They stared at her as she turned. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked onto the elevator that would take her back to her office.
It wasn’t until the doors clicked closed behind her that the reality of what had just happened hit her.
Twelve
Caleb found himself facing a cute, short blonde who was giving him a smile of sympathy. Actually, it might’ve been more like pity.
Crap.
There went his hope that maybe that interaction hadn’t been as weird as he’d thought. Something gross and unsettling made him queasy as he attempted to return the pretty blonde’s smile. What was her name again?
Right. Emma. He’d met her briefly after their movie date the other weekend. She was Kennedy’s roommate and friend and…
And apparently she was his date for the work outing later.
Awesome.
Meanwhile, the woman he was dating—temporarily—had just run away from him as if had the plague. Was it something he’d said? Had he done something wrong?
He’d seen her that morning in her office and everything had been fine. What the heck had happened since then?
He had to talk to her, but first… His gaze moved back to the blonde and he realized she’d said something. “Sorry, what was that?”
Her expression grew even more pitying.
This could not be good. What did she know that he didn’t?
He’d find out, just as soon as he could chase after Kennedy without being a total jerk. Quickly and unceremoniously he rattled off the details for the impromptu work outing after the shoot ended.
He was already heading toward the elevator when she replied. “Great, see you there.”
Yeah, great. He wasn’t sure what exactly had just happened but he was pretty sure his temporary girlfriend had just set him up on a date. With her friend.
This was so great.
He knocked on her office door but didn’t wait for a response before he let himself in. Time was of the essence since filming would start up again in twenty minutes. Hopefully that would be long enough to figure out what on earth had just happened down there.
Kennedy didn’t look shocked to see him. She just looked… hard. Weirdly distant, not just her usual reserve. “Can I help you?”
And now suddenly he was back to being just another intern. “Yeah, you can,” he said. “You can explain to me what’s going on.”
She folded her hands on the desk. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He crossed the room so he could see her better. “Why were you acting so oddly down there?”
“Oddly? How so?”
There was something so off with her. She sounded like a robot.
And he looked like a clown.
For the first time since taking off after her he remembered that he was still in that ridiculous clown costume and makeup as he stood here trying to figure out why he was suddenly in the doghouse. He was pretty sure he’d experienced more emasculating moments in his life, but at the moment he couldn’t think of one. “Kennedy, talk to me. What’s going on here?”
She shrugged. “There’s nothing going on here, Caleb, and I’d ask that you keep any personal issues outside the office.”
His jaw fell as he studied her. Who was this person and what had she done with his Kennedy?
Well, not his Kennedy, but the Kennedy he’d come to know and love.
Well, not love love, obviously. That was just a saying. He didn’t love her.
Did he?
No. He couldn’t. She was all wrong for him. This was just a casual fling.
So then why was he so bent out of shape that she’d set him up on a date?
Unless it wasn’t a date. Maybe she’d just wanted them to be friends. Maybe she wanted him to be friends with her friends because she liked him.
“Was there something work-related that you wished to discuss with me?” she asked, interrupting his inner monologue that was making him more confused by the second.
Nothing in her attitude, tone, or expression led him to believe that she was currently so smitten with him that she desperately wanted him to hang out with her friend without her.
He was so freakin’ confused.
She stood behind her desk, her attention apparently riveted by a stack of correspondence in her inbox. “Caleb, my calendar is packed today. If there’s nothing more you’d like to discuss, then I’d appreciate it if you could close the door behind you on your way out.”
On autopilot he found himself backing out of her office. He didn’t trust himself to speak even if he knew what to say.
Heck, he didn’t even know what he was feeling except blindsided. Physically he felt sick. And winded. Like he’d just run a marathon after eating several Big Macs.
It was not a pleasant sensation.
He closed the door behind him as she’d requested but he found himself standing there staring at the closed door for a full minute, waiting for her to open it again to apologize or tell him she’d been kidding.
She did not open the door and one minute later he was no closer to figuring out what had just happened than when he’d first arrived.
But he couldn’t stand there forever and it was clear that whatever was going on with her, there was no way she’d talk to him about it while at work. So he was left to wait and wonder.
But he couldn’t wait and wonder for long because after aimlessly wandering the office building for twenty minutes, it was time to go back to the studio to film the next segment.
He had to go be a happy-go-lucky clown.
Sweet.
Thirteen
Kat’s voice on the other end of the line was more of a screech. “What do you mean she dumped you?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. I seriously have no idea what happened back there.” He was halfway to the bar where he was supposed to meet up with some crew members… and Emma.
He still had no idea why, but that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was, he had a sick feeling that when he’d walked out that door to Kennedy’s office, it had ended. They were over. She hadn’t said the words but he’d read the situation.
She’d looked at him like he was nothing. But what could have changed?
He stopped walking abruptly and a pedestrian bumped into him from behind. “Sorry,” he mumbled. He should keep moving. He should not stand here like an idiot, staring off into space.
But a thought had occurred to him, and it would make sense of her behavior.
Patrick was back.
To Kat, he said, “He’s back.” Cryptic, sure, especially since he’d never told her and Yvette the full details of his current arrangement with Kennedy. Not because it was a secret but because he’d been busy… dating Kennedy.
“Who’s back?” Kat asked, not unexpectedly.
“Patrick.” The name came out on a growl. Gah, he hated that name. He hated the man. He hated his anonymous face!
“Who is Patrick?” Kat asked. “Why do I feel like I’m missing something here?”
“Because you are,” he said with a sigh. “And I don’t have time to fill you in on the whole story right now because I’m about to have drinks with Kennedy’s roommate.”
“Why?”
“Great question.”
“I’m so confused,” Kat said.
“Join the club.” The bar came into view as he turned a corner and he spotted the pretty blonde walking in. He slowed his pace so he could finish up this not-at-all helpful conversation.
“Maybe her roommate can help you figure out what’s going on in Kennedy’s head,” Kat suggested.
“Maybe. But I’m not sure how to bring it up.”
“Why?”
He stopped, frowning at the bar door as he remembered the way Kennedy had practically thrown Emma at him before running away. “Because I’m pretty sure this is a date.”
“No.” Kat’s disbelief was obvious.
“Yes.”
“You think Kennedy—your Kennedy—is try
ing to set you up with her friend?”
He hated to even answer that. But the real reason he couldn’t respond vocally was because his brain had gotten stuck on what Kat had just said. Your Kennedy.
My Kennedy. He repeated the phrase to himself multiple times and in a variety of voices.
It didn’t sound wrong. And it felt… right.
My Kennedy. Mine, mine, mine. Not Patrick’s. Mine.
“Caleb?” Kat prompted.
“I’ve got to go.” He hung up without waiting for a response. He had more questions than he could handle, and while he’d love some good insight from his friends, he didn’t have the time or patience to seek them out and explain this whole scenario from the beginning.
All they knew was that he’d been spending his every free moment with Kennedy lately and that he was happy.
He had been happy. He’d been having the time of his life getting to know her and making her laugh.
He thought she’d been happy too.
He needed to talk to Kennedy—really talk to her. But first… he looked through the glass door and saw Emma laughing with one of the crew members.
First he had to go on a date.
Emma’s face lit up when she saw him and he felt a jolt of guilt in response. What was he even doing here? He didn’t want to be here, he wanted to be with Kennedy.
He ordered a drink and sat beside her, happy to let her and the others carry on the conversation while he moped over a beer.
“You okay?” Emma leaned in toward him, her voice soft and kind.
When he looked into her eyes he saw an intelligence there that shouldn’t have surprised him. She was Kennedy’s friend, after all. Kennedy wouldn’t have dumb friends.
But she also looked… knowing.
He tried to force a smile. “Yeah. Fine.”
“Liar.”
He was pretty sure his face expressed very clearly just how confused he was. “Excuse me?”
“I said you’re a liar,” she said simply before taking a sip of her pink cocktail. Before he could argue the point, she said, “But if it makes you feel any better, I’m positive Kennedy is even more miserable than you are right now.”
He blinked at her.
She tilted her head to the side and gave him a slightly condescending smile. “Don’t worry, Caleb. I didn’t say yes to this weird blind date because I actually want to date you.”
She said it in such a comforting tone, it was hard to take offense. “Okay,” he said, certain he was failing this conversation in a major way. “So, why did you say yes?”
She let out a little exhale that he recognized. It sounded just like Kat’s sigh when she had to explain to him yet again how to file his taxes.
“Because much as I love Kennedy, she can be a bit obtuse at times.”
He let out a short laugh. “Have you ever said that to Kennedy? Something tells me that wouldn’t go over well.”
Emma’s grin was instant and megawatt. Wow, this girl really was pretty.
But she still wasn’t Kennedy.
“Of course not,” she said, her Southern accent making it come out in a sing-song tone. “I let Kennedy go on believing that she’s got it all figured out,” she said sweetly. “But I think you and I both know that she’s got her head up her butt when it comes to love.”
His heart stopped. His hands went numb. “Love?”
Was that his voice? It sounded like a teenage girl’s voice, not a leading man’s.
Her pert nose wrinkled up as she considered him. Then she let out another exasperated sigh. “You don’t see it either, do you?”
His heart was pounding so hard it was deafening. “See what?”
She gave him a smirk. “Patrick’s coming back.”
Oh crap. His gut churned as his heart twisted in his chest. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t even think, he was—
“Uh huh,” Emma said, setting down her drink. “That’s what I thought.”
“What? What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice filled with more than a hint of desperation. “When’s he coming back?”
Patrick was probably back already. He’d known that was it from the start. What else would have made his Kennedy change her attitude so drastically? Why else would she push him away so thoroughly?
Patrick.
He despised Patrick.
“Is he back already?”
Emma shook her head.
“Then when’s he coming back?”
“I don’t know,” Emma said with a shrug.
“But you just said—”
“I don’t know exactly when he’s coming back,” she said, unperturbed by his glare. “But he will come back… eventually.”
They stared at one another. He wanted to be angry at her for getting him all worked up, but he was too busy being relieved that Patrick wasn’t currently headed to Kennedy’s apartment. “What are you playing at?” he finally demanded.
She didn’t even try to hide her smugness. Heck, this girl might look like an angel, but she was clearly a little devil. “I just wanted you to open your eyes. You love Kennedy, just admit it.” She shook her head in apparent annoyance as she reached for her drink. “One of you needs to.”
It seemed his lot in life was to be permanently flummoxed. He kept staring at Emma as though by watching her mouth he could make sense of her words.
But in truth, it was just his brain that had issues keeping up. His heart was on board. It heard the word love and something clicked into place inside him, as if all these wonky emotions now had a place to settle.
Love. This was love.
Was it?
The image of Kennedy’s face popped up in his mind’s eye and his chest tightened painfully.
Yes. This was love. He needed her. He wanted her. He loved her.
His laugh came out winded, like he’d just gotten done with a run. His whole body felt weightless for a moment as the full meaning behind this sank in.
He’d done it. He’d finally found her. It felt like a lifetime of waiting… but it was all worth it. He’d found his perfect fit.
And she was nothing like he’d imagined.
His brain felt compelled to point out the obvious, but he brushed it aside. For the first time he finally understood what Yvette and Kat had been trying to tell him.
When love came, it came. He had no say over it and it was ludicrous to think that he could order up his other half like he’d order a burger. I’d like that with no onions, but keep the pickles, thanks.
And he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wouldn’t have her any other way. He loved his prickly, guarded, mysterious, strong, funny, practical, sexy, argumentative Kennedy.
He loved her.
His grin felt dopey so he wasn’t terribly surprised to find that Emma was laughing at him.
“Gosh, you two are clueless, you know that?”
Somehow it sounded sweet coming from this adorable charmer. But then her words registered, as did the fact that he was sitting there with Emma rather than Kennedy. “Wait, what’s going on?” he asked. “If Patrick isn’t on his way back, then why is Kennedy acting so weird?”
Emma heaved a sigh that would have made his mother proud. “My guess? My loveable idiot of a friend is in the midst of a panic attack.”
He narrowed his eyes in her direction. “What do you mean? Why?” All kinds of paranoid thoughts started racing through his mind.
She was panicking because she’d realized that he was in love with her. He’d been too obvious about it. He’d been openly swooning all over the girl, and she was probably running scared.
Yvette was right, he never did have game, especially when it came to women he liked. When it came to women he loved… Well, there’d only been Kennedy and it seemed he had negative amounts of game when it came to her. Was that possible? If so, he’d done it.
He’d come on too strong. He’d scared her off with his neediness and his excitement and now she was throwing her roommate at him to keep him
away.
Emma was watching him with a questioning look. “Because she’s in love with you, too.”
He stared at her once more. Pretty soon he was going to be intimately familiar with this poor girl’s face because he couldn’t seem to stop staring. Every word out of her mouth seemed to be spectacularly revelatory.
Either that, or she’d been right about how dumb he was.
Maybe a bit of both.
It took a moment for her words to truly hit home. Kennedy loved him too. His heart leapt wildly in response.
Or so Emma thought. But Emma could be wrong. He thought of Kennedy’s expression when she’d kicked him out of her office. So cold, so distant.
His heart plummeted.
But then again… he knew her well enough to know that the more emotional she became, the more she withdrew into herself.
He reminded himself to breathe and took a sip of his beer in the hopes that it might help to steady his pulse. He was on some crazy emotional roller coaster and he wanted off. Now, preferably. Despite his best efforts, he could feel his hopes rising, desperately out of control. If Emma was wrong…
He couldn’t even think about how devastating that would be.
But if she was right…
His hopes shot through the roof.
He looked to Emma. “I’ve got to go talk to her.”
She pointed her finger at him like a gun. “Bingo.”
“Sorry,” he said as he scrambled out of his seat, throwing money onto the bar. “I hate to leave you here and—”
“Seriously? I’ve been eyeing that production assistant since I walked in. Get out of here so I can make a move.”
He glanced up at her in surprise and laughed when she gave him a wink. “Go get your girl, stud.”
He drew in a deep breath as he shrugged on his jacket. Go get your girl.
That was what he aimed to do.
Fourteen
Kennedy hated to cry. She despised it, really. She went to great lengths to avoid it.
So how had she let this happen?
Curled up on a ball in the middle of her bed, she wept uncontrollably for the first time in years. Her face hurt, her head hurt… but mainly, her chest hurt. Up until today she’d thought that heartbreak was metaphorical.
Once Upon an Ice Queen (Instalove in the City Book 3) Page 12
