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A fresh flare of panic appears. What if Kit shows up next while I’m standing here, waiting for direction? What would he say? What wouldIsay?
I debated asking Lili for her brother’s number all weekend. Who knows how that conversation would have gone? But at least Kit and I would have communicated since I’d snuck out of his hotel room.
I couldn’t do it though. I was too worried Lili would read into it, that she would somehow realize what had happened between us.
And I was—am—a coward who wasn’t sure what to say. One night managed to erase years of ease in dealing with him. My playbook was simple—ignore, avoid, or argue. Leave the adoration to everyone else. But none of those reactions are realistic as his employee.
I’ve been exasperated by seeing Kit before. Irritated, often. But nevernervous, and it’s messing with my head.
“Good morning.”
The greeting startles me from my thoughts. “Oh. Hi. Good morning.”
The receptionist smiles kindly. She’s older than me. Late thirties maybe. She looks wise and worldly, and I’m betting she never slept with her future boss.
“I’m Maya. You must be Collins Tate.”
“Uh, yes. I am.”
My surprise that she knows my name must show on my face because Maya shoots me a conspiratorial look.
“A new Kensington in the office causes a bit of a stir around here. Because of, you know …” She glances over her shoulder at the letters attached to the wall.
I focus on the first word, my gaze drifting over each letter individually.Kensington. It looks as important as it sounds.
“Right,” I reply.
Idoknow. Lili’s graduation party was the most lavish event I’d ever attended. Filled with politicians and actors and all manner of famous, influential people, in the most stunning house I’d ever set foot in. Asummerhome. I had known long before then that Lili came from a very different world than I did, but that was the most drastic example. The moment I’d met my freshman roommate, I had been aware of our different backgrounds, and it’s been reiterated every time I’ve met a Kensington.
It’s unsurprising that Kit would be paid more attention than other employees. It is, however, far from ideal. I’m anxious enough without the glare of a spotlight following me around by association.
“Take a seat. I’ll let Laura know you’re here,” Maya tells me. “She’ll be the one to show you around, help you get settled.”
“Great. Thank you.”
I take a seat on one of the couches, fighting the urge to tap my foot as I wait. I settle for playing with the clip on my badge and staring at the large clock on the wall instead.
Ten minutes later, another woman appears. She’s wearing an elegant wrap dress. Her dark hair, pulled back in a low ponytail, is threaded with a few streaks of gray. Her posture is perfect, stepspurposeful.
She adjusts the tortoiseshell glasses perched on the bridge of her nose before holding a hand out to me. “Laura Skadden. Nice to meet you, Ms. Tate.”
I stand in a rush, gripping her palm and hoping mine isn’t damp. “Nice to meet you too. And it’s just Collins, please.”
Laura nods once in swift acknowledgment. Briefly, I wonder if anyone who works heredoesn’tthrive on brisk efficiency. I can’t picture Kit working amid such somber organization. Usually, if he’s not grinning or joking, he’s about to grin or joke.
“Right this way,” Laura instructs, spinning in her sensible short heels and striding down the hallway.
I follow, my stomach twisting with a new batch of nerves.
7
My dad’s studying the sailboat painting displayed on the wall when I approach my office, holding my morning cup of coffee.
It’s strange, seeing him silhouetted by skyscrapers instead of palm trees. As a kid, I visited my father in a building that overlooked the Hollywood sign.
When he and Mom announced they were moving back to New York full-time—rather than splitting time between coasts, like they’d done for decades—I had no clue what to expect. I thought I’d be oneof two Kensingtons, not three, working in this building.
I’ve always preferred the East Coast to the West, so it’s nice, having my parents’ permanent address be in the same city.