Conflict of Interest (17 page)

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 asshole 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 asshole 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.

Scott laughed along with an executive from one company, a head developer, and an enthusiastic fan. He tried to focus on the conversation, but his attention kept drifting to the door. He should have known Kenzie wouldn’t come. They weren’t exactly on the best terms, and her insistence they were still friends had been weak.

Still, he’d hoped she might buy in for such a great cause. Or for work.

He adjusted his battle dress uniform and fingered the fake scar on his face. At least his Solid Snake costume was drawing positive attention. And people were already asking him if he had another in-the-box, never-played video game system from a decade or more ago to auction off. Last year it had been an N64; this year he’d managed to dig up an Atari 2600.

A murmur ran through the room, catching Scott’s attention. He snagged snippets of “no way” and “hot”, drawing his attention to the door.

The woman near the entrance was tall. In the four-inch stilettos she was probably a hint taller than him. The back latex covering her skin and matching face paint obstructed who she was. But the way the black miniskirt hugged her waist, the wide gold belt, the gold bikini top, the blonde hair falling around her shoulders and down her back … Scott knew exactly who it was.

Unless she’d sent her twin in her place, but he doubted that.

“Drow’s not a video game character,” a man nearby complained.

“Invitation said game character,” a woman corrected him. “Besides, she’s hot. I’m not complaining.”

Scott bit back a smile, eyes meeting Kenzie’s across the room. Her expression remained flat, and she made a straight line to him, not pausing for anyone.

Scott still couldn’t take his eyes off her. Wow. She’d showed. And please let her leave alone if it wasn’t with him. She stopped next to them, nodding at his colleagues. “Males.” Her voice rang heavy with disdain. “Fellow warrior.” She nodded at the head programmer, a woman from a competing company.

And she was in character too. Scott resisted the urge to play along and drop to one knee, asking how he could please his queen.

She looked at him again, expression cold. “You will speak with me now.”

A round of snickers erupted around him. He didn’t care. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Lucky bastard,” someone else muttered as they walked away.

He followed her toward an emptier corner of the room, gaze traveling up her bare back—well, latex-covered—struggling not to close the distance between them. Half the eyes in the room were on them, and she’d definitely smack him for real. They ducked out through a side door, but the cool night air on his face didn’t push away the heat in his veins.

His voice was heavy, but he managed to keep the teasing hint present. “So, am I supposed to kiss your boots, my queen? Because I’m fully prepared to do so.”

She finally faced him again, panic heavy in her blue eyes and stern expression gone. “Oh, gawd, I can’t believe I let Riley talk me into this. Everyone in there was staring. I should have worn something else. Something less … let-my-assets-hang-out.”

“Whoa.” He forced his hand to stay by his side, worried if he reached for her he wouldn’t be able to stop. “You look amazing, you’re wearing more than half the people in there, and you’re blending. I swear.”

She scowled. “I saw Hank Cartee in there. You didn’t tell me he was going to be here.”

He gave her what he hoped was an apologetic smile. “I didn’t think about it. Consider this your warning, he’ll be at pretty much anything that’s industry-wide.”

Her brow creased, adding a new layer of haunting to the regal costume. “How many more of these do you think I’ll be attending?”

Her implication that she either didn’t want to be there or didn’t want to be spending time with him—he wasn’t sure which—stung, and he tried to hide it. “As many as I can get away with. I like having you here, and I’ll keep you on retainer if that’s what it takes.”

She put more space between them, mouth twisted in irritation. “I’m not Julia Roberts. My job isn’t to attend fancy parties with you.”

Shit, she’d taken the compliment wrong.

“I know, and I didn’t mean to imply. You’re not, it’s true. You’re far more attractive, and I suspect infinitely more intelligent. Also, if we’re making
Pretty Woman
references, I’m Julia Roberts, and you’re grooming me so no one knows I’m a whore.” He grinned big.

She let out a small laugh, and her entire frame relaxed. “You’d never pull off that mini with suspenders.”

“I might could, you never know.” He wanted to lean in and kiss the concern away. Ease the stress from around her lips. He stepped closer.

“Miss Carter.” Hank Cartee’s voice cut through the night. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Scott stepped back instead. Kenzie’s back went straight, and her impassive mask slammed back into place. “It’s for a good cause. I have to keep an eye on my male.” She nodded at Scott, her posture, tone, and language indicating she was role playing again as the dominant character she’d dressed as.

Hank didn’t even glance in Scott’s direction, eyes locked on her chest. He finally looked at her face. “Of course. And you do know how to make an entrance. Listen, I’ll let you two get back to discussing business soon—though don’t do it too much, this is a party, right?” He laughed, though no one else did.

Scott’s hands clenched into fists, but he kept them hidden behind his back, not having a reason to interrupt.

“Anyway.” Hank took Kenzie’s fingers between his, and kissed her knuckles. “You look amazing, my dear, and I had to come out here and let you know, and also apologize for how I acted when we met. It was inappropriate. I know you must be incredible at what you do to have made this kind of impact, and I never should have implied otherwise.”

Kenzie’s stern expression wavered, and she pulled her hand away. “Of course. Water under the bridge, Mr. Cartee. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get back inside.”