Conflict of Interest

chapter 15


Scott drummed his fingers against his keyboard, clacking against the keys and spewing random letters across his code. He should clean that up. Not that it mattered. He hadn’t written anything usable since Kenzie had left anyway.

He was still furious about the way she’d stormed out, but worse, he was upset at himself for letting it happen. He’d slipped one too many times with her. He’d tipped his hand and at the same time forced hers. As much as he wished she felt even half for him what he felt for her, she still saw a distinct line between their physical and professional relationships.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. What would it take to get her back? He’d stop everything, the fooling around, the flirting, all of it, if he could at least apologize to her. Maybe get her to stay on and finish her contract.

He grabbed his desk phone, dialing her number from memory. It rang once, twice. He sighed. Please let her answer.

“This is Mackenzie.” Her tone sent ice over the line.

He slid into his business-meeting voice. “Miss Carter. Good afternoon.”

Her exhale was loud against the receiver. “I’ve had better. What can I do for you?”

He flinched at her removed response. Would she even listen if he begged for forgiveness? “I think we parted ways on a bad note.”

“What gave you that impression?”

He hated what he was about to do, but at least knowing she didn’t hate him would be something, even if he couldn’t actually have more. “That was my fault. I haven’t been fair to you.”

Silence.

He let a bitter smile show for his invisible audience. “I’d like to set things right. Have lunch with me tomorrow.”

More silence.

He could wait longer.

“I assume your associates will be there?” she asked.

He glared at the phone. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

Her reply was devoid of emotion. “You’re not that sorry if you’re still peddling this fake dating crap.”

He swallowed the slash her words cut through him. “Of course, my mistake. Yes, all of our consultants are invited.”

He intentionally neglected to mention Rae was the only other one they kept on payroll, and she was so buried in end-of-month reporting, she’d beg off something frivolous like lunch.

More silence.

He kept his mouth shut.

“Sounds great.” Her tone implied it sounded anything but. “Email me a meeting request, I’ll try and make room in my schedule.”

“Wonderful. Enjoy the rest of your day, Miss Carter.”

He hated that the situation required such an intense formality. But he was willing to keep doing it if it meant she’d be around long enough so he could figure out how to not need it. Something in his chest fluttered that she’d said yes, and somehow that made it better.

* * * *

Nervous energy thrummed through Kenzie as she approached the restaurant. The parking lot was packed, but experience told her it wouldn’t matter—they wouldn’t have to wait. And the reason why was on the sidewalk pacing near the front door.

Scott looked up as she approached, a smile twitching into place and then vanishing again in an instant.

She cursed the leap in her stomach, hiding the happy reaction behind a flat expression, and nodded at him.

“We have a problem.” His voice didn’t give anything away.

“We have a lot of them.” She hid her wince. She hadn’t meant to be antagonistic.

He raised an eyebrow. “Nice. I mean my timing was bad. Everyone else cancelled.”

Go figure. She wasn’t surprised or nearly as irritated as she wanted to be. In fact, if she weren’t ignoring it, she might have admitted she’d hoped and expected exactly that. “Everyone else. Rae?” He flinched. “How convenient.”

He shrugged. “I’m sorry to drag you all the way out here for nothing. I should let you get back to your pliable clients. It wouldn’t do for us to be unchaperoned. What would people say?”

Why was she even letting him get away with this? It had nothing to do with how good he looked in the navy button-down and dark jeans, or the snippets of memory taunting her from the weekend, of waking up in his arms. Or because despite the professional risk, she so desperately wanted an intimacy from him that went beyond sex. “We’re here, we might as well stay. I’m sure you can behave yourself in public just this once.”

He gave her a wilting smile. “I might find a way.”

Why did they have to do this? When had they become incapable of having a normal conversation that didn’t end in frustration?

He refused to make eye contact when they were seated, but was happy to talk to everyone else, including a lengthy discussion about the special with the waitress.

Then they were alone again. Scott traced the patterns on the table.

“So.” Kenzie didn’t like the silence. She could make small talk, right? Something simple. Non-inflammatory. “It’s too bad Rae couldn’t make it. The two of you have this synergy that’s fascinating to watch.” She felt a twinge of jealousy toward the other woman simply because Rae and Scott never had to hide their interactions. What would it be like to be open about how she felt about him? How she didn’t dare hope he felt about her?

The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn’t look at her. “I’m glad I could entertain you. Synergy. Did you pull that from a buzzword thesaurus?”

“You know what I mean. You just click.”

He finally glanced up. “We grew up together. She and Zach are pretty much the reason I survived adolescence.”

That genuine joy was back in his face when he talked about it. The smile, the gleam in his eye. She so rarely saw that when… She bit back a sigh. When she was the focus of the conversation. “That must be nice.”

He studied her for a minute. “You’ve got something similar with Riley, right?”

She shook her head. “Riley is a selfish pest.”

He winked at her. “So the two of you have that in common.”

She twisted her mouth in irritation. “Thanks.”

“You know I’m teasing.” He reached over the table, brushed his thumb over her knuckles, and pulled back abruptly as if he’d been shocked. “Sorry.”

She wanted to tell him it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. “The thing about Riley is she’s always telling me I have to loosen up. That I’m too uptight, I need to unwind, stuff like that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Gee, it must be tough having someone dictate how you should act. I can’t imagine.”

She took a sip of her water. “It’s different with you. You’re my job.”

“So you keep saying.”

This wasn’t going well. “About the other night.” She fingered the pendant at the base of her throat. “Or rather, the other morning. I should have been more diplomatic.”

His brow creased. “Is that difficult?”

“What?” She didn’t know what he was talking about.

“Apologizing without actually accepting responsibility?”

The words stung, but she knew she deserved it. She gave a sad smile. “As long I don’t have to admit I was wrong.”

His chuckle sounded forced and ended in a sigh. “So, we have to scale this back to completely professional.”

“Yes.”

“No more sex, seduction, secret meetings.”

It was harder to force out her “Exactly” than she expected. “But we can still stay friends.”

“Are we really?”

She looked at him, unable to ignore the combination of hurt and question in his eyes. “Friends? Of course.”

“So, if I randomly called you for a cup of coffee, you’d say yes?”

Why did she feel like this was a setup? But there was nothing deceptive in his face. “Of course. As long as I was available.”

His smile was weak. “Of course.”

This was devouring her. She just wanted to dive into his arms. To bury her head in his chest. To pretend everything was all right between them. Her heart thudded, and she frowned. “I’m so sorry. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“Me too.” He fiddled with his fork. “So this charity dinner, you’re coming right?”

She hadn’t expected the rapid shift in topic. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

The corner of his mouth pulled up in that half smile that so frequently disarmed her. “You have to come. It’s a massive industry affair, it’s for an amazing cause, and the theme this year is masquerade.”

And that joy was back in his eyes that didn’t show through very often. That enthusiasm that always made her want to know more. This time it also increased her guilt. She’d never investigated the dinner since it was private and casual, and she figured she’d have more luck asking him to behave in his own living room. “I shouldn’t admit this, but I don’t know what it’s for.”

He leaned in, intertwined fingers resting on the table. “It’s this auction, right? Everyone in the industry donates rare and one-of-a-kind items, someone donates the catering and the building, and every single cent, from the door price to the money raised, goes to schools with low budgets so they can give their kids access to technology and more basic things like books and supplies.”

“Oh.” The entire concept made his smile infectious. “I could be on board for that. But masquerade? I don’t even dress up for Halloween.”

“Of course you don’t.” There was no accusation in his voice. “This is easy though. You just have to come as your favorite game character.”

“Uh…” That was going to be a problem. “So first of all, I don’t really game, you know that, so I don’t have a favorite anything. And second, most female game characters don’t wear a lot of clothing.”

He didn’t look deterred. “If you know that much, you can figure out the rest. And it’s true. About half the women there will be wearing the equivalent of a swim suit, and the other half will find an alternative or pick male characters. Then again, the same could be said about the men. Expect to see your share of hairy chests in chainmail bikinis.”

She twisted her mouth, hoping to hide her amusement behind disgust. “I don’t even want to picture that.”

“You don’t have to.” He winked. “Say you’ll be there, and you can live it for yourself. I promise it’s not a date or anything.” He added quickly. “I just…”

She studied him when he didn’t finish the thought. This type of uncertainty was so rare for him. “Yes?”

He didn’t look at her. “Come see that I’m not the a*shole screwup you think I am and enjoy a fantastic night for a good cause at the same time.”

The doubt and self-effacing ate at her. “I don’t think you’re an a*shole screwup.”

He looked at her, one eyebrow raised, mouth twisted in disbelief. “Yeah, okay.”

Those two words gnawed at something inside. She pushed her lunch away, suddenly not hungry. It completely devoured her that the rift between them seemed irreparable.