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Would it ever get easier to approach those giant glass walls that exposed the office to the rest of the world with no shame? Kenzie pushed the question aside. It didn’t matter. After today she’d never do it again.
The receptionist glanced up as she approached, smile not as friendly as it had been in the past, but still polite. “Mr. Johnston says you can go on back.”
Mr. Johnston. That didn’t bode well. Kenzie returned the smile, hoping her nervousness didn’t show. She couldn’t tell Scott what she’d figured out, not that he would take her calls anyway, but she couldn’t face him. Still, she had to tell someone and Zach seemed like as good an option as anything, so she’d set up a meeting with him.
She reached the office. It was the same basic layout as Scott’s, but instead of industry awards, artwork, and framed magazine articles on the walls, it was sterile like the lobby. Her feet froze to the floor when she saw one of the two chairs across from Zach’s desk was already occupied.
Zach stood and gestured to the empty chair. “Miss Carter. I hope you don’t mind, we’re in the middle of some serious planning, but I’ve got time for you. Have a seat.”
Scott never looked at her. She struggled not to stare at his back, the T-shirt with a faded Sonic the Hedgehog, the torn jeans, everything that indicated he was him and not playing the role he’d been forced into. “Thank you, but I’ll stand if that’s all right. I won’t take long.”
Zach clasped his hands behind his back, rocking on his toes. “Suit yourself. What can I do for you?”
She opened her mouth, and her entire rehearsed speech evaporated from her thoughts. She hadn’t meant to do this in front of Scott. He wasn’t meant to hear this. What if he hated her for it?
Zach watched her expectantly.
She was going to have to say something. “I think you made a mistake hiring me.” The words tumbled out before she knew what she was going to say. She wanted to flinch, but she was afraid if she stopped talking, she’d never be able to start again. “Not me specifically, but in general.”
Zach raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.
“You have a brilliant designer, developer, director, person driving the creative half of this company.” She forced herself not to look at Scott the entire time. “Regardless of what some suit on the board of directors says, he makes you what you are. And you can’t make him conform just because people say he should. You can’t stifle him.”
She took a deep breath, hating the silence in the room. Should she say more? What else was she going to say? Short of proclaiming how very desperately she personally wished she could take it all back, if only she had recognized how she felt about him sooner ... but that wasn’t for public consumption. Or at least, not unless they both felt the same way.
Zach looked away from her, gaze falling to Scott, something unreadable in his expression.
She followed his line of sight, staring at the back of the impassive head.
Scott stood and turned, face a blank mask. His voice was cold, lined with a sharp edge. “It’s my understanding, Miss Carter, that your company has assigned someone else to work with me.”
At his request. Kenzie swallowed, the lack of emotion devouring her as much as the formality. “That’s correct.”
Scott’s smile looked like it had been chiseled from ice. “Your employer might not appreciate you undermining their work. Especially since, if I’m correct, you still got paid.”
The words sliced through her. She’d expected a lot of reactions, but not to be told she was wrong. To have her concession thrown back in her face. She opened her mouth to protest.
Scott cut her off. “You were right to begin with, Miss Carter. This is for the best. You can see yourself out, I assume?”
Hurt coursed through her, making every inch of her ache. “Yes. I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
His expression cracked, but she didn’t stay to see if it crumbled. She spun on her toe, making a straight line for the exit and hoping she could hold back the tears until she was alone in her car.
*
AFTER KENZIE LEFT, Scott dropped back into the chair, her words bouncing around in his skull, echoing with sincerity. Fuck, why did she have to do that? He was trying to forget how very much he wanted her, and she had to go and say those awful, kind words that made him want her even more, and still weren’t enough to convince him she felt the same.
It had devoured him to be so cold, but she was only interested in making professional amends—he couldn’t let himself believe otherwise, it already hurt too much. It was better this way. She was gone now, and he could begin what was already an agonizing process of getting over her. If he could.
Zach sat down too, a heavy sigh echoing through the room. “God, you’re an ass sometimes.”
Scott glared at him. “I didn’t ask you.”
Zach shrugged. “Which is funny, because I didn’t ask to play middleman in some twisted kind of lovers’ spat. We don’t always get what we want.”
“That’s clever. Did you steal that off a Hallmark card?” Scott couldn’t keep the snide from his question. “Seriously? What was the point of even hiring her? Cartee completely turned it against me. That’s going to cost me a fortune.”
“Your girl did her job and she did it well, aside from a couple indiscretions. Don’t blame this on her.” Zach drummed his fingers on the desk, rolling a loose cigarette back and forth across his knuckles.
“My girl?” The term crawled under Scott’s skin, filling him with a despair he didn’t understand.
Zach’s expression didn’t shift. “You’re sure you want to take care of Cartee alone? Rae showed me the numbers. It’s going to kill you to buy him out.”
The clause they’d written into every investor’s agreement. The one that allowed them to buy the person out for a fixed percentage above their original investment in exchange for removing them from the board of directors. The insurance they’d built in to make sure they didn’t lose their company again. “I’m sure. This really is my fault. I won’t let you pay for that.”
Zach pursed his lips. “You really are a childish, spoiled brat. Even when you’re taking responsibility, you have to play the martyr to prove a point.”
Scott shrugged, wishing the words didn’t hurt so much. “Frequently. And?”
“You got what you wanted, and in the end you get to do it your way, regardless of the cost. She’s gone, you keep your job, and that painful irritation who calls himself Hank Cartee will be out of our lives.
“And you still look like someone shot your dog. You’re not going to let a silly little girl saying things you’ve already proven distract you from that victory are you?”
He couldn’t ignore it anymore. Scott knew what he wanted and for the first time in a long time, he suspected she was the one thing he couldn’t have. “Yeah, I probably am.”
“You love her.”
Love. Was that what this was? If so, it hurt like hell. And he never wanted to lose it. “Pretty sure, yeah.”
Zach’s mask slipped, a whisper of a smile leaking in. “You going after her?”
Not likely. “She doesn’t want me.”
“You’re a moron. Of course she wants you.”
She didn’t. She couldn’t. Not after everything that had happened between them. She hadn’t even called him personally to share her “revelation.” She’d gone to his business partner. Kept it public so—he could only assume—she wouldn’t have to face how he might feel personally.
*
KENZIE SAT IN HER CAR staring at the roof, not able to bring herself to leave the parking garage. Tears stung her eyelids, and her throat was raw. She was never going to see him again. Not after the way he’d dismissed her moments earlier.
And it was her fault. So many things she never should have done. Taken the contract. Denied how attracted she was to him. Convinced herself she’d be happy hiding something as amazing from the world as what she felt for him.
Not that any of that mattered now. Not that she’d recognized it before it was too late. Still, she could do one more thing. She could at least take responsibility for her part in what had happened. If nothing else, she could stop pretending he was the only guilty party.
She wouldn’t even deserve the memories if she couldn’t admit that. Before the thoughts finished forming, she was dialing.
“Hey.” Greta’s abrupt voice greeted her. “What’s up?”
“This thing, this suspension.” Kenzie dove right in. It was the best way to get it out, and Greta would appreciate the direct approach. “It’s my fault.”
“Really?”
Kenzie didn’t know how to interpret the question, so she just kept talking. “I mean, obviously, it takes two people, right? But I had been involved with the client before they signed me, and I should have said no then, or handed responsibility over to someone else at so many other points along the way. I’m sorry.”
“Hmm.”
That wasn’t good. Kenzie waited, toe tapping faster with each second of silence that stretched between them.
“You’re sure,” Greta finally said.
What was Kenzie missing? “Positive.”
“Here’s the thing.” Greta’s voice softened. “Your it takes two was in here a couple of days ago, telling me personally that this was all his fault. That he sabotaged everything and set you up to fail.”
Her heart stopped, and then kick started again, hammering against her ribs as she tried to make sense of it. “He said that?”
Greta laughed. “He also quoted contract at me when he told me he wouldn’t allow any disputes to go beyond arbitration. And asked if you could have your job back. He’s a force to be reckoned with, isn’t he?”
She felt a smile forming for the first time in days, but it was subdued by the reality that it didn’t matter what he’d done or why, she’d still never see him again. “He is.”
“So here’s the deal,” Greta said. “I can consider this conversation off the record. We can say it never happened if you’d like to agree to his version of events.”
That would be convenient. Solve a lot of issues. Except the big outstanding one. Kenzie shook her head at the empty car. “I can’t do that. I’m as much to blame as anyone. All I can say is it won’t happen again.” Because just then she couldn’t imagine ever getting over Scott.
“I understand.” Greta sounded sad. “I don’t know if I can do anything for you if that’s the case, but your record still speaks in your favor. I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything.”
“Thanks.” Kenzie disconnected and tossed her phone back in her purse. She still ached deep inside, and she hated the empty pit, but at least she’d finally stopped hiding things from everyone, including herself.