t have been able to drag Aurora out of there without demanding to know the identity of the mystery man. Keeping the identity of a lover a secret was only condoned when it was your friend’s brother. And Kennedy knew with a 99 percent certainty that neither of her brothers was behind the bedroom door.

  Guiltily, Aurora followed the direction of her gaze, shooting a quick look over her shoulder. “He’s not—We’re not—We were just—It’s not what—” Her response sputtered along before dying like a defunct car engine.

  Kennedy decided to put her out of the misery that reduced her friend to marginal coherency, calling out to whoever was hiding in her room. “You may as well come out because I’m not leaving until you do. I’m Aurora’s best friend, so we’re bound to meet sooner or later. As we’re both already here, now works.”

  The answer to her summons came at the opening of the bedroom door and a man slowly emerging into the lit hall.

  Kennedy’s lips parted on a gasp. Well, knock me over with a feather.

  “Lieutenant Governor,” she whispered by way of acknowledgment rather than greeting.

  She hadn’t met him in person, but she’d seen him on TV a bunch of times. She’d certainly never seen him like this, his shirt three-quarters buttoned and untucked from a slightly wrinkled pair of tan slacks, his feet bare, and his hair appearing finger combed.

  Memories started running through her mind like clips from a movie: the new spring in Aurora’s step, the flirtier way she’d been dressing lately, and how close she’d recently gotten to Adam Faulkner’s daughter. It all made sense now.

  She’s screwing the guy.

  His gaze flicked to Aurora before meeting Kennedy’s, his expression guarded. “I know how this looks.”

  “It looks like you’re sleeping with my friend. Does that about cover it, or is there more?”

  “Ken, we aren’t doing anything wrong,” Aurora interjected. “We’re both consenting adults.”

  “Ror, he’s a former client. A paying client,” she stressed. “And he’s the lieutenant-fricking-governor!” The former should have made him off-limits, and the latter, kryptonite. Getting involved with a politician was like allowing yourself to be tied to a railroad track. It was just a matter of time until you got run over.

  Adam Faulkner sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, which was thick, dark brown, and, surprisingly, without a hint of gray. He probably colored it, the vain bastard. “Believe me, I’m well aware of that,” he muttered.

  And yet he still chose to sleep with her, selfish bastard.

  Aurora swiftly closed the small distance between them and ran her hand up and down his arm. A gesture so familiar and lover-like, it caused Kennedy’s heart to ache, because she knew he was the train that was going to run her best friend over.

  “You’re not a client now, and that’s what’s most important,” Aurora soothed, staring lovingly up into his eyes. Then she turned and addressed Kennedy. “I know what I’m doing.”

  Kennedy got it. She did. She completely understood how her friend could fall for a man like him. He was very attractive, not that old—she’d learned that forty-one became less old once you were on the precipice of thirty—and kept himself in shape enough to be featured on the cover of Men’s Fitness last year. He was the whole political package, good looks, intelligence, pragmatism, empathy, and an abundance of charm, which was how he’d won his last election by over twenty points.

  But he was a widower with a nineteen-year-old daughter. And he was a politician! That alone should have been enough to send Aurora running for the exits and then the hills...in Switzerland. How could she swear off celebrities and become involved with a man in politics, a necessary evil (although some would strenuously disagree on the necessary part) but as dirty and seedy a business as there ever was?

  “I should get going,” he said, giving Aurora’s hand a squeeze.

  “Come on. I’ll see you out,” her friend said softly, sending a pointed we’ll discuss your unwanted interference into my love life when we’re alone look at Kennedy.

  Kennedy prepared herself for the coming confrontation. Although, after the day she was having, the last thing she wanted was to fight with her best friend, especially because of a man.

  It didn’t take long for the lovers to say their goodbyes. Robe now tightly belted around her slender waist, Aurora crossed her arms over her chest as they stood facing each other. “I know what you’re going to say, but you’ll be wasting your breath. I’m in love with him. I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. And he’s not a client anymore. I wouldn’t have slept with him if he were.”

  Kennedy let out a mirthless laugh. She hated playing the heavy, but someone had to. “Oh, come on, Ror. You’ve been falling for the man probably since you first met him. Isn’t that why you’re so chummy with his daughter? Just because you two only recently started having sex doesn’t mean a whole lot of emotional boundaries hadn’t already been crossed.” She should have suspected something was up when Aurora brought Brittany to the launch party. That should have been the tip-off.

  Running her palm over her tangled hair, Aurora briefly averted her gaze. She knew. She knew becoming involved with Adam Faulkner was a disaster waiting to happen. “Ken, what am I supposed to do?” Her eyes implored. “I’m in love with him and that’s not something you can just turn off.”

  With one step, Kennedy pulled her into her arms. “Oh, sweetie, I know. If only our hearts didn’t have minds of their own, our love lives would be ten times easier to manage, and relationships would be a walk in the park.”

  Aurora returned her embrace. “Under different circumstances, I really think you’d like him. More than that, I think you two would really get along. He’s the kind of man you’ve always admired. He has all those qualities.”

  Gripping Aurora by the shoulders, Kennedy gently set her back and looked her in the eye. “Ror, he’s in politics. You refuse to date anyone connected to anything celebrity related, yet here you are with the highest-profile politician in New York, who was cleared of bribery charges a year ago.”

  “Exactly.” Aurora nodded fervently in agreement. “Which only goes to prove my point. Do you think that I would put myself in this situation on purpose? Don’t you think I tried my hardest to run from it? Ken, you know me. The last thing I wanted was to fall in love with Adam. You have no idea how hard I fought it.”

  Taking in Aurora’s pained expression, Kennedy was overcome with compassion. Actually, she did have an idea. How many years had she fought her feelings for Nate? Too many. And where had it gotten her in the end? She was in deeper than she’d ever been.

  “Does he love you?”

  The vulnerability in Aurora’s big blue eyes as her shoulders rose and fell in a helpless shrug tore at Kennedy’s heart. “I don’t know. He hasn’t said the words, but I know he cares about me a lot.”

  “Do you want a future with him?” Would you be happy being a politician’s wife?

  Another shrug. “I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell, but I want to see where it goes.”

  Kennedy wasn’t fooled by her friend’s sudden flash of sangfroid. They were the same age, on the cusp of three decades’ worth of living. Nowhere close to old but not twenty-one either. She couldn’t see Aurora taking a wait-and-see approach with a man she’d rearranged her professional ethics to be with. The man she now professed to love. Of course she wanted a future with him. That she wouldn’t come right out and admit it spoke volumes. Her friend was in over her head. Just how far was the question.

  “What does he want?”

  The question elicited a soft blush, and a starry-eyed smile stole over Aurora’s face. “Me. He wants me.”

  Kennedy gave her another hug and tried to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

  22