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Fair question, Nate silently acknowledged, but it didn’t explain why the company couldn’t find their copy of the damn thing.

“She probably misplaced it.”

Nate slanted him a look. “I don’t know. It might look like we’re hiding something.”

Jack let out a short laugh. “Hide what?” Pulling his hands from his pockets, he raised them in surrender.Check me, I’m clean.“We’ve got nothing to hide.”

Nate couldn’t afford to have his CTO’s confidence, not when there was so much at stake: the company’s reputation, employee morale. Not being able to attract top-notch talent would affect the company’s ability to grow.

“Didn’t you read the lawsuit in full? In thatmissingreview, she claims Flynn promised her the position that went to Brent.”

Duncan Flynn, the director of Project Management, couldn’t have picked a worse time to get married. Sun, warm weather, clear blue skies, and sandy beaches... What sane man would opt for that when he could be in Manhattan, where the humidity was 500 percent? Currently, the lucky bastard was in Greece on his honeymoon and wouldn’t be returning to work for another two weeks. Jack had left a message at the emergency number Flynn had provided but had yet to hear back. Undoubtedly for a good reason. He was busy screwing his new wife.

“As far as I’m aware, Duncan always had Brent in mind for the position when it opened up. It makes no sense he’d promise it to Alberta.”

“Fine, but we’ve got to get our hands on the damn performance review. I don’t care what it takes—I want it for the next meeting Legal has with their lawyers.” His current and former employees were being represented by Goldberg & Johnson. If this had happened four years ago, the law firm would more likely be defending Constellation.

Funny how things change with time.

Not that he’d have wanted them representing the company. He wasn’t out to crush his workers. No, his goal was to do whatever he had to do to make things right, and if that meant signing his name on a big fat check, so be it. They had more than enough money. What was most important were the results of the investigation. Did the allegations have merit, and could they be validated? If so, he wanted the problem fixed, and he’d do whatever it took to get it done. Constellation wasn’t the most diverse tech company in the industry by accident. He and his team had put the process in place to make it happen. But if there was something wrong in the gears, he wanted it fixed.

Jack nodded. “Aye, aye, boss. I’ll see what I can do.” Before leaving, he paused at the door. “You’re absolutelysureyou don’t want me to do this presser?” He quirked a brow. “Or I could stand up there behind you, you know, for moral support?”

“Nah. It’ll look better if I’m standing there alone. Just me taking responsibility and willing to field questions from reporters.”

“All right, then, I’ll just stand in the back. See you in a few. And good luck.”

After Jack’s departure, Nate stared at the empty doorway.

Good luck.

He looked at his statement and prayed much wouldn’t be needed.

The founders of tech giants had become a common source of news over the years; their hobbies, their passions, their philanthropy, their politics. But toss in the controversy of a lawsuit alleging racial and gender discrimination and the media would break down the door with a battering ram for a story, although—to be fair—they much preferred to be invited in. Which was why Kennedy wasn’t surprised by the size of the crowd gathered in the lobby of Constellation’s headquarters, a portion of which had been roped off for the occasion.

An impressive bit of architecture here, with lots of glass, light wood, and geometric elements throughout. The ceiling loomed three or four stories above and contained bright recessed lighting.

A glance at her watch had her quickening her pace. The press conference should be starting soon. On her way to her destination—preferably a spot in the back—she caught a glimpse of Aurora. She was sitting in the front row, chatting with the woman next to her, her hands gesturing as if she had more than a drop of Italian blood in her. On any other day, Kennedy would have joined her, but today she aimed to be as unobtrusive as possible...which must be the reason that this morning, of all days, she’d gone to her closet and pulled out a sleeveless multicolored “look at me” floral wrap dress to wear to work. Plus, every seat in the place was taken and thestanding room onlyarea was already three rows deep.

She found a spot near the floor-to-ceiling windows behind a cluster of women. Thankfully, they were all shorter than her, meaning she’d have an unobstructed view of Nate when he finally took his place behind the podium set up at the front.

“Are you a member of the press?”

Kennedy gave a slight start, her head swiveling to take in the man who now occupied the spot next to her. He looked to be in his mid to late thirties and had dark hair, a prominent nose, squinty Clint Eastwood eyes, and a wiry build. In her heels, they stood around the same height, putting him just shy of six feet. Judging by his attire—blue slacks, a white shirt, and a matching blazer—she pegged him as an employee. The male reporters wore ties.

“No, I’m not.”

“And you’re not an employee, because I would have remembered you,” he replied, but not in a way that gave her the impression he was coming on to her. Just a simple statement of fact.

“But clearly you are,” Kennedy said, making sure to keep an eye on what was going on up front.

His mouth quirked. “That I am. Jack Walters, chief technology officer.” His chin dipped in an informal nod of greeting. “And you are?”

“Kennedy Mitchell.” If she were keeping to the example he set, she would have tagged onsmall-business owner.

“So, Kennedy Mitchell, what brings you to my neck of the woods if you’re not here to give my boss a hard time?”

At that, she smiled to herself. Give Nate a hard time indeed. After vacillating all morning, she’d caved. She’d made the decision to come by, telling herself she’d be a familiar and friendly face in the midst of a sometimes aggressive and unforgiving press.

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