Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Cozy!” Ian chimed in with enthusiasm. “Your bosses, your wife, and your top client, who once dated your wife . . .”
“They didn’t date,” Matt groused at Ian before looking beseechingly at Kate. “Can you fix it?”
“Done,” she said, already locking her computer screen and picking up her cell. “I sent an invite to Jarod asking to reschedule for Friday, confirmed the review with the bosses, and . . .” She held up her screen. “Just texted Sabrina to see if happy hour works instead of lunch.” Her phone buzzed, and Kate looked down at the message from Sabrina Cross, Matt’s wife and one of her best friends. “She says we’re good.”
“I love you,” Matt said. “You are the best. And so, so pretty. Isn’t she pretty, Ian?”
“So pretty.”
Kate shot Ian a suspicious look. “What’d you do?”
He sucked in his cheeks and pretended to think. “Hypothetically, if Lara was feeling a little stressed about the wedding, and I told her to calm down . . .”
She gave him a look. “Please tell me you didn’t actually say the words calm down to the woman planning your wedding.”
“Well . . .”
“Oh my God,” Kate muttered, thumbs already at work as she wrote another text message, this time to Lara McKenzie, to do damage control with Ian’s fiancée. “At least if you two keep it up, I have unshakable job security.”
And she meant it. Of course, on paper, she reported to Kennedy, Matt, and Ian. Technically, they were the bosses, she, the executive assistant. But they all knew who really ran the show.
It wasn’t a typical arrangement, but the four of them went way back—they’d all started at Wolfe Investments the same year, within a month of one another. Back when the guys were junior brokers and Kate’s primary employment goal had been a job that covered vision insurance, contributed to a 401(k), and put her over-the-top organizational skills to use.
Though Wolfe had a high burnout rate, with very few junior brokers “making it” to the next level, her guys had all been promoted to director. And while protocol had dictated they each pick their own dedicated assistant, they’d all picked, well, her.
It had worked out well for all of them. On Wall Street, where douchebags were a dime a dozen, Kate had lucked out not only to have one boss who wasn’t a total dick but three who respected her and had become friends.
The result had been a crazy few years, but Kate wouldn’t have changed a moment of it. Well, that wasn’t true. Kate would happily eliminate Matt’s fondness for screwing up his own calendar. And she hadn’t exactly relished Ian’s pre-Lara days when she’d smoothed out more than one of his awkward Whoops, I slept with her; Whoops, her, too scenarios.
As for Kennedy . . .
“Hey, if it isn’t my two favorite boys!” Claudia said, releasing Kennedy’s arm and coming over to greet them.
Kate knew it was petty, but she couldn’t help but relish Matt’s ever so slight eye roll at Claudia’s over-the-top air-kiss routine.
Claudia slapped Ian’s biceps. “Ian Bradley, I haven’t seen you in forever! You keep dodging my double-date invitations.”
Ian dutifully pecked Claudia’s cheek. “Apologies, doll. The wedding planning’s been keeping us busy.”
“Right! Remind me again when the big day is?”
“It was supposed to be Valentine’s Day, but we made a last-minute venue change and pushed it to June.”
“Oh, so your darling girl will be a June bride!”
Matt caught Kate’s eye and mouthed, Darling girl?
She pressed her lips together to hold in a smile, imagining what Lara, a badass FBI agent, would think of the descriptor.
Kennedy caught their exchange and swatted the back of Matt’s head, which earned him a curious look from Claudia.
Without acknowledging her silent question, Kennedy asked, “You ready for lunch?”
“Lunch? It’s two thirty,” Matt said, glancing at his Rolex.
“Congrats, Kate, you finally taught Matt how to tell time!” Ian exclaimed.
“I wish,” Kate said.
“You know, I mastered that a few years ago,” Matt said. “It’s damn dates that seem to trip me up . . .”
“You sure?” Kennedy said. “Because you didn’t seem to have telling time mastered this morning when you were four minutes late for our six a.m. run.”
Ian turned to Claudia. “It’s not too late, you know. Save yourself.”
“I think he’s adorable,” Claudia said, reaching out and taking Kennedy’s hand. “Shall we?”
Kate looked away under the pretense of checking her email, but not before she caught the way Matt was looking at her. She looked back for a moment, and Matt gave her a hint of a smile that was just a tiny bit sad.
She wasn’t an idiot. She knew her friends all thought she was besotted with Kennedy Dawson. She wasn’t. Not anymore.
She didn’t know how to explain it to them, though. She could barely even admit to herself that once upon a silly time, when she was far younger and more idealistic, Kate had looked up from her computer, locked eyes with her new boss, and promptly—stupidly—fallen head over heels in insta-love. The kind of all-consuming, butterflies-in-the-stomach, wedding-fantasy type “love” usually reserved for eighth graders and Disney characters. She’d even been so naive as to think maybe, just maybe, the way his eyes darted away when she looked his way meant something. She’d foolishly let herself believe that he’d been quietly watching her, the same way she found herself looking at him more than necessary.