CHAPTER 12: Kennedy Van Buren
Tiger & Mule
Me:Can you meet tomorrow morning to
I stare at my draft. To what? To kiss me? To bend me over the conference table? To…
I backspace.
Me:Tomorrow morning, 9:00. Conference room B at VBC.
Too bitchy.
I delete that, too.
I decide to text Clem instead since we’ve barely talked since we started working even though we live in the same house.
Me:How’s VBC treating you?
Her reply doesn’t come right away. I know I need to get in touch with Madden’s office. We have a ton of project planning to do together up front. Part of our bid had sustainability and environmental goals, and from the start I need to make sure we’re on the same page there. Then there’s the timeline and utilities—something vital to the planning stage because if we’re off on our timelines, construction could be delayed.
It just feels like there’s so much to do, and my dad gave me a laundry list of where to start.
He also gave me complete access to the team here at VBC. I’ll need it, but the best way to learn all this is simply todive straight in. After coffee yesterday, I have a feeling that’s exactly what Madden is doing, and I’m not going to sit back while he one-ups me. I’m going to put in the work and learn this shit so I look informed and prepared for every meeting we have.
I’m placating my dad as I assure him I know what I’m doing. He wasn’t pleased that we’re going to be partnering with Bradley on this, but hewaspleased that our enemy didn’t win the entire bid over us.
Ultimately I chicken out on texting him, and I have my dad’s assistant, who’s working a dual role right now as my assistant, call his office to arrange the meeting.
Tomorrow morning at nine. Conference room B.
Clem writes me back a little before lunchtime.
Clem:Going great! Wanna do lunch together in fifteen minutes?
Me:Yes! Meet you by the elevators!
I’m excited to do lunch with Clem. We’ve been working here for a couple weeks together, and we’ve only done this twice before so far.
It’s always a much-needed break from my day when I get to laugh over lunch with my best friend.
She’s waiting there for me when I approach, and she’s looking all cute in a flowery dress, jean jacket, and large-framed glasses.
“We need to do this more often,” I declare.
She nods and offers a smile. “Now that the first paycheck is in, I absolutely agree.”
We both laugh as we walk down to the sandwich shop on the corner, still early enough to hopefully miss the lunchtime rush. Lucky for us, there’s no line. We place our orders, and Clem excuses herself to the restroom while I wait for our sandwiches.
I’m in la-la-land as I think about what I’m going to wear Friday morning to my meeting with the hot football star I hate when a deep voice rasps low beside me.
“Couldn’t rack up the nerve to call me yourself?”
Chills race down my spine as my body seems to physically react to his proximity.
I whirl on him, practically knocking into him but instead stopping myself with my hands on his very firm, very broad, very sexy chest. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
Seriously, Kennedy?What are you doing here? Could I not have come up with at least a semi-intelligent response? Clearly no.