Page 27 of Token

“Just don’t be fake about it.”

Exasperated, Nate threw up his hands, the motion fluttering a small stack of papers on her desk. “First the press conference and now this. Can you cut me some slack? I’m here to put out fires and keep my company out of court and off the Justice Department’s radar. A bit of understanding would be appreciated.”

“Oh, come on. You know you have nothing to fear from the DOJ,” Aurora scoffed. “And this lawsuit will never make it to court. If your legal team doesn’t make that clear to you, then you need to hire another one. The biggest thing at stake is the reputation of your company, and I, for one, will not allow it to be tarnished by this. At least, not for long.”

“Good. That makes two of us,” he said with a soft grunt of agreement.

7

Kennedy waited five minutes after Nate left—without even an au revoir, adios, or sayonara to her, not that she’d expected one—before making a beeline to her best friend’s office.

Aurora stopped typing on the computer when Kennedy sat down in the chair opposite and crossed her legs with an air of studied nonchalance.

She regarded her friend expectantly. “So what’s the verdict? On a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”

Aurora made a face as she leaned forward and set her elbows on the desk. “Six. He’s holding a press conference tomorrow, so hopefully that will take things down to a five.”

Kennedy understood the look. There were about five thousand things Nate enjoyed more than talking to the press, like acid baths and circus clowns—Pennywise really left a mark on him.

“And of course, you’re going to be there, am I right?” It was a rhetorical question. There was no way Aurora wasn’t going.

Propping her chin on her interlaced fingers, her friend released a wispy sigh. “He’s going to need all the support he can get. You know how they can be. You should see what they’re saying on social media. They’re calling Constellationa falling star.” She shivered dramatically. “Those people are brutal. Won’t even wait to hear what the other side has to say.”

Social media also had a way of bringing out the cutting creativity in people, as “Reaching for the Stars” was Constellation’s tagline.

A frisson of guilt shot through her. She could help. A friendwouldhelp.

“That’s social media for you. Kicking a man when he’s down is what it does best. But I wouldn’t worry too much if I were you. You know Nate—he’s a fighter. And remember, he has all those diversity programs he started and is involved with working in his favor. He’s going to be fine.” Better than fine. Knowing him, he’d come out of this being touted as the way CEOs should handle discrimination issues like this.

“What does your day look like tomorrow? Do you have a hole in your schedule between one and three?”

Kennedy feared she looked like a cornered mouse, a cat within pouncing distance.

Aurora read her expression correctly and took out her rarely utilized friend card. “I told you, he’s going to need all the support he can get, and you’re his friend, right?”

The fraught question was impossible to answer truthfully without opening a can of worms.

“All right, fine, then,” Aurora continued, giving her only a beat to respond. “You’re my best friend and he’s my brother and you love me to pieces.”

“Look, I can’t promise you anything, but I’ll have to check my schedule.” Kennedy could have easily made up an appointment and said she was busy. So why hadn’t she?

Because it’s Nate. Your first.

Maybe if his sister wasn’t her best friend and she hadn’t had to interact with him over the years following their—for want of a better word—fling, she wouldn’t still have a soft spot for him.

Aurora smiled. “You’re the best. I’m going to need to reschedule a couple appointments myself.”

“I’ll be there if I can,” Kennedy promised.

Ifshe ended up going, she wouldn’t stay long. She’d be a support beam that faded into the background.

“In other news, what’s going on with Adam Faulkner? Jonathan mentioned he called the agency yesterday. I hope for his sake he doesn’t need your services again.”

Adam Faulkner was the lieutenant governor of New York and Aurora had worked with him at her old crisis-management firm when he’d been accused of accepting gifts from a wealthy donor in exchange for political favors. The corruption case against him had been dropped—the indictment had been shoddy, rushed, and politically motivated—when it came to light that the wealthy donor was Faulkner’s daughter’s godfather, and the gift—a car—had been purchased for said daughter.

As for the political favor? It had been a zoning permit, which was revealed to have been granted to Mr. Leeds two years before the lieutenant governor was elected. Someone had transposed a date and a clerk had been fired to cover for the mistake missed by everyone and their mother.

Fully vindicated, the embattled lieutenant governor had gone on to seek another term, handily winning it in a landslide, because who didn’t love a righteous comeback story?

---