Conflict of Interest (19 page)

He pushed aside the gnawing ache in his chest pleading with him to call her, to make it right. She didn’t want him in her bed or anywhere in her life. He didn’t care. Not at all. Not one single little bit.

He draped his arm over his forehead, blocking out the world. Fuck.

He pushed himself up, staring at his laptop, the forum images taunting him of the shared moment—probably the last time he’d get to kiss that amazing woman. The realization devoured him.

Something caught his eye, and he took a closer look. The photo had crappy resolution, like it had been taken from a distance. A phone probably, which didn’t surprise him. But that wasn’t what mattered. It was the user name on the post.

A screen name he’d seen dozens of times during beta tests. One of the perks of being a board member was Cartee’s kid always got a first look at what they were putting out.

Hank’s son had posted the photos. Scott snarled and punched the couch again. That son of a bitch had set him up.

Too bad he didn’t know what to do with the information. He sank back into the cushions again, fury, hurt, and resignation flooding him and making his limbs heavy.

His phone buzzed at his side. He didn’t want to talk to anyone else. Still, he grabbed it, irritation swelling inside when he saw who it was. It would probably serve him to ignore the call, but this was one person he didn’t mind taking his frustration out on.

His tone was flat when he answered. “It’s not my birthday or Christmas, what’s the occasion?”

A smooth, confident voice replied, “I just wanted to talk to my son. Is that a crime?”

“I don’t know, Dad. Is it?” On second thought, this had been a bad idea. His father never called him out of the blue. Why today? Of all the days in the entirety of his adult life, why now?

“It’s nice to hear from you too.” There was no sarcasm in the older man’s voice. It was implied in the flat response. “But since you’re insisting there must be something wrong, I heard you were having some business problems.”

Scott’s eyes narrowed, a sick feeling swimming through him. Something wasn’t right. The entire day wasn’t right, but this was just completely out there. “Where did you hear that?”

“Brokers, traders. Whispers are starting to run through Wall Street.”

Scott clenched his jaw. He was being lied to. “We’re not publicly traded. Wall Street doesn’t give a rat’s ass about us.”

A loud sigh echoed through the receiver. “All right. I had lunch with an old friend, Hank Cartee. Apparently you two do business together?”

Scott choked back his disbelief. “What?”

“He mentioned things aren’t going your way right now.”

Scott stared at the forum name in front of him, too many thoughts swirling in his head to make sense of them.

“I’m not surprised you’re in trouble.” His father’s voice was distant, but as condescending as ever. “You’ve gotten in over your head this time. It would be in your best interest to have someone else step in and take the reins.”

A growl slipped out, and Scott didn’t try and hide it. Rage screamed through him. “Thanks. I’m fine.” He disconnected and threw his phone aside. He grabbed his laptop, fingers flying over the keyboard as he dug deeper into Hank’s past than he ever had before. He followed thread after thread of where his money came from, who he knew, and who he associated with.

His phone buzzed again, and he shut it off without looking. This was going to take a while, and he didn’t need any more interruptions.

* * * *

Kenzie sat in the chair outside Greta’s office, toes tapping inside her shoes, fingers drumming on her knees. A gaping ache throbbed in her chest, and she hadn’t been able to make it go away, regardless of how hard she tried to push Scott’s words from her mind.

It didn’t matter. She still had a job to do, and that included damage control. As much for herself as anyone. She’d spin the pictures as harmless—part of being in character, of fitting in at the charity auction. She could get the word out right, and people would know she was professional enough she hadn’t crossed that line.

Her chest ached in response to the thought, and she took a deep breath.

“Come on in.” Greta stood in the doorway, nodding into the office.

Kenzie pasted her most professional smile in place and took a seat across from the other woman’s desk. Her gut sank further at the sound of a latching door behind her. It needed to be a private meeting, she knew that, but it still made her nervous.

“I’ve got an entire plan to correct this.” The words tumbled past Kenzie’s lips the moment Greta was seated. “It’s based largely on the emergency contingency we outlined. I’ll get counter posts out immediately, explanations, I can have a formal proposal in front of you in sixty minutes, and—”

Greta held up a hand, cutting her off. “I have someone else working on that already based on the plans you’ve laid out in the past. We have more important things to discuss.”

“Someone else is working my contract?” Kenzie frowned. It was what she’d wanted just a couple of hours ago, but she’d wanted it on her terms. This wasn’t right.

Greta wouldn’t meet her gaze, attention focused on her computer instead. “The client requested you be removed. Not that we could have let you stay on given the situation. We’ve also pulled you out of the rotation for any new jobs.”

Rinslet had already fired her? Kenzie’s stomach threatened to revolt. And she was being suspended. That wasn’t fair. She hadn’t even been given a chance to make it right. “Can I ask why?”

Greta glanced at her, eyebrow raised. “Really? This isn’t about the client’s image, it’s about ours. We don’t cross that line. I thought you of all people understood that. You were even warned.”

“I didn’t—” The denial froze in her throat; she couldn’t make herself say it. She couldn’t force out the insistence that it wasn’t what it looked like. “I can fix it. Just give me a chance.” She heard and hated the pleading in her own voice, but she couldn’t let this get away from her.

Greta locked her gaze on her. “I need to know, is it what it looks like?”

Of course it was. Hell, it was so much more. But could she throw away her entire career for that? On the other hand, could she deny how she actually felt? What if Scott didn’t feel the same way? She just knew she couldn’t deny it. Even thinking about doing that made her ill.

Greta sighed. “You’re being audited. All of your accounts, all of your interactions. You won’t be given any new jobs until a determination is made. I know this isn’t like you, so I don’t know what happened. I’m hoping your record will speak for itself and give me some leeway, but it may not be my decision in the end. You’re a well-known face for this company, and he’s a well-known face in his industry, and with those photos out there, the general public knows one of our people crossed a very distinct line.”

Kenzie stared at her clenched hands resting in her lap, knuckles white. She felt like a child being scolded. Her voice was quiet. “I understand.”

Kenzie lay on her side, staring at her clock and watching the minutes tick away. Seven a.m.

7:01.

7:02.

She should get out of bed. Dress, get ready for the day. But for what? She didn’t even know. She didn’t have any meetings. May never have another meeting again.

She rolled her eyes at a knock on her bedroom door. “Go away.”

Riley poked her head in the room. “I haven’t seen you for days. Are you avoiding me? Oh geez, Kenz, what’s wrong?”

The mattress shifted with the weight of a new body.

Kenzie sighed and rolled over, looking up at her sister sitting next to her, back against the headboard, studying her with concern.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Kenzie’s lie came out as a dry croak.

Riley raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Liar.”

Kenzie pulled her comforter over her head. It was stifling under the covers, but she didn’t want to face anyone. “Go away.”

Riley yanked the blankets back. “No.”

Kenzie glared at her, eyes narrow, trying to pour as much irritation into the expression as she could.

Riley stared back, not blinking.

Kenzie shook her head and rolled onto her side again, back to her sister. “I’m not talking about it.”

Silence. Kenzie almost looked, but she resisted the urge to see what her twin was up to.

“Then I’ll guess.” Riley said. “It couldn’t be because of the work thing because who would be upset about not having to work and still getting paid for it?”

Kenzie flopped back over, glaring at her sister. “I don’t get paid when I don’t work, and yes, the ‘work thing’ sucks.”

The corner of Riley’s mouth pulled up. “So you can say more than just ‘go away.’”

Kenzie rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll tell you what’s wrong. The day you moved in, I approached some guy in a coffee shop that I’d seen almost every weekend but never dared talk to before. And then I continued the cycle of doing things I never do.” Her throat constricted as she spit out the words, the memories stinging her eyes.

“And my life has been out of control ever since.” Her voice cracked, and she bit back a sob. She hated him for that. Or herself. Or someone. For the way he’d made her feel, for the mistakes she’d made because of it, for not being able to forget it regardless of how badly it had screwed everything up.

Riley reached down and brushed a strand of hair off Kenzie’s forehead. Her voice was soft, sympathetic. “Has it really been that bad? I had no idea, I’m sorry.”

“Yes, no, I don’t know.” Kenzie forced herself to sit up, focusing on not crying.

“So you two aren’t a thing after all?” Riley plucked at a loose thread on the comforter. “Because he’s really hot.”

“No.” Kenzie hated the taste of the word. “We’re not.”

“Why not?”

Sometimes she hated how childlike her sister was. Irritation flooded her. “Because it’s not appropriate. Why do you even have to ask?”

“Don’t snap at me.” Riley’s playful expression vanished, replaced by pursed lips. “I’m tired of you acting like you’ve got a stick up your ass just because I have a different perspective on the world than you. You stash your entire salary in savings—an amazingly admirable thing to do—so you can retire young, but still insist on keeping it a secret, subsisting off Ramen and your expense account so everyone thinks you’re well-off.” She splayed out her fingers as she ticked off list points.

“And now you’re keeping your distance from a guy you didn’t take your eyes off the entire evening—who never took his eyes off you—at that party thing of his, because why? Because it’s not appropriate? Because he’s not as polished as you like your guys? He sure cleaned up well. Maybe you’re afraid you can’t get him to sustain that.”

Kenzie felt more ill as every thought she’d had about Scott spilled from her sister’s lips.

Riley looked at her, mouth twisted in disbelief. “Do you do anything because you want to and not because someone else told you it was appropriate?”

Kenzie pulled her blanket over her head, not wanting to see the accusation reflected at her. It was worse than looking in a mirror. “You don’t get it.”

“Then explain it to me,” Riley said.

“Just forget it.” It wasn’t worth the effort. “Get out.”

“Fine.” The mattress shifted again as Riley got up. “One more thing first?”

The change in her sister’s tone penetrated Kenzie’s haze of self-pity. She sat, curious gaze locked on Riley. “I’m listening.”

Riley stared back from the doorway, hesitation shining in her eyes. She took a deep breath. “No one knows this, so please don’t tell.”

Kenzie’s curiosity grew. “I promise.”

Riley fiddled with her fingers, running her thumb over each nail in order and then repeating the nervous gesture. “I left Archer, not the other way around.”

Kenzie’s eyes grew wide. She wasn’t sure why she was hearing the confession now, but even more she wondered, “Why didn’t you tell me? What happened?”

Riley gave a short laugh. “He proposed.”

“Wait, what?”

Riley shuffled her weight from one foot to the other, watching the carpet. “He proposed, I freaked out and left. I didn’t tell anyone because you all already think I’m this flake who can’t even keep a boyfriend, and this only proves it.”

Kenzie opened her mouth to offer some kind of denial and reassurance.

“I didn’t know why I told him no at the time.” Riley cut her off. “He’s nice enough, he’s kind—all the adjectives a guy should have. But…” She blew a strand of blonde off her forehead.

“Then I saw you and Scott at that investor dinner. The way his eyes never quite left you, the respect in his voice when he talked to you, the fact that you’re exactly the same way with him. Archer and I never had that. We might have some day, but seriously, I don’t think any of my friends—married, attached, whatever—look at each other with the kind of adoration he directed at you. And you’d sacrifice that because of some self-declared, impossibly immovable definition of what is and isn’t appropriate?”

A sharp pang dug into Kenzie’s chest and tears pricked her eyelids. “I don’t have a choice.”

Riley shrugged and turned away. “I don’t see a gun to your head.” She left, closing the door behind her, the latch clicking shut and echoing like a shot in Kenzie’s head.

Another layer of guilt sank over Kenzie. She’d known Riley wouldn’t understand. She never did. It had to be this way. There weren’t any other options. Her stomach clenched with despair, and her eyes burned.

As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t just lay around forever. She pushed herself out of bed, shuffled the few short feet to her desk, and dropped into the mesh chair. Riley’s words taunted her as she started her laptop.

Why was she even dwelling? That was what had gotten her in trouble in the first place—believing that life would be better if she learned how to let loose. A tiny part of her reminded her she probably wouldn’t have gotten to know Scott the way she had if it hadn’t been for that impulse.

She mentally scolded herself. Then she wouldn’t have fallen for him, wouldn’t have lost him, and wouldn’t be aching now.

She opened a web browser in autopilot. A blank search-engine screen stared back at her. What was she doing? She started typing in the search box, and the predictive results scrolled link after link to car dealerships.