Conflict of Interest Read online

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.

  Chapter 16

  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 yo
u’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.”

  Hank held the door open for her, still never looking directly at Scott, and let it swing shut behind them.

  Scott stood in the night air for several minutes after they were gone, breathing deep and trying to remember not to hyperventilate. He pushed back his fury at Cartee and the very visible reaction he’d had to Kenzie. Great, he was a kid again who couldn’t even control a hard-on. Fantastic.

  * * * *

  Kenzie stood near the back of the room, shifting her weight from one foot to another. Standing up straight made her heels ache, but fidgeting didn’t solve the problem. She desperately wanted to step out of the torture devices masquerading as shoes. She sipped her water and watched as item after item sold to the highest bidder.

  It made her smile that so many people were into the evening. Or at least, now that the novelty of snapping pictures of everyone in their costumes had worn off and she had some peace, it made her smile.

  She’d mingled a little, but this wasn’t the kind of affair she was used to. Scott was in his element. Every time she caught a glimpse of him, he was laughing and joking with someone new. She didn’t know which were his colleagues and which were just fans, but he seemed to enjoy everyone’s company. Such a sharp contrast to how drained he’d looked at the investor dinner.

  Could she sneak out for the night without saying goodbye? Was it rude to leave before the auction was over? She set her drink on a nearby table and made her way toward the exit, relieved when she didn’t pass anyone. The lights and noise faded into the background, and she left it behind her with a hint of regret.

  A warm hand landed at the small of her back, startling her and obliterating her musings, and a faint whiff of cologne greeted her. It was him. She stopped in the empty, quiet hallway. At least he couldn’t hear her hammering heart.

  His breath was warm on her neck, his voice low. “What they’re saying is true. You really are the most beautiful woman here.”

  The compliment warmed her, and she couldn’t fight the flutter that surged through her chest. She tried to push it away, stay aloof, hope it didn’t show on the surface. “Really? How many of the others have you said that to?”

  “Not a single one.” Hurt was distinct in his reply.

  She winced at the wounded honesty, but hid her reaction, never turning to face him.

  “It’s a shame we’re just associates. Friends at best.” He moved closer until his entire left side was pressed against her back, hand on her hip and finger tracing a light line along the top of her skirt. “Because I desperately want to take you home with me.”

  Her skin flushed from the contact and the sincere words, and she was glad the makeup and latex hid it. She spun, any response dying on her lips when she met his gaze. She traced a finger over his face beneath the fake scar. “This is sexy, but I’m glad it’s not real.”

  He inhaled through clenched teeth, a reluctant smile flitting in. “Me too. Getting something like this probably hurts like hell.”

  She laughed and ducked her head. It was too easy. Too much fun.

  He stepped closer, and she locked her gaze on him again, sinking into the deep brown of his eyes. He traced a finger over her bottom lip, and an electrified chill ran through her. Her lips parted, and her eyes half drifted shut as she leaned in.

  His mouth found hers, and her heart hammered in response to the gentle kiss. He deepened the gesture, hand moving to the small of her back and holding her close. She pressed tightly against him, memorizing every inch of how his body felt against hers, his distinct reaction digging into her hip.

  A loud giggle echoed through the empty hallway, sounding like shattering glass in the otherwise still.

  Her eyes flew open, and she broke the kiss as she remembered how very public their surroundings were. She forced one foot back, and then the other, putting a several inches between them. Her laugh sounded forced and nervous, even to her own ears, and disappointment warred with propriety. “This might not be the time.”

  He studied her for a moment, expression finally breaking into a sad smile. “Had to give it a shot, right?” Hurt rang heavy in his fake laughter. “Anyway, I’m out of here soon, just wanted to tell you good night. Thank you for coming.”

  He kept the distance between them, and her disappointment grew.

  “See you.” He moved away, not shaking her hand, or kissing her cheek, or anything, before he faded back into the crowd.

  She slumped against a nearby wall, beating back the desire to chase him down. To tell him it didn’t matter. To admit how very much she wanted to leave with him too. Too bad that wouldn’t be appropriate.

  Chapter 17

  Kenzie pushed her laptop out of the way, resting her arms on her desk and her chin on her arms. She didn’t know why she was trying to work. She hadn’t gotten any done for the last two days.

  Her bedroom wall stared back at her, the off-white texture not giving her any answers. Every time she tried to do something, anything, even basic things like sleeping, thoughts of Scott haunted her. His arm wrapped around her while she drifted off. Waking up with his chest pressed against her back. His finger on her lips before he faded back into the crowds at the masquerade.

  The wounded pain in his eyes. How very much she just needed to walk away but couldn’t.

  Something tickled her thoughts, but she couldn’t place it. It nudged and nagged until she grabbed it. A way out, maybe?

  Things were going well, right? No public incidents, Cartee had said himself at the charity auction that things were better. So that meant she was probably almost done. She could transfer the contract to someone new, say it was in maintenance mode. Or cancel it altogether. If the issue was resolved, there was no reason for her to stay on, right? He’d proved he could clean up when the situation called for it. He knew how to behave. He was absolutely charming when he wanted to be.

  He was everything perfect. And if she could just get out of that damn contract, maybe they had a chance together. If he was even still interested in her.

  It was the most soothing thought she’d had since they parted ways after the auction. She smiled and turned her head, resting her cheek on her arms and letting the possibilities flit through her thoughts. They would be incredible together at formal parties. He had looked amazing in that tux. The thought tugged something unpleasant, but she pushed away the nagging. More clothes
shopping. That had been fun.

  The nagging grew, but she couldn’t tell what it was attached to.

  Her computer chimed, and she forced the fantasy away.

  A message from Zach.

  We need to talk. I’d expect this from Scott, but not you.

  Nausea slipped through her, and her temple throbbed. What the hell? She was reaching for her phone when her email chimed again. This time it was a message from Greta.

  I need you in my office this afternoon. Tell me when you’re available, I’ll make time.

  A link to a gaming forum followed the message. She clicked through, curiosity mingling with unfocused dread as the page loaded. Her eyes grew wide at what she saw, and her stomach lurched. Oh shit. What had they done?

  The forum thread was titled: Why I rly wnt 2 b a game designer.

  And it was full of photos from the charity dinner. The amazing costumes, the fantastic fun. The black-skinned drow she’d dressed as tucked in a dark hallway, Scott’s finger on her lip, the two of them looking very much just seconds from kissing. Then another shot of their lips pressed together, his hand on her lower back, her palms resting on his chest.

  Enough evidence that she’d been intimate with a client to jeopardize her job. A mile-long string of profanities raced through her thoughts. How had that gotten on camera? Damn it, why had she let herself fall into this?

  Panic pounded through her, overriding reason as she dove into reactionary mode. She had to fix this. She couldn’t let it impact her job.

  She tried to call Zach, but went straight to voice mail. She hung up before the beep, not sure what to say. She replied to Greta, saying she’d be there in half an hour.

  She forwarded the message with links to Scott and included her own message.

  Never again.

  She scurried to dress and pull her hair back so she could get into the office. Her email chimed again with a reply from Scott.

  Fine with me.

  She snarled at her laptop and slammed it shut. Fury and hurt screamed through her veins. The finality in those three words. Her stomach rolled in on itself as she walked out the door. He didn’t get to have the last word in this. She slipped in her earpiece and dialed his number as she headed to her car. Her heels scuffed against the concrete. She didn’t care.