“Of course she does. Everyone loves you.”

  Kennedy snorted gleefully. “Well, I don’t know about Mr. Edwards, since I’m about to take a nice bite out of ECO’s payroll.” She blew on her nails and buffed them against her shoulder, feeling supremely proud of herself.

  Aurora let out a high-pitched squeal. “Yes! Yes! I knew it.”

  Kennedy couldn’t help laughing along with her. “But I demanded ten percent more than they initially offered, which was already twenty-five percent more than my last salary, and the signing bonus was three times more than you told me to ask for.”

  Rendered momentarily speechless, Aurora gaped, her blue eyes wide. “Are you shitting me?” she asked, her voice a whisper of hushed disbelief.

  “Nope. And I have a feeling I can ask for even more, and with that kind of money, I’ll finally be able to pay off my student loan. Which means I’m free, Rory. Free!” Giddy, Kennedy threw her hands in the air and wriggled happily in place. “And I’ll be able to afford an apartment closer to the city.” Or at the very least, in a nicer part of Brooklyn.

  Boisterous celebration ensued, the women giggling as they hugged and high-fived like a bunch of giddy teenagers. When the giggling finally subsided, Aurora sat back, one slender leg tucked under the other, and regarded her soberly. “Those bastards. They’re getting way more out of you than you are of them. How dare they use you like that?”

  “Don’t worry.” Kennedy gave her friend’s hand a gentle pat and squeeze. “I’m using them right back. Guess who’s in charge of diversifying their staff? And each hire comes with a very generous recruiting fee.”

  Aurora stared at her for another somber beat before erupting into laughter. “Oh my god, that is a thing of beauty. This is genius-level how to capitalize on a crisis. You know what, screw working with them and come work with me. We’d make a formidable team.”

  “We would, wouldn’t we,” Kennedy said, a wistful note in her voice. “You know, I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately. Being my own boss. Working for myself.”

  Since she’d been laid off, it was almost all she thought about. A business of her own. Where she failed or succeeded on her own merits. Where the fate of her employment wasn’t subject to the whims and desires of someone else.

  But debt-ridden temporarily employed media relations specialists weren’t exactly great credit risks, and banks actually expected repayment of their loans. They were funny like that. Which meant striking out on her own would have to wait. How long, she wasn’t sure, but with the end of her student loan payments tantalizingly close, it could be much sooner than she dared hope.

  Much sooner.

  “You will. One day. We both will,” Aurora assured her, and probably herself. How could she not, considering her family? Her father was a Hollywood director, her mother a model-turned-actress-turned-executive producer, and her three brothers were all super successful in their chosen fields—although, Nate was the overachiever to beat all overachievers. Naturally, Aurora, the baby of the family, wanted to forge a path of her own.

  Just like Kennedy.

  “We should open up our own PR agency.” As soon as the words were out, Kennedy slapped a hand over her mouth.

  Where had that come from?

  By much sooner, I guess you meant right now, another voice answered.

  Aurora’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed. “Are you serious?”

  This morning she could barely afford to open a lemonade stand, much less her own agency, but everything had changed. Now she knew her worth. At least, to ECO. That knowledge changed the trajectory of her life and what was possible.

  As to the question of whether she was serious or not, Kennedy didn’t need to mull it over long. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I am.” Her voice grew more emphatic with each word, the agency’s mission and purpose taking shape in her mind.

  “Look at what happened to me today. The company needed me so Sahara wouldn’t take one look around the conference room and take her business elsewhere. Which tells me if that’s happening at ECO, it’s happening at a lot of other companies. And with the growing pressure on Hollywood, boardrooms, educational institutions, and Big Tech to diversify, I’d say the pool of potential clients could make an agency that manages issues of a ‘diverse nature’—” she air quoted the term “—very profitable, wouldn’t you agree?”

  “So you want to help those companies?” Aurora asked, looking understandably skeptical.

  “Okay, I know what you’re thinking, but hear me out. I think we can agree that most companies aren’t like your brother’s. He made it a priority to create an inclusive and diverse workforce. Most companies have to be dragged kicking and screaming into the twenty-first century, just like ECO Apparel. But now that I have my foot in the door, I can push for those kinds of changes, especially if I have someone like Sahara making it a condition of partnering with them.”

  Aurora sighed, nodding. “I can’t argue with you on that. Constellation is definitely the odd company out, especially in the tech industry.”

  Kennedy had to give it to Nate—he’d built a company anyone would be proud of.

  “And as we grow, we can expand our services by offering diversity and inclusivity, and sexual harassment classes and training.” Kennedy had taken a certification course to teach both at her last job. It had been cheaper for the company than paying an outside firm.

  By the gleam in her eyes, Kennedy could see Aurora’s enthusiasm for the idea growing. “And with my background in crisis management, we’ll have all the bases covered.”

  “Exactly.” It would be a full-service boutique PR agency with an emphasis on diversity and inclusivity.

  “Oh my god, I love it.” Aurora’s eyes were fever bright. “Does that mean you’re going to turn down the job and I’m going to quit mine?”

  Kennedy’s nod and smile were tentative. “I think so. But only if you’re in.”

  “Oh, I’m definitely in.”

  A kaleidoscope of butterflies took up residence in her stomach. “Have we lost our minds?” Kennedy asked in a hushed voice, unable to believe they were actually going to do this.

  Aurora grabbed her hand and squeezed hard enough to cause Kennedy to wince, barely able to contain her excitement. “We’re two badass women ready to make our mark.”

  “Yeah, that’s us, two badasses,” Kennedy said, laughing.

  “So what are you going to do about ECO? They’re counting on you to land Sahara.”

  Kennedy had been giving that some thought. “I’m going to tell them the truth. I can’t be their employee, but they can be our client. Our first.”

  “That was my thought too. And this way we’ll be able to charge them a lot more than what they were offering.” Aurora’s expression became thoughtful. “So, what do you want to call it?”

  Like a lightning strike or a tornado, the name seemed to come out of nowhere but resonated in every single part of her being. “Token. I want to call it Token.”

  She’d been one almost her entire life, but this time she was going to turn the meaning on its head and to everyone’s advantage.

  * * *

  At the kitchen island an hour later, Kennedy sipped on a brown cow float and Aurora on a glass of red wine, their euphoria having settled into a lady badass bosses glow.

  “Okay, I think we’ve got all we need right now.” Aurora closed the laptop and finished her wine. Their rudimentary business plan now resided on the computer’s hard drive and three cloud services, because it was better to be safe than sorry. They’d both learned that the hard way in college.

  Kennedy turned and looked out the window. She grimaced when she thought about the subway ride back to Brooklyn. Maybe today she’d splurge and take an Uber. “And I should be getting home. Can’t be late tomorrow.”

  The knock on the front door had her swinging her gaze back to her friend. “You expecting anyone?”

  Aurora shot a glance at the digital clock on the wall. “Oh my goodness, it’s after seven. I almost forgot about dinner,” she exclaimed, sliding off the stool and rushing from the kitchen.

  Still seated at the island, Kennedy puzzled over how, in the past hour, Aurora could have ordered food delivery without her being aware of it.

  When her friend returned not even a half minute later, she brought company—in the brooding form of her brother Nate.

  An audible gasp escaped before Kennedy could prevent it.

  “Surprise! Guess who’s in town and brought dinner?” Aurora chortled, triumphantly holding up two Mama Napoli paper bags, the smell of garlic and tomato sauce already permeating the air.

  “You know how I hate surprises,” Kennedy groused, glaring at her friend. “That took two years off my life. All I saw was a man behind you, and I thought we were about to be kidnapped or robbed.” There was a millisecond of truth in that.

  “Don’t recognize me anymore, Kennedy?” His voice was arid dry.

  As if.

  To that, she put her best smile forward and played the part. “I certainly do now. Hello, Nate.”

  The right corner of his mouth inched up a fraction. “Hello, Kennedy. I take it Aurora didn’t mention I’d be coming by?” If ever a voice matched someone’s appearance, it was Nate’s. Deep and broody.

  It would be too clichéd to describe him as tall, dark, and handsome—his hair being dark blond and all. No, he required more nuance than that, as his features were too chiseled to classify him as a pretty boy, but those lips of his were...sin incarnate—a weakness of hers that predated their introduction. The only word she could use to describe them was lush, bringing favorable comparisons to the likes of Theo James. She also preferred men who possessed more lean muscle than bulk, and unfortunately, Nate fit that bill too.

  The disconcerting truth was this: when it came to Nate Vaughn, she always felt like she swam a little too far from the shore, and being at best a mediocre swimmer, put herself at significant risk of drowning.

  “Clearly not. The last I heard, you were wining and dining susceptible women all over France.” She’d learned long ago that wit and humor were her best defenses against him.

  “I have been accused of spreading myself too thin.”

  Too thin could also be applied to the current state of the barely there smile on his face. If prior experience hadn’t shown her that he did in fact have a sense of humor—not much but some—she wouldn’t be able to tell now.

  Aurora claimed that since Nate started his company—in college, no less, because apparently Zuckerberg had set some invisible bar for all the serious techies out there—her brother suffered from an all-work-no-play syndrome. Which left him little time for girlfriends. He certainly never brought any home, which was now his mother’s biggest complaint. A year ago, he’d decided it was time to expand beyond America’s shores and was now setting up a European office and warehouse in France.

  “I don’t remember using the word susceptible,” Aurora said innocently as she placed the bags on the island and began unpacking savory container after savory container.

  Kennedy sent her friend a chiding look. Et tu, Aurora? Can no one in your family take a joke anymore?

  Nate wandered deeper into the kitchen, hands buried in the pockets of his cargo shorts. “Speaking of wining and dining, how many hearts have you broken lately?”

  Yep, that was her, Kennedy Mitchell, femme fatale extraordinaire, collecting and breaking hearts since puberty.

  “Too many to count,” she answered breezily. “But I’ll be sure to let you know when I get the annual body count down under twenty.”

  The corner of his mouth might have lifted at that. It was hard to tell, the movement was so fleeting.

  “You should see the guy she’s dating now. She’s got him wrapped—”

  Kennedy cut her off with a muttered sound of outrage and gave her friend a quelling look. “Aurora, boundaries,” she bit out in a sharply worded reprimand.

  The status of her dating life was absolutely none of his business.

  “Ooops, sorry.” Aurora zipped her mouth shut and threw away the key in dramatic pantomime fashion. Only she didn’t look all that sorry, a reminder to Kennedy of how close the siblings were. Aurora probably shared more with him about Kennedy than she would ever be comfortable with.

  “Okay, enough small talk. Let’s eat.” Her friend walked over to the cupboards where she kept the plates and bowls.

  Kennedy sent one longing look at the containers on the counter and inhaled the scent of everything good about Italian food. The sandwich and brownie she’d had during the meeting felt like a lifetime ago. But as much as it pained her, she couldn’t stay and indulge. Not in the food or the company. Especially the company.

  “Sorry, Ror, I have to get my butt in gear. I need to be getting home.” She offered an apologetic smile.

  Aurora’s expression immediately fell. “No, you have to stay. Nate brought our favorites—stuffed manicotti with meat sauce and chicken primavera Alfredo. You can do either or both.”

  Damn him. He was the devil’s own foot soldier.

  Be strong. It’s only food. There’s more of that where it came from.

  Shaking her head, Kennedy circled the island and gave Aurora a hug. “I’ve got to go. I have a big day tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep.”

  Nate made a sound in his throat and met her raised eyebrow with an arched brow of his own. “Beauty sleep?”

  “Well, some of us don’t just wake up in the morning, run a hand through our hair, and look perfectly presentable,” she said airily. “Unlike you, some of us mere mortals need our beauty sleep.”

  Without even cracking a smile, he pulled his hands out of his pockets and glanced at his watch. “Stay and eat and I’ll give you a ride home. It’s probably not a good idea to be taking the subway this late at night anyway.”

  “It’s quarter after seven, Nate.”

  “It’ll be dark soon.”

  “Right, in an hour, and I should be home by then.”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake, just let him drive you home.” Aurora sounded like she was dealing with two squabbling children.

  “No, Rory, I really have to go. I’ve got so much stuff still to do tonight. Plus, I’m going to take an Uber anyway.” She directed her next remark to Nate. “Thanks for the offer. It’s very sweet of you, but I’ll be fine.”

  For a second it looked like he was going to argue, but then he gave a brisk nod. “Okay, suit yourself.”

  After bidding Nate a cheerier than normal goodbye—her mouth strained under the burden of the smile—she and Aurora made their way to the front to wait for the Uber to arrive.

  “Do you want to do something with us this weekend? Nate is flying back to Paris on Sunday.”

  Aurora? In a heartbeat. Nate? Not so much. These days, she could only handle him in small, digestible doses. Taciturn men had their places. In her company for any extended amount of time wasn’t one of them.

  “Sorry, Ror, I’ve got a million errands to run, and an apartment to clean once I’m done running myself ragged. Plus, your brother deserves to spend quality time with his favorite sister—”

  “I’m his only sister,” she interjected, rolling her eyes.

  “—without me around.”

  “Okay, fine, you don’t want to come.” Aurora went full woebegone on her. “But we’re going to miss you.”

  “Maybe you will, but I doubt your brother will.”

  Just then, the man in question appeared in her periphery. She instinctively turned in his direction.

  “I take it we won’t see each other before I head back?” If he’d heard her last comment, his expression didn’t let on.

  Hitching her purse strap higher on her shoulder, she made her tone light. “Looks that way. But I’m sure I’ll see you whenever you’re back in town. Take care and don’t be such a stranger.”

  For two people who’d known each other as long as they had, a hug or a kiss on the cheek wouldn’t have been amiss, but he made no move in her direction and she always wisely followed his lead.

  “Right. Take care, Kennedy.”

  And that was the last she’d see of Nate Vaughn for a while.

  4

  Two years later

  Men are impossible.

  “Mr. Carter—”

  “Please, I told you to call me Peter.”

  Yes, but that had been last year, when she’d had higher hopes for him and the company. He’d had an entire year and had yet to institute one change she’d painstakingly detailed in the diversification and inclusivity plan Token had created for the company. A plan for which he’d paid the agency a nice chunk of change.

  Spine straight, legs decorously crossed, and clasped hands resting comfortably in her lap, Kennedy sat in her ex-client’s office, a massive redwood desk between them.

  Peter Carter, the president and CEO of Moves, prided himself on being able—at fifty-eight—to bench-press two and a half times his body weight. (He may have mentioned it a time or four during their last conversation.) The thick hair on top of his head was all his—he’d slipped that in too—although the same couldn’t be said for the color, which she attributed to Just For Men medium brown.

  In meeting with him today, Kennedy had been strategic, selecting a tailored pantsuit because the last and first time they’d met, he’d remarked—quite casually and with absolutely zero sense of self-awareness—that legs like hers were made for dresses and skirts. This he’d said directly to her face. She’d responded with a bland smile, and then politely asked if the company had mandatory sensitivity training for all its employees, including management. Without batting so much as an eyelash, he’d unironically replied that while the company abided by the state mandate, he personally hadn’t attended the sessions, and what a shocker that had been.