“Oh, come on, Kennedy. You’re not blind and deaf. The way he can’t do enough for you, that loud fake laugh when you make a frankly not very funny wisecrack about something. The way he checks out your ass every chance he can get. And especially the way he looks at me.”
“How does he look at you?”
“Daggers. As if he’d like to stab me in the throat with the butter knife, then throw my body over the sea rail. Because he wants to be the one sitting next to you. Why don’t you ring for him? I bet he’d be up for a shag.”
“Not my type.”
“So? Neither am I, as most of your friends have told me repeatedly. Despite me reaching down into the deepest, darkest teachings from the one term of acting classes I took in high school. Honestly, it’s beginning to get on my tits, the way they keep casually dropping the fact into every conversation.”
When Kieran looked over, Kennedy’s shoulders were shaking with laughter.
“Sorry about that. But they know I have a type.”
“You don’t say. So pardon me for not being an emaciated, dumb blond elf and actually having an informed opinion about things.”
Kennedy chuckled softly.
“They’re right, though,” said Kennedy, gently shaking his head. “God, I really can be shallow at times.”
“No argument from me.”
“Fuck off.”
“You want a drink?” asked Kieran. “I’ll put it on the room.”
“Cabin. Yeah, go on. If I’m not going to get laid, I might as well get drunk. Get me a Long Island Iced Tea.”
“Done.”
Kieran returned and sat down next to Kennedy before handing over his drink. When Kennedy saw the two rainbow-colored umbrellas sticking out of his tall glass, he huffed loudly and rolled his eyes, but a corner of his mouth lifted.
“D’you want to talk about it? You and Patrick?”
As soon as the words left Kieran’s mouth he regretted them, for instantly dampening Kennedy’s improved mood. He glared sidelong at Kieran before shaking his head and exhaling a long sigh. Kieran thought that meant he didn’t, but after a few moments Kennedy started talking softly.
“I honestly didn’t know he was going to be here. Pete says they booked at the last minute. If I’d known, I probably wouldn’t have agreed to come.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not worth the aggravation. And if you’d heard Richmond’s delightful sermon, you’d know I’m the supervillain in all of this. Used up nine good years of his life. And then I went and ruined everything.”
“You cheated on him?”
“Of course not. Unless you call prioritizing work over social life cheating.”
“He broke up with you because you worked too hard?”
“In his defence, I did fuck up a lot. Often at the last minute. Dinner dates, birthday parties, Christmases, a number of holidays. But even though it was a nuisance, I assumed he was okay with that, thought he knew I had to work hard to make a success of the business. Which meant we could also afford the luxury house, nice cars, designer clothes and the whole comfortable lifestyle. And the bloody cruises, for Christ’s sake.”
“I see.”
“Hebroke up withme, you know? Not the other way round.”
“You still have feelings for him?”
Kennedy thought about that for a long moment before responding.
“Yes, but not in the way you think. More like disappointment, really. And sadness, I suppose. He’s still bitter at me, otherwise he wouldn’t be telling every new partner those unpleasant things. Don’t even know what he has to gain. You should have heard what Richmond said about me in their cabin. In front of everyone. Accused me of cheating on him, even when we were together, which is a barefaced lie. And he as good as called you my paid whore.”
