Page 20 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

T oday, she’s wearing a dark green blazer. Yesterday, it was a lilac blouse. Monday, a navy cardigan.

I don’t know when I started cataloging Collins’s outfits. I never consciously decided to. But every morning, when I walk past her desk, I take a mental snapshot. Throughout the day, I think about her sitting outside my office. And by the end of the day, I’ve memorized her appearance.

“Morning, Collins,” I greet.

She glances up from the computer screen as I pause beside her desk. “Morning, Kit.”

“Feels like fall out,” I state.

The weather. I’m bringing up the weather , like an unoriginal idiot.

Collins nods. “It does. Nice to not have to add more layers when I get here anymore.”

I frown. “You’re cold?”

She mentioned the building’s cool temperature when we were stuck in the elevator, and they do blast the air-conditioning in here over the summer. But I tend to run warm, and cold air is bliss when you’re wearing two layers of starched fabric.

“I’m fine,” Collins replies, which isn’t really an answer.

I glance at my watch. “You’re here early.”

It’s barely past eight. The company’s workday “officially” begins at nine a.m.

“So are you,” she points out.

I showed up at eight on the dot on Monday, wanting to clear the air with Collins as early as possible. She arrived ten minutes later, and I didn’t ask why. I simply apologized for my behavior on Friday, and she did the same. I didn’t ask about her date; she didn’t mention Vegas.

We’ve reverted to the same civility as when she first started, and I keep telling myself it’s for the best.

I like Collins. I’ve always liked Collins, and I also happen to be insanely attracted to her. That was true long before she started at Kensington Consolidated, and spending a minimum of forty hours a week in close proximity to her hasn’t solved the problem.

But she works for me. And not only is she a fantastic assistant, but she’s settled in well at the company. I’ve seen her smiling and chatting with some of the other assistants on this floor. Eating lunch and grabbing coffee .

An affair with my assistant is what some people would probably expect from me.

They’d gossip and whisper and point, but plenty of them would wink and laugh and joke.

All of them would gossip and whisper and point at Collins.

I’d be called irresponsible; she’d be labeled a slut.

My world is especially vicious to outsiders.

I’ve already lingered at her desk longer than I should’ve. We’re not alone on this floor, although it’s a lot quieter than it’ll be in an hour.

I tap the wood counter once. “Hold any calls this morning. I’ve got to review all the latest Phoenix Gazette documents and don’t want any distractions.”

Collins nods. “Will do.”

I nod back, then continue walking.

“Kit?”

I halt and turn around. “Yeah?”

“I, uh …” Collins taps a pen against her keyboard. “I was wondering if it would be okay if I left a little early this afternoon. Around three? I have a, um, doctor’s appointment.”

My forehead furrows as I take a step closer to scrutinize her appearance more closely. “Are you okay?”

She looks healthy. She’s wearing some makeup, but not a lot. Maybe she’s a little pale?

“I’m fine,” Collins says quickly. “It’s just a regular checkup.” She bites her bottom lip. Nervously almost.

Does she seriously think I’m going to tell her she can’t go to the doctor?

“Of course,” I reply. “Take all the time you need. The whole afternoon if you want.”

Collins smiles. “That’s not necessary. But thanks.”

“Don’t worry about clearing that stuff with me, by the way. ”

“I’m supposed to. You’re my boss.”

She grimaces a little on that last word, which makes me grin.

“I trust you. If you need to leave early or come in late, you don’t need to ask my permission. Just put it on my calendar so I don’t wor—wonder where you are.”

“This won’t be a regular thing. No special treatment , remember?”

I won’t be touching the edge in her tone. I know why it’s there.

“I told you, it’s not special treatment, Monty.”

She breaks eye contact when the nickname slips out—practically proving her point—and I curse internally.

I clear my throat. “I’m treating you the same I would any assistant, okay?”

Is that true? I’m not entirely sure. She’s the only assistant I’ve ever had, and I can’t imagine having a similar rapport with a random woman, no matter how competent she was. I’ve never had a similar rapport with any woman, colleague or not.

“Okay,” Collins says, but the word lacks any real conviction.

“You’ve arrived early or worked late every day since you started,” I remind her. “So, I owe you about twenty hours of vacation time. The least I can do is let you leave early once.”

“I’ll add it to the calendar.”

I continue studying her, valiantly attempting to avoid the view of her cleavage that me standing and her sitting offers. “You sure you’re okay?”

She’s been acting off this whole week, but I assumed it was lingering awkwardness from Friday. Now I’m worried something else is going on. Did something happen on her date? If so, I’m probably the last person she’d confide in.

Her lips press into a tight, straight line. “Do I not look okay? ”

Talk about a loaded question.

I attempt a diplomatic answer. “You look … a little tired.”

“Gee, thanks.” Her eyes roll above the dark circles shadowed beneath them.

“You look beautiful, Collins.”

She breaks eye contact when I compliment her. The tally of things I shouldn’t have said during this conversation is rapidly rising.

“I haven’t been sleeping well. My upstairs neighbor is a sex fiend. It’s like living in the dorms again.”

I smirk at that. “I didn’t realize Montgomery Hall was such a den of depravity. It seemed respectable when we dropped Lili off.”

“You mean, until you dropped Lili off.”

I laugh. “She raised hell from day one?”

I don’t remember much of Lili’s behavior on the day we dropped her off. I was distracted by her roommate.

“I’m talking about you , Christopher Kensington.”

My focus sharpens. “What?”

“You swaggered in, all gorgeous and?—”

“You thought I was gorgeous?”

Collins presses her lips tight together again. “That was the general consensus.”

I guess we can both be diplomatic.

I rest my elbows on the edge of her desk and lean forward. “And did you agree with the general consensus?”

She deliberately breaks eye contact to look at her computer screen. “Glenn just sent an email about the Beauté pitch. He’s suggesting setting up a follow-up meeting.”

I sigh. Of course he is .

“I’ll see you later,” I say, catching her nod before I step into my office.

No wonder I avoided it for so long. Being responsible sucks.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: A/C

Hey Indy,

Who controls the A/C on this floor? My office is cold.

—Kit

Christopher Kensington

Vice President

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: A/C

Hi Kit,

Rumor is, you now have your own assistant, who you could ask.

—Indy

P.S. How was Vegas?

Indy Michaels

Assistant to Asher Cotes

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: A/C

Please? I’ll buy you a really nice wedding gift.

Vegas was fine.

—Kit

Christopher Kensington

Vice President

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Re: Re: A/C

You’ll be toasty by noon.

Tony said this was too expensive to include on our registry. *link attached*

—Indy

Indy Michaels

Assistant to Asher Cotes