Huge Deal - Lauren Layne Page 0,59
a little more often than I should, given our working relationship. But I’m not looking for a repeat.”
“Because of Jack?” he asked cautiously.
“What? Jack? Oh no. No, it’s not that. It’s just . . . I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what I want out of my life, especially my romantic life, and it’s changed.”
“How so?” he asked, watching her closely.
“Love at first sight is silly. I mean, it can happen, but there’s no guarantee that it’s permanent. Circumstances change; relationships shift . . .” People die.
She didn’t say the last part, but the flash of understanding in his eyes told her that he knew. Knew that her dad’s death had changed her perception of love. For so long, all she’d wanted was what her parents had, and it had genuinely never occurred to her that it could be taken away.
“Anyway, it means you’re off the hook. I’m not going to demand love letters or a marriage proposal. And I was thinking, with you working with Christian now, it might be a good time for us to try that friends thing for real. We could play chess again, or . . .” She broke off when his face remained impassive. “It’s your turn to say something.”
“Well.” He sipped the champagne. “I’d like to know if the dress fits.”
She inhaled for patience. “That’s your response? Because, by the way, you don’t just buy women dresses and champagne unless you’re hoping to talk them out of the dress later in the evening.”
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation. “I’m trying to be a nice guy . . .”
“Ian and Matt are nice guys. You know how they show it? They bring me back Starbucks whenever they go out for an afternoon caffeine break or take me to lunch on my birthday. They don’t show up on my doorstep with . . .” She looked at the dress. “I don’t even recognize this designer. How much was this?”
“Kate.”
She looked up. “What?”
“Do you want to go to the ballet with me tonight or not?”
She chewed her lip. She did. She really did. She was guessing the seats were excellent, because Kennedy Dawson wouldn’t bother with a live performance of any kind unless he had the best seats in the house. The champagne was delicious; the dress was the most gorgeous thing she’d ever seen . . .
“You promise no weird seductive stuff?” she asked, eyes narrowed.
“I’ll try to contain myself.”
“Good. Because I’m finally getting over you. I need to get over you. And it won’t work if you’re too nice.”
“Noted. Go change,” he said with an exasperated nod toward the hallway.
“Okay, fine,” she said, the allure of the dress and the ballet too much to pass up.
Nothing to do with the company. Nothing at all.
“I’m taking this,” she said, holding the champagne over her head as she went to change. “I’d tell you to make yourself at home, but I don’t know how you’re going to do that with the lack of grand piano and weird antiques.”
“I’ll try to entertain myself.”
She nodded, then pointed her champagne flute at him. “Don’t you dare eat my anal beads.”
He let out a laugh—a loud, spontaneous, honest-to-God laugh. The sort of laugh that was so real, so rare, it’d have nearly been her undoing.
But only if she were still in love with him, of course.
22
Saturday, May 18
Kennedy had enjoyed many a night at the opera, the theatre, and yes, the ballet. And though he’d probably seen more impressive shows, with impossibly-hard-to-come-by tickets, seeing the ballet with Kate surpassed them all.
She didn’t just watch the ballet; she lived it, slightly forward in her seat, at times seeming to hold her breath.
He’d brought her tonight to make her day a little brighter, to take her mind off her dad, and he liked to think he succeeded. But perhaps the more surprising part of the evening had been the effect on him.
Kennedy had done plenty of dating in his adult life. Plenty of one-night hookups, as well. But unlike Matt and Ian, who’d made a career out of the bachelor life before meeting Sabrina and Lara, Kennedy hadn’t shied away from relationships. He’d embraced his bachelorhood, dabbled in the playboy lifestyle, but he never angled for that to be his forever. He wanted to get married someday. It had always just been on a theoretical level, with some faceless “someday” bride. Someone beautiful, from his world, with common ideals. Someone easy, who wouldn’t demand too much.
He hadn’t