Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78313 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“You know I can fire you, right?”
“Not without Matt’s and Kennedy’s agreement.” She smiles sweetly as she crosses her legs and settles in. “Now, tell Kate alllll about what’s bothering you. Relationship problems?”
“Go away.”
“Oh, that’s right,” she muses, as though I haven’t spoken. “You don’t do relationships.”
I look at her. “I do relationships.”
“Um, no. Matt sometimes does. You, never. I don’t think Kennedy even knows how to date.” She furrows her brow.
“That’s bullshit. I’ve had girlfriends.” One. Sort of.
“You’re thinking of Anne? That was four years ago. And it lasted for, what, two weeks? Barely counts.” She looks down at her pale-pink manicure. “So, about Lara . . .”
My gaze sharpens. “Since when are you two on a first-name basis? You’ve been calling her ‘the SEC’ for weeks.”
She waves this away. “Keep your enemies close and all that. Plus, she’s one of the only females in this place, and ovaries bond with ovaries.”
“Nope. Out,” I say, pointing to the door.
Kate doesn’t budge. “You can’t be thinking of seducing her.”
I sit back and allow myself to ask the question out loud that’s been on my mind all weekend. “Why not?”
“Because she’s not like one of your usual women,” she says incredulously. “She’s not some party girl out for a quick lay. Hell, Ian, she’s not out for a lay at all. Not with you. Not as long as she’s investigating you.”
Just what I need, another person reminding me that Lara’s off-limits.
“Was there something you needed from me, or were you just here to deliver the lecture?” I ask with a bit more bite than usual.
“It’s Dave’s birthday next week. Want me to get him something? Spare TV?”
“Nah, see if you can get season tickets to the Flyers. Best seats you can find.”
“I thought he liked baseball,” Kate says, making a note in her phone.
“He likes anything where yelling, beer, and junk food are encouraged.”
“Hockey it is.” She taps a few more times. “It’s Lara’s birthday next week, too,” she says, not looking up from her phone.
I jerk to attention. “It is?”
She looks up and grins. “I have no idea. Just wanted to see if I was right about your interest in her, and I totally am. Ask her out.”
I close my eyes. “Kate. You’re giving me whiplash. You just said I couldn’t ask her out.”
“That’s when I thought you just wanted to sleep with her. Now I know that you like her.”
“Jesus,” I mutter, running my hands through my hair.
“No wonder you’ve been moody,” she says, leaning forward. “Have you kissed her yet?”
“Bye, Kate,” I say, waving her toward the door.
She studies me. “Have you ever even been on a date, Ian?”
“Of course I’ve been on a date. I date all the time.”
“Really.” She sits back and crosses her legs. “When and where was the last date you went on?”
I mentally run through my recent encounters with women. The last being . . . well, hell. Now that I think about it, I haven’t actually gotten laid in weeks.
That can’t be right.
“And I’m not talking about sex,” Kate drones on, reading my thoughts as she so often does. “I’m talking dinner. Drinks. Conversation. A date that wasn’t just a stepping-stone to sex.”
I think. And think. And realize that perhaps the closest I’ve come to anything remotely resembling a date in years happened at that restaurant with Lara after she got stood up. And again at the club.
I look at Kate. “You want to go out to dinner with me?”
She laughs. “Nope. I don’t date my bosses.”
That’s definitely true. Kennedy, Matt, and I made a pact years ago that Kate was off-limits, little-sister territory. Not because she’s that much younger than us, but because we adore her.
And all three of us know she deserves better than any of us can offer.
Still . . . I give her a playful look. “But if you did date bosses, it wouldn’t be me, would it?”
Her laughter dies, and she gives me a warning look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Right on cue, Kennedy strolls into my office, pausing briefly when he sees the back of Kate’s head. “Am I interrupting?”
“Yes, and thank God for it,” Kate says with a last warning glare for me.
Kennedy ambles toward my desk, dropping into the seat beside Kate. “What are we talking about?”
Kate leans toward him and loudly whispers, “Ian’s trying to remember the last time he went on an actual date.”
“That would be never,” Kennedy says without hesitation.
Kate nods. “Exactly.”
“Guys, my love life is not open for discussion.”
“You don’t have a love life,” Kennedy says, flipping through e-mail on his phone.
“Well, neither do you,” I say, thoroughly out of patience with this whole thing.
He doesn’t look up from his phone. “I’ve had relationships.”
I see Kate go slightly stiff at this announcement, though Kennedy doesn’t seem to notice. Then again, he doesn’t seem to notice much as far as Kate’s concerned. It’s like he’s got a blind spot. He’s fiercely protective of her—we all are—but he also keeps her at arm’s length, almost as though he’s wary of her. And it bugs her, I think.