“It’s really embarrassing for you,” she teased lightly, even as she marveled that she’d known Kennedy for years and they’d never developed the easy rapport she’d established with his brother in five seconds.
Even if he and Kennedy hadn’t shared a last name, she’d have known who he was immediately. The family resemblance was strong among all four Dawson brothers, though this was the first time she’d met Jack.
“I thought you were in London.” She scrolled through her memory, remembering that he was in international business of some sort.
“Paris, most recently.”
“Ah. You’re back for the party?” she asked after a quick glance over her shoulder to make sure Kennedy’s door was still closed.
“Yeah, although I’m also back in New York for good. Well, at least for the foreseeable future.”
“Oh! I hadn’t heard. Your parents must be thrilled.”
“Actually . . .” He put his hands in his pockets and leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You’re among the first to know. It just became final yesterday. I was hoping to tell Big Brother Extraordinaire in person. He around?”
Kate smiled. “Does he know you call him that?”
Jack lifted one eyebrow. “You’ve met Kennedy, right? He insists upon it.”
“Let me double-check his calendar,” she said, since Kennedy frequently added meetings without telling her, although unlike Matt, he managed to do so correctly. “Are your other brothers coming to the party as well?”
“Pretty sure. Fitz lives in the city now, and John’s always back and forth between here and Boston.”
Kate smiled the way she usually did upon hearing the brothers’ names all at once.
Kennedy, Jack, John, and Fitzgerald. There was little doubt in Kate’s mind that if Diane and Roger Dawson had had a daughter, she’d have been a Jackie.
“He doesn’t have anything on the calendar,” Kate said, looking back at Jack, “but he might be on the phone.”
“But there’s no one in there with him?”
“No. Though he hates—”
“Interruptions. I know. I had the room next door to him in our teens.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows, and she laughed again. “Point me to his office,” Jack said, gesturing at the multitude of closed doors behind her. “I promise to tell him you put up a hell of a fight to keep me out, but I just strong-armed past all . . . fourteen pounds of you.”
“Very rude to comment on a lady’s weight,” she said, unable to keep a straight face as she said it.
“True. Please don’t tell my mother when you see her at the party. You will be there, right?”
“Yeah, though more as a party planner than a guest,” she said, then hid a wince, hoping Jack wouldn’t notice the slight snip in her voice.
No luck there. His eyebrows lifted, and he rested a hip on her desk. “Whaaaat? You mean Claudia wasn’t able to plan a party for a hundred people while also juggling four charities? Well, color me shocked.”
“So you’ve met her,” Kate said with a knowing smile.
“No.” He stood again. “Haven’t had the pleasure. But we spoke on the phone a couple times, and it was . . . illuminating.”
“She’s very nice,” Kate said, because it was true. Claudia was nice, which was more than she could say about some of Kennedy’s past girlfriends. They all had the type of pedigree he seemed to find irresistible—old-money bloodlines, family ties to the mayor and governor—but Claudia was neither cool nor snobby.
Jack tsked. “Now, Kate. Just when I was starting to like you.”
“Jack!”
Kate and Jack both turned to see a grinning Matt come toward them. “What the hell, man? I didn’t know you were in town.”
The two men man-hugged, and Jack caught Matt up on his new status as a New York resident.
“That’s great. Kennedy know?”
“Does Kennedy know what?”
“And there he is,” Jack said, turning to Kennedy, who’d emerged from his office. “I was just about to start banging down doors.”
“Is that your usual way of doing business?” Despite the brotherly jab, Kennedy was smiling as he hugged Jack. “What are you doing here?” Kennedy asked, pulling back.
“Mostly chatting up your girl, Kate Winslet, here,” Jack said, gesturing back at her.
Kennedy’s smile slipped as he looked at Kate, his dimples disappearing. Because yes, by some weird twist of fate, an irritable grump of a man had been blessed with deep, matching dimples in each cheek when he smiled. Which was seldom, which meant said dimples rarely saw the light of day.
Kate gave Kennedy a finger-waggle wave to irritate him, and his jaw tensed. Success.
“Actually, I’m sort of . . . moving here,” Jack said.
“Here?” Kennedy’s gaze swung back to his brother.
“Well, not this neighborhood. I’m thinking something in the Village.”
“I live in the Village!” Kate said.
“Yeah?” Jack turned back to her. “Which part?”
“Sort of the border between Greenwich and West; it depends who you ask.”
“I’m asking you, and be very specific,” Jack said. “The closer our places, the more times we can have Titanic movie parties.”
“Still with the Titanic thing? Didn’t that quit working in high school?” Kennedy said.
“I don’t know. Kate, did it stop working in high school?”
“Seeing as I’m feeling quite fluttery, obviously not.”
Jack turned to Kennedy and shrugged as though to say, See?
Kennedy scowled. Not at Jack but at her.
Kate scowled back as her phone started ringing. She picked it up and proceeded to listen as Ian’s sweet, longtime, and very chatty client immediately began giving Kate a traffic report on the FDR.
Kennedy nodded for Jack to follow him toward his office, and Matt followed as well.
Jack turned back to Kate at the last moment and made an awkward charades gesture, as though clinging to something while his teeth chattered.
Kate covered the mouthpiece with her hand and mouthed, I’ll never let go, Jack.
Kennedy looked between the two of them and then shoved his brother into his office.
And even as she was barraged by yet another unending string of phone calls, Kate found she couldn’t stop smiling.
4
Thursday, March 28
“So,” Jack said, placing the pad of his finger on Kennedy’s globe and giving it an idle spin.
Kennedy made a sound of irritation. “It’s not a basketball, man.”
“Oh, spoiler alert,” Matt said, snapping his fingers as though just remembering something to tell Jack. “Kennedy doesn’t like when people touch his stuff.”
“He never did,” Jack said, dropping into a chair and putting his hands behind his head. “Which one of you wants to tell me what the deal is with Kate?”
Kennedy tensed slightly, because he knew his brother. He knew that tone. “What about her?”
Jack shrugged. “She’s cute. Like a little tiger cub.”
“Don’t be an ass,” Kennedy said.