Page 17 of Token

Aidan had met her older sister last year when Cheryl visited from Raleigh. They’d gotten on as well as Kennedy could hope. Her boyfriend set out to charm, and since prickly and suspicious toward all men (with the exception of her husband, brothers, and their father) was her sister’s default disposition, the fact that Cheryl hadn’t told her todump his sorry assspoke volumes.

“Your champagne, sir.” The black-and-white-uniformed maître d’ appeared out of nowhere—the restaurant was dimly lit and he had stealth and size on his side—and placed two empty flutes on the table.

Kennedy shot her boyfriend a look of surprise. He flashed her a secretive smile.

Nervous laughter bubbled in her throat. “Wha—what’s going on? Are we celebrating something?”

Aidan’s mouth twitched, but he remained silent.

And then with all the dramatics and flourish of a matador entering the ring, the maître d’popped the cork and filled the glasses before departing with a formal bow, because apparently it was going to be that kind of dining experience.

“Did you get a promotion? Am I sitting across from the new vice president of Business Development?” she asked, hopeful.

Aidan worked for FastTrack, a light-rail manufacturer that was developing passenger trains for future high-speed rail service around the country. His boss had retired last month and Aidan was in line for his position.

Instead of answering, he handed her one of the glasses and then picked up the other one.

She gave a confused laugh. “You’re not going to tell me?”

Without removing his gaze from hers, he reached slowly into the inner pocket of his jacket and retrieved a black velvet jewelry box. He placed it in front of her, opening it with the flick of his thumb.

“Will you marry me?”

It happened simultaneously, Kennedy clapping her eyes on the ring and the question hitting her eardrums with noise-canceling clarity.

The last time a man proposed to her had been six years ago. Eight years her senior, Malcolm had wanted to marry and settle down. She’d been twenty-three, working a full-time job as well as attending evening classes in pursuit of her master’s degree. A night full of promise, and good food and music, went south faster than they could finish their wine. Sadly, she saw this one heading in the same trajectory.

Slowly, she lifted her gaze from the gorgeous square-cut diamond to the expectation in his dark brown eyes. And just like that, his expression altered.

He knew.

She didn’t even have to say the words.

With the exhalation of one long ragged breath, Aidan deflated before her very eyes. “In my experience, tears of joy usually come with a smile, and you’re not smiling.”

Tears?Kennedy tentatively touched her face, and only then did she realize her cheek was wet, proving that guilt and sorrow were a potent mix of emotions. Her hand trembled as she placed the untouched glass of champagne back on the table. “Marriage is such a huge step, and we’re just getting the agency off the ground, and—”

“We don’t have to get married right away.”

Ugh.She should have kept her big mouth shut instead of trying to justify what they both knew was a refusal. Instead, she’d opened the door just enough to give him room to try to slip through.

“Aid, I’m not ready. I’m not ready for any of it,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. Abject misery. More tears fell, slow and relentless.

For what seemed like forever, but in reality was probably only seconds, he stared at her, his expression retreating behind a mask of inscrutability. Suddenly, his hand shot out, snapped the jewelry box closed, and returned it to his pocket.

Kennedy blinked at the suddenness of the action. As if he wanted to take it back. The proposal. The ring. Everything.

A crash of thunder quickly followed a flash of lightning, briefly lighting up the Manhattan skyline. Because of course, thunder and lightning were the appropriate end to the evening.

“I’m sorry.” She could apologize until the cows came home, but she knew it wouldn’t make a difference. Aidan would never be able to forgive her. His pride wouldn’t allow it. For all intents and purposes, he was a catch. He was a good-looking, highly educated Black man making it in corporate America. He wasn’t going places—he had arrived.

Kennedy started when pelting rain began to splatter the windows a foot from them. Meanwhile, Aidan continued to study her.

“Can I ask you a question?” The bass in his voice was more pronounced than usual.

No, this whole thing is hard enough. No more.“Of course.”

“Are you saying you’d have said yes if not for your agency?”

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