Page 16 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

“ W hat do you think, Kit?”

I glance up from the doodles I was drawing in the margins of the outline at Glenn—my least favorite member of the team my father assembled for the Beauté acquisition.

The team I’m supposed to lead, not zone out on.

I think most of Glenn’s unpleasantness is rooted in his resentment that I’m a year younger and his superior, and I’m essentially proving his point by not paying attention.

I look back down at the outline, pretending to contemplate an answer. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Levi Jenkins’s pen tapping the fifth bullet point— long-term outlook .

My eyes dart back to Glenn. He’s sitting right beneath the clock, and I fight a grimace when I see it’s already ten past five.

“I think that discussing Beauté’s long-term outlook can wait until Monday,” I state. “Enjoy the weekend, everyone.”

Everyone—with the exception of Glenn—smiles and stands, relieved the long meeting is finally ending. Glenn closes his binder with a disgruntled frown before exiting the conference room. Guess he doesn’t have any fun Friday night plans.

“Thanks,” I tell Levi, who’s draining the remnants of a coffee.

He lowers the cup and grins. “No problem. Have a good one, Kit.”

“You too,” I reply, tucking my leather portfolio under one arm and heading in the opposite direction from everyone else. None of them have offices on this floor.

I can’t decide if I want Collins to still be at her desk or not. It’s Friday—her date with Perry. If she’s so eager to see him that she left on time for once, that’ll suck. If she’s still here, I’ll have opportunities to say shit I shouldn’t.

Her desk is empty, but she isn’t gone for the day. Her water bottle is still on her desk, and the computer screen is unlocked.

I open the portfolio on the counter that surrounds her desk and pull out the materials from today’s meeting.

Rather than leave them there the way I normally would, I round the side of the counter and yank the filing cabinet open.

Everything’s neatly labeled, so it only takes me a few seconds to find the correct folder and add today’s packet.

“Taking over for your assistant, Kit?” Andy Sanborn—one of the board members and the occupant of the office a couple down from mine—pauses in the hallway. He’s headed out for the day, briefcase in hand.

I chuckle, shutting the cabinet. “Not exactly.”

“Your father was the same way. No job too small for Crew. You’re a chip off the old block.”

I force a smile and a nod.

Andy’s a nice guy, and he’s trying to pay me a compliment. But I’m not sure why it rarely occurs to anyone that constant comparisons to my father get old. They have dwindled since I started at least. No one has mentioned how my office belonged to my dad this week.

“Thanks, Andy,” I say. “Have a nice weekend.”

“You too,” he replies, then continues down the hallway.

I head into my office, ignoring the constant buzzing in my pocket.

I’m sure it’s Flynn. I promised I’d be on time. And I would have been on time if not for Glenn’s follow-up points on every single topic during the meeting.

I shut down my computer and am adding a few papers to my briefcase when there’s a knock on my office door.

“Come in,” I call out distractedly.

“I just printed the report on—” Collins starts, then pauses. “Oh. You’re leaving?”

She sounds surprised. She’s noticed the irregular hours I keep, and I hope that means she’s also noticed how hard I work. I was too cowardly to turn the question around when she asked if I thought I deserved to be here the other night.

“I’m leaving,” I confirm. “You should too. Everything else can wait until Monday.”

“Right. Okay.” She’s still standing in the same spot, arms folded over the report she came to deliver, and for some reason, I think she’s debating asking me where I’m going.

The longer she’s in my office, the faster my willpower is fraying. The more likely I am to mention her date tonight.

So, my tone is brusque as I ask, “Anything else?”

Her chin lifts defensively.

Fuck, that was too dismissive. I should have mentioned I’m in a rush.

“Nope, nothing else,” she says coolly. “I’ll just leave these here.” Collins strides toward my desk and drops the papers.

I’m a jerk, and she’s annoyed with me. What else is new?

I don’t know how to do this—be friendly and keep firm boundaries in place. Being around her, but not being with her feels like settling for pieces when I want every part.

So, since driving her home, I’ve swallowed jokes and tamped down smiles. Done anything and everything I can think of to make the short distance between our desks a wider gulf. An effort I thought Collins would appreciate, not act offended by.

“It’s organized by financial quarter,” she tells me. “With the annual overview on top.”

Exactly how I like to review reports. Broad, then specific.

“Great. Thanks.” I clear my throat and pick the stack of papers up. I can review it on the plane. “Have a nice week?—”

“You’d better be ready, Kensington!” Flynn’s exclamation precedes his arrival in my office by approximately two seconds. He saunters in, grinning when he sees me standing with my briefcase in hand. “Sweet! Vegas, here we—” He spots Collins and immediately stops talking.

Flynn glances between me and her, eyebrows raised.

I don’t think he drank enough in the Hamptons to not remember her again .

Sure enough, the next words out of my best friend’s mouth are, “It’s Collins, right?”

“Right.” She smiles at him. “Nice to see you, Flynn.”

Flynn and I haven’t discussed the state of his relationship with his cousin recently. But I’m suddenly, irrationally irritated, picturing Collins laughing with her new boyfriend and my best friend. It might make me a terrible person, but I’m hoping Flynn’s still firmly anti-Perry.

“You’re working here?” Again, Flynn glances between me and Collins.

I’m not sure why he’s acting so surprised. He’s met Collins once—that he remembers—and he’s never asked for details about my job. Why would I have told him she’s my assistant?

“Now I get why Kit’s so hard to drag out of the office these days,” he adds.

“Flynn,” I growl.

He just grins. “Are you two still working? I can wait out in the hallway while you finish up.”

The comment is for Collins’s benefit, not mine. Flynn has never worried about interrupting me a day in his life.

“Oh, no. We’re all set.” Collins smiles sweetly. “I wouldn’t want to keep Kit from Vegas .”

My jaw’s clenched so tight that it aches. I was hoping she’d missed that mention.

“Exactly right,” Flynn says, entirely missing the edge to her tone. “It’s going to be an epic weekend. I’d invite you to join us, but the plane’s full.”

“No worries. I’ve got plans this weekend.”

A muscle in my jaw actually pops, sending a stab of pain down my neck. I glare at Flynn, and he finally gets the message.

He hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be in the hallway. Nice to see you again, Collins.”

“You too,” she replies, chipper as could be.

I stand stock-still, waiting for the door to shut.

“So, you’re going to Vegas for the weekend,” she states.

Only part of the weekend. I’m flying back in time for Lili’s dinner tomorrow. But I doubt that’s a clarification Collins cares about, so I don’t mention it. “Yeah, I am.”

“Fun.” She nods toward the report I’m holding. “Don’t lose that at a strip club, okay? It took me an hour to arrange all the sections.”

I lift an eyebrow. She almost sounds … jealous?

“There are other things to do in Vegas than go to strip clubs,” I say.

“Uh-huh. It’s really known for its respectable establishments.”

I shake my head, letting a smile slip through. “Does it bother you that I’m going to Vegas?”

Collins scoffs. “Of course not.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You play with your hair when you lie,” I say softly. But loudly enough that she hears.

I watch her shoulders stiffen as the comment registers.

“If that’s all, Mr. Kensington?—”

“Wow. We’ve backslid straight to Mr. Kensington ? You’re not even going to try calling me Christopher first?”

Collins scowls. “Have a safe flight. I should go. I have plans tonight.”

“Yeah, I know you have plans tonight.”

And those plans are a large part of why I agreed when Flynn suggested this guys’ trip, honestly. I wanted a distraction .

She stares at me for a few more seconds, then turns to leave.

Panic swells in my chest, making it impossible to breathe and forcing forbidden words out. “Don’t sleep with him, okay? Just … don’t.”

Collins glances over her shoulder. I’m expecting anger, but her expression is serious as she tells me, “You don’t get a say in that either, Kit.”

Then she’s gone.

“To Vegas!” Flynn cheers.

I suck the shot down without saying a word, fighting the urge to glance at my watch again and see what time it is. Drinks are usually early, right?

The entire drive to the airport, I squashed the urge to suggest to Flynn that he invite his cousin to join us. Whether he’d accepted or not, it’d have given me a better sense of Perry’s intentions. I barely know the guy. I hardly paid attention to him the last time I saw him.

I didn’t think Collins was seriously interested in him.

Is she?

I break away from the clump of my friends, taking a seat near the rear of the plane.

Maybe it’s for the best , the rational part of my brain tries to argue. If Collins is no longer single, if she’s even more off-limits than she currently is, maybe I’ll finally get over my obsession with her.

“I heard you have a hot assistant,” Pierce Archibald states, flopping down in the seat opposite mine. He went to Dalton Academy with me and Flynn.

I scowl in Flynn’s direction. He’s too busy pouring another round to notice .

“She’s just a random friend of Lili’s,” I reply.

“Is she single? ’Cause I?—”

“She’s not single,” I clip.

“Bummer.” He slouches in his seat, pulling out his phone.

I glance out the window at the tarmac. We should be taking off at any minute.

And I’ve never felt so conflicted about leaving New York.