Huge Deal - Lauren Layne Page 0,6
right now. May I take a message or connect you to voice mail? Sure, one moment . . .
“Kate Henley . . . Mr. Bradley’s in a meeting at the moment. May I—Oh, hi, Mrs. Stilner. I’ll let him know you called.
“Kate Henley,” she said as she scribbled Mary Stilner’s name on her notepad. “Hey, Stacey. Thanks so much for getting back to me. Can I call you in a few? I’m drowning over here . . . Yep, the party’s this Saturday. Perfect, thanks so much.”
She hung up the phone, her hand hovering over the receiver for a full ten seconds, knowing that for whatever warped reason, phone calls seemed to come in bursts on days like this. When a full thirty seconds passed, Kate slowly pulled her hand away from the receiver, not wanting to jinx the fact that finally she was between bursts.
“Is it always like that?”
Kate looked up from her notepad at the interruption, her right hand never pausing in its note-taking. Then she saw the face behind the masculine voice, and her pen slowed to a halt.
The man looming above her was Kennedy but . . . not. The eyes were hazel instead of brown, the hairline slightly less square, the mouth . . . smiling?
Grinning, actually. Definitely not Kennedy.
The man extended a hand down. “I’m—”
“Jack,” she said before he could introduce himself. “You must be Jack Dawson.”
“Guilty. And just unlucky enough to be born a few years too early for my parents to realize I’d share a name with Leonardo DiCaprio’s character dying on the Titanic.”
“Leo’s character dies?” Kate asked, letting her chin wobble for just a second.
Jack’s smile dropped, and Kate laughed. “I’m kidding. I’m Kate Henley, and yes, I’ve seen the movie.” She shook his hand.
“Ah, Kate . . . as in Winslet.”
“Wow.” She let her voice take on an awed, hushed tone. “Exactly how much mileage do you typically get out of this Titanic thing?”
He gave an exaggerated wince. “Too much?”
“It’s really embarrassing for you,” she teased lightly, even as she marveled that she’d known Kennedy for years and they’d never developed the easy rapport she’d established with his brother in five seconds.
Even if he and Kennedy hadn’t shared a last name, she’d have known who he was immediately. The family resemblance was strong among all four Dawson brothers, though this was the first time she’d met Jack.
“I thought you were in London.” She scrolled through her memory, remembering that he was in international business of some sort.
“Paris, most recently.”
“Ah. You’re back for the party?” she asked after a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Kennedy’s door was still closed.
“Yeah, although I’m also back in New York for good. Well, at least for the foreseeable future.”
“Oh! I hadn’t heard. Your parents must be thrilled.”
“Actually . . .” He put his hands in his pockets and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You’re among the first to know. It just became final yesterday. I was hoping to tell Big Brother Extraordinaire in person. He around?”
Kate smiled. “Does he know you call him that?”
Jack lifted one eyebrow. “You’ve met Kennedy, right? He insists upon it.”
“Let me double-check his calendar,” she said, since Kennedy frequently added meetings without telling her, although unlike Matt, he managed to do so correctly. “Are your other brothers coming to the party as well?”
“Pretty sure. Fitz lives in the city now, and John’s always back and forth between here and Boston.”
Kate smiled the way she usually did upon hearing the brothers’ names all at once.
Kennedy, Jack, John, and Fitzgerald. There was little doubt in Kate’s mind that if Diane and Roger Dawson had had a daughter, she’d have been a Jackie.
“He doesn’t have anything on the calendar,” Kate said, looking back at Jack, “but he might be on the phone.”
“But there’s no one in there with him?”
“No. Though he hates—”
“Interruptions. I know. I had the room next door to him in our teens.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows, and she laughed again. “Point me to his office,” Jack said, gesturing at the multitude of closed doors behind her. “I promise to tell him you put up a hell of a fight to keep me out, but I just strong-armed past all . . . fourteen pounds of you.”
“Very rude to comment on a lady’s weight,” she said, unable to keep a straight face as she said it.
“True. Please don’t tell my mother when you see her at the party. You will be there, right?”
“Yeah, though more as a party