Conflict of Interest - By Allyson Lindt Page 0,53
eye contact when they were seated, but was happy to talk to everyone else, including a lengthy discussion about the special with the waitress.
Then they were alone again. Scott traced the patterns on the table.
“So.” Kenzie didn’t like the silence. She could make small talk, right? Something simple. Non-inflammatory. “It’s too bad Rae couldn’t make it. The two of you have this synergy that’s fascinating to watch.” She felt a twinge of jealousy toward the other woman simply because Rae and Scott never had to hide their interactions. What would it be like to be open about how she felt about him? How she didn’t dare hope he felt about her?
The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t look at her. “I’m glad I could entertain you. Synergy. Did you pull that from a buzzword thesaurus?”
“You know what I mean. You just click.”
He finally glanced up. “We grew up together. She and Zach are pretty much the reason I survived adolescence.”
That genuine joy was back in his face when he talked about it. The smile, the gleam in his eye. She so rarely saw that when… She bit back a sigh. When she was the focus of the conversation. “That must be nice.”
He studied her for a minute. “You’ve got something similar with Riley, right?”
She shook her head. “Riley is a selfish pest.”
He winked at her. “So the two of you have that in common.”
She twisted her mouth in irritation. “Thanks.”
“You know I’m teasing.” He reached over the table, brushed his thumb over her knuckles, and pulled back abruptly as if he’d been shocked. “Sorry.”
She wanted to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. “The thing about Riley is she’s always telling me I have to loosen up. That I’m too uptight, I need to unwind, stuff like that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Gee, it must be tough having someone dictate how you should act. I can’t imagine.”
She took a sip of her water. “It’s different with you. You’re my job.”
“So you keep saying.”
This wasn’t going well. “About the other night.” She fingered the pendant at the base of her throat. “Or rather, the other morning. I should have been more diplomatic.”
His brow creased. “Is that difficult?”
“What?” She didn’t know what he was talking about.
“Apologizing without actually accepting responsibility?”
The words stung, but she knew she deserved it. She gave a sad smile. “As long I don’t have to admit I was wrong.”
His chuckle sounded forced and ended in a sigh. “So, we have to scale this back to completely professional.”
“Yes.”
“No more sex, seduction, secret meetings.”
It was harder to force out her “Exactly” than she expected. “But we can still stay friends.”
“Are we really?”
She looked at him, unable to ignore the combination of hurt and question in his eyes. “Friends? Of course.”
“So, if I randomly called you for a cup of coffee, you’d say yes?”
Why did she feel like this was a setup? But there was nothing deceptive in his face. “Of course. As long as I was available.”
His smile was weak. “Of course.”
This was devouring her. She just wanted to dive into his arms. To bury her head in his chest. To pretend everything was all right between them. Her heart thudded, and she frowned. “I’m so sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
“Me too.” He fiddled with his fork. “So this charity dinner, you’re coming right?”
She hadn’t expected the rapid shift in topic. “I hadn’t planned on it.”
The corner of his mouth pulled up in that half smile that so frequently disarmed her. “You have to come. It’s a massive industry affair, it’s for an amazing cause, and the theme this year is masquerade.”
And that joy was back in his eyes that didn’t show through very often. That enthusiasm that always made her want to know more. This time it also increased her guilt. She’d never investigated the dinner since it was private and casual, and she figured she’d have more luck asking him to behave in his own living room. “I shouldn’t admit this, but I don’t know what it’s for.”
He leaned in, intertwined fingers resting on the table. “It’s this auction, right? Everyone in the industry donates rare and one-of-a-kind items, someone donates the catering and the building, and every single cent, from the door price to the money raised, goes to schools with low budgets so they can give their kids access to technology and more basic things like books and supplies.”
“Oh.” The entire concept made his smile infectious. “I