Page 46 of Anti-Hero (Kensingtons: The Next Generation #2)

Kit: Cantaloupe.

Kit: How big is a cantaloupe? I’ve only seen it cut up.

Collins: Big enough that none of my clothes fit.

“ T here was a package delivered for you earlier, Mr. Kensington,” the doorman tells me as I enter the lobby of my building. “It was oversize, so I had it moved to your hallway.”

“Thanks, Samuel,” I say, continuing into the elevator. As it rises, I text Bash.

Kit: You ready?

It’s Sunday, but I had to go into the office to prep for my trip to Phoenix tomorrow. I have a meeting with several board members of a newspaper we’re in negotiations with. Eight hours of travel for an hour-long meeting. I should be excited about the opportunity, but I’m kind of dreading the trip.

No immediate response comes through from Bash.

I sigh. He’s home on winter break, crashing with me again, and annoyed I told him he needs to move out by tomorrow.

Not only is Collins moving into my place in a few days, but Bash is currently sleeping in the room that’s going to be the nursery.

If he continues pouting during dinner, Dad’s going to get suspicious.

The doors open on my floor. I glance up from my phone, startled by the sight of my dad standing in the hallway.

“Hey. What are you doing here?” I ask. “I thought Bash and I were meeting you at the restaurant.”

“I was running early,” my dad clips. “Thought I’d pick you boys up instead.”

I frown, confused by his curt tone. He was the one who planned this guys’ night, and now he’s acting like?—

“Care to explain this?” My dad steps to his left, revealing the package Samuel must have been referring to.

It is oversize. I can see why they didn’t store it behind the desk downstairs. And the crib printed on the side of the box is a dead giveaway about its contents.

I swallow hard. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck . “Any chance you can pretend you never saw that?”

“What is a crib doing in your hallway, Christopher?” he thunders.

Guess not.

I drag my thumb along the bottom of my mouth, searching for the right words. I’ve had months to figure out how to break this news to my dad, and I still haven’t come up with the right way to. “This wasn’t how I wanted you to find out,” I finally state.

“Find out what ? Is your housekeeper expecting? Did they deliver to the wrong address? Please, tell me this is not what it looks?—”

“She’s due in May,” I state. “And I wanted to tell you and Mom sooner—I planned to tell you sooner—but I needed time to wrap my head around it first.”

Total silence follows that admission. It expands, filling the hallway with its suffocating weight.

I try again, aiming for a little levity. “So, uh, congrats. You’ll be a grandfather soon.”

More silence.

My dad’s expression might as well be carved from marble.

Maybe I should have held off on dropping the G-word.

Uneasily, I realize this is probably what Collins was looking at when she told me the news. I’ve never seen my father freeze before. He’s always competent. Always prepared. Always expecting the unexpected.

I scramble for something— anything —reassuring to say. “I was going to tell you and Mom later this week. Once Lili was home.”

Still, he says nothing. I might as well be conversing with a statue.

My front door opens .

“Kit? What’s—Dad?” Bash glances back and forth between me and our father, his phone in one hand. I didn’t even realize mine had been buzzing in my pocket. “Weren’t we meeting you at the restaurant?”

“Uh …” I rub at the back of my neck.

Dad unfreezes to point at the crib leaning against the wall. “Your brother was just explaining this .”

Bash follows his finger. “ Oh . Right.”

Dad reads his lack of reaction correctly. “You knew about this, Sebastian?”

Bash grimaces, glancing at me, then back at Dad. “Well, uh, sort of. I mean, Kit mentioned it at Thanksgiving, so I’ve known about it for a little?—”

“Thanksgiving? You’ve known your brother was expecting a baby for six weeks ?”

“Wasn’t my news to share, Dad. Kit and Collins are the ones who … yeah. I’m gonna go … anywhere else.”

Bash spots the same switch on my dad’s face I do when he mentions Collins’s name. And comes to the right conclusion—I hadn’t gotten around to the whole who’s having my kid part of the story yet.

The front door closes a second later, emphasizing the total silence that follows the soft click .

At first, I think I’m in for another round of silent treatment.

When my dad speaks, his voice is dangerously low and even. A tone I haven’t heard since the whole Monaco police incident Collins loves to rib me about. “Collins? Collins Tate ?”

I exhale. “Yes.”

He laughs. It’s incredulous, not amused. “You knocked up your assistant , Christopher? An employee at the company?”

“She wasn’t my assistant at the time.” I doubt my dad’s bothered to do the math back from May yet. “And she’s not my assistant anymore.”

They’re both weak arguments, but technically true. It could be worse.

Dad frowns. “Not your assistant anymore? What do you mean?”

“Her last day was the week before Christmas. She’s working at a law firm now.”

Rather than appear relieved, my dad looks even angrier. “You fired her?”

I scowl, pissed off by the assumption. “What? No. Of course not. She wanted to leave. Changing jobs was her decision.”

“This is unbelievable. A lawsuit waiting to happen. You understand that, right? I can only assume that’s why you hid?—”

“I didn’t hide anything,” I retort. “I’ve just been waiting for the right … time to tell you.”

“You mean, you were waiting until she no longer worked for you.” My dad shakes his head. “That’s not a magical solution. How could you have been so …” My dad tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling.

“I get you’re upset, Dad. But a lawsuit isn’t something you need to be concerned about. Collins wouldn’t?—”

“You don’t know what she would or wouldn’t do.

You’re not married to this woman, Christopher.

You’ve known her for a few months! We’re not just talking about your trust fund, although your personal finances are a concern.

You’ve opened the entire company to a massive liability.

I thought you’d outgrown being this careless and irresponsible and?—”

“She. Wouldn’t. Do. That.” I emphasize each word my father doesn’t seem to be hearing.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket. “I need to let Oliver and the legal department know about the situation immediately. After she signs an NDA, then we can deal with?—”

“She’s not signing a damn thing, Dad. You want to know why I didn’t tell you sooner? This . We’re not talking about a business transaction here. We’re talking about the mother of my child.”

“If you hadn’t hired her at Kensington Consolidated, I’d agree this was your decision, albeit an ill-advised one.

But your naivete is not going to be what topples a company worth billions, employing thousands, that’s been in our family for generations.

And your recent choices have me second-guessing if you should be a part of that company at all. ”

He strides past me, toward the elevator.

“ Dad ,” I snap.

“What?” He turns, focused on his phone. Probably emailing his legal team.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He glances up. “Forgetting what?”

“We can cancel dinner. But I thought somewhere between lecturing me and legal documents, it might occur to you to say congratulations .”

My dad shakes his head. “Don’t try to turn this around on me, Christopher. You are the one who lied for months. If I hadn’t seen that”—he points toward the crib—“I’d still be in the dark. Keeping a secret like that? That’s not the son I raised.”

I stare, stunned and pissed, as my dad disappears into the elevator.

When I carry the crib into my penthouse, Bash is leaning against the entryway wall.

He raises an eyebrow. “Dinner’s off?”

I huff a laugh, yanking harshly at my tie. “Yeah.”

“Dad took it well. ”

I snort.

“He’ll get over it, Kit.”

I lean the crib against the wall. “We’ll see.”

“Can I be there when you tell Lili?”

“After your super unhelpful contribution earlier? I’m going to tackle it solo, thanks.”

“Dad was going to find out it was her, Kit.”

I sigh. “I know.”

“Want help with that?” He nods toward the crib.

“Maybe later,” I respond.

With the mood I’m currently in, I’m more likely to break the bars than assemble it correctly.

Bash nods and pushes away from the wall. “I’ll order us some pizzas.”