Conflict of Interest - By Allyson Lindt Page 0,1

shop. From the outside it was tiny, tucked away, and had very little parking. But inside painted a different picture. An eclectic collection of furniture dotted the room, almost every seat occupied. Wood stairs led to a loft above half the room, and there had to be at least as many people up there.

Kenzie took her place in line. At least it was moving quickly, even if there were people pressing in on her from all sides. When she reached the front counter, glass cases filled with pastries mocked her. She dismissed the urge to try the plum tart—indulging a sugar craving wasn’t the way to sate her wounded ego—and ordered a large peppermint tea.

She grabbed her drink and scanned the crowded room for a place to sit and sip. Not a single unoccupied table, but three had available seats. A woman sat at the first, trying to force-feed the baby in her lap a pacifier while Mom sucked on a latte. At the second, two teenage boys stared at their phones, their only verbal conversation the occasional laughter as they smacked each other on the arm.

Then there was the scenery at table three.

The man with a shock of brown, spiked hair, broad shoulders, and a tattered T-shirt that looked like it had seen one too many accidental bleachings dominated a table in the corner of the room, one of the few empty chairs sitting next to him. The clothes made him look twenty, but he held himself with a confidence that made her think he was actually older than her twenty-six.

She had no idea who he was, but she saw him almost every weekend, and she’d used the fact that he was frequently engrossed in something on his phone or some game device as an excuse to study him without getting caught staring.

What’s keeping you from approaching him? The question taunted her in Riley’s voice. It wasn’t like she was shy.

The answer was painfully obvious. It wasn’t appropriate. Women didn’t hit on random men in coffee shops.

Except Riley would. Hell, Riley would have had his number weeks ago, and probably been living with him just a few days later.

Kenzie took a deep breath. That meant she could at least strike up a conversation and see where things went from there.

She approached the empty spot before she could talk herself out of it and forced confidence into her voice. “Excuse me.”

“Hmm?” He barely moved his head, immersed in something on his phone.

“Is this seat taken?”

He pulled his attention away from the screen long enough to let his gaze rake over her. A flicker of a smile tugged up the corner of his mouth before he turned back to the phone. “It is now, help yourself.”

Those eyes were gorgeous; her breath caught at the deep brown. But just as quickly, he’d hidden them again. This wasn’t quite going like she thought it should. Not that she had any idea how it should go. She’d never played the role of aggressor before, but she was already realizing it was easier to be the one doing the turning down than the one doing the asking.

“Do you come here often?” She winced at the pathetic line the moment it was out.

He spared her another glance, laughter dancing on his face. “Probably at least as often as you.”

And that was it. He was buried in his distraction again.

How embarrassing. She exhaled. This wasn’t worth the effort, but it would look awkward if she left so soon. She should at least use the seat she’d secured. Grabbing her phone, she pulled up the book she’d been in the middle of and tried to lose herself in the pages while she drank her tea.

Background noise screamed around her, and she pushed it aside. A creeping heat flooded her face as something tickled her senses. Was someone watching her? She looked up, startled to see the man across from her glancing between the phone and her.

*

She shifted her attention from her book—Scott assumed it was a book since she was staring at a white screen with lots of black letters. Her piercing blue eyes were curious, and a hard line disrupted the swelling in her flushed lips. It was time to forget the game he’d been testing for work.

He’d noticed her before. The long legs, narrow waist, and round ass accentuated her jeans the way the over-priced designer had intended, and the entire package was always nice to look at. But the fact that her wardrobe screamed “I