Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
And then reality slapped her. Hard.
Five years ago, Kate had inadvertently overheard a conversation among the three guys discussing how undatable she was. Kennedy’s exact words were She’s hardly irresistible, after which he’d suggested they all agree never to date her. Hearing Ian and Matt agree to the pact had stung a little—she was human, after all. But hearing Kennedy’s casual dismissal of her had damn near ripped her heart out.
And yet . . . she was grateful for it. Really. Truly. It had been exactly what she’d needed to cure her of her childish visions of love. Not to mention, it had given her perfect clarity on what she wanted: someone who did find her irresistible. And he was out there. She just had to . . . wait.
“I’m hungry,” Matt announced. “You guys hungry?”
“You just gave Kennedy shit for having lunch at two thirty—” Ian broke off when Matt gave him a look. “Yeah, okay, I could eat. Kate, let’s go eat.”
“I have work to do,” she said, even as Ian pulled her chair backward, and Matt grabbed her purse.
In the end, she let them take her to lunch. Not because they were her bosses but because they were her friends. And though they’d never say so, she knew they were trying to make her feel better about the Kennedy/Claudia thing. Which she fully appreciated but was unnecessary. Kate’s heart had gotten over its foolish Kennedy infatuation years ago, and her brain was far too smart to still be in love with her boss.
Unfortunately, her body was impossibly, irrationally, annoyingly still in lust with the man.
2
Tuesday, March 26
Kennedy glanced at the grandfather clock on his office wall, an antique that his friends never failed to give him shit for. It was half past seven, and he wasn’t even close to being done with work for the day.
The late lunch with his girlfriend probably hadn’t been the smartest decision. Then again, if he hadn’t taken Claudia to lunch, she’d be planning their dinner date, wondering if he felt like sushi or Italian or whatever new, hip place had just opened in the West Village, where she’d inevitably order a pile of vegetables, regardless of where they ended up.
Instead, she’d eaten half a Cobb salad at three p.m. and then spent the next fifteen minutes telling him she wouldn’t possibly be hungry for dinner after such a late lunch. One of the unexpected perks of dating a model was that Claudia spent a lot of time deciding when not to eat, which meant he was off the hook from the typical early-courtship routine of having to finagle reservations at every hot spot in NYC.
And actually, Claudia wasn’t a model—she was a former model, which was even better. She was stunning, but at thirty-three, she’d decided to “give up the life,” as she put it, and put her time toward “philanthropic endeavors.” Also her words.
He’d had his doubts about her, considering she’d been the result of a blind date set up by his mother, but he had to hand it to his mom. Now he had a beautiful girlfriend who spent most of her time raising money for charity and who, on the clingy scale, was hanging in there at a respectable seven out of ten, with ten being I need my space, damn it.
Though, if Kennedy were brutally honest, and he almost always was, Claudia’s clingy score was increasing lately.
He wasn’t loving her recent penchant for showing up at his office in the middle of the day unannounced. Today was the third time in a week that he’d had to take Claudia to lunch so she’d quit bugging his assistant with God only knows what variety of girl talk . . .
Kennedy slid his chair two inches to the left, a habitual motion that allowed him to see through his open office door to Kate’s desk.
As expected, the familiar sight of the back of Kate’s head greeted him. She’d worn her dark-brown hair in the same straight, basic style as long as he’d known her. He liked that about Kate. She was predictable. Steady. Reliable. At least as it pertained to her job duties.
On a personal level, she was a pain in his ass.
And yet, there was a comfort even in that. Kennedy and Kate may have gotten on each other’s nerves more often than not, but he also knew they were the same. They both liked calm. Order.
And somehow over the past few years, she’d become his calm. She was his order.
Even when she annoyed him. Which was . . . always.
Kennedy glanced at his inbox. There was plenty to contend with, and yet . . .
He stood and walked to his office doorway. He cleared his throat. Kennedy knew Kate heard him, because her fingers paused for a split second before resuming their rapid-fire typing.