Page 5 of Mad Rivals (The Bradley Legacy #1)

Grande Iced Brown Sugar Oat Milk Shaken Espresso

I stare at my clothes as I try to figure out what to wear, and ultimately I go with my interview outfit—a knee-length black dress with a collar that buttons down to the belt and, of course, pockets, because what good is a dress without pockets?

I pair it with some demure black heels, and I glance in the mirror. I look professional and savvy and ready to stand quietly by my father’s side while he asks the important questions.

To that end, I decide to hit up Starbucks before I head into the office.

Clem went straight in since she has to fill out the paperwork with HR. I didn’t need to since I’ve been on the payroll since I was fourteen—and before that, my parents would just pay me under the table.

I guess working for Mom and Dad won’t be all bad.

And Clem’s got a good start as a junior assistant to the sales department. We won’t get to see each other too often at the office, but eventually I’m hoping I can move her to be my assistant.

I place my mobile order after I park in the parking garage, and I head to the Starbucks just down the block from the skyscraper in the Loop where my dad’s office is located .

I’m glad I went with my professional heels and not the Louboutins with the red bottoms. Those are gorgeous, and they’re my favorite…but the heel gets stuck in every crack on the sidewalk, and I likely would’ve fallen ten times by now.

When I arrive, I spot the line out the door to order coffee. People and their caffeine addictions.

Not that I’m any better. Thank God for the app.

I manage to wrestle my way inside, but it’s crowded and chaotic as I make my way toward the mobile pickup area.

I check for my name.

No Kennedy tags sitting in the mobile pickup, so I cross my arms over my chest and wait.

Someone bumps into me—surely by accident, so I’m not really offended—and I glance over in that direction only to be met with possibly the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen.

Our eyes lock, my hazel ones with his dark brown, and a little tingle of something races down my spine as my stomach flips.

Holy hell, he’s hot.

Wavy, dark hair that’s definitely styled with some sort of pomade but still looks natural. A bit of scruff on his jaw to give him that bad boy edge. He’s wearing a suit, but a quick glance tells me he most definitely works out and he’s hiding a powerful, gorgeous body beneath that suit.

There’s something familiar about him, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.

Is this the kind of guy who works in these parts? Because, my God, I’ve been missing out. I could’ve been working here the last five years and met him and maybe we’d already be married with a kid or two…

He cuts into those fantasies with, “Sorry about that.” His voice is deep, sexy, and a bit commanding as his hand comes up to my arm to steady me.

Oh my God, he’s touching me.

My brain seems to short-circuit as I focus on the fact that his hand is currently branding my skin with heat, and I really want to look over at said hand to see if there’s a gold band encircling his ring finger, but I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his.

“Are you okay?” he asks, prompting my brain to try to figure out how to collect itself.

I nod as I blink. “Totally.”

Totally ? Really, Kennedy?

I clear my throat awkwardly.

“This location is always like this,” he mutters.

“Do you come here a lot?” I ask.

He lifts a shoulder. “Not a lot. Just when I head into the office.”

“Do you work from home?” I ask, suddenly wanting to know everything I can about this man.

He twists his lips, and I get the sudden, overwhelming vision of what those lips would feel like dragging along my skin. Across my stomach. Down to my hip. Along my thigh. Into my—

“Something like that,” he says. “What about you? I’ve never seen you in here.”

I raise a brow. “You say that like you were looking for me.”

He raises one back. “Maybe I was.” He leans in. “Trust me, with all these assholes in suits, it’s refreshing to find someone who looks like you in here.”

“Like me?” I ask, my hand flying to my chest as heat rushes into my cheeks.

I’m positive I’m as red as a tomato, but there’s not much I can do about that.

“Like you don’t know you’re gorgeous.” His eyes flick from mine down my frame, and my pulse races. “But you didn’t answer my question. Do you work nearby?”

Jeez. This guy. He just called me gorgeous, and I’m still buzzing from that, but he’s trying to have a conversation, and he flew over it like it wasn’t any big deal when I don’t know if a man this hot has ever even entered my orbit, let alone complimented me the way he just did.

I need a minute here .

And caffeine.

It’s why I’m here, after all. Not to bump into Hottie McHotface.

I know he asked a question, but I can’t remember the answer. Or the question. Or my own name.

“Mobile grande iced brown sugar oat milk shaken espresso,” the barista yells, and that seems to snap the trance I’m in.

We both move for the counter at the same time, and we both reach for the cup at the same time.

Our fingers touch as we each lay claim to the same drink, and then the barista clarifies things for us.

“For Bradley.”

Aha! I have a name. Bradley.

And the fact that he orders the same thing as me at Starbucks.

“Are you Kennedy?” the barista asks, and I stare at her blankly. Is that my name? I’m not really sure.

She gives me a strange look, and I think I nod as she says, “Yours is up next.”

“Guess I got my order in seconds before you, Kennedy,” Bradley says with a grin, and he holds up his espresso.

I know it’s a popular drink—maybe the most popular drink at Starbucks, and it’s loaded with caffeine, which is why we’re here in the first place. But we ordered the same drink . That has to mean something.

“Guess you did, Bradley.” I flash him a smile, and I’m not sure why my banter isn’t bantering this morning, but he really does something to my brain.

“Well, I better get to the office,” he finally says, and it could just be me projecting my wants onto him, but I swear I hear a bit of reluctance in his tone.

“Me too. Enjoy your grande iced brown sugar oat milk shaken espresso,” I say. Why do I say it with finality, like this is goodbye? I should leave a door open or exchange numbers or… something .

He holds up his coffee. “You too.” He smiles one last time at me, and since he didn’t ask for my number, I suppose I’m left to assume he’s taken.

Of course he’s taken. He’s friggin’ gorgeous. That smile he gave me was one of those panty-droppers. You know, the kind that would make any woman strip naked just for a shot.

But this is a hell of a way to start my first day at the office, and maybe with any luck at all, I’ll run into him again.

I guess I’ll be stopping at Starbucks every morning going forward into forever at this exact time just for that potential chance.

I walk back to my dad’s office building with shaky knees as I try to brush off that encounter.

It should be a simple task, but the truth is that I haven’t had a hot guy look in my direction in far, far too long. Not that he looked in my direction as anything more than apologetic after bumping into me, but damn…I looked at him with more than just irritation that he bumped into me.

As Clem would say, it’s getting dusty down there, and I need something other than my little magical electronic helper to breathe some life into that territory.

A hot guy like Bradley the grande iced brown sugar oat milk shaken espresso guy.

It’s been too long. Far too long. So long I’m pretty sure I forgot how to do it.

The truth is, I’ve never been in a serious relationship.

The boys in high school were just that…boys in high school. I lost my virginity my freshman year of college, and it wasn’t really anything to write home about. Not that you’d write home about losing your virginity…

Jeez. This guy really jumbled me up this morning. He called me gorgeous.

Me.

Gorgeous .

I have to shake it off. I have a meeting to get to, and I need to at least act like I know what the hell I’m doing at this bid walk.

I sigh with hearts in my eyes as I step onto the elevator, suck in some deep breaths on the ride up, and meet my dad in his office. He glances at his watch and raises a brow like I’m late, but I’m not.

Well, that stern look pretty much pushes hot Bradley right out of my mind. I need to focus. Pull it together, Van Buren!

He told me to be here at nine, and I have an entire eight minutes to spare. He taught me to arrive early or not to show up at all, and I took that to heart.

I push aside the annoyance I feel. I can’t get worked up every time he glances at his watch and gives me a stern glance. I remind myself that he’s my boss here, not Dad…not that Dad would give me fewer stern glances, to be honest.

He fills me in on what we’re going to be doing at the bid walk. I might be a little rusty, but it’s not my first time. I scribble down some notes to make it look like I’m listening, and then we head down to the car waiting out front for us to take us to the site.