Conflict of Interest

chapter 9


Kenzie’s front door pushed back when she tried to open it, and she had to lean into it to get inside. She sighed at the sight of her sister’s suitcases filling half the living room.

“Riley.” Her tired voice carried through the apartment. She didn’t need this tonight. Her brain was already fractured after dinner.

Her twin stuck her head out from the bathroom, a streak of bright pink running through her pale hair. “Hey. I thought you’d be out a lot longer.”

“Why does my living room look like a refugee camp?” Kenzie didn’t want to deal with this right now. Riley went through roommates and boyfriends—frequently the same thing in her case—like most people went through a large canister of sprouted wheat cereal. With hardcore enthusiasm at first, and then tossing it out after six months only half finished. Still, she had sworn there was something special this time and insisted that as soon as they made up, she’d be back in his arms and apartment again.

“Hang on.” Riley ducked back into the bathroom.

Kenzie pushed aside a duffel bag and sank onto the couch while she listened to the shower run.

About ten minutes later, Riley was perched on the edge of the chair next to her, not bothering to move the box occupying the rest of it. “What’s up?”

Kenzie nodded around the room. “Why is all of your crap violating my living room? I thought you were making up with Archer.”

Riley shrugged and twirled a strand of damp, violently pink hair around her finger. She still hadn’t specifically said what had happened between them. “It’s just a rough patch. Once he misses me enough, we’ll be fine again.”

Kenzie wanted to scold her for the color in her hair—Riley’s boss was going to hate that—or for the mess, or something, but she couldn’t find it in her. She had decisions to make, a future to consider, a lot of pondering about whether or not she was ever going to see Scott again. For work, of course. She stood, and bags toppled back in to fill her now vacant spot. “Whatever. Just, if you can, stack as much of it into the corner as will fit, please? I need to be able to move in here.”

Riley studied her for a moment, concern heavy in her blue eyes. “Are you all right?”

Kenzie shook her head. She wasn’t in the mood to be lectured about being frigid again. As far as she knew, her sister would have left with the knight in shining armor instead of sulking away in defeat. “But I’ll get over it.” She trudged into her bedroom, locked the door behind her, and collapsed on her bed. When had all of this become so tiring?

She was jarred awake by a pounding. She turned her head to the side until her eyes focused on the digital clock by her bed. She’d slept until nine? Her brain throbbed through her eyes, and her entire body felt like lead. Why was it still dark outside? Oh, right, she’d slept for about fifteen minutes. No wonder she felt like crap.

“You all right?” Heavy concern laced Riley’s question.

Kenzie pushed out of bed, wincing as the combs that had held her hair back dug into her scalp. She yanked them out, unlocked the door, and collapsed back onto her mattress with a loud sigh. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Riley took a seat next to her. “Are you sure? You seem high strung lately. Like even more than normal.”

“I don’t need this right now.” Kenzie flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. “What do you want?”

“You’re home early and you’re all dressed up. Comb your hair out and let’s go to the bar.”

She realized Riley was wearing a denim skirt that barely covered her ass and a hot pink tank top that matched the new streak in her hair. “I don’t think we’re dressed to go to the same kind of bar. Besides, I thought you were trying to make things better with Archer.”

“Better with Archer. Right.” Riley stood and grabbed her hand, tugging her to her feet. “We’re not going for me, we’re going for you. You look sexy tonight, sis. I’ll be your frumpy wingman. Wingwoman. Whatever. It’ll be fun.”

Kenzie smiled; it did sound like fun. She could meet a guy, ignore his horrid pickup lines, and actually live a little instead of trying and failing. Or at the very least she could hang with her sister and unwind, and if any a*shole implied she was a whore, she’d be within her rights to grind her stiletto into his toe and walk away. “All right, I’m in.”

* * * *

Kenzie propped her elbow on the bar and rested her chin in the palm of her hand. She tried to focus on the bottles lining the back wall instead of on Riley, who sat about six seats away, joking and laughing with a man who had bought her at least four drinks in the last hour.

Kenzie didn’t look up when someone took the stool next to her.

“You know,” his voice was warm and deep, with a hint of arrogance, “I don’t normally like women who are taller than me, but the way you wear those heels is just so sexy.”

She hid her wince and turned to face him. This was why she was here after all. He was certainly attractive—close-cut blond hair, pressed shirt, silk tie, and clear green eyes. She gave him a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“What’s your drink of choice tonight?” He nodded at her glass.

“Lime and tonic. I’m the designated driver.”

He winked at her. “You can drive me.”

Scott would have pulled that line off so much better. She hated herself for even thinking it. She needed to give this a chance, right? She was breaking away from the frigid and uptight her. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to have some simple fun with this guy. “You’re horrible.” She giggled and held out her hand. “I’m Kenzie, by the way.”

“Rod.” His grip was strong, almost uncomfortably so, and his palm was cold. “You don’t look like you’re enjoying yourself.”

It was her choice to accept or reject, she wasn’t the aggressor anymore. She could do this. “I’m doing better now.”

He ordered her another drink and himself a rum and Coke, paying for both. “So, Kenzie.” His gaze raked over her. “Gorgeous woman like you buying her own drinks? What gives?”

Her skin felt like it was going to crawl off at the leer. He reminded her too much of Cartee. Where was Scott when she needed him? She banished the thought as soon as it surfaced. “My sister.” She nodded over her shoulder. “Said I needed to unwind.” Damn it, she shouldn’t have said that. She knew what was coming even before he said anything. But maybe she’d be wrong. Please let her be wrong. She didn’t want to be disappointed even further.

He looked in the direction she was nodding. “Twins, huh? That’s hot.”

She resisted the urge to slap her forehead. Nope, he’d said it. Why the hell did guys think sisters making out was sexy? “Not so much.” She slid off her stool. “I need to be somewhere else.”

“Wait.” His cold palm against her arm made her skin recoil. “I’m sorry. I’m nervous, you know? Beautiful woman, so I’m trying to play it cool.”

“Yeah, probably a mistake.” She sat anyway. “How about you being you? I like guys who are themselves.” Like Scott. The name echoed in her skull, and she pushed it away. Scott was a child playing the part she told him to. And not even willingly or well. Except for that suit he’d worn to dinner… No that was a bad path to go down. That was business, this was fun.

“I can do honesty. How about this? I’m really not into the random strangers or doing the one-night-stand thing, so I’m trying to pretend I’ll be okay if you don’t call me in the morning, but I’d really like to get to know you better.”

He wanted something long-term, how sweet. She kept her smile pasted in place. Maybe if she pretended to enjoy the conversation, she’d start to believe it was true. He was attractive. He’d hold up to professional scrutiny; she could do the same for him. And then she’d have an excuse to turn Scott down. Not that she needed an excuse. It wasn’t like she couldn’t control herself around him.

She realized he was watching her. Crap, had he said something? He must have, he was waiting for a response. “Beg your pardon?”

He pushed his drink away and stepped from his stool, offering his arm. “It’s a little loud here. Do you want to go somewhere else so we can talk?”

“That sounds nice.” She slipped her hand into his arm, searching for the familiar rush of meeting someone new. It wasn’t there. She was probably still too wired from dinner. She fell into step beside him as he led her outside. The night air and silence rushed in around them, and for a moment she thought she’d gone deaf.

She hesitated.

He looked at her, curious. “Are you all right?”

“No, I’m sorry.” She dropped her hand, letting it hang limply by her side. “I…” She trailed off. What was wrong with her? “I can’t after all. Have a wonderful night.”

She turned toward the parking lot without waiting for a response. She pulled out her phone while she walked and sent her sister a quick message. She didn’t want to ruin Riley’s night too. I have to bail, I’m sorry. Call a cab. I’ll pay you back for it.