Julie James - About That Night

Ah…finally, Kyle understood what was going on here.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about him.

For years, he’d played the field, always keeping things fun and casual, never taking the time to get too serious with any woman. Even with Daniela, he’d held back, not truly letting her in. But that wasn’t the case with Rylann. Their relationship hadn’t been all about wining and dining—it had been real. He’d opened up to her, had even told her private things about his family, and now here he was, putting his cards on the table—and hoping that what she’d seen these past few weeks had been enough to win her over. Because, for him, these past few weeks had been perfect—and everything he never knew he always wanted in a relationship.

And yet, seemingly, it still wasn’t enough for her.

Not much else a man could say in these circumstances.

He stepped closer and gently cupped her chin. “The difference between you and me, counselor, is that I don’t need more time. I know how I feel. You love your job—I understand that. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. But I haven’t waited thirty-three years to find something real, only to settle for always being second place in your heart. I want more than that.”

Rylann put her hand on his, her eyes filled with emotion. “Kyle…don’t do this. I never said you were second place.”

“You didn’t have to say it, Rylann,” he said softly.

Because he knew it anyway.

So he lowered his head and kissed her forehead in good-bye. Then he steeled his heart, not looking back when she called his name, and walked out of her apartment for good.

LATER THAT EVENING, Kyle walked into EPIC, a loft-style restaurant located in the city’s River North area, and spotted his family—future brother-in-law included—sitting at a table near the back.

Jordan had called him earlier and had mentioned that she’d invited Nick to join them for dinner. She’d said it hesitantly, as if worried he might be offended that she’d included him in their yearly tradition.

“You don’t have to run it by me, Jordo,” he’d said. “Nick and I are cool now.”

“Aw, you two really have bonded,” she’d said teasingly. “That’s so cute.”

“Yeah.”

There was a long silence on the phone.

“That’s it?” Jordan had asked. “No sarcastic response?” Her tone immediately turned worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just distracted with work,” he’d lied. “I’ll see you later, at the restaurant.” Then he’d hung up the phone before she could ask any more questions. He simply wanted to get through the dinner with his family as painlessly as possible, so he could get home and try to forget what a royally shitty day this had been.

As he approached the table, he put on a smile and acted casual. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic on the Drive was murder.” He sat down at the empty seat between Nick and his father and picked up the menu in front of him. “So what looks good?”

When nobody answered him, he peered over his menu and saw three pairs of eyes staring incredulously at him.

“You’re really going to make us ask?” Grey said.

Kyle shot Jordan a look of death from across the table. What did you tell Dad?

Nothing, she glared back. “Your deal with Twitter?” she prompted him.

Oh. Right. He’d forgotten that he hadn’t spoken to either his sister or father about that yet. They’d called as soon as the press release had gone out, but he’d been busy talking to prospective clients and, later, on his date with Rylann.

Hard to believe that was less than twenty-four hours ago. Last night had been incredible, and then within the blink of an eye, everything had changed.

Better to know now where you stand with her.

Yeah, well, that was what he was telling himself, anyway.

“I came up with the idea when I was in prison,” Kyle said, in response to their question. “Four months behind bars gives a man a lot of time to brainstorm.” He took a sip of water.

Grey laughed. “That’s all you’re going to say? You’re not usually so modest.”

Jordan eyed him suspiciously. “You’re never so modest.” She threw him a look. What’s going on?

He frowned. Nothing. Go away.

She cocked her head. What did you do now?

He made a face. Thanks for the vote of confidence.

Sitting between Jordan and Kyle, Nick raised an eyebrow, looking ever the FBI agent right then. “What’s with the looks?”

Hearing that, Grey peered up from his menu. “Are they doing the twin thing again? Used to freak Marilyn and me out when they were younger. They’d have entire conversations like that at the dinner table.” He waved his hand dismissively. “You get used to it.”

The conversation moved on—thankfully—and Kyle distracted his family by filling them in on the details about his meeting with the CEO of Twitter. Nick then talked about his promotion to special agent in charge of the FBI’s Chicago division and how that meant he would no longer be doing undercover work. When he smiled at Jordan and squeezed her hand after saying that, Kyle got the impression this had once been an issue for them.

“That’s great to hear, Nick. So does this mean you’re going to make an honest woman out of my daughter anytime soon?” Grey asked, out of the blue.

Jordan’s eyes went wide, appalled. “Dad.”

Kyle watched with amusement as Nick squirmed in his chair. He tipped his drink to the FBI agent. “Welcome to the family.”

Grey turned to him. “Oh, I wouldn’t get too comfortable there if I were you. You’re in the hot seat next.”

“What did I do?” Kyle asked.

“Who’s this brunette bombshell you’ve been cozying up with?” Grey asked.

Damn Scene and Heard. “Don’t believe everything you read in the papers, Dad,” Kyle grumbled. Although that particular bit had been very true.

“Fine. How about what I see in the papers? A few weeks before the brunette bombshell, there was the pretty assistant U.S. attorney. The one whose chest you’re staring at in that photograph.” Grey looked at him pointedly. “You’re a CEO now, Kyle. Maybe it’s time you thought about treating your personal life as seriously as your professional one.”

Kyle took a deep breath, silently counting to ten. It was the same lecture he’d been hearing from his father for years. Normally, this was the part where he grinned and said, Sure, Dad, then left dinner and called whatever girl was the flavor of the week on the way home.

But not tonight.

“First of all,” he began, “I wasn’t staring at the pretty assistant U.S. attorney’s chest. I was looking at her eyes. And in hindsight, that’s probably the moment I should’ve first realized I was totally screwed. As for getting serious, well, here’s a shocker for you: I tried that. Thought I had something really great. But guess what? She doesn’t want to get serious with me. Figured that out just this morning. So if tonight, for once, we could all skip the That Kyle Sure Is a Funny Asshole routine, I would really, really appreciate it.”

Grey’s face fell, turning immediately chagrined. “I’m sorry, Kyle. I didn’t realize.”

Jordan reached across the table, her expression one of genuine sympathy. “What happened? I thought things were going great with Rylann.”

Kyle knew his family meant well, but this was worse than the sarcasm. Expressing emotions and getting in touch with his softer side hadn’t worked out so well for him that morning, and the last thing he wanted to do was relive the experience. So he stood up from the table. “You know, I’m not really in the mood for dessert. You guys go ahead and order without me. I think I’ll step outside for a few minutes—I’ve got some phone calls I need to make.”

KYLE STOOD AGAINST the brick wall on the far end of the restaurant’s rooftop lounge, looking out at the striking nighttime view of high-rise buildings that towered all around him. He scrolled through the voicemail, e-mail, and text messages he’d received during dinner—and got pissed at himself when he realized he’d been hoping one of them would be from Rylann. He hadn’t expected her to call after the way he’d left things, but nevertheless his mind had begun conjuring up all sorts of ideas about what might’ve happened after he’d left her apartment. And none of them were good.

Perhaps he should’ve thought about that before throwing down the gauntlet while the guy she’d once wanted to marry was waiting in her kitchen.

As he was ruminating over the genius of that particular strategy, he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.

“I appreciate it, Jordo,” he said without turning around. “But I’m not in a very talkative mood right now.”

“All right. How about a drink instead?”

Surprised by the voice, Kyle turned around and saw his dad holding two rocks glasses. He offered one to Kyle. “I had them open a bottle of Macallan 21 especially.”

With a slight smile, Kyle took the glass. “Nothing but the best for Grey Rhodes.”

“Nothing but the best for Kyle Rhodes,” Grey corrected him. “The man of the hour.” He took a spot next to Kyle along the wall. “Any particular reason I had to read about the launch of Rhodes Network Consulting in the papers, like everyone else?”

Ah, yes. That. “I meant to call you after the press release went out, but the day just got away from me.” Kyle paused, trying to decide how best to explain. “And before that…this company was something I needed to build on my own. Without any input from the mighty business entrepreneur Grey Rhodes.”