Conflict of Interest Page 8

  “And who is this stunning young lady?” Hank’s gaze raked over Kenzie, lingering several seconds on her chest and never quite making it to her face.

  “Mackenzie Carter, publicity.” She shook his hand. Her smile had cooled several degrees, Scott noted with a hint of satisfaction.

  The four continued to chat as they made their way inside and were seated. Or rather, three of them chatted and Scott watched, reminded more with every passing second why he wasn’t fond of Hank.

  “So you’re shaping that dipshit into something presentable, are you?” Hank had taken the chair next to Kenzie and angled it toward her. His arms rested on the edge of the table, gaze locked just below her neck.

  Hypocritical asshole. For a moment—as he frequently did during these meetings—Scott wished he still drank. He focused on his water and hoped he could be polite when appropriate.

  “No.” Kenzie turned away from him, watching the table even though she was still answering his question. “But Mr. McAllister has been great to work with. It’s almost like he knows all of this already, and he’s just tolerating me.”

  Scott nearly choked on his drink as his eyes met hers across the table. There was no way she’d figured that out. The flat expression on her face told him no, she hadn’t. She was just playing the part.

  “Maybe when you’re done with him, we could have you do more for the rest of the company. I’m sure you’ve got a couple of things you could teach me.” Hank brushed his hand over hers, reaching for the bread basket.

  Scott couldn’t do this. Ten minutes into dinner and he already wanted to punch the asshole in the face. He pushed back quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a call to make before things get too hectic overseas.”

  Kenzie’s eyes grew wide for a moment before her icy mask slipped back into place. Zach gave him a warning look.

  Hank waved a dismissive hand. “You do what you have to.”

  Scott gritted his teeth as he headed toward a spot near the back of the restaurant he knew would be quiet. Behind him, he heard a few more snatches of conversation and had to bite back a retch.

  Kenzie’s voice was cold, but polite. “I’ll give you my company’s name. They can put you in touch with someone more familiar with group work.”

  “I’d rather see what you can do one-on-one first.” Hank sounded like a snake that had learned to enunciate.

  *

  Kenzie had worked with leeches before. Self-proclaimed gentlemen who assumed if she was there to whip their image into shape, she was there for all their needs. She’d never had an issue telling them where to stick it instead and walking away. But that had always been her contract to break, not a multi-million dollar investment deal for someone else. And to top it all off, this was the jerk who had accused Scott of not knowing how to behave in public.

  When Hank’s hand found her knee under the table and then slid higher, she couldn’t sit still anymore. She tried to be polite about pulling away. “I’m so sorry. I need to powder my nose.”

  Zach stood when she did.

  Hank nodded up at her and turned his attention to his drink. “Hurry back. We’ve got business to discuss.”

  Heat flooded her entire body, fury pumping through every inch. She ducked into the restroom, relieved it was empty, and splashed cold water on her face. Her reflection blinked back at her, drops streaming down smeared cheeks, flushed red glaring through it all. She wiped away the destroyed makeup and set out to reapply as quickly as she could, hoping the familiar motions would numb her thoughts.

  Or maybe she shouldn’t bother with the touch-up. She couldn’t believe she was even considering bailing for the night, but she wasn’t helping by being there. She’d made the point; she’d proven Scott was trying. Her presence was just distracting from the boys talking.

  Had she really just thought that? She wanted to slap herself. She could play with the big boys as well as anyone else, and some bozo like Hank Cartee wasn’t going to intimidate her. She wasn’t some executive’s dainty wife who was only there to look pretty. Taking a deep breath, she finished touching up her makeup and braced herself for the rest of the evening. She could find a way to put him in his place without costing anyone anything. It was what she did.

  As she emerged from the bathroom, a flash of gray fabric caught her attention on the edge of her peripheral vision. She spun and saw Scott loitering in a corner, back against the wall, raking his fingers through his hair. She was still happy he’d worn the suit she picked out. It accentuated his broad shoulders and made him look distinguished instead of intimidating. Not that intimidating was always bad in his case.

  She pushed the thought away. She needed to focus on the night, not on him. She also needed to drag him back to dinner.

  He jumped a little, eyes wide when she stopped in front of him. “Hey.” His smile was weak, but his voice was warm.

  “I think your associates are looking for you.” She nodded toward the dining room. He’d picked an out-of-sight place to hide, and there was less than a foot between them. He radiated a subtle hint of cologne and a more powerful impression of panic. This was why she was here. To get him through the night. She just had to remember that.

  “I think it’s more likely they’re looking for you.” Scott’s laugh was forced. “Zach has a pretty good idea where I am. And I’m really sorry about Cartee. I mean, he’s right that you look incredible, but that’s no excuse for him to let so much of himself show.”

  She ducked her head at the compliment. Why did it sound so much more genuine, and less repulsive, coming from him? Maybe it was because his eyes never left hers.

  His finger rested under her chin, and he pulled her face back up. His tone was kind. “I wouldn’t blame you if you made some excuse and hightailed it out of here. I’ll go with you if it will help.”

  It was more tempting than she dared dwell on. “I thought about it, believe me.” She let out a short laugh. “But if you can tolerate the rest of the evening, so can I.” Except she didn’t want to head back out there. She wanted him to push her against the wall and kiss her, and make her have to bite back screams, and … she forced the thoughts away.

  His thumb traced under her eye, and his voice dropped in volume. “Your makeup’s smudged. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  She covered his hand with hers, meaning to push him away, but lingering instead. “I’m fine, I promise.” Her pulse hammered in her ears, making it difficult to hear anything but him.

  He pulled away, palm brushing her shoulder and sending a tremor through her as he dropped his arm. “We should probably get back.”

  But he didn’t move.

  “Probably.” Neither did she. There was something hidden in his brown eyes she wanted to dive into and discover. What was it?

  “There you two are.” Hank’s brash announcement startled her. “Making out in a dark corner, really?”

  Kenzie’s fury returned full force. Apparently she didn’t have it as under control as she thought. She backed away. “I should get back.” But Hank had blocked them in.

  “I knew you were high school, McAllister, but even a virgin newb knows you don’t get to kiss the escort on the lips.” Hank’s insult carried, echoing off plaster. “I should have known you weren’t taking this seriously, but paying someone to pretend so you don’t have to actually follow through, and you can’t even wait for your happy ending until you get home?”

  Kenzie’s hands clenched into fists, and a string of exactly what she thought of this snake rushed to the tip of her tongue. But the vulgarities never got a chance to spill out.

  Scott grabbed Hank’s jacket near the shoulder and swung him into the wall with a quiet thunk. “I assure you, I’m taking this very seriously.” Scott’s voice was a low growl, barely audible above the clatter of silverware against plates from the nearest table, but the threat was unmistakable.

  Hank’s eyes were wide. “I’d suggest you let go. This suit is worth more t
han your car.”

  Scott snorted. “I really doubt that. But it doesn’t matter how much money you have.” Every word was spoken through gritted teeth, none meant for any ears but theirs. “It doesn’t give you a right to talk to anyone like that, especially my people.” His grip tightened, knuckles growing pale when Hank struggled to break away. “Just because you find your women on the corner of Ventura doesn’t mean everyone does, and if you ever call anyone who works for me a whore again, the threat of assault charges that are keeping me from breaking your nose won’t be a deterrent.”

  Hank’s upper lip pulled into a sneer. “I’m surprised it’s stopping you now. Control isn’t your strong suit.”

  Scott let go, hand clenching into a fist and drawing back for a hook. Hank backed away quickly, almost tripping over his feet.

  “The night is over, McAllister. I’ll be talking to the board tomorrow.” Cartee’s back was straight, shoulders back as he headed for the exit, but he moved like the hounds of hell were on his heels.

  “Thank you.” Kenzie’s voice was quiet, her hammering heart making it difficult to speak.

  Scott just shook his head and pushed away. As she followed him to the table, she couldn’t help but notice no one was watching them. Conversations were happening as if a fist fight hadn’t almost broken out just a few feet from their seats. All that, and he’d still managed to keep it quiet. That man was such an enigma.

  Zach half rose as they approached. “Did I miss something?”

  Scott inhaled sharply. “Yes. I’m bailing. Call me.”

  “Wait.” Kenzie reached for him but dropped her hand at his troubled expression. The conflicted hurt, confusion, anger, and frustration must have mirrored her own, and she didn’t know if she was ready to face her own ambivalence, let alone his.

  He followed the same path as Hank, disappearing outside in a matter of seconds.

  Kenzie sank into her chair as everything caught up with her and her legs gave out.

  Zach pointed at a plate of stuffed mushrooms. “Help yourself.”

  How could he be so calm? Oh, right, because he didn’t know what had happened. She knocked back her white wine, finishing the entire glass in a single swallow.

  That made him raise an eyebrow. “What did I miss?”

  Gawd, how was she supposed to explain what had happened? The words spilled out, jumbled and abrupt. “He called me a whore, and Scott threatened to deck him, and he said he was assembling the board.”

  Zach’s lips drew into a thin line, and he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

  He looked as torn as she felt. “No, I am. You shouldn’t have invited me tonight. I’ve cost you what you hired me to save. And I don’t even, I just—”

  “Stop.” He cut her off, tone kind. “No you didn’t, and it’s not your fault. Never apologize because someone else can’t control themselves.”

  She felt some of the stress drain from her shoulders as the wine worked its way through her. “But…”

  He stabbed a mushroom and chewed thoughtfully, swallowing before he replied. “The two of them have never gotten along. It’s times like this I wish we’d known that before we took Hank’s money.”

  Kenzie frowned, but didn’t argue. She knew how things worked in business.

  “We’ve got a developer he likes.” Zach leaned back, hands clasped and resting on the edge of the table. “The kid’s a savant, and Cartee is forever trying to hire him away. We’ll send him to California to play nice, they’ll probably drop way more of our money than they should in tittie bars, and things will be back to a level three hostile instead of level one by next week.”

  Frustration and tears threatened, and she bit them back as exhaustion trickled in. Sometimes she really hated playing in what men saw as their world. “I see.”

  Zach’s expression softened. “I really am genuinely sorry, and I wouldn’t blame you if you dropped us. Hank’s an ass, but I didn’t expect this. Still, you’re doing good things for Scott, I can tell, so I’ll ask you to stay and leave the rest up to you.”

  He meant quit. She hadn’t even considered it. But it sounded more tempting than it should. She needed to get away from this environment. It was screwing with her head in ways she’d never dealt with before. Not being able to keep her hands off a client? She knew better than that. She’d never even been tempted before. So why did the thought of walking away make her a little ill? Or maybe that was just the ebbing adrenaline settling in her gut.

  She gave him a tired smile. “I honestly don’t know. Give me the weekend to think about it?”

  The corner of Zach’s mouth pulled down, but he nodded. “Of course.”

  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 asshole 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.”