by Lauren Layne
Kate managed only three bites of salad before shoving that aside as well, her appetite still nowhere to be found. Caught up on her inbox and still looking for something to occupy her mind, she went to Christian’s desk and picked up the navy file folder. She’d given all of the guys their own color files a couple of years ago to make things easier on herself. Ian was orange, Matt was green, and Kennedy was navy. She dealt with a lot more navy folders than she did the other colors, since Kennedy liked to print out just about everything in addition to his various cloud backup systems. She’d protest more, but she liked that he also donated an obscene amount of money to reforestation, so maybe it all evened out.
She grabbed the folder and the keys to his office, noticing it was thicker than usual. Knowing him, he’d been holding on to the to-be-filed stack for a while, probably making sure Christian was legit before trusting him with any personal documents.
Kate smiled to herself, because it was so Kennedy.
Her smile slipped, because even that reminded her of that night.
You know me. Things take me a while.
She shoved the key into the lock, pushed open the office door, and tried to ignore the wave of Kennedy that hit her. She went to the wooden file cabinet along the right wall of his office and, after unlocking the cabinets, began putting everything in place. She’d done it so many times, she was more or less on autopilot, knowing which folder to put each sheet in based on letterhead or logo alone.
She picked up a piece of ivory paper, blinking down at the letterhead in confusion. Not because she didn’t recognize it, but because it definitely didn’t belong in Kennedy’s files. It was from Columbia University, and Kennedy was a Princeton guy. And yet it was definitely addressed to Mr. Kennedy Dawson.
Still baffled, she scanned the contents, realizing that she’d gotten this same memo herself late last week. It was a generic form letter informing those affiliated with the school that the admissions, alumni, and administration offices had all been temporarily relocated during renovations. Kate had gotten the memo because she was an alumna of the business school.
Why would Kennedy get one?
Pointlessly, she glanced over her shoulder, and then, before she could think better of the invasion of privacy, gave in to the need to know. She opened up one of the drawers, to the Cs, searching for Columbia. She didn’t find it, but there was a folder marked C—a plain manila folder, not navy, the way it should have been if it was a folder Kate set up for him.
Kate sent up a silent apology for snooping and then pulled out the folder, somehow already knowing that her instincts were correct. The C stood for Columbia.
The stack of paper inside was relatively slim, but the impact of what she found nearly knocked her off her feet. Dazed, Kate walked slowly backward until she found herself sitting in Kennedy’s chair, reading the contents over and over until it finally sunk in.
Ian hadn’t paid for her MBA tuition. Kennedy had.
Why had Ian lied? Why had Kennedy? It didn’t make any sense, but there was no denying what she’d read. Kennedy had written an enormous check years ago, paying for her entire degree with one signature. There was no indication that he’d split the cost with Ian, no mention of a transfer of funds.
Kennedy had given her that gift. And hadn’t said a word about it.
Kennedy might not have fallen in love with Kate the way she had with him, at first sight, all in. But he had cared when she’d assumed him indifferent.
I think too much; I’m always up in my head. I may not feel as quickly as you, but I do feel, Kate.
Of course he did.
And suddenly Kate realized that she’d made the most massive mistake of her life.
31
Monday, June 10
Kennedy stared down at the chessboard. Moved the white pawn forward, then moved it back. Then he realized that he wasn’t white; she was.
And she’d never be playing with him again.
He crossed his arms and glared around the room. What did people do on days off? It was too nice out to stay inside and watch TV. He wasn’t depressed, for God’s sake. He could go for a walk to the park—Nope. That made him think of her. Just like work made him think of her. Same with food. Drink. Breathing.
Shit. Maybe he was depressed after all.
Good speech, Dawson. Don’t romanticize it.
The sound of dozens of chess pieces clattering to the ground snapped him out of the flashback, and Kennedy looked down, stunned as his brain caught up with what he’d done. In a rage, he’d swiped the chessboard to the ground.
Kennedy Dawson didn’t do rage. But then, he didn’t really do love, either, and look where he was now. Head over heels for a woman who didn’t love him back.
He started to bend down to pick up the pieces but stopped. He’d do it later. Right now, the mess suited him. So did the anger.
Kennedy headed toward the kitchen, intending to call his brothers and see if any of them could make time for a weekday round of golf. Chasing a tiny ball around while playing the world’s most frustrating sport sounded like just the thing.
A pound at his front door had him pausing in the hallway and reversing course toward the foyer. His front door was wood but had glass paneling at eye level so he could see who was on the other side. At least, normally he could. He didn’t see anyone right now, which meant the other person would have to be . . .
Very short.
Kate.
He knew it. Sensed it. Hated how much he hoped for it.
Kennedy ordered his dignity to ignore the insistent pounding. Let her wait. Let her hurt like he was hurting.
He opened the door.
Kate’s fist paused midknock, and she dropped it to her side, then lifted her hand to adjust her headband, betraying her nervousness, but he was fresh out of sympathy.
“What do you want, Kate?”
“Why’d you buy my dad that fishing trip?”
He didn’t even pretend to know what she was talking about. “What?”
“Right after I first started at Wolfe. My dad had to cancel his annual fishing trip with his friends because the place they’d always stayed at was closed. You rented a house for them. Why?”
Kennedy shook his head, vaguely remembering the occasion but certainly not remembering the details. “I don’t know. It seemed important to you, because it was important to him. I had the ability to help, so I did.”
“And what about when I said I wanted to go back to school. That was important to me, too. You had the ability to help . . . so you did?”
He opened his mouth with the default lie that Ian had paid for it, but she lifted a finger in warning.
“Are you sure you want to lie to me right now?”
Kennedy tiredly ran his hands over his face. No. He didn’t. What was the point anymore?
“Why?” she asked quietly, reading his silence for the affirmation it was.
He shrugged. “Like you said, it was important to you. So I guess it was important to me, too.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay. But then why let Ian take the credit for it?”
“I’ve asked myself that a million times,” he said honestly. “I still don’t know if I have an answer. It just seemed important somehow.”
“That I didn’t know you did something nice for me? No, not just nice.” She shook her head. “Over-the-top generous, Kennedy. Even for someone with a lot of money—and I know you have a lot—paying for my tuition outright was beyond generous. Why not just let Wolfe cover it? They have education assistance for employees.”
He was already shaking his head. “I didn’t want you tied to the company. For all I knew, you’d start business school and realize you wanted to do something else with your life, something outside of Wolfe. I wanted that to be an option for you.”
“You wanted me to leave Wolfe?”
“No,” he said sharply. “God no. I just wanted you to feel like you could, if you wanted to. I wanted you to be happy.”
“Ah
,” she said lightly, even though she didn’t sound like she understood. “But you didn’t want me to know it was you who’d ensured that happiness?”
“Not really,” Kennedy said warily, because she had that look on her face—the one where she knew she was one step ahead of whomever she was dealing with. Which meant she was one step ahead of him, and with his defenses as low as they were around her these days, he wasn’t entirely sure he was up for this conversation.
“Why?”
He shook his head.
“Try, Kennedy,” she whispered. It wasn’t a plea, but it was close.
This was important to her, and because she was important to him . . .
“I didn’t want you to like me because of that,” he said in a rush. “I didn’t want to win your affection or your respect because I paid your tuition. I wanted you to like me because of me. To like me just as I was—uptight, crotchety, and all of that.”
“But I did like you,” she said softly. “Way too much.”
“Well, I didn’t know that,” he said, his voice a little cross. “All I saw was that you were easy with Matt and Ian but on edge with me. I figured you disliked me because I wasn’t charming and easy to talk to the way they are.”
“Because I heard you call me plain—”
“About that,” he interrupted, because if they were going to have this out, they were going to have it all of the way out. “It was recently pointed out to me that I was the one who insisted we make the pact to stay away from you. Did you hear that in your eavesdropping?”
She frowned and shook her head.
“Ian and Matt apparently didn’t need the pact because they were never in danger of hitting on their assistant. I was the one who needed it, who needed to be reminded to keep his hands to himself. Does that sound like a man who thought you were plain? Or in any way resistible? Because it sounds to me like a man who needed his friends’ help in resisting.”
“Revisionist history.” She gave a flippant wave of her hand, but he reached out and gripped her wrist.
“No, Kate. It’s not. I noticed you. I did. Even if I didn’t consciously realize it at the time. And yeah, it bugged me that you never seemed to like me like you did the other guys. You think I don’t realize that I can come across as cold? That I lack Matt’s charm and Ian’s wit? That despite being older, I come behind Jack in both looks and personality?”
“Stop it,” Kate said firmly. “Stop saying those things. I didn’t fall in love with Ian, or Matt, or Jack the moment I saw them. I fell in love with you.”
Kennedy’s breath caught, but then he remembered that she fell out of love with him just as easily.
“Why are you here?” he asked tiredly when she didn’t say anything more.
“I wanted the truth about why you paid my tuition.”
“You could have called.”
“Um, no way would you have picked up. You’re mad at me.”
He let out a deep breath. “No, I’m not. I just need time to get over you. You had years to get over me. I think I deserve at least a couple days.”
“Well, you’re not going to get it, because I didn’t.” She stepped closer, and his fingers gripped her wrist tighter.
“You didn’t what?”
“Get over you.” Her words were quiet but confident, and they packed a hell of a wallop. She met his eyes steadily, wilting slightly when he stayed silent. “You’re not saying anything.”
“Well, no, Kate,” he said gruffly. “I sort of laid it all out there, and you tossed it aside pretty easily. How do I know you’re not going to change your mind again tomorrow? Or the next time I say something clueless that hurts your feelings, because God knows it’ll happen? Or the next time things get tough?”
“Now see, I knew you were going to say that,” Kate said, tugging her hand free so that she could rummage around in her purse. Before he could register that she’d pulled out a dark-red velvet box, she was down on one knee.
Kennedy’s stomach dropped. “What the—Are you nuts?”
Undeterred, she opened the box. Not slick and practiced with a flick of her thumb but with two hands, clamshell-style. “Kennedy Edward Dawson. Will you marry me?”
“Get up.” He bent down, trying to lift her, but she wiggled away.
“You have to answer. It’s rude not to.”
Rude. She’d come to his house, told him she was in love with him, and proposed, all without giving him a chance to catch his breath, and he was rude? This time when he reached down, he caught her, hauling her up easily. But by the time he set her back on her feet, all of her bravado was gone.
“Please, Kennedy. You don’t have to marry me. Just give me another chance. Please.” Ring box still clutched in her hand, she reached up and tugged on his shirt, her hands a little shaky. “I love you. I don’t know how I possibly thought I was over you, when you’re all I’ve thought about, all I’ve ever wanted.”
He caught her chin and held her gaze. “I want you all in, Kate Henley. I can’t do this if you’re not.”
She smiled smugly and issued her challenge. “Then make me Kate Dawson.”
Kennedy’s heart soared at the thought. He pulled her closer. “I love you.”
She bit her bottom lip as though trying to hide a smile, then failed completely, because her face erupted in a full grin. “You love me?”
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “A lot.”
He brushed his lips against hers, softly, not yet completely confident this wasn’t a dream. But then she kissed him back, and he poured his heart into the kiss and felt her give hers right back. And though he had every intention of finishing the kiss upstairs, there was one last item of business . . .
Kennedy tugged the box out of her hand and studied the traditional but expensive-looking ring, knowing from the name on the box that it was no cheap corner-store buy but a huge investment. He felt a lump in his throat, knowing how terrifying the gesture must have been for her.
To keep her from feeling embarrassed, he grinned at her. “I’m a traditional guy, Henley. You really think I’m going to let you rob me of a proposal?”
“Not really,” she said. “It was more of a grand gesture. Actually, you know, now that I think of it, why don’t I just take that back—”
Kennedy wrapped an arm around her shoulders and began pulling her forward as he held the ring well out of her reach. “Very amusing. I think I’ll just hold on to this.”
She pulled to a stop outside the living room. “What happened to your chessboard?”
“Ah.” He glanced at the mess. “Female woes.”
“Apparently. Can I interest you in a game? Distract you from this silly girl who forgot her own heart for a while there?”
“Maybe later. I’ve got a long game that I’m playing right now that’s taking all of my concentration.”
She shrugged and kissed his shoulder, and the casual, sweet gesture of affection made his throat clench with emotion. God. It was official. He was as whipped as Ian and Matt.
And he’d never been happier.
Epilogue
Saturday, July 20
“Happy birthday!”
Kate paused in the doorway, grinning at the gathering of her friends and family.
Lara had walked in with Kate, and she linked their arms. “Not surprised, huh?”
“Not even a little,” Kate said. “Kennedy knows better than to totally rob me of planning my own birthday party.”
“You and your planning,” Sabrina said, linking her other arm. “But hey, it’s your birthday. Whatever floats your boat.”
“Well, it’s not totally without surprises,” Lara said slyly, nodding at an older woman approaching them.
“Mom!” Kate pulled her arms free of her friends and rushed over to hug her mother. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh, your fella arranged for me to come into the city. Found someone to watch the puppy and everything. Brought me here in a fancy car, put me up in a fancy hotel. He even arr
anged for me to have my hair done. See?”
“It’s fabulous,” Kate said, kissing her mom’s cheek, relieved to see that she looked genuinely happy.
The shadow of losing Kate’s dad faded a little more every time she saw her, and Eileen reassured Kate with every visit that life really did go on—it was just a different stage of her life. Kate liked that and hoped that someday her mom might even find a new partner for this new stage.
“You know you didn’t have to come all this way, though, right? I know you hate the city, and this isn’t even a birthday ending in a zero.”
“I wouldn’t miss it,” her mother said. “Oh! Look, prime rib . . .”
She dashed off toward a buffet table, just as Kennedy approached, a slight smile on his face.
Kate flung her arms around his neck, kissing him full on the mouth, unabashed they were in the middle of a crowded room. “Thank you,” she said against his lips.
“You already knew it was happening. You’re the worst surprise party recipient ever.”
“I didn’t know about Mom, though. Best surprise ever.”
“You sure about that?”
She laughed and pulled back. “Seriously? You think you can top my mom?”
Kate’s smile froze in confusion as she realized everyone was watching them expectantly.
She frowned. “What am I missing?” Then she saw it and laughed. “Oh my God, an ice sculpture!”
“They’re very in right now, didn’t you know?”
“I did. What the heck is that?” she said as she got closer. “It’s very . . . phallic.”
“Yeah . . . Didn’t really think that through. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Oh! It’s a king!” she said. “From a chessboard.”
“Nerds,” Ian said from behind a fake cough.
Matt chimed in. “You know, if either of you wants to play, I’ve actually beaten a grand master. I’d love to take either of you on—”
“Oh, Matthew. Please be quiet,” Lara said, tugging him away from Kate and Kennedy.
Oblivious to her friends, Kate stepped closer to the ice sculpture. “There’s something inside it. What . . . Oh. Oh my God.”
