Landon was distantly aware that Gray was speaking, but New York City had moved to the front burner of his thoughts. Dom’s book release parties were a dying breed. He was one of the last authors that publishing houses would give anything to—including an over-the-top launch party complete with trapeze artists and champagne fountains. He’d been to one a few years ago, but he hadn’t seen Kaitlyn there. He was sure he would have recognized her.
“I have to go,” he said abruptly, interrupting whatever Gray was saying now about how Kaitlyn could barely catch a bus without him keeping her on schedule so why didn’t she trust him to hire reliable servers.
“Okay,” Gray said, caught off guard. It was only 6 pm—early for knocking off at the restaurant—but Landon had been putting in far more time than he ever expected. He must have a date with Simone or something, which explained why the leggy brunette hadn’t been around today. Or maybe they were fighting, though Gray had a hard time picturing it. There was something very comfortable and worn-in about their relationship. A fight required a spark, and as beautiful a pair as they made, he hadn’t seen that yet.
“I won’t be in tomorrow,” Landon said. “Call if you need anything though.”
“No problem. Tell Simone I said hi.”
For a moment, Landon’s eyes flickered as though he were placing the name. Then, a beat too late, he said, “Absolutely.”
Gray watched him go, a strange suspicion forming in his mind. Was Landon—but no. Surely he wasn’t going back to the city. Gray must have misread that look in his eye when he read the text message.
It couldn’t have anything to do with Kait.
It didn’t have anything to do with Kaitlyn LeClark, Landon told himself as he called the airport and arranged for his helicopter to be fueled up and ready for him. He’d been cooped up in New Canton all week, and he was bored. Besides, Simone had gone back to the city this morning, claiming her work here was done, and he wasn’t keen on spending quality time with Martha.
He briefly considered calling Simone, but instead, he reached out to Carter.
“I hate that guy,” Carter said promptly. “Count me in.”
For Carter, hating someone was no reason to avoid them. In fact, it was the opposite. He’d go out of his way to use Dom’s new book as a drink coaster, heckle the trapeze artists, and fall face first into the champagne fountain.
Dom would love it. He loved being hated, and he loved it when someone made a good scene. God, New York was weird, Landon realized. And he’d missed the fuck out of it.
It didn’t have anything to do with Kaitlyn LeClark.
She had never looked better in her life, and Kaitlyn was both thrilled and depressed by it. Ironically, Marjorie had pulled from her closet the only little black dress she owned for her to wear, but it was nothing like Kaitlyn would have ever picked out for herself. It was made of silk panels so soft that they felt like rose petals against her skin. The panels were sheer, and it took artful arrangement and a slim gold belt to keep covered what needed to be covered. She’d paired it with heeled booties and left her hair down. Against the black, it glowed like fire. Though the dress barely showed cleavage and fluttered to mid-thigh, it was hands down the sexiest thing that Kait had ever worn, and no one would see her in it.
Half of New York City will see you in it, she corrected herself crossly and finished her second glass of champagne.
“You look amazing,” Marjorie said, joining her at the mirror and frowning at her own reflection as she held different pairs of earrings to her lobes.
“Thanks. I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk in these heels.” Marjorie’s feet were a half size bigger than Kait’s, and she wore her heels an inch taller.
“Then find a chair when we get there because you’re wearing them,” Marjorie advised. She picked a pair of earrings, slid the hooks through her earlobes, and said, “Let’s go.”
The party was already in full swing when they got there. Kait wasn’t surprised to see all of New York’s restaurant elite out in force. They lived for their moment in the sun, when they could come out from the kitchen and bask in the limelight, even if it was another chef’s reflected glory. She was a little surprised to see how many regular celebrities were at the party.
“This is a big deal,” she whispered to Marjorie. “Is that Paul Wizer?”
Paul Wizer was the head of the cooking channel network. Kaitlyn had once dreamed of having her own show on his network, and here he was, eating canapés.
“Didn’t you know?” Marjorie whispered back. “He’s producing a show for Dom.”
Kait was beginning to realize how out of touch she had become in New Canton. The idea made her a little sad.
“Oh no you don’t,” Marjorie said, sensing the shift in her friend’s mood and towing her over to the champagne fountain. “We are going to have fun tonight.”
The attendant at the fountain handed them two silver champagne flutes and pretended not to watch like a hawk while they filled them.
“To fun,” Marjorie said, clicking the rim of her glass against Kait’s.
“To fun,” Kait echoed.
Landon didn’t know if he’d ever seen Kaitlyn having fun. She laughed with Gray and Marjorie, even sometimes with Simone, but he’d never seen her head tipped back, eyes tearing up, face glowing. And he’d definitely never seen her dressed like that.
“Who’s that?” Carter asked, following his line of sight to a beautiful redhead he’d never seen before. God, he loved a natural redhead.
“No one,” Landon said, pulling
