Huge Deal - Lauren Layne Page 0,14
I’m allergic to oysters.”
“Oh, she knew,” Sabrina replied, the slightest edge in her tone.
“No, I don’t think I ever mentioned it to her,” Kennedy said, feeling the need to defend his girlfriend. “It’s obnoxious when people unnecessarily announce allergies, like those people who essentially introduce themselves as gluten intolerant, as though anyone needs to know that. Just don’t order the damn thing.”
“Oh no, she definitely knew,” Lara said, backing up Sabrina. “Kate told her.”
“Why would Kate and Claudia—” Kennedy broke off as he put the pieces together. “That’s why Claudia’s been in the office the past couple weeks.”
“Took you long enough,” Matt said into his drink.
“What did you think she and Kate were doing in the conference room all of those times?” Ian asked. “We thought for sure you’d figure it out.”
He should have. How had he not connected his upcoming birthday with Claudia’s repeated visits to the office with that little notebook in hand?
Kennedy ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman’s used Kate to try to get the inside track on us.”
“I never did,” Sabrina protested.
“That’s because it’s your job to know everything about everyone,” Lara said. “I totally did.”
Ian glanced down in surprise. “You did?”
“Try to get the scoop on you, your romantic status, your entire life history from Kate? Hell yeah, I did,” Lara said without repentance.
“Did she spill?”
Lara shrugged. “She told me what I needed to know. Just like she told Claudia what she needed to know.”
“Yes, and look how well Claudia listened,” Matt said cheerfully, pointing at the elaborate display of shellfish.
“It’s not a big deal,” Kennedy said.
And it wasn’t a big deal, truly. Sure, it was a little odd. Crab cakes and shrimp cocktail, he could understand. He didn’t expect people to forgo all seafood just because he was allergic to shellfish. However, he saw his friends’ point. The raw bar was clearly the focus of the evening’s food options.
But he couldn’t really bring himself to care, because . . .
“Where is she?”
Sabrina pointed. “Two o’clock. Talking with the Sams.”
He followed Sabrina’s gesture, then winced, not only because the sight of his newish girlfriend chatting it up with his bosses was a little unnerving but because he hadn’t been talking about Claudia. And he saw from the way Matt and Ian exchanged a look that they knew it.
Kennedy knew it wasn’t fair to be annoyed, and certainly not to feel hurt, that Kate wasn’t here. But when he stepped off that elevator and had been barraged by the shouts of surprise, and happy birthday, and drunken did you see his face? proclamations, he’d scanned the room for the one person who centered him. Instinctively, he’d sought Kate out, because Kate was steady in a world that was so often ridiculous. But she hadn’t been there.
Because she wasn’t here.
Ian glanced down at Lara. “What time did you say Kate was getting here?”
Kennedy’s gaze snapped to Ian, both irritated and relieved his friend had read his mind.
Lara tilted Ian’s watch face toward her. “It should be any minute now. She said she needed to run home to change, but that shouldn’t have taken this long.”
“Change from what?”
“Poor thing was here at, like, ten a.m. setting everything up,” Sabrina chimed in. “She couldn’t very well be overseeing your girlfriend’s oyster feast in cocktail attire, so she had to go home and change. We ladies don’t wake up like this, you know.”
“So true,” Matt said. “You should see this one.” He mimed a cloud around his head and mouthed, Huge.
Sabrina shrugged and pointed to her sleek dark hair. “It’s true. The miracle of heat tools, ladies and gentlemen.”
Sabrina may be one of his good friends, but he didn’t give a crap about her hair. He wanted to know why the hell his assistant had wasted her Saturday setting up his birthday party.
“This isn’t part of Kate’s job,” he said. “It’s not what we pay her for. What the hell was she thinking?”
“Kennedy,” Lara warned quietly, just as Matt said, “Moron,” a little less quietly.
“What? I just mean—”
“Dude.” Ian interrupted Kennedy sharply and jerked his head for Kennedy to turn around.
He stilled, knowing even before he turned who he’d find standing there. Kate. Kennedy turned to face her, ready to explain that he hadn’t meant it like that. That he didn’t expect—didn’t want—her being his girlfriend’s unpaid assistant . . .
The explanation died on his lips.
“Damn, girl,” Sabrina said as she went to hug Kate.
Kennedy couldn’t have said it