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Kate had three rules.

1. Don't sleep with the enemy (she'd learned the hard way with Tom).

2. Don't drink tequila (it never ended well when she did). 

And 3. No matter what, don't let Anthony Bridgerton win.

Somehow, she'd broken all three in one night. 

Newton was aggressively scratching at the door, his nails scritting against the wood. Already upset about being left in the living room overnight, he was making it known that he'd no longer hold his bladder. If she left him there any longer, he would start growling at the door. Growling that would turn into barking rather quickly. 

But unfortunately, the massive mistake she made last night was still wrapped tightly around her waist, an arm that only tightened each time she moved and refused to allow her to leave the discomfort of lying in her bed. His face was pressed against her messy bedhead. She could feel the soft tickles of his breath against her scalp and neck as he continued to sleep blissfully next to her. She was stuck watching the sunlight peak through a crack in her curtains because she refused to be face to face with him right now. 

How could she be so stupid? Not just for sleeping with him, but bringing him back to her apartment? What a rookie mistake. What was she supposed to do now? Lay here and wait for him to wake up? 

Arrogant prick. Why hadn't he done the right thing and left in the middle of the night while she was asleep, take all of his items with him and wipe any evidence of himself being here from her home, so they could just pretend this had never happened? Instead, the idiot had decided to spend the night, leaving her to have to now deal with this increasingly awkward predicament. Waiting in limbo. 

Damn you, tequila.

Newton was now growling at the door. If she didn't get him outside soon, he was going to pee on her new carpet in an act of defiance. 

This was about to become the most awkward morning of her life. Getting Newton outside would give her the briefest of freedoms, but maybe she could push it and force him out under the pretense that she was taking Newton outside. What else was she supposed to do if she stayed? Make him breakfast? Coffee? And then what? Talk to him like they were both civilized people? As if they hadn't been at each other's throats for the last five years, ever since she started working at Bridgerton, Danbury, and Co after she graduated.

"I know you're awake," Anthony's voice cut through her thoughts.

She closed her eyes.

Fucking tequila.

She was never going to drink again.

Kate took a deep breath, trying not to think about how long Anthony might have been awake. How long he'd been observing her silently panicking next to him. 

At least she could finally get out of bed.

"Morning," she replied, trying to sound as normal as she could while pulling his arm off her waist and pushing herself out from underneath the covers. 

Quickly moving out of bed, she began scanning the floor for her clothes, having no interest in standing naked in front of Anthony for longer than a few seconds. Starting with her underwear. Why had her drunk self thought it a good idea to throw her clothing across the room? Her bra was easy enough to find, still hanging off the lamp shade on her side table, but her underwear was nowhere to be found, and she was forced to rip open her dresser drawer and snatch a pair of panties out, quickly pulling it on one leg at a time. 

Grabbing a simple button-down she had hanging in her closet, Kate turned back towards the bed as she pulled the shirt on and began buttoning it up. Anthony had rolled over on to his back, with one hand underneath his head, clearly showing off his toned chest as he watched her with a smug smile. 

Kate then watched as his dark eyes roamed over her figure, down to her bare legs, and back up to her face. Like she was simply a piece of meat hanging in a butcher shop window. She tried not to glare at him, biting down on the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from snapping at him. 

Leave, she mentally ordered. Just leave. Tell me you have to get going or something so we can move on and pretend this never happened. 

"You want breakfast?" Anthony asked instead, still smiling.

Kate took another deep breath. It was going to be a long morning. 

~~~

Newton was equally as perturbed as she was that Anthony had decided to stay for breakfast. 

Sitting in the narrow space between the kitchen counter and her stove top, he watched Anthony flip pancakes with an expression Kate was confident was the closest her rotund little corgi could get to contempt. 

When Anthony glanced down at him, Newton's lips pulled back to the gums as he growled up at him. Kate was almost impressed. Proud even.

And then Anthony flipped a perfectly cooked pancake over his shoulder, which landed right in front of Newton, who almost fell onto his back in surprise before realizing what he'd been given, A 'special treat.' He glanced up at Anthony and then back at the food in front of him before quickly moving to scarf down the fluffy, flat cake, tail wagging excitedly as Anthony threw another pancake onto the floor for him. And then another.

Traitor.

"Stop bribing my dog," she ordered, without the usual edge in her tone she reserved only for Anthony.

"Teach him manners then," Anthony said, not even glancing back at her. 

She glared at the back of his skull, taking another sip of her coffee, realizing it actually tasted good for once, before mentally cursing as she put it together that Anthony had somehow made her shitty old coffee maker brew a decent cup. 

Which made it all the harder to be pissed off at him as she sat at her kitchen counter watching Anthony continue to flip pancakes, shirtless, and stack the fully cooked ones on a plate next to him with ease. He'd already filled a plate for her, which now sat untouched in front of her on the countertop. 

At least put on pants, not lingered around her apartment in his briefs, but Kate still got the sense he'd willingly chosen not to put a shirt on just to bother her. It wasn’t helping her efforts to try to ignore the warm feeling building in her lower regions as she stared at his broad shoulders and toned back. 

"I can't stay long," he told her over his shoulder. "I have to meet with a client at noon and then I have a family dinner tonight, but I'm free tomorrow evening."

Kate sat up straighter, frowning in confusion at what he'd just said, not entirely sure she'd heard him. "I'm sorry?"

"Dinner. Tomorrow," he repeated, still not looking away from the stove. "I was thinking either Mondrich's or this new Italian place my brother told me about." 

Was he asking her out?

For a second, Kate thought she was going crazy. Was Anthony Bridgerton asking her out? Never in a million years had she ever thought that would happen. For a million reasons. 

Starting with the fact that they hated each other. 

Ever since they had started working together when he'd confused her as a secretary on her first day. Making a rather lewd innuendo towards her as if he thought he had a chance. She would have slapped him, and nearly did, if it hadn't been for her boss, Agatha Danbury, walking into the room and introducing him as being the Bridgerton part of the law firm and her technical higher up. 

From there, their relationship had become a somewhat competitive one. Always working towards one-upping the other.

She would never in a million years have ever imagined they would have a drunken one-night stand together. 

And yet, here she was, having just heard him asking her out.

Not asking her out, really, just stating they would. Which was the norm for him.

"Kate?" Anthony asked, now facing her. "Does tomorrow work?"

She blinked. "Um…no. I already have plans. Sorry."

It wasn't a lie. She had plans to meet with Sophie for brunch, but Anthony didn't know that.

Anthony shrugged. "No matter. Thursday work?"

"Sure," she replied without thinking. What the hell had she just done? Did she just agree to dinner with Anthony fucking Bridgerton?

"Great," Anthony smiled, not smugly, but definitely victorious. He glanced down at his watch. "I have to head out soon, better get dressed."

"Aren't you going to eat?" Kate asked, looking at the large stack of pancakes he'd made.

One of Anthony's sharp brows rose as he smiled at her, intrigued. "Why? You don't want me to leave?" 

Kate frowned, which only made him laugh. Now she was very confused. 

"Would love to, Kate, but as I said, I'm meeting a client. Have to get back to my apartment so I can change into something fresh," he informed her before heading back into her bedroom, most likely to grab his shirt and remaining items. 

Leaving her to sit in the kitchen glaring at the plate of pancake in front of her as she tried to find a motive behind his behavior. Behavior which made no sense. He should be hating this as much as her. 

Newton jumped up, resting his little paws on the legs of her chair, imploring her with his big round eyes to drop another pancake down. She sighed, throwing one down to him, before taking a bite out of another and immediately holding back a moan of pleasure. It was somehow the best pancake she'd ever eaten in her life, fluffy and sweet, and she realized as she took another bite that Anthony had made them from scratch.

She internally cursed. How the hell was he this good at cooking?

Taking another bite because she was sure it could not be possible, Kate covered her mouth, trying not to moan again.

"I'll be off," Anthony announced, and Kate jumped, throwing the remaining part of her pancake out in front of her on impulse as he reentered the room unexpectedly. It flew in front of her and landed on the floor on the other side of the island. 

Newton raced after it, his claws scratching on the floor as he moved, while Kate turned to face Anthony, who was pulling his jacket on as he walked into the room, apparently unaware of what had just happened. 

"Thanks again for last night. I…appreciate it," Anthony told her. 

"Don't mention it. I'm glad I could help," she said before she winced at the poor word choice, given how last night had ended for them. 

Anthony huffed a laugh but said nothing more about it (even though she'd given him quite the opening). Kate still waited patiently, expecting the mocking to happen any time now. 

When she didn't say anything else further, Anthony smirked.

Was he mocking her?

"Enjoy the pancakes. See you Monday, Kate," he told her, this time with an obvious smug smile, and headed out of her apartment. 

Oh, he was so mocking her. 

~~~

"He was not mocking you."

"Yes, he was," Kate repeated, watching as Sophie took another long sip of her mimosa. 

Sophie took a deep breath as she put her glass flute down on the table. "He made you breakfast. How is that mocking you?"

They were sitting in their regular brunch hangout, drawn to the place years ago by its bottomless mimosas and absolutely phenomenal breakfast potatoes. 

"He did so with the intention of one-upping me. Because that's what he does," Kate replied, stabbing her fork into said potatoes. "That's what he's always done."

Sophie raised a brow, unconvinced, as she picked up her drink again. "He made you breakfast. After you two had an apparently lovely evening together."

"You're mocking me now, too, aren't you?" Kate asked her friend. 

"Absolutely," Sophie replied swiftly, taking another sip of her drink. "I think you're being ridiculous."

And here, she'd expected Sophie to at least be sympathetic. 

Kate rolled her eyes. "I'm not being ridiculous."

"So, are you saying it was bad?" her friend asked.

Kate paused, shifting awkwardly in her chair, trying not to think about it. "No," she replied. It had been the complete opposite of that. 

The way Anthony had gone down on her, eating her out as if his life depended on it. She could still feel the strokes of his tongue when she thought about it, the way his hands had gripped her thighs, holding them open to give him greater access. She shivered at the thought, hating that she'd wanted it, how much she enjoyed it.

How she wanted more. 

Sophie's brow was raised again, any higher, and it might disappear into her hairline as she watched her, waiting for an answer. 

"So, what are you upset about?" she asked. 

That was a good question. 

Which Kate didn't want to answer. 

"It should never have happened," Kate told her, as if her reasoning had been evident this whole time. 

"But it did," Sophie reminded her. 

Which was what bothered her the most. That she'd allowed desire and an honest conversation between the two of them swayed her into agreeing to sleep with him. And the sex being the best she'd ever had undoubtedly didn't help. 

If she so much as saw another bottle of tequila-

"You are allowed to regret it, Kate," Sophie told her gently. "But I don't think you do."

Sophie had gotten to know her too well. She could read her like an open book now, and they'd known each other long enough that Sophie wasn't hesitant to hold back her true opinions anymore. Reserved by force, due to the abuse she faced at the hands of her wicked stepmother, Sophie had found remaining quiet in the face of discomfort to be the best choice. To guarantee her own survival. But almost ten years of friendship and the trust that had been built up over the years had changed that. 

And Kate was forever grateful that Sophie wasn't as quiet as she used to be.  

"You know I'm right," Sophie added with a small smile.

Kate groaned. "I should have saved this for Edwina."

"She would have said the same thing," Sophie returned. And she was right. Edwina would have said the same and probably would have been incredibly excited to hear she'd gotten together with Anthony.

"Have I told you I hate it when you're right?" Kate joked. 

Sophie's smile grew. "Not really, no."

"Can we talk about something else?" Kate begged, downing her own mimosa. "How has work been? Seen Benedict lately?"

Sophie eyes widened as she laughed nervously, her cheek flushing immediately and making her look away, chewing her bottom lip lightly. A telltale sign that she had seen the second Bridgerton son, although it was the usual response Sophie gave when Benedict's name was mentioned.

"How'd it go?" Kate asked, smiling now.

"Well…we…chatted, I guess. About work and stuff," Sophie replied with a simple shrug.

Benedict had returned to London from Italy a few months back, and Sophie had been head over heels in love with him since the day they accidentally met at work. Since his return, besides opening his own art gallery, Benedict had been helping out at his family's charity in his spare time (which he apparently had a lot of), meaning the two had seen each other a lot since then. 

(And no, the irony was not lost on both of them that they both found themselves working for different Bridgerton-owned companies after university, Kate with the law firm, the first one the Bridgertons built, and Sophie with the foundation.)

"What stuff?" Kate asked.

"You know…stuff," Sophie replied, shrugging. "His gallery's been going really well lately. He's set to do a showing for a bunch of Granville's new works."

"That's good," she commented. 

Kate had known from the moment Sophie had first told her about Benedict that her friend was in love. The giggly look on her face and excitable tone she’d had as she’d told Kate about her first meeting with Benedict had been enough of an indicator. Kate had never seen Sophie look that happy. It was apparent she was in love. And from the conversations Kate had had with the other Bridgerton siblings about Benedict, she didn't doubt that they were perfect for each other, that his feelings towards Sophie might be the same.

Not to mention, Eloise had let slip that Benedict seemed unable to keep himself away from the Bridgerton Foundations and the events it had been hosting lately. 

Even the Bridgerton matriarch seemed to want them to get together.

"Are you planning to visit?" Kate added, wanting to see how Sophie reacted, see if she'd finally built up the courage.

Sophie shook her head quickly, eyes wide. "Oh no, I don't think I have the time."

Kate tried to hide her disappointment, never happy to see her friend willingly preventing herself from finding happiness, but she knew Sophie needed time to get there. The anxieties (and life experiences) Sophie had always made her deny herself opportunities Kate knew she deserved more than anything.

But, in all honesty, if it went any longer, Kate might wring Benedict's neck for not being smart enough to make the first move.

"How's work been?" Sophie asked, obviously wanting to move the conversation along. "I know you said you had this big case going on."

Kate's stomach dropped. For the briefest moment, she had forgotten all about work and the fact that she would have to see Anthony tomorrow. 

And how uncomfortable it was about to become.

"Great," she told her friend, forcing a smile. 

"Are you ready for Monday?”

Not in the slightest. 

~~~

Work, so far, hadn't been as uncomfortable as she thought it would be.

Anthony was in meetings all morning, meaning she did not need to awkwardly sneak around the office, praying she didn't run into him. She still spent most of the morning hidden away in her office, out of sight. Just to be safe. Her plan for the day was to spend most of her time there. 

There was just one tiny problem in her plan.

Anthony's office was directly across from hers. 

A knock on her open office door snatched her attention away from the documents in front of her, and Kate glanced up to find Anthony standing in the doorway.

"Morning," he said, smiling as he spoke. He must have finished with his meetings.

Kate glanced at the clock she had on her desk. "It's one in the afternoon," she informed him bluntly.

"Afternoon, then," Anthony corrected, unbothered, as he stepped into the room.

She frowned. This was the last thing she wanted right now.

"Can I help you?" she asked, annoyed.

"Can't I say 'hello' to a colleague?" 

Her frown deepened as she picked up on his tone, its teasing nature, and the smirk tilting the side of his mouth upward as he studied her office decor. She watched as Anthony slowly waltzed around her office with the arrogant swagger he always carried himself with. As if he owned the place.

Which was true. He did, unfortunately, own the place. 

"I have work to do," she told him. "Do you need something?"

"Not really," Anthony told her, dropping down onto the muted gray, modern sofa she had in her office. 

She stared at him, watching as he got comfortable lounging in her office. On her furniture. He slid a hand over the couch, feeling the soft fabric before he leaned back, lifting a leg to rest his ankle over his knee and wrapping his arms around the back of the couch. 

"I have work," she repeated with more edge this time.

"I know," Anthony returned. "Don't mind me." 

"So, you're just going to sit there? Watching me?" she questioned. 

"Is that a problem, Sharma?" Anthony's smirk grew into a cocky grin. 

"Yes," she deadpanned.

He huffed. It might have been a laugh, sounded like one, but you could never tell with Anthony. 

Silence soon descended in the office as Kate continued scribbling away her notes and reviewing files and evidence as Anthony continued watching her from the couch across the room. 

"I noticed you have yet to yell at any of the interns today," she remarked, sarcastically.

Anthony scoffed. "It's only one in the afternoon. I still have time."

Kate tried not to groan in annoyance. She'd been trying to insult him, push him to leave her office by bringing up his behavior last week. When he'd yelled at poor Florence in front of the entire office. 

And she had hoped that since the day it happened had been the anniversary of his father's death, it would have stuck the exposed nerve, the open wound that had yet to heal that Anthony carried when it came to his father. Anthony was his most tetchy when it came to his family. It was known by everyone in the office that a bee sting had killed the founding Bridgerton in Bridgerton, Danbury and Co.

And that Anthony had been present when it happened.

Last Friday had also been the ten-year anniversary.

While it was a dick move to bring up his father, Kate knew pushing Anthony to anger was usually the easiest way to get rid of him.

And he'd been in a particularly foul mood that day. He always was though. Kate had learned over the past few years of working with him to expect it. He would come to work, even though his family – his mother – would apparently beg him not to, walking around the office with a permanent scowl, agitated and snappish, on edge with everyone. The most minor thing could set him off. 

And this year, Kate had finally told him off for his behavior after he'd yelled at the poor, new intern, Florence, who had only made the simple mistake of bringing him the wrong client file on the anniversary of the worst day of his life. 

"If you can't behave yourself today–" she'd hissed as she dragged him out of the central area and down the hall towards their offices. She harshly pulled him into hers and slammed the door behind her. "–then you shouldn't be here."

"You have no right to tell me-" he'd started, ripping his arm out of her grip.

"Just because your father died, Anthony, doesn't give you a right to be a little shit to people who are just trying to do their jobs," she'd snapped, but he'd only glared down at her with a fury she'd rarely ever seen from him. He wasn't going to calm down as quickly as she hoped, and she knew she needed to be calm herself, or it would turn into a much worse argument between them. 

So, she took a deep breath, trying to quiet her raging mind, reminding herself that she was doing this to help him not start another fight before she looked back up at him. Directly in the eye. 

"I lost my father too, Anthony," she'd told him, softer this time but still keeping the rough, serious edge in her voice. "And when that anniversary comes around, unlike you, I stay home if I'm not feeling like myself. I go see Mary or my sister. I always have dinner with them. Sophie takes the morning off every year just to have breakfast with me, and she won't even do that for her own parents. Every year, I spend time with the people in my life who I care about–who are still alive when that day inevitably comes around. And if you can't take care of yourself Anthony, on your own terms, then I suggest you, please, get a fucking therapist."

She hadn't meant to get snappish again with him, but it had slipped out towards the end. The exasperation getting to her. It wasn't even meant to be cruel or mean either. Kate was, in all honestly, just concerned, and had been for years now, seeing how he was barely holding it together when it came to his father. Refusing to discuss it in general. He needed to talk to someone about it and while Kate hadn’t been volunteering to being that person, she’d just been trying to get Anthony to speak to someone—anyone about it.

She'd expected him to yell at her, to tell her she had no right, that she'd stepped out of line, but Anthony just stood there, watching her silently. He didn't look that angry anymore, even if his hands were still bawled up into tight fists, shaking at his side, but he couldn't look her in the eye either. 

Then, without saying a word, he stepped around her and stormed into his office, slamming the door behind him. For a moment, Kate thought she'd finally done it. Pushed him over the edge. Honestly, she'd expected Agatha to arrive at her door in the next couple minutes to tell her she was fired, that there was nothing she could do. 

But nothing happened. No one showed up at her office to tell her to pack up and leave, and Kate sat at her desk, her door wide open, waiting for someone too. The only thing that happened was that, about an hour later, Anthony stepped out of his office. He told his secretary, who'd returned to her desk after grabbing a coffee, that he was going to be out for the next hour, to have lunch with his mother. He didn't even spare a look into Kate’s office as he pulled his coat on and swiftly headed down the hallway and out of the building.

Kate had taken that as a good sign.

And when he didn't come back for the rest of the afternoon, she took that as an even better sign. She'd expected to see him again Monday morning.

Only instead, she saw him again that night. 

And she knew how that had ended.

"My mother says 'hello,' by the way," he told her instead. 

"And how is your mother?" she asked.

"Good. Happy that I took her out to lunch Friday," Anthony replied.

That might have even been a 'thank you' if she listened hard enough.

"That's nice," she replied, politely, still not looking up from her work.

"Are you seriously taking on Berbrooke as a client?" Anthony asked, groaning in annoyance over the fact she was taking on one of the firm's more demanding clients.

Kate glanced up at him, surprised at the change in subject and also annoyed he was rehashing this conversation with her. Again.

"Given the last time you saw Berbrooke you punched him in the face, Agatha thought it was best I handle him from this point on," she replied, repeating what she’d said the last time Anthony had brought up Nigel Berbrooke.

"He's a creep," Anthony remarked.

"I'm aware," she knew the only reason Anthony, usually level-headed and professional, had only gotten violent with Berbrooke in the conference room two months ago was over a remark he made about Daphne.

It had apparently been a long time coming, but Agatha had still been forced to promise Berbrooke pro bono work so he would not charge Anthony with assault. 

"If he says anything untoward, just tell me," Anthony told her. 

"So, you can do what? Open us up to another liable suit?" she questioned, annoyed now.

"That's not what I meant," he replied.

"Then what did you mean?" she returned.

Anthony gave an exasperated sigh, letting his head fall back on the couch as he groaned. "Must you make everything an argument?" 

“Must you always start them?” Kate mockingly returned.

“Oh, relax Kathani. I’m just trying to have your back,” Anthony returned snappishly.

That was it. Kate pushed her chair back and stood up, swiftly heading towards the door. If he wasn’t going to willingly leave then she’d make it clear he was no longer welcomed in her office. She opened the office door, gripping the doorknob as tightly as she could as she glared over at Anthony, who was still sitting undisturbed on the couch.

She did a quick wave towards the door, motioning for him to leave. "Get out," she ordered simply. 

But all that did was make an excited look appeared on Anthony's face, his brows popping up in intrigue, as he stared at her. Slowly, he rose up from the couch and came towards her. She assumed he would just say something snide and leave, as was the norm, but he stopped. Stopped when he was only a foot away from her.

Not breaking eye contact with her, Anthony just smiled at her as he leaned forward.

"Or what?" he challenged. 

"Get. Out," she repeated, almost a growl this time.

The glint in his eyes, the exhilarating look as he watched her, his pupils dilating, made her core tighten. 

Which only pissed her off more.

Like a predator sizing up its prey, Anthony slowly took another step towards her. Still watching her. Kate spared a quick glance and almost sighed with relief as she saw his secretary's desk was empty. Thank God, they didn't have an audience. 

"And what will you do if I don't?" he teased, snatching her attention back to him. 

"Someone will see us," she told him harshly, hoping that would be enough.

But Anthony just reached out and yanked the door out of her grip, not roughly but quick enough that it surprised her into releasing her hold on the doorknob, allowing Anthony to slowly close it as he continued advancing on her, forcing her to step back until she was pressed against the wood. 

"That better?" he asked. 

He was far too close for comfort right now. 

"Anthony…" she warned.

Anthony smirked. "Kathani." 

"You are infuriating," she told him. 

"I've been told," he replied quickly. 

She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves—her building rage. Anthony was now incredibly close, inches away and standing completely in her personal space. Somehow he was even towering over her. She took another deep breath even though her heart was pounding in her chest, not allowing it to get the best of her.

One of his hands came to rest on her hip, almost making her flinch. His thumb began rubbing in a circular motion over the fabric of her dress. It felt nice.

And then his other hand came to rest on her hip as well.

"What are you doing?" she asked as Anthony hovered very close to her face now.

"Trying something out," he replied.

"Trying what-" she started, annoyed, but Anthony's lips were on hers suddenly.

Shock was the initial reaction. Shock at the gall, the absolute nerve that Anthony had to do this to her in her office. Then annoyance as she pushed against him, not with her hands oddly enough but with her lips because, frankly, Kate wasn't ready for him to stop. She just wanted to control it. But all that did was make Anthony drag her body against his, pulling her against him, making Kate, in turn, grasp at his suit as they moved away from the door, Anthony spinning her around as they stumbled away. 

She bit down on his lower lip, getting back at him for kissing her so suddenly, and felt Anthony smiling against her mouth as he deepened the kiss, his hands sliding over to her lower back. It was lovely really, her whole body felt alight. A moan slipped out from her.  

She tried to push against him again, to regain control, but Anthony pulled away from her ending the kiss as quickly as it had begun.

"See you Thursday," was all he told her with a smile and a wink before he exited her office without another word. Leaving her standing there, flustered, breathless, and alone. 

He was certainly not going to see her Thursday.

Not after this. 

~~~

"You need to go."

"Edwina-" Kate started. 

She was cursing herself for picking up the phone, having known full well Sophie had already given Edwina the heads up on her date with Anthony. And she had. The moment Kate had answered the call from her sister, Edwina had been telling her to get dressed and go out with Anthony. Demanding she go.

"Kate! You need to go," her sister snapped back before she could say anything else. 

Well, there went the support from her sister. Kate had hoped for some support from Edwina of all people. Especially after what had happened between the pair. Another reason for Kate's dislike towards Anthony. 

She'd thought her sister would at least be in her corner, but she'd apparently been wrong. 

"He's an ass," she told her.

So much so, he'd spent the last few days looking like the cat that ate the canary. Entirely and utterly pleased with himself for being able to get her to go out with him. Constantly reminding her of it too. 

And that wasn't mentioned the stunt he'd pulled by kissing her.

"Oh my God, Kate," Edwina said on the other end of the line. Too busy in Prague for a shoot to be in person to tell Kate off. "Go. Out. With. Him. Are you stupid?"

"Edwina-" she started again. 

"No! No, Kate, you are not doing this. Not again," Edwina told her.

"Doing what again?" she replied, confused. 

"God, you are just like Sophie with Ben," Edwina muttered. Kate heard her sister take a deep breath. "Didi, I love you, but we both know you will regret this."

"No, I won't, bon," she returned with an annoyed sigh.

"Why are you so certain you're right?" 

"We don't work, bon. We could never work."

"That's a lie and you know it."

"I thought you hated Anthony," Kate quickly retorted, trying to change the subject. It was a dick move, bringing up the sore subject that was Edwina's failed romancing of Anthony, but Kate had been in a shitty mood for the past few days.

"I did. For a time," Edwina replied swiftly. "And then I realized I was a lesbian and might have been interested in him for the wrong reasons. Stop trying to change the subject, didi!"

Kate sighed. "I'm not trying to change the subject."

"Why is it such an issue for you to go out with him? What are you so worried about?" Edwina questioned her. 

What are you upset about?

Like her conversation with Sophie all over again. Both her sister and her friend had seen right through the mask she'd made herself when it came to Anthony. The wall of disinterest she’d created as to district herself to the bubbling feelings of attraction and desire she’d felt towards Anthony the moment they had first met.

What she worried about was it falling apart, the relationship between herself and Anthony disintegrating completely. Like it had with Tom. She'd thought the competitive nature between the two of them made them work well together, but then she'd learn that Tom had only been using her to better his own career and Kate decided then and their to never sleep with the enemy.

And Anthony was her enemy.

Sort of.

While she always told everyone she hated Anthony and that they barely got along with each other, that was a lie.

Maybe in the beginning they had hated each other, constantly in competition with one another, over the years Kate had begrudgingly come to see some commendable traits in Anthony. His stubbornness had its benefits and while they may disagree on a lot, Anthony had always respected her opinion.

And she had to thank him for being her competition. He was good at what he did, and it had pushed Kate to do better, become better at her job. They didn’t even argue as much as they used to and while they did still bicker (that everyone told her was like a married couple), she and Anthony had come to a silent agreement that when they worked well together.

And that was what she feared that it would work out between them. That they were a perfect match for one another. She knew that, after the night they'd spent together. Probably even before that if she was frank with herself. There was no one who made her feel that way she did when she was around Anthony.

"You and Anthony are quite perfect for one another," Edwina commented as if reading her mind. "More so then you than you were with Tom."

Kate groaned. She had to end this conversation. Before Edwina convinced her to go.

"I have to go," she quickly told her.

"No! Kate don't hang up on me. You know I'm-" Edwina started but couldn't finish as Kate hung up the phone. 

Tossing her phone onto the couch next to her, Kate sighed. Again. This was a nightmare. One of her own creation.

She wasn't going to go. She wasn't. All she had to do was wait it out. Besides, if she left now, she'd be twenty minutes late anyway. Kate knew Anthony would be arriving at the restaurant soon and all she had to do was sit in her apartment with Newton for the next few hours and this stupid request of taking her out to dinner would never happen again. She and Anthony were better off as colleagues and colleagues only.

And that was what she did. For the next hour and a half, Kate did everything possible to keep herself focused on anything but the date she was supposed to be on with Anthony. She vacuumed her apartment, reorganized her fridge, and draws, and even cleaned her bathroom. But she’d speed through all those tasks, finding herself with far too much time she still needed to waste. She tried to flip through the tv channels and Netflix to find a show to distract herself but found nothing that could hold her focus longer than five seconds. 

She threw the remote aside, slowly growing increasingly annoyed with herself and her brain, given it couldn't stop reminding her that she had a date with Anthony. 

He was probably sitting in the restaurant at that very moment. Or maybe he had already left, furious with her for standing him up.

"I'm such an asshole," she finally said aloud to no one in particular. She glanced at Newton lying next to her. "Aren't I?"

Newton appeared to agree with her statement, staring up at her with a look of doggy disappointment on his face.

"Don't look at me like that," she ordered, but Newton continued watching her. 

She still ended up in a staring contest with her dog, trying to force herself into staying seated on the couch, to pick up the remote and turn the TV on again, giving it another chance to distract her from what she had done. All she had to do was wait a few more hours, and it would all be over. The night would be through, and with it, any chance she had with Anthony. 

But all Newton had to do was cock his head to the side as he watched her. As if saying–

You are really going to waste this?

And she sighed, knowing fully what she was about to do. 

Oh, this was about to be so shaming. 

~~~

He was glowering at her from all the way across the room. 

As she stood awkwardly at the front of the restaurant – exposed – waiting for the hostess, she had a clear view across the room to where Anthony was sitting at a table, watching her like a hawk. Somehow he seemed to have been placed in the one area of the modern, dimly lit restaurant that got all of the light, as if a spotlight had been put directly on him. Even with the distance, she could see his jaw was clenched and that he was breathing deeply. His dark eyes burned holes into her.

He looked angrier than she'd ever seen him.

More than that, he looked–

Hurt. 

Not that he didn't have a reason to be. 

She didn't need the hostess to lead her over, he was sitting right there. Right in the open. She just wanted to delay the inevitable and give herself more time to make up an excuse as to why she was two and a half hours late to their date. And the longer she stood here, the more time she had, even if her brain was stuttering to think of a convincing excuse. There were barely any other guests for her to focus on instead. She was honestly surprised he was still here.

"This way, please," the short, brunette hostess told her cheerily, and Kate politely smiled back as she began to slowly follow her through the restaurant.

It was the longest walk of her life. The seconds it took to cross the room felt like hours. The closer she got to him, the closer she got to a confrontation. She knew this conversation wouldn't go well. 

The hostess motioned towards the available chair at the table before turning towards Anthony. "Would you like another drink, sir?" she asked, and Anthony shook his head. She then told them the waiter would be back in a minute, before departing back to the front of the restaurant. 

Kate slowly took her coat off, trying to act as naturally as she could as she began hanging it on the back of her chair. 

"I'm sorry. I had a-"

"Don't," Anthony shot coldly at her, voice incredibly calm. His hand had a white-knuckled grip on the glass of whiskey sitting in front of him on the table as if he was close to crushing the glass in his hand. "Don't do that." 

She sighed, slowly sinking into her chair. "I'm sorry."

"I said 'don't,'" Anthony repeated. 

His cheeks were flushed. Everything else about him looked the same, though, with the same prim and proper air he always had to him. His suit was without a single crease, his tie perfectly done, but his hair was disheveled as if he'd been running his fingers through it a few times. And his cheeks were red, not from rage or embarrassment (even though it was still a potential). Kate had seen this before. When he had enough drinks in him. 

Like he had that night. 

"How many drinks have you had?" Kate asked gently.

"Five," Anthony replied curtly before lifting his glass up and downing the remaining whiskey in one go. He then placed it back down on the table, making a purposeful effort not to slam it. "And that makes six." 

She cringed and looked away, unable to meet his eyes. That certainly didn’t make her feel better.

"You didn't have to come," he told her after a few moments of silence.

"Where you just going to sit here until they closed?" she asked, inquiring as gently as she could. Knowing the answer before she had even asked. It was why she'd inevitably made herself come out here. 

"Probably. I've been stood up before, but I had a theory you didn't have the backbone to go through with it. Wanted to see if I was right," he replied tightly. His jaw clenched briefly again before he took a deep breath and relaxed. "And I was." 

She deserved that. 

She needed to apologize, but when she opened her mouth, to—

"If you try to apologize again, Kate, I swear-" Anthony warned. 

"Sorry," she immediately cringed as Anthony let out an exasperated sigh. "Sorry-fuck! I just want to-"

"To what, Kate? Apologize for leading me along? Making me feel like that night actually meant something to you?" he snapped at her. "If you weren't interested, all you needed to do was say it."

"That's not-" she started impulsively before stopping herself. 

If she opened that door, and finished the sentence she was about to stay, there wouldn't be a turning back. It was just too easy to admit to him — to herself — that what had happened did mean something to her. 

But what if it didn't work out? What if they were just too volatile to work?

Anthony had gotten tired of her silence, shaking his head in disbelief at her. "You really are a piece of work, you know that? Must think yourself such a prize. Well, let me tell you, Sharma, that if you think I would willingly have chosen you-"

"I would have chosen you."

"Because let me tell you that I would in a-" Anthony stopped, silenced mid-speech. His eyes snapped towards her, but Kate wasn't looking in his direction. 

She could've stopped herself from saying it, even though it had been a split-second decision, but she hadn't. She supposed she should at least be happy she made the choice—finally made the choice. To say something to him.

"Seriously?" Anthony asked, staring at her in disbelief. 

"Yes…you ass," she added the last part halfheartedly. 

Anthony continued watching her, frowning at her now.

“Seriously?” he repeated.

“Anthony-“ she started. She stopped herself, taking a deep breath. “Yes, alright? Yes, I would pick you. You’re arrogant and self-righteous and a pain in my bloody arse half the time, but…” she took another deep breath. “You excite me. And you push me to be a better attorney. And these past few months of working together have been some of the best months of my life. So, yes, Anthony, if I had to choose, chose someone to spend my life with, I would choose you. Alright?”

Anthony blinked at her, stunned, stunned enough to silence as he sat their quietly for a few moment, saying nothing.

"I think…I think I'm too drunk to be having this conversation right now," Anthony finally admitted. 

Kate couldn't help it. She laughed. A loud snort burst out of her suddenly as she descended into laughter. Neither one of them was in a position to be having this conversation right now. This late in the evening and with one party have potentially drunk an entire bottle of whiskey, not to mention the glass of wine Kate had had earlier in the night.

When she looked back at Anthony, she found he was smiling, apparently finding the entire matter as funny as she did. 

"I really am sorry," she said, chewing her lower lip as she again did the opposite Anthony had asked. 

"I know," Anthony returned softly. 

"How did you get here?" 

"I drove."

"Okay, I'm driving you home then. Because you are in no shape to drive."

"Let me just pay, and we can go," Anthony told her, moving to pull his wallet out.

"No," she interjected quickly. "I'll pay."

Anthony looked at her like she'd grown two heads, still frozen in his position to take his wallet out. 

"You don't want to do that."

"Anthony, it's fine."

"I mean it. You really don't-"

"How much can six glasses of whiskey cost?"

"It was expensive whiskey, Kate."

She waved a hand. "It's fine. I'll pay for your stupid, expensive whiskey." 

"And a salad."

She stopped and stared at him. Then frowned. 

Anthony just shrugged.

"I got hungry waiting." 

~~~

"Fifty pounds? For a salad!?" 

"It was a decent salad," Anthony slurred. He was leaned against her, using her body to keep himself from falling over. Suffice to say, the alcohol had caught up with him on the ride home. 

Kate had forced him into the passenger seat of his Bugatti and then spent the next twenty minutes gripping the steering wheel as tightly as she could, breathing deeply with her foot barely touching the gas as she prayed she wouldn't scratch his car on the ride back to her apartment. Her heart was practically in her throat by the time they pulled up, after which she spent a total of ten minutes helping pull Anthony out of the car and up the steps to get inside. 

She should have taken him back to his apartment. The one that had an elevator. Unlike hers.

"No wonder you're intoxicated. What are you? A rabbit? No one eats salad when they are having that much to drink," Kate grunted. She was currently using all her strength to hold Anthony up. "Fifty pounds. Fifty pounds! For lettuce and some vegetables." 

She wasn't even going to bring up how much the whiskey had cost her. God, the amount of money she'd just paid. For six glasses of whiskey and a fucking salad.

"You should have let me pay," Anthony sang as he staggered up the stairs, his head falling back.

"And let you laud that over me as well? Absolutely not," she snapped back, and Anthony giggled. Giggled! Like a child. 

She wasn't sure she'd ever heard him giggle. 

Finally, after what felt like a truly herculean effort, Kate made it to her apartment door with Anthony. She stumbled a little trying to unlock the door, almost dropping her keys in her haste to open it, but the door finally unlocked and was swung open, with Newton rushing off the couch to greet them. 

"Hi, Newton!" Anthony exclaimed happily, trying to reach down to pet the corgi.

Kate pulled him back up, knowing he would have collapsed to the floor and taken her with him if she hadn't, before dragging him across the room and towards the couch. Shutting the door behind her, she unceremoniously dumped him there on the couch and headed into the kitchen to get him some water. 

Taking the first glass she could grab out of the cabinet; Kate quickly filled it with water from the tap and made her way back into the living space. 

Anthony had slid off the couch in her absence, now laying on the ground instead, his head the only part of his body against the sofa, with Newton lying on his chest. His fingers scratched and rubbed behind the corgi's big ears, which Kate could see Newton was loving, his little head tilted to the side slightly as he panted in Anthony's face.  

"What did I tell you about bribing my dog?" she asked teasingly.

"Not my fault he likes me now," Anthony slurred back. 

Sitting on the couch next to him, Kate lowered her hand to pass him the glass of water, which he willingly accepted. She watched him drink the entire glass before taking it back from him and placing it down on the table in front of them. 

Anthony sighed. Newton was now lying on his chest, looking about to fall asleep, and Kate doubted the weight of her corgi on Anthony's chest was comfortable. But Anthony looked just as ready as Newton to close his eyes and slip off into unconsciousness. 

"You need to sleep. After you've had like five more glasses of water, but you do need to sleep," she told him gently. 

Anthony hummed in agreement. Oddly enough, he looked pretty peaceful, slumped on the floor against her couch. 

She couldn't help herself, really, but Kate reached out and carded her hand through his hair. Her nails scratched lightly over his scalp as they pushed through the short, smooth locks. And much to her surprise, Anthony leaned his head towards her, eyes closed, as he let out a soft moan. It tempted her to do it again, tickling his scalp lightly as her fingers pushed through the strands. 

"How many glasses of water did you say?" he asked again.

"At least five," she replied. "And you're sleeping on my couch this time."

"That's fine," he told her with a sigh. 

Kate couldn't help herself. She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the forehead. 

"Let me get you that water," she told him, pulling away to stand. 

But Anthony grabbed her hand as she moved away, tightly clinging to her wrist and pulling her back. Kate stopped, slowly lowering herself back onto the couch as she looked over toward him. 

"You're not going to… you're not going to pull away again. Are you?" Anthony asked, not looking at her. Hesitant to look at her.

"No. I won't," she assured him, and after a few seconds, Anthony let go. 

She wouldn't. Wouldn't allow herself from stopping this.

There was no turning back now. 

Thank God, she’d already broken all of her rules.