Page 58

FIFTY-EIGHT

Kinsley

I hold my head up high, mustering all the false bravado I have as I walk into Peterson, Peterson, and Salinger for my job interview.

It’s a part-time position, one that will work perfectly with all Colin’s extra speech therapy. It’s far enough from my old firm that there’s no way I’ll accidentally run into them . Basically, this job is perfect. And I’ll be back on a floor with the junior associates, no owner in sight. It really is a dream job.

The only drawback is that it’s corporate law, but you know, I think I could use something with a little less drama.

This is the beginning of a new life. A new me. One without three particular men who don’t have an ounce of trust in me. After yesterday, I’m sure I won’t see them again anyway.

I rub my sternum as I walk into the elevator and press the button for the ninth floor. There’s a pain in my chest, a dull throbbing, and no matter what I do, it doesn’t go away. Hopefully, with time, it will. I need to move on, to forget, or at the very least put the past behind me and stop living in it.

“Can I help you?” A pretty brunette greets me with a smile as soon as I get off the elevator.

I run my hands down the side of my dress, both to smooth out any wrinkles and to dry my damp palms. “I’m Kinsley Rhodes; I have an interview with Mr. Allen.”

“Oh, yes. There’s been a slight change of plans. Mr. Salinger wanted to sit in on the interview, so you’ll want to go one floor up.” She must notice the face I’m making because she quickly laughs and adds, “Don’t worry; Mr. Salinger is very nice.”

Thank God for small miracles. Hopefully nice and happily married. This whole thing is giving me a strange sense of déjà vu, and I can’t say I like it. If they offer me some kind of quasi promotion on the spot, I’m walking out of here and will be done with law for a while.

After giving her a quick thank you, I’m back in the elevator and walking out on the tenth floor. I’m greeted by a man in a polo and khaki shorts. At least he looks friendly.

“Miss Rhodes?” At my nod, he claps his hands. “Excellent, I have everything set up for your interview in the conference room. Let me show you the way, then I’ll get Mr. Salinger.”

“That would be great; thank you very much.”

I dutifully follow him to the back corner. It’s a bit displaced from the rest of the office, and I can’t help but wonder why their conference room is way back here. Seems inconvenient, but it’s not my firm. I don’t judge. I mean, I do, but not out loud.

“Mr. Salinger and Mr. Allen will be here momentarily. Please make yourself comfortable.” He waves toward the doorway, his smile pleasant. “There’s water, coffee, and some snacks on the table. Please don’t hesitate to help yourself.”

I give him a tight nod and what I hope is a genuine smile. “Thank you so much.”

He nods and scurries off almost immediately, leaving me standing out here like a dumbass. I walk into the conference room, and the door closes behind me with a thud. The smile falls straight off my face and…I must be having a stroke because there’s no fucking way Wyatt, Brantley, and Maverick are standing in here right now.

Not after I told them to move on yesterday and not when I’m supposed to be here for a job interview.

Hell, my job interview.

Was this whole thing one big set up to trap me here?

Nope. I don’t think so.

I whirl around, but Wyatt is standing against the door, blocking my way out. Brantley and Maverick are standing off to the side, and they’re all staring at me so intently it pisses me off.

They tricked me.

And for what?

Their own amusement.

Anger simmers through my veins, and my fingers flex at my sides. “What the fuck are you three doing here?”

Wyatt holds up his hands like he’s surrendering, but doesn’t leave from in front of the door. “You have every right to be pissed at us, but we need to talk to you.”

“You were right about everything. You were being set up.” Brantley hangs his head for a moment, and when his gaze meets mine, I feel a zing of indignation.

“No shit.” I plant my hands on my hips and take a deep breath, hating how they all smell so darn good. “I told you it wasn’t me.”

“We should have listened to you.” This coming from Wyatt who was so sure I was in league with their nemesis.

I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t want to know, but I find myself asking, “Who was it?”

“James and Brianna. He didn’t like how close you’d gotten to us and wanted to see you tossed out on your ass. And Brianna was jealous. She’d been vying for a promotion for years, and when you got it over her, she roped James into her plans.”

Well, James I expected, but Brianna? What a freaking backstabbing bitch. She was my one true work friend, my lunch buddy; at least, that’s what I thought. Sure, I kinda vanished for a bit after I got promoted, but she was the one who begged me to come back to the lunchroom. And she volunteered to help out when I was planning on being gone for Colin’s surgery.

I thought she was so nice.

Turns out she wanted to push me out of the office so she could sit in my chair permanently.

At least she’s out on her ass now, because I know one thing is for certain—there’s no way she was allowed to keep her position. But I guess it is what it is. I'll never have to see her ass again. In the grand scheme of things, she’s insignificant. Her betrayal doesn’t matter. Theirs does.

“We were wrong.” Brantley swallows hard and takes a step toward me. He raises a hand, like he’s about to stroke my face, but then drops it to his side. “I was wrong. I let my history with Thomas cloud my judgment. I couldn’t see the truth, only the deceptive webs my own brain fabricated because it was convinced he was involved. I should have listened to you, and I’m so sorry I didn’t.”

Wyatt takes a step forward, his guard dropped, pain etched across his face. “I’m sorry I lost my faith in you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize what was happening sooner.” Maverick hangs his head and shoves his hands in his pockets.

I take two steps back, taking breath after breath, trying to stay strong, to keep them from piercing the armor I’ve built around myself. “That’s all well and good, but you didn’t trust me. None of you. I’m not sure I can forgive that.”

“We realize we fucked up, and we’re willing to do whatever it takes to make it right.”

“What will it take, dove?” Brantley pins me in place with his emerald gaze, the intensity of his eyes jarring me. “Do you need me to get down on my knees and beg for your forgiveness?”