Huge Deal - Lauren Layne Page 0,31
told himself it was because Ian and Kate’s relationship had been easier than his and Kate’s relationship and that she’d accept tuition payment from Ian, not from him.
Lately, however, he wasn’t as sure. He knew only that he really didn’t want her to know the truth. That Kennedy had been the one who’d paid for her degree. That he’d do it again in a heartbeat and keep it just as secret.
Claudia and Kate’s conversation had shifted course to a movie starring Ryan Something-or-other, who Claudia thought was hot and Kate deemed overrated.
Kennedy finally chanced a look at his brother, braced for mocking but getting only thoughtfulness.
The server reappeared. “You guys ready to order?”
Kennedy had barely looked at the menu, but he nodded. Anything to speed the evening along. Kate ordered her mushroom truffle ravioli. Claudia got a salad. Jack ordered the duck and a bottle of wine for the table, and Kennedy opted for the bone-in rib eye.
“You two have any fun plans this weekend?” Claudia asked. “Kennedy and I are going to a black-tie thing at the Guggenheim on Saturday, and I know the coordinator. I could get two extra tickets.”
“Actually, we do have plans,” Jack said. “I scored tickets to the opera. Kate’s never been.”
Because she prefers the ballet.
“I’ve always heard it’s a NYC must,” Kate said, “but I’ve never had anyone to go with.”
Kate said it casually, matter-of-factly, and he genuinely doubted she expected or wanted sympathy, but her words caused a strange pang in his chest all the same. The woman had always seemed so confident and complete in herself—so utterly independent—it had never occurred to him that same reliance might have a side effect of loneliness.
Though it should have. Somehow, he managed to be lonely, even while in a relationship. Even, if he were fully honest, while he was among his friends.
“Oh, you’ll love it!” Claudia said. “Won’t she love it, Kennedy?” she asked, nudging him.
It took him a second to come back to the conversation. “Maybe. Opera’s sort of a love or hate thing.”
“Kennedy’s in the love category,” Jack said. “You know he used to listen to Bach, even in eighth grade?”
“Bach’s symphonies. An entirely different genre than the opera.”
Jack unsubtly delivered a “dork” behind a fake cough, and Claudia and Kate laughed.
“I think it’s adorable,” Claudia said, tucking her arm in Kennedy’s and resting her cheek against his shoulder.
“Definitely,” Kate said over the rim of her martini. “Adorable is definitely a word we all use for Kennedy.”
“What word would you use?” he asked Kate, since her sarcasm was clear.
“Adorable works,” she said sweetly.
He held her gaze. “Come on, Kate. Let’s hear it.”
“Kennedy.” The warning in his brother’s voice was clear, but Kennedy ignored it.
“So, Claudia, how are things going with that new charity you were trying to start up?” Kate asked.
“What word?” Kennedy snapped, refusing to be thwarted.
“Oh my God,” Kate said, shooting him an angry gaze. “Would you drop it?”
“Yes, do,” Claudia murmured quietly, rubbing her hand over his arm in a way that did absolutely nothing to soothe him. Especially not when Jack’s arm dropped around Kate’s chair. Casually.
That was the thing. There was no deliberate possessiveness in Jack’s gesture—the motion seemed spontaneous, as though it were second nature for his brother to be draped all over his assistant . . .
The truth hit Kennedy hard. And uncomfortably.
Surely he wasn’t . . . jealous?
No. Absurd. He was just protective. He knew that Jack traded out women with casual ease, and Kate had some grand vision of whatever it was her parents had.
He gave Claudia a forced smile of reassurance that he’d drop the topic, and the rest of the meal passed . . . tolerably. He was forced to rethink his opinion on the restaurant. It was small and crowded, yes, but the steak rivaled anything he’d had at any of the top steakhouses, and the wine Jack had selected was excellent. And yet, even as he forced himself to relax, to participate in the lively conversation around him, he couldn’t stop dwelling . . .
What word would Kate use to describe him? Not adorable. He got that. He didn’t particularly want to be seen as adorable by anyone. But it suddenly seemed vital to know how Kate saw him. Who knew, someday he could be her brother-in-law . . .
The steak that he’d just enjoyed suddenly wasn’t sitting so well, and he pushed his plate away.
“Dessert?” Kate asked as one of the bussers began clearing the table.
“No,” Kennedy said curtly,