had some hot animal sex, you could finally be totally free to move on. Heart and body,” Sabrina said, pointing at Kate’s crotch.
“Don’t be creepy,” Kate muttered, even as she looked at Kennedy’s closed door, hating that Sabrina might be a tiny bit right. Not necessarily about the loins and all of that. Kate liked to think she could control her baser instincts.
But it stung a little to realize just how much she’d been holding back when it came to Kennedy Dawson—first by trying to disguise her amorous feelings, then by trying to disguise her hurt feelings, now by trying to manufacture all the reasons he was wrong for her.
Kate picked up her cell.
“Who are you calling?”
“Jack,” she muttered.
“You’re going to see him again?”
Kate nodded as the phone started to ring.
“But I thought we agreed those were friendship roses,” Sabrina whispered.
“Exactly. Which is why I need to see him. Whether he meant it or not, he sent the right flowers, because apparently friendship is all I have to offer.”
“For how long?”
Kate jabbed a finger in the general direction of Kennedy’s office. “Until I figure out how to deal with that.”
15
Saturday, April 20
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Kennedy pulled back from the railing where he’d been staring absently at the murky water of the East River. “Hey, Dad.”
Roger Dawson joined his son at the railing, his ever-present scotch in one hand.
“Great party,” Kennedy said, taking a sip of his cocktail.
“Yeah, your mother always did put together a nice event.”
Nice event was an understatement. Kennedy’s parents had decided to celebrate forty years of marriage on a luxury yacht, chartered for the evening for two hundred of their “closest friends and family.” With a caviar buffet, live jazz band, and black-tie dress code, it made Kennedy’s birthday party a few weeks earlier feel like a backyard barbecue in comparison.
He felt a little flicker of guilt. The birthday party made him think of Claudia, which in turn made him realize this was the first time the woman had even crossed his mind since they’d broken things off earlier in the week.
“So you want to talk about it?” his dad asked again.
“Talk about what?”
“You tell me.”
“Oh good,” Kennedy said sarcastically, tossing back the last sip of his drink. “This game.”
His father smiled, not bothering to pretend that he didn’t know exactly what Kennedy was talking about. Roger had left his sons’ earliest years to his wife and an ever-present nanny, but by the time Kennedy and his brothers were in high school, their dad had stepped forward a bit, played more of a role, and this had been one of his favorite strategies. Whenever there’d been something on one of their minds, whether it be school, girls, friends, or sports, he’d had the same approach: he’d ask if his son wanted to talk about it. And then wait. And wait. And wait.
It worked. Every damn time, Kennedy and his brothers were sure they hadn’t wanted to talk about it, right up until the moment it all came spilling out. But Kennedy wasn’t fifteen any longer, and he knew that talking about problems didn’t necessarily solve them.
He stayed quiet, and his father changed tack. “No Claudia tonight?”
“We broke up.” Kennedy reached to his left to put his empty glass on a table.
His dad nodded. “Yeah.”
Kennedy let out a laugh. “You could at least pretend to be surprised.”
Roger shrugged. “It was nice of her to throw you that birthday party.”
“But?”
“Well . . .” His dad took a drink. “The party seemed a bit more about her than you.”
“Probably. I’m not sure either of us was in the relationship for the right reasons.”
“Why were you in it?”
Kennedy looked over his shoulder at the hundreds of people laughing and drinking on the yacht deck. “You know this is your party, right? You don’t have to play dad right now.”
“You never play dad. You are dad. And right now, this father wants to know what’s got his oldest son brooding alone.”
“I’m always brooding.” Always alone, too.
It was a weird thought. He wasn’t always alone, not technically. He had a great family, loyal friends. He dated when he felt like it. But whether it was from the reality of another birthday or the fact that his two closest friends and youngest brother had found women who seemed to make up their other half, Kennedy was increasingly aware that he wasn’t part of a couple. And while he’d never minded solitude, this was different.
“You said you were in the relationship with