Conflict of Interest (18 page)

Hank held the door open for her, still never looking directly at Scott, and let it swing shut behind them.

Scott stood in the night air for several minutes after they were gone, breathing deep and trying to remember not to hyperventilate. He pushed back his fury at Cartee and the very visible reaction he’d had to Kenzie. Great, he was a kid again who couldn’t even control a hard-on. Fantastic.

* * * *

Kenzie stood near the back of the room, shifting her weight from one foot to another. Standing up straight made her heels ache, but fidgeting didn’t solve the problem. She desperately wanted to step out of the torture devices masquerading as shoes. She sipped her water and watched as item after item sold to the highest bidder.

It made her smile that so many people were into the evening. Or at least, now that the novelty of snapping pictures of everyone in their costumes had worn off and she had some peace, it made her smile.

She’d mingled a little, but this wasn’t the kind of affair she was used to. Scott was in his element. Every time she caught a glimpse of him, he was laughing and joking with someone new. She didn’t know which were his colleagues and which were just fans, but he seemed to enjoy everyone’s company. Such a sharp contrast to how drained he’d looked at the investor dinner.

Could she sneak out for the night without saying goodbye? Was it rude to leave before the auction was over? She set her drink on a nearby table and made her way toward the exit, relieved when she didn’t pass anyone. The lights and noise faded into the background, and she left it behind her with a hint of regret.

A warm hand landed at the small of her back, startling her and obliterating her musings, and a faint whiff of cologne greeted her. It was him. She stopped in the empty, quiet hallway. At least he couldn’t hear her hammering heart.

His breath was warm on her neck, his voice low. “What they’re saying is true. You really are the most beautiful woman here.”

The compliment warmed her, and she couldn’t fight the flutter that surged through her chest. She tried to push it away, stay aloof, hope it didn’t show on the surface. “Really? How many of the others have you said that to?”

“Not a single one.” Hurt was distinct in his reply.

She winced at the wounded honesty, but hid her reaction, never turning to face him.

“It’s a shame we’re just associates. Friends at best.” He moved closer until his entire left side was pressed against her back, hand on her hip and finger tracing a light line along the top of her skirt. “Because I desperately want to take you home with me.”

Her skin flushed from the contact and the sincere words, and she was glad the makeup and latex hid it. She spun, any response dying on her lips when she met his gaze. She traced a finger over his face beneath the fake scar. “This is sexy, but I’m glad it’s not real.”

He inhaled through clenched teeth, a reluctant smile flitting in. “Me too. Getting something like this probably hurts like hell.”

She laughed and ducked her head. It was too easy. Too much fun.

He stepped closer, and she locked her gaze on him again, sinking into the deep brown of his eyes. He traced a finger over her bottom lip, and an electrified chill ran through her. Her lips parted, and her eyes half drifted shut as she leaned in.

His mouth found hers, and her heart hammered in response to the gentle kiss. He deepened the gesture, hand moving to the small of her back and holding her close. She pressed tightly against him, memorizing every inch of how his body felt against hers, his distinct reaction digging into her hip.

A loud giggle echoed through the empty hallway, sounding like shattering glass in the otherwise still.

Her eyes flew open, and she broke the kiss as she remembered how very public their surroundings were. She forced one foot back, and then the other, putting a several inches between them. Her laugh sounded forced and nervous, even to her own ears, and disappointment warred with propriety. “This might not be the time.”

He studied her for a moment, expression finally breaking into a sad smile. “Had to give it a shot, right?” Hurt rang heavy in his fake laughter. “Anyway, I’m out of here soon, just wanted to tell you good night. Thank you for coming.”

He kept the distance between them, and her disappointment grew.

“See you.” He moved away, not shaking her hand, or kissing her cheek, or anything, before he faded back into the crowd.

She slumped against a nearby wall, beating back the desire to chase him down. To tell him it didn’t matter. To admit how very much she wanted to leave with him too. Too bad that wouldn’t be appropriate.

Kenzie pushed her laptop out of the way, resting her arms on her desk and her chin on her arms. She didn’t know why she was trying to work. She hadn’t gotten any done for the last two days.

Her bedroom wall stared back at her, the off-white texture not giving her any answers. Every time she tried to do something, anything, even basic things like sleeping, thoughts of Scott haunted her. His arm wrapped around her while she drifted off. Waking up with his chest pressed against her back. His finger on her lips before he faded back into the crowds at the masquerade.

The wounded pain in his eyes. How very much she just needed to walk away but couldn’t.

Something tickled her thoughts, but she couldn’t place it. It nudged and nagged until she grabbed it. A way out, maybe?

Things were going well, right? No public incidents, Cartee had said himself at the charity auction that things were better. So that meant she was probably almost done. She could transfer the contract to someone new, say it was in maintenance mode. Or cancel it altogether. If the issue was resolved, there was no reason for her to stay on, right? He’d proved he could clean up when the situation called for it. He knew how to behave. He was absolutely charming when he wanted to be.

He was everything perfect. And if she could just get out of that damn contract, maybe they had a chance together. If he was even still interested in her.

It was the most soothing thought she’d had since they parted ways after the auction. She smiled and turned her head, resting her cheek on her arms and letting the possibilities flit through her thoughts. They would be incredible together at formal parties. He had looked amazing in that tux. The thought tugged something unpleasant, but she pushed away the nagging. More clothes shopping. That had been fun.

The nagging grew, but she couldn’t tell what it was attached to.

Her computer chimed, and she forced the fantasy away.

A message from Zach.

We need to talk. I’d expect this from Scott, but not you.

Nausea slipped through her, and her temple throbbed. What the hell? She was reaching for her phone when her email chimed again. This time it was a message from Greta.

I need you in my office this afternoon. Tell me when you’re available, I’ll make time.

A link to a gaming forum followed the message. She clicked through, curiosity mingling with unfocused dread as the page loaded. Her eyes grew wide at what she saw, and her stomach lurched. Oh shit. What had they done?

The forum thread was titled:
Why I rly wnt 2 b a game designer.

And it was full of photos from the charity dinner. The amazing costumes, the fantastic fun. The black-skinned drow she’d dressed as tucked in a dark hallway, Scott’s finger on her lip, the two of them looking very much just seconds from kissing. Then another shot of their lips pressed together, his hand on her lower back, her palms resting on his chest.

Enough evidence that she’d been intimate with a client to jeopardize her job. A mile-long string of profanities raced through her thoughts. How had that gotten on camera? Damn it, why had she let herself fall into this?

Panic pounded through her, overriding reason as she dove into reactionary mode. She had to fix this. She couldn’t let it impact her job.

She tried to call Zach, but went straight to voice mail. She hung up before the beep, not sure what to say. She replied to Greta, saying she’d be there in half an hour.

She forwarded the message with links to Scott and included her own message.

Never again.

She scurried to dress and pull her hair back so she could get into the office. Her email chimed again with a reply from Scott.

Fine with me.

She snarled at her laptop and slammed it shut. Fury and hurt screamed through her veins. The finality in those three words. Her stomach rolled in on itself as she walked out the door. He didn’t get to have the last word in this. She slipped in her earpiece and dialed his number as she headed to her car. Her heels scuffed against the concrete. She didn’t care.

“What?” His gruff voice greeted her.

“That’s my question.” She slid into her car, letting every bit of her frustration pour into her voice. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Really?” Anger and disbelief poured through the receiver. “You called to bitch me out, instead of, oh, I don’t know, admitting this was a shared moment? Or if I really mean that little to you, doing damage control?”

“Damage control.” She spit the phrase out in disgust. She pulled onto the road, maneuvering through traffic. “I don’t have an emergency contingency plan for you being a careless fuckup. Just because you never wanted to do this publicity thing doesn’t give you the right to waste my time and your company’s money. You may have gotten me fired. Do you even care?”

“Do I even care?” His laugh was short and harsh. “What a funny thing for you to ask. So this is still all about business? About your career?” His snide tone assaulted her ears.

There was something hidden in the question, there always was with him, but she couldn’t figure out what. “And yours.”

“You’re lying. And you’re so far removed from the professional you’re pretending to be right now, it’s not even funny.”

She gritted her teeth at the accusation, hissing inwardly at the part of her that asked if he had a point. “How dare you? You arrogant, presumptuous asshole.”

“Right, of course. This is all on me.” His tone slid into that mocking calm that meant he was backing down because he thought she was being stubborn, not because he knew she was right. “Zach wants to talk to you. And me. I assume that means we won’t have to work together anymore. That should come as a relief to you.”

“Damn straight.”

“I’d say it was nice working with you, Miss Carter.” Fake charm dripped from his voice. “But I’d be lying. Goodbye.”

The line clicked dead before she could respond, but fortunately also before her sob slipped out. She gripped the steering wheel until her fingers ached. She maneuvered to the side of the road and turned on her emergency lights, putting the car in park. The leather was hot against her forehead as she leaned into it. She breathed deep, struggling to calm down. His parting words echoed in her head, threatening to evict her breakfast, and unshed tears stung her eyes. What had just happened?

*

Anger, hurt, betrayal. Scott didn’t know which emotion he wanted to focus on. Whichever made him the most miserable and distracted him from the distinct ache in his chest. The conversation echoed in his head, mocking him, throbbing against his skull. He slammed his fist into his couch, letting the padding absorb the impact, and disappointed it hadn’t hurt more. At least then he’d have a focus for his … everything.

He couldn’t do this anymore. He didn’t know when he’d started falling for her, but it was agonizingly obvious it didn’t work both ways. It was time to stop pretending otherwise. He grabbed his phone.

“The board is not happy with you,” Zach greeted him before the first ring finished.

Fuck the board. He rolled his eyes. “You mean Cartee isn’t happy with me. I have a solution, I want her gone.”

“That will work splendidly with the people wondering if you hired her because you were sleeping with her.”

Scott snarled, anger and frustration spilling from him. “I wanted to send her packing the first day she showed up in the office. You hired her.”

Zach sighed. “Not that it matters, but you’re right. Still, firing her doesn’t fix anything.”

“Neither does keeping her on. Neither did hiring her.” Scott hated it when they hit a wall. He could plow through almost anyone’s bullshit, but talking over Zach took a talent he didn’t know if he had the patience for right now. “I don’t even care. Tell them it was my fault, that you’re picking the next one, whatever.”

“Cartee isn’t the only one who’s upset.”

Those words sent a chill through Scott. He had to force himself to ask for details. “Oh?”

“All you had to do was play along. Pretend you’d taken this edict seriously.” Zach’s tone was weary. “It was so simple. And now instead, you’ve spit in the board’s face—shown them you think you’re above their requests, that you’re so arrogant that you can fuck around instead of complying with a simple request—and they’re considering Cartee’s call for a vote to fire you.”

Scott flopped back against the couch, head hitting the cushion hard and stars dancing in front of his eyes, blurring his view of the ceiling. “Shit.”

“Meet me somewhere.” Zach’s sigh filled the line, and in the background the click of a lighter bled through. “We need to talk about this face to face.”

Was it actually that serious? No. Scott was so done playing nice. Bowing to people. Surrendering everything he believed in just for someone to try and steal his company at the end of the day. “I have work to do.”

“Scott.”

“Zach.” He spit his best friend’s name back, tired of the conversation. “Fire her. Bring someone else on if it floats your boat. I have contracts to read.”

He disconnected before he could get any argument. He was done with Kenzie. She didn’t want him around and he was fine with that. Or maybe he would be if the gaping hole in his chest ever mended.

But in the meantime, he knew there were fail-safe’s built into every board member’s agreement to keep things like this from happening. He might not be able to save his personal life, but he could sure as hell try and find a way to evict Cartee from his professional one.