Page 43 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

“ I ’m here to see Christopher Kensington.”

I glance up from the papers I’m organizing, straight into a steely-blue gaze. I’ve never met Arthur Kensington before, but I recognize him instantly. His eyes are a cooler version of Kit’s.

His grandfather wasn’t on the approved list Kit gave me on my first day of work. There’s no visitor badge clipped to the lapel of his tailored suit. But I doubt that’s because Arthur wasn’t offered one. He’s Arthur Kensington. He doesn’ t need one.

“I’ll check if he’s available,” I state, sneaking a quick look at Kit’s calendar as I reach for my phone. According to it, he’s free right now. No meeting with his grandfather was scheduled.

Arthur appears mildly entertained by my response, but doesn’t comment as I dial Kit’s direct line. He glances around the immediate vicinity instead. The two women walking down the hallway, staring this way, quickly avert their gaze and speed up their steps.

Kit answers on the third ring. “Kensington.”

“Hi. I—your grandfather is here. Should I, uh—are you available?”

“My grandfather is here?” There’s a stunted, stunned cadence to the question that tells me this wasn’t a visit he simply forgot to add to his calendar. Or have me add to his calendar.

“Yes,” I confirm.

Kit clears his throat. “I’ll be right out.”

“Okay.” I hang up, meeting Arthur’s hawkish gaze, which has refocused on me. “He’s free.”

“I would hope so since he answered his telephone.” Arthur glances at the files I was paging through. “How long have you been working for my grandson, Miss …”

“It’s Collins. I mean, my last name is Tate. My first name is, uh, Collins. You can call me Collins.” Frantically, I count backward in my head, trying to come up with an answer to his question. “Almost four months?”

“Are you asking or telling?”

I swallow. “Telling. Four months.”

“Grandpa.”

Arthur and I both glance to the left, where Kit has appeared in the doorway of his office. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his slacks, studying his grandfather .

“It was nice to meet you, Collins,” Arthur states, then continues toward Kit. “Do you always greet visitors outside your office, Christopher? It’s rather over-accommodating.”

“You’re the only one I over-accommodate, Grandpa,” Kit replies. “Most visitors have to wait until I’ve played a few rounds of solitaire for an unscheduled meeting.”

“I’ve heard reports that you’re more focused on your responsibilities than playing games.”

Kit raises one eyebrow, surprise—and some pride—flashing across his face. “Is that why you’re here? To see if your spies reported accurately?”

“You suggested I stop by,” Arthur states. “So, here I am.”

Kit hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “Dad’s old office.”

“I remember.”

“Want to see what I’ve done with the place?”

In response, Arthur enters the office. Kit follows his grandfather inside and shuts the door.

He wasn’t exaggerating about his grandfather’s demeanor. But Arthur stopping by doesn’t seem meaning less .

I stand, grab my empty mug off the desk, and head toward the break room for a fresh cup of tea. While I’m waiting for more water to boil, I walk over to the windows that line the exterior wall. Like the ones in Kit’s office, they offer an impressive view of the skyline.

It’s snowing, fluffy flakes drifting down from the sky. There isn’t any accumulation on the street, but up here, it feels like standing in a snow globe. I watch the flakes fall, wondering how Kit’s conversation with his grandfather is going.

Maybe he’ll tell me later.

Probably not .

Ever since our trip to New Haven, things between me and Kit have reverted to professional.

As soon as the sun rose and we were back in the city, my fears reset.

I remembered that I have to work with Kit every day, focusing on spreadsheets and calendars and important deals worth tens of millions of dollars.

I remembered that the small bump I’m sporting is going to become a living, breathing human being that’s relying on me to not mess up.

I want Kit to be this kid’s dad. I’m grateful he’s this kid’s dad.

I’m scared I’ll do something to ruin my relationship with him, and it’ll affect our child in some negative way. And I’m scared I’ll do something to ruin my relationship with him, and it will ruin me .

It was so easy to leap that night at my parents’. To admit I wanted him. To show I wanted him. To forget all the complications and pretend it was that night in the Hamptons again. To be selfish and to take exactly what I wanted.

I don’t regret it. And I meant what I told Kit—I want to date him.

But it’s not that simple. I wish it were.

The electric kettle shuts off. I fix myself a fresh cup of chamomile and return to my spot by the windows. Stare outside, savoring the peaceful scene for a few more seconds before I go back to staring at a screen.

“Stella said Arthur Kensington is here?” Margot appears next to me, peering out at the snow. “Wow. It’s really coming down.”

“Yeah, it is,” I agree. “And, yeah, he is. He’s in Kit’s office right now.”

“He is ? I thought Stella was hallucinating.”

“He is,” I confirm.

“Well, that’s interesting. Sanborn said he hasn’t been here in years. Decades. Do you know what he’s doing here? ”

“No clue,” I reply, stirring my spoon in my tea.

Margot glances at my abdomen. “You’re showing a little.”

I make a face. “I know.”

Friday is my final day, and I couldn’t be cutting it much closer. Sucking my stomach in isn’t really cutting it anymore. Chunky sweaters are the main reason everyone isn’t suspecting what Margot knows.

“If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have … it’s not very noticeable.”

I laugh. “Convincing. Thanks.”

“Seriously, how are you feeling?”

I glance over my shoulder, making sure we’re still alone. “Better. Physically at least. No more nausea and vomiting. But emotionally? Each week, I’m getting closer to the whole having a baby part, and that’s … terrifying.”

“How’s baby daddy dealing?”

“He’s great. He’s …” I exhale. “It seems like nothing fazes him, and that’s reassuring.

It also makes me feel a little crazy sometimes.

Like, why am I panicking about every little thing and he’s just …

steady? Also, I kissed him.” I take a hasty sip of my tea, wincing when my tongue registers how hot it is.

“That’s norm—wait, what? You kissed him?”

I nod. “Last weekend. He came home with me to meet my parents, and we made out on the couch while they were sleeping.”

“Sounds like high school.”

I laugh. “Yeah, it was, kinda.”

Kit makes me feel younger. Maybe it’s because he’s younger than me.

Maybe it’s his playful personality. I feel more like myself when I’m around him and act nothing like my normal behavior.

I’ve never even kissed a guy in front of my parents before, and Kit’s refusal was the only reason we didn’t have sex in their living room.

“Was it good?”

“Yeah. It was … special. But then I woke up the next morning, and it felt hazy. Like this really good dream had ended. And I don’t know how to get back there and stop overthinking everything.”

“Kiss him again,” Margot suggests.

I laugh. “That’s your advice?”

“It sounds like you’re putting up extra caution tape because he’s the father of your kid. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun, Collins. Are you seeing him around the holidays?”

“New Year’s Eve, I think.”

Yesterday, I fielded several phone calls from an event planner named Lucy, who is organizing a New Year’s Eve party that Kit is throwing.

He made it clear that I was invited and also mentioned Lili wouldn’t be back from London yet, as if anticipating me using that excuse.

Technically, I’ll no longer be a Kensington Consolidated employee by then.

“That’s perfect!” Margot exclaims. “Kiss him at midnight. Why don’t we get drinks—I mean, ginger ale for you—next week and make a plan?”

I exhale, chewing on my lower lip. Aside from human resources, Kit is the only one who knows this is my last week at the company. I haven’t told Margot or anyone else I’ve gotten to know here because I’ve been debating how much to say. Especially to Margot, who knows about the pregnancy.

“I, uh … I need to tell you something.”

Margot raises an eyebrow. “Okay …”

“I’m changing jobs. I accepted a paralegal position at a law firm. Friday is my last day, and I start at the firm right after New Year’s. ”

She blinks rapidly. “You’re leaving Kensington Consolidated? Why?”

I shrug a shoulder. “I preferred that work. The only reason I started here was because I couldn’t find a paralegal job in September.

With everything …” I gesture toward my abdomen.

“It just makes more sense for me right now. But I’ll still be in the city.

We can still be friends? Meet at sample sales after work?

Elastic waistbands aren’t going to cut it for much longer.

I’m going to need to shop for actual maternity clothes soon. ”

“ Of course we’ll still be friends, Collins.” Margot pouts. “But I’m going to miss having you just down the hall.”

“I’ll miss it too,” I admit.

Leaving Kensington Consolidated is the right decision. For me and for Kit. He’s worked incredibly hard the past few months for everyone to take him seriously. To admire him for more than his last name. Whatever way I can shield him from the scandal of an unplanned pregnancy, I will.

But I’ll also miss working here. My desk and its brown fern. The glass offices that don’t appear as intimidating anymore. Margot and Stella and Aimee and all the other colleagues who I’ve gotten to know since reluctantly starting here in September.

Margot tilts her head. “Does Kit know?”

“He knows.”

“How did he take it?”

She knows , I realize. Maybe she’s wondered all along. Maybe my sudden departure, right as I start showing, has confirmed a hunch. But I’m suddenly positive Margot is aware Kit’s more than simply my boss.

“Uh, fine,” I respond carefully.

Margot nods. “Be careful, Collins.” She glances at the snow. “ People aren’t talking about Arthur because they’re excited to see him. They’re talking because they’re afraid of him. People with that much money and power … they live in a different world.”

I keep a smile fixed on my face, attempting to ignore the ominous echo in her words. “I’m always careful.”

“… you didn’t trust me to protect you.”

Kit’s angry words from our paternity-test argument echo in my head. At the time, it didn’t occur to me to ask what he’d need to protect me from .

Kit fit in my world seamlessly. I don’t think the same can be said about me in his. Starting Saturday, I might no longer be Kit’s subordinate in the office, but I still will be when it comes to everything else. Money, influence, resources.

“Text me about getting together, okay?” Margot says. “Or if you need to talk.”

I set my mug down on the window ledge and give her a quick hug. “Thank you,” I whisper.

“I’ll miss you,” she whispers back.

I smile sadly over her shoulder, at the snow.