Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Kate forced a smile. Loss was such an insignificant word, but she appreciated the sentiment. “Thank you.” Desperate to change the subject, lest the tears start coming before her day even began, Kate leaned down to look at the screen. “Is there any time they’re all available today?”
“Let’s see . . . They’ve all got a gap at eleven.”
“Perfect. Can you put me on their calendars?”
“Sure thing. Whose office?”
“Matt’s. It’s the biggest.”
“Really?” Christian said as he typed. “I actually thought Kennedy’s had the most space.”
It did. But it was also Kennedy’s turf. And if Kate had any hope of surviving this day without a breakdown, she needed to keep as much emotional distance from Kennedy Dawson as possible.
“Have I mentioned it’s good to have you back?” Ian said, scooping Kate up off the floor, her flats dangling at about his shins.
“About ten times,” she said, patting his head. “Now put me down.”
“Or what?”
She kicked his shin in response, and he grunted, setting her back on her feet. “Fair enough.”
“I’m damn glad you’re back, too, but I have to give the new kid credit,” Matt said around a mouthful of potato chips that were apparently his prelunch. “He managed to keep my calendar in order. No easy task.”
“Understatement,” Kate said, glancing at her phone for the time. “Is Kennedy joining or what?”
“Or what? I’m thirty seconds early.”
She ordered herself not to tense up at the sound of his voice, and though she was pretty sure she succeeded, there was nothing she could do about her quickened heartbeat or slightly sweaty palms.
Kate forced herself to paste on the same bright smile she’d given the other guys. “Hey! Long time no see!”
His eyebrows went up. Really?
Kate looked away from his silent challenge.
“Good to have you back,” Kennedy replied.
Kate risked another glance his way. She’d been expecting sarcasm—or more likely irritation—at the fact that she hadn’t returned a single one of his texts. Instead, his tone was casual but genuine. Not quite indifferent, but he also hardly looked like a man who’d been losing sleep over her radio silence.
Had he even noticed?
“So what’s up?” Matt said, gesturing for Kate to sit in one of his two guest chairs. She did, mostly because Ian and Kennedy towered above her whether she was sitting or standing. Might as well be comfortable.
“So, Christian,” she said. “You guys said he’s been great.”
“Sure,” Matt said with a quick glance over at Ian, then Kennedy.
“Good. Facilities is coming up this afternoon to install a new desk for him.”
“Uh. What?”
“There’s plenty of room,” she said. “The space is meant to fit desks for three people.”
“I don’t think the space is the question,” Ian said slowly. “And I’ll preface this by saying we’ll support whatever you want, whatever you need, but do you plan on Christian sticking around for longer than a day or two of transition?”
Kate had expected this to be harder, but with the moment upon her, she felt more confident than ever that she was making the right decision. Still, she chose her words carefully. “You know I love working here. For all of you. It’s been the biggest part of my life for so long, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about the past few years.”
“But?” Matt asked.
“But,” she continued, increasingly aware that Kennedy hadn’t said a word since she started talking but not brave enough to glance his way. “It’s a lot. Working for all three of you. Three schedules, three sets of clients, three inboxes, three sets of demands. Plus being the point person for many of the other admins.”
“It’s too much,” Ian said quietly. Not a question. “It would be for anyone.”
Kate glanced at him in relief. “It’s more than I want right now. I can’t stress how much I’ve loved it, but losing Dad . . .” She looked down at her hands and swallowed the lump in her throat. “Life is so short. You think you have time to do all of the things, and then—”
“What sorts of things?” Kennedy asked, speaking up for the first time.
“What?” She glanced at him and found him watching her with an unreadable mask.
“You want to work less so you have more time to do other things. I was just curious what sorts of things.”
“Oh. Right. I don’t really know,” she said, tearing her gaze away. “I’ve just realized that for the past six years, I’ve had sort of a single-minded focus on work.”
And you, she thought, deliberately not glancing at Kennedy.
But how did you tell someone—even friends—that you’d realized it was time to stop caring so much about a few things and instead wanted to care a little about a lot of things? That way, if fate rolled the dice to take one of those things away from you, it wouldn’t hurt so damn badly.
“I think maybe it’s time to develop some hobbies,” she added. “Or, I don’t know, work out. Yoga? Barre?”