Or so Kennedy thought, up until the moment her friend walked into the break room while she was pouring herself a second cup of coffee. It was nine o’clock.

  Actually, tiptoed in more accurately described the way Aurora approached, her blue eyes wary.

  Clearing her throat, she stated softly, “I spoke to Nate.”

  That, Kennedy had surmised the second she saw her face.

  “I didn’t know at the beginning, Ken. Nate told me he heard about the scholarship from someone who worked at Columbia, and that you immediately came to mind. He said you met all the criteria.” Aurora took a step closer, bringing them within a foot of each other. “I was so excited, I didn’t think there was anything odd about it. It was his alma mater. I figured he had the inside track on things like that. And then when you got it, the only thing that mattered to me was that we’d be going to school together, and I’d be rooming with my best friend.”

  Aurora began fidgeting, rubbing her palms up and down her outer thighs.

  Lifting the cup to her mouth, Kennedy blew lightly on the hot liquid. “So when did you know?”

  “When we applied for the master’s program,” her friend said before pausing when Julie walked past the open door. As soon as the sound of clicking heels faded down the hallway, she continued. “This time, when Nate said he’d heard about another scholarship that would cover it, I finally wised up. It was just a little too coincidental to be believable a second time. When I pressed him on it, and kept pressing, he finally told me the truth. I wanted to tell you, Ken, but he begged me not to. He said if I did, you’d refuse it. And the thing is, I knew he was right, so I kept my mouth shut.”

  Kennedy took a sip of the coffee. She should have stopped by Starbucks and gotten a caramel macchiato Frappuccino, but she hadn’t been in the mood—or had the patience—to wait in a line this morning.

  “I’m sorry, Ken,” Aurora said, managing to look both miserable and contrite. “Are you mad at me? I couldn’t stand it if this ruined our friendship.”

  “I was at first, and I was going to call you last night when I got home, but I couldn’t handle the thought of another argument. Then this morning I realized that no matter what or when you knew, I can’t in good conscience hold you responsible for something your brother did. Plus, he’s your brother, so of course when he asked you not to tell me, what choice did you have?” Kennedy shrugged. “He’s your brother. He’s blood.”

  “Yes, but you’re the closest thing to a sister I’ve ever had, and I love you like one, and I don’t want to lose you.”

  Kennedy’s heart immediately softened. Aurora didn’t apologize fairly, making it impossible to stay mad at her for long. “Damn you. I love you too,” she grumbled, suppressing a smile. “I’m not saying you’re out of the woods yet, just that I understand the position he put you in.”

  A hundred-watt smile lit Aurora’s face. She waited a beat before inquiring tentatively, “What about Nate? Will you be able to forgive him?”

  Kennedy’s lips tightened. “I don’t know. I’m sure I will...eventually. But where we go from there, I don’t know,” she said, sighing. “What about you? How are you doing? I thought we agreed you were going to take a couple days off.”

  A shadow of pain flashed across Aurora’s face. “Sitting at home alone only makes it worse. And anyway, Justine Ingram called. She’s concerned I may not be able to represent her the way I should because of the crap in the email. It took me a bit to convince her the scandal hasn’t affected my competency or commitment. I also promised to keep the lowest of low profiles and work strictly behind the scenes. She finally agreed to that.”

  Kennedy vacillated between relief and frustration. It wasn’t fair. None of it was. Not to her and certainly not to Aurora. Then why were they paying the price for what Phil and Sam had done?

  Earth to Kennedy. Life isn’t fair. Never ever forget that.

  After informing Aurora about the casualties the agency had suffered just that morning, she said, “At this point, I’ll be happy if we’re able to keep your accounts. The diversity and inclusivity part of the business is taking a hit, and lord knows how long it will continue. I’m being told the attention on me in particular is too much of a distraction.”

  “If we lose a few clients, we lose a few clients. We’ll be fine,” Aurora said with the confidence of a woman whose financial status had always been and would always be secure. She wouldn’t let the agency fail because she could afford not to. She had money in reserve, and her brother was Zuckerberg rich. Kennedy, on the other hand...

  “If I’m going to be detrimental to the agency, I’ll walk away. I refuse to drag you down with me.”

  “I’m not even trying to hear that,” her friend stated adamantly, shaking her head. “We started this together—hell, it was your genius that came up with it—and that’s the way it’ll end, which won’t be for a very long time.”

  Kennedy didn’t want to argue with her, so she wisely kept her thoughts to herself. But in the end, she’d do what she had to. She already owed Nate too much.

  Nate. Her heart squeezed just thinking about him.

  Turning, she set her half-filled cup down on the counter behind her. And it wasn’t just about the scholarship. The way he’d reacted when she’d brought up Jack had landed like the proverbial gut punch, and she was still reeling from the pain of it.

  Stop looking for enemies in every corner.

  But it had been the wake-up call she’d needed. She might not know a lot of things, but she sure as hell knew when she was being condescended to.

  “How well do you know Jack?” Kennedy asked.

  Aurora looked at her curiously, clearly surprised by the question. “Jack Walters?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve known Jack since grade school. He’s a sweetheart, which is amazing, considering his parents.”

  Wonderful. Saint Jack strikes again.

  “Why’re you asking? Don’t you like him?”

  Instead of sidestepping the question, Kennedy decided to be honest. “Actually, I don’t think he particularly likes me. At least, not for Nate.”

  Aurora’s brows gathered above the bridge of her nose. “Really? What did he say? Because that doesn’t sound like Jack.”

  “You know what? Never mind. I’m probably being too sensitive.”

  She was not being too sensitive, but she didn’t want to have this fight again. Apparently, the guy walked on water to every member of the Vaughn family, and budging him off his pedestal wasn’t a task she wanted to take on.

  “About Nate,” Aurora said, bringing the subject back to her beloved older brother. “He means well and I know he really cares about you.”

  Unfortunately, sometimes meaning well wasn’t good enough. After all, the road to hell was often paved with good intentions. At least, that was what someone who must know hell better than her had once said.

  “Um, Kennedy.”

  Kennedy turned to find Jonathan hovering in the open door. “Joseph Russo is returning your call.”

  She huffed in annoyance. It was about time. For a while there, she’d thought he’d ghosted her. In her experience, people in his situation were eager to clear their name and would have called her back the same day she called.

  “We’ll talk later,” Kennedy said, lightly touching Aurora’s arm before hurrying to her office.

  Once there, she sat down and snatched up her phone. “Good morning, Mr. Russo. It was nice of you to return my call.” She wondered if he picked up on the sarcasm in her voice.

  “I hope you called with good news,” he said, as if he had no idea what she could be calling him about.

  “Sorry to disappoint you, but it’s quite the opposite. In speaking with your HR department, there’s no trace of the young man you told me about, and no one we spoke to remembers anyone like him. Also, Ms. Montgomery denies she colored her hair, and we can’t find anyone or anything like a picture to prove otherwise.”

  Kennedy expected him to reassert his claims and perhaps offer an explanation. Give her something more to work with. What she got was lengthening silence. It went on so long, she was compelled to ask, “Mr. Russo, did you hear what I said?” Did he have hearing problems they hadn’t told her about? They’d met in person the last time, which would have made it easier to read her lips.

  “Yes, I heard you. You can’t find the young man or a picture of Miss Montgomery with her hair dyed.” He paused before asking, his tone objectively mild-mannered, “Isn’t it your job to do whatever needs to be done to make my story fit what I told you?”

  Of all the things she’d been asked to do in her professional career, this one took the cake. So much so she ran the question over in her mind several times, isolating every word to make sure she wasn’t mistaking their meaning or context.

  “Are you saying you made him up? That Alexis Montgomery didn’t have her hair dyed when she came to work that day?” Her voice was hushed, her tone appalled.

  “I’m fighting to get my job back and you’re being paid to help me. Hire whoever you need to back up my story. Do that thing they do with photos to color Miss Montgomery’s hair.” No denials, no nothing. He sounded as if he were making a logical request.

  Dazed, Kennedy shook her head. The man was off his rocker if he thought this would work. “Th-that’s impossible. She’d be able to prove you’re lying.”

  “Oh, come on. I’m sure you’ve done this kind of thing before,” he openly scoffed.

  She had, but not like this. Never to impugn an innocent victim’s integrity. What he was asking was libelous, which was a crime.

  Good lord, we do have standards.

  Although, perhaps they weren’t high enough, if he thought her capable of this.

  “It would be her word against mine.”

  The gall of the man.

  “No, Mr. Russo, it would be your word against hers and a number of other people who could back up her story. And do you truly believe the station will allow you to make up an employee out of whole cloth without someone coming forward to dispute the person ever worked there or, if he did, would be able to disprove he came to work with his hair dyed as you said?”

  Joseph Russo made a gruff sound in his throat. “What if I told you that I have someone who is willing to say she came to work that day with her hair dyed?”

  “I’d say you’re barking up the wrong tree. And if you do that, I’ll be forced to tell the public what we found. I am not going to be a party to this. My primary goal is to help diversify the workplace, not help men like you escape the consequences of your actions,” she stated indignantly but with a self-righteousness that was starting to ring a tad hollow.

  “Funny, I was told you did exactly that,” he replied, a hint of derision in his tone.

  Flinching, Kennedy felt more than a prick of conscience. It was a stab by a knife with a sharp, unforgiving blade. “If that’s the reason the station hired me, they were misinformed, and I’ll be more than happy to let them know.”

  Fifteen minutes later, she did just that, severing the contract under the never-before-utilized morality clause. After she hung up the phone, she stared sightlessly ahead, her mind in turmoil, before burying her face in her hands.

  * * *

  Hours after Kennedy left his apartment, Nate had called her. When she didn’t answer, he’d left a voice mail. When she didn’t return his call, he’d texted her. Several times. She’d eventually responded via text and asked him to give her time, the request terse and simply worded. He’d reluctantly agreed, and in the following days he couldn’t get what she’d said out of his mind. He’d lost sleep over it.

  Her accusations about Jack ate away at him. The idea that his friend had anything to do with the lawsuit was laughable. He wasn’t like that. He’d been with Nate every step of the way when it came to the programs and the diversity goals he’d set for the company. He’d been one of its staunchest supporters.

  But Nate couldn’t dismiss Kennedy’s feelings. And he cringed every time he thought about accusing her of seeing enemies in every corner. She was the furthest thing from being oversensitive. That wasn’t her. In all the years he’d known her, she’d accepted her lot in life with a smile and a steely determination to change the status quo. To make things better for the underdog and the underrepresented, and she’d set out to do it without the billions he had at his disposal. Though some might question her methods, what they couldn’t question were her results. She was changing the demographic makeup of companies in New York City one company at a time.

  What if he was wrong and she was right? Had his friendship with Jack blinded him to what was right in front of his face? Was the company being sued because of something in his leadership? A culture he’d contributed to? As much as trusting his gut usually served Nate well, the grievances expressed in the lawsuit had occurred over the course of years, not weeks or months. Which meant somewhere along the line, he’d either dropped the ball or taken his eye off it. Contrary to widespread belief within the industry, his instincts weren’t infallible.

  Picking up his phone, he called the one person he hoped could help him get to the bottom of things once and for all.

  A smiling and tanned Duncan Flynn arrived five minutes later. Marriage appeared to be treating him well. He looked younger and trimmer than the last time Nate saw him.

  “Welcome back, Nate. It’s been a while,” Duncan said with genuine warmth.

  “Hi, Duncan. Thanks for making time for me.” Nate motioned for him to take a seat.

  “Pfft! I always have time for the guy who signs my checks,” his employee joked, reclining comfortably in the high-backed chair.

  Nate offered a tight smile. “I wanted to talk to you about Alberta. I know you told Jack you didn’t promise her the project manager position during her last review, but that seems to be contradicted by the copy that’s turned up.” He treated Duncan to a level stare and prayed his gamble would pay off. This was literally all he could come up with to prove or disprove his hunch.

  His project director’s eyes flashed with alarm as his entire demeanor underwent a dramatic change. He sat up straight, one hand white knuckling the arm of the chair, proof that Nate had hit a nerve.

  “And before you say anything, think very hard about how you want this to go. Your job is on the line, so don’t lie to me.”

  Duncan opened his mouth several times before sound finally emerged. “Jack told me there was a misunderstanding about the position, and he decided not to fill it. Next thing I know, Regina informs me I need to interview Brent for another position. After I went over the job description, I told her it was the same as the project manager position, and she told me to take it up with Jack. When I spoke to him, he said the old position had been revised to reflect a certification requirement, something Alberta didn’t have but Brent did. I thought that was the end of it, until I heard about the lawsuit. When I got the message, I called Jack and asked him how he wanted me to handle it, and he told me that since I hadn’t offered Alberta the position we ended up filling, her claim could never be substantiated, and I had nothing to worry about.”

  “You’re talking technicalities and you know it. You promised her that position and then you hired someone else for it.”

  “Nate, you have to understand the position I was in. Jack’s my boss. I was following his orders. He promised something else would come along for Alberta and I took him at his word. The company has been expanding like crazy. Positions are constantly opening up...” he said, his voice trailing off.

  Nate stared at him and sighed heavily.

  Fuck!

  He knew who he needed to speak to next.

  * * *

  “Hey, you got a sec?” Nate asked, sticking his head in Jack’s office hours later. The guy had spared no expense when he’d decorated it, installing a ten-by-three-foot putting green to give it the pampered executive touch he swore clients loved. The appearance of success was every bit as important as success itself. That was his friend’s philosophy.

  “It’s your lucky day. I’ve got ten,” Jack said, smiling broadly.

  Nate grabbed a golf club from the rack mounted on the wall and sauntered over to pick up the ball sitting next to the hole. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Shoot. I’m all ears.” Jack pushed to his feet and strode over to stand at the opposite end of the green as Nate positioned the ball and lined up his shot.

  He wasn’t a golfer but needed something to do with his hands that didn’t include using his friend’s face as a punching bag. “When you told Kennedy she’d done well for herself, what did you mean?” he asked in a deceptively neutral voice.

  Jack’s shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “Exactly that. She’s doing well with the agency. Most people will never be able to start their own business, much less make a success out of it.”

  Nate shot his friend a quick look before giving the golf ball a hard tap. After traveling a straight line for a couple feet, it began to veer right, rolling to a stop inches from the hole.

  “You always did suck at golf.”

  Ignoring the friendly insult, Nate casually remarked, “You’ll never guess who I spoke with today.”

  “Who?”

  “Jacob Spencer.”

  Jack’s eyes widened a fraction as a certain wariness entered his gaze. “Seriously? Wow. It’s been a while. How’s he doing?”

  “He’s doing great. Did you know he’s back in New York, working for a start-up? Says he misses it here, though.” Nate walked over to the ball and sank the inch-and-a-half putt with a light tap.