Huge Deal - Lauren Layne Page 0,81
the last time that’d happened, if there even was a time.
“Well,” she said, sipping the coffee again, then frowning because it was tasting even blander by the moment. “A quiet day. That’s exactly what I need after a busy weekend.”
But by ten a.m., Kate realized quiet was the last thing she wanted. The last thing she needed. Solitude left her alone with her thoughts, and her thoughts, as they were, were agonizingly brutal.
The night of the wedding kept playing like a nightmarish montage. Not the wedding itself, obviously. It had been a beautiful ceremony. But she couldn’t deny that seeing Lara’s dad walk her down the aisle had been excruciating. She’d known it was going to hurt, but she hadn’t been expecting it to feel like her legs had been kicked out from under her, like her chest had been crushed. And having Kennedy standing just a few feet away through it all, looking at her like . . . like . . .
I did fall, Kate. I’ve fallen all the way.
Even if it were true, she didn’t want to fall back. She didn’t think she could stomach the pain of loving someone all the way and then losing him.
Especially Kennedy.
Desperate for a distraction, she called her mom.
Eileen picked up on the third ring. “Hi, honey.”
“Hey, Mom!” She forced brightness into her tone. “How are you?”
“Good! Actually, Janine and I were just walking into the salon to get our nails done. Can I call you later?”
Rejected by her own mother. “Of course!” Whoops. Her tone was too bright and hit on a false note.
Her mom noticed. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, just a long weekend.”
“Oh right, the wedding! How was it?”
“Amazing. Absolutely perfect,” Kate said. “But seriously, go do your thing. Call me when you get a chance—no hurry.”
This time she managed to achieve her usual calm, in-control Kate tone, and her mom let her off the hook. “Okay, talk soon. Love you.”
“I love you, too,” Kate said before hanging up and finding herself once again surrounded by uncomfortable silence. Even the phones were unusually quiet.
By lunchtime, she’d finally cracked and had begun talking to herself again.
“This is what you wanted,” she reminded herself as she pulled her prepackaged Whole Foods salad out of the fridge. “You wanted space, and you got it. You wanted to learn how to rely on yourself for happiness, not someone else, so this is good practice.”
She nodded at herself, as though that would make the pep talk more convincing, when in reality, even to her own ears it sounded like a cliché movie about some loser woman who’d gotten knocked down by life and, instead of coping with it, had turned into some irrational weirdo.
Kate managed only three bites of salad before shoving that aside as well, her appetite still nowhere to be found. Caught up on her inbox and still looking for something to occupy her mind, she went to Christian’s desk and picked up the navy file folder. She’d given all of the guys their own color files a couple of years ago to make things easier on herself. Ian was orange, Matt was green, and Kennedy was navy. She dealt with a lot more navy folders than she did the other colors, since Kennedy liked to print out just about everything in addition to his various cloud backup systems. She’d protest more, but she liked that he also donated an obscene amount of money to reforestation, so maybe it all evened out.
She grabbed the folder and the keys to his office, noticing it was thicker than usual. Knowing him, he’d been holding on to the to-be-filed stack for a while, probably making sure Christian was legit before trusting him with any personal documents.
Kate smiled to herself, because it was so Kennedy.
Her smile slipped, because even that reminded her of that night.
You know me. Things take me a while.
She shoved the key into the lock, pushed open the office door, and tried to ignore the wave of Kennedy that hit her. She went to the wooden file cabinet along the right wall of his office and, after unlocking the cabinets, began putting everything in place. She’d done it so many times, she was more or less on autopilot, knowing which folder to put each sheet in based on letterhead or logo alone.
She picked up a piece of ivory paper, blinking down at the letterhead in confusion. Not because she didn’t recognize it, but because it definitely didn’t belong in Kennedy’s files. It was from Columbia