“Grimaldi said she sent you home,” he says as he walks past me, peeling off his sunglasses and throwing them on the counter.
"Yeah, I think she was worried I might lose my shit on a patient, or something. Even though she voted for the restructuring, she must realize this is less about politics for me. I guess she does have a heart."
“She told me to give you space, but you know I don't follow directions well. I can't stay long, but I knew you could probably use a hug.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” he says, walking straight to me and wrapping me in an embrace.
"I promise I'm okay. But thanks for stopping by and checking on me."
He pulls out a stool at the counter and sits. “Coffee or wine?”
"Both. I need to double fist today." He eyes my empty wine glass.
I lean against the island with one hand, bracing myself while I take a giant gulp of the coffee. It's a surprisingly good mix of flavors with the wine still on my tongue.
"Have you recovered at all? You're going to be okay."
I glance at him. “I thought I had, or at least I was getting there. And then my dad called. He knows about Cole and me.”
Kip’s head jerks back. “He knows you and Cole...?”
His brows lift, and he does that slow side-to-side head tilt, first one way, then the other—silent but very much spelling outthatkind of “you and Cole.”
“He asked if I was seeing him. I didn’t even have time to deny it before he told me Cole already confirmed it.”
Kip whistles. “Damn. I didn't peg Cole as a kiss-and-tell kind of guy. To your dad, no less.”
“Yeah, I know. So now my dad thinks I'm a slut, banging the board member to sway his vote. That's not an entirely wrong assessment, but still, who wants their fatherto know who they're fucking, no matter the reason or circumstance? God, I want to die.”
He takes a long sip of his drink. “Speaking of kissing and telling, I ran into Cole on the way out of the boardroom today after you left.”
I’m still. "Did you talk to him?"
“Yeah. We couldn't avoid each other. He was coming back after following you out, and I realized they were about to talk business, so I needed to go. I asked him what his little charade in there was about.”
I don’t say anything at first. I know Kip is trying to be a supportive friend.
“You know it wouldn’t have changed the outcome even if he’d voted no.”
Kip sets his cup down. “Yeah, but doesn’t that make the speech feel a little hollow after he voted to restructure?”
“As much as I hate him right now, I don’t think it was. He told me the other night he didn’t think he could stop it, and how he thought he would vote. But at least he did try.”
Kip raises an eyebrow.
“I think he meant it. About the wing, about trying to find a way to keep it. But once he saw no one was budging, he voted the way he had planned before I got in his ear.”
Kip watches me, thoughtful. “You’re giving him a lot of credit.”
“He doesn’t owe me anything. But I still put a lot of pressure on him to fix it, to make it better. I realize now that wasn’t fair.”
Kip leans back. “You’re more mature than I am.”
“Not really.” I play with the condensation on the cup, drawing lines in the water droplets, watching them disappear.
"This is what I appreciate about you. You're able to see all sides."