“Tell me about it.”
“What?”
“Your home life. Explain it to me.”
Nat put her glass down and Kate saw that it was still more than half full.
“I was an only child,” she said. “My parents were, are, rich. My father worked all the time. My mother... I guess I have to be honest right?”
Kate looked into those cat eyes and nodded.
“Well, my mom drank, played Bridge. Had affairs. Went shopping. Traveled. I used to wonder why they had me at all. I never saw either one of them. I had nannies and au pairs. Sure, there were things, presents, gifts. But they were always brought by a secretary, and assistant, the housekeeper. They were never personal, you know? I’m sounding pathetic, aren’t I?”
“A little,” Kate said, but she said it gently.
“I was lonely. And that little group of girls, me, Pamela Strick, Marcey Linton, Jen Greyson, they were my family. I still remember their names, their birthdays, hell, I can recite their phone numbers. We met in fifth grade. They sucked me into their group. I was so happy to have someone, anyone, that I didn’t realize until far too late that we didn’t have a healthy relationship. To be honest, I didn’t know what a healthy relationship was. They were all I had.”
“And they forced you into bullying me?”
She might as well ask the question, might as well turn the mirror on Nat for a change.
“No,” said Nat. “No. It wasn’t like that at all. It was more... insidious perhaps. I wanted them to like me. They were catty about others, bitchy behind their backs, so I did the same. Then one day I said something to someone, and... and it all sort of grew out of control. Suddenly I was this bully, this person that said things and did things that I didn’t like, that I didn’t want to do. I don’t know if I can explain it.”
Kate was quiet for a while, letting it all sink in, watching Nat’s half-full glass.
“It made you fit in. It was what was expected of you. Just like the drink and the drugs are now,” she said, finally.
“No,” said Nat. She paused. “Maybe.”
“Why me?”
“I don’t know. Why not you, I suppose. You were there.”
“I was an easy target.”
“And you were beautiful,” Nat said suddenly. “You were beautiful and I could see it in you. I could tell that you hadn’t recognized it in yourself yet, that you hadn’t seen it. But I saw what you were becoming and I wanted to crush it. I was the beautiful one. Beauty was my thing. It was all that I was, all that I am. My father used to call me ‘my beauty.’ I didn’t want you to have that too.”
“Jealousy.”
“Probably.”
Kate stirred. “You know, you’re not just beautiful.”
Nat laughed, but it wasn’t a real laugh, it was a sad approximation of one. “Sometimes I wonder,” she said. “My face is what defines me. It’s who I am. I’m the beautiful one.”
“But you’ve told me yourself that you’re generous, that you stand up for yourself, that you’re optimistic.”
“I am. But that’s never what people see. They just see the beauty.”
Kate took a drink. “You know,” she said. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you because you’re beautiful.”
And then Nat did laugh, a real one. “You’re probably right about that,” she said. “Sorry.”
“You thought I was beautiful.”
The thought didn’t seem real.
“You are beautiful, Kate. Jesus. Did I destroy you so much that you can’t even see that now?”
Kate shrugged. She felt uncomfortable, like a pinned butterfly wriggling under glass. Nat shifted closer. Her hand reached out, touched Kate’s leg and she wanted to recoil but couldn’t, didn’t.
“Kate, I am so sorry. I can’t say anything else. I can’t undo what’s been done. I understand if you hate me.”
“I don’t.”
The words slipped out without her thinking about it.
“Give me another chance. I don’t deserve it. God knows, if I were you, I’d want to punch me right about now.”
Kate sipped slowly from her glass. “Tell me something,” she said. “Would you do it again? Given the same circumstances, given that we were the same people now as then, would you do the same thing again.”
It took a moment for Nat to answer. A moment when the afternoon sun caught her hair and made it glow in a halo around her head.
“If I were me but taken back all those years, no. If I were the same little girl all over again, then yes.”
The honesty took Kate by surprise. She nodded.
“You really thought I was beautiful?” she asked. She couldn’t help herself. It was such a strange thing to hear.
“I did. I do,” Nat said. And she was leaning closer. Close enough that Kate could smell her again, close enough that the warmth emanating from her was tickling at Kate’s skin. “And maybe there was something else, some other reason. Some reason that I was far too young to understand at the time.”
“Like what?” Kate had to force the question out of her dry mouth.
Nat’s lips were tantalizingly close. Those eyes were half-closed and Kate could feel the energy sparking between them. She didn’t understand it, but she could feel it. All it would take would be for one of them to shift, just an inch, and then those lips would be touching hers. Her pulse raced, warmth welled up in her stomach.
“Like what?” she pressed, wanting to hear it, knowing what it was, what it could be, but not wanting to assume it.
Nat’s eyes flashed closed and infinitesimally she moved back.
“Nothing,” she said. “Nothing. Forget that I said anything.”
She turned and looked towards the window.
“Time’s moving on,” she said.
“I need to go and get all that equipment from outside.”
“I’ll get it.”
Kate was about to demur, about to say that she could do it herself, but Nat’s look stopped her.
“Please,” Nat said. “Let me get it. I’ll be careful. Let me help.”
She nodded and Nat stood up.
The cabin seemed empty without her, colder. Kate wasn’t dumb. Something had almost happened there, something that she wanted just as much as she hated herself for wanting it. Nat’s explanations had helped. Not excused, but helped. Maybe she understood just a little better now. The pain wasn’t gone, but it was soothed, duller somehow. But all of that faded against what had almost been spoken, almost been done.
“She’s got a boyfriend.”
She had to speak the words aloud to make them seem more real.
“She’s got a boyfriend and she’s not interested.”
Adding the clause didn’t help. Nat’s actions, her words, all said that she was interested. Kate just didn’t understand why. Nat knew she was gay, had heard her tell Jake that she was gay. Maybe this was just a new game, a new form of teasing, one that would end with her being just as hurt as before.
Then her anger was back. That’s what this had to be. A new way of bullying her. A new way of making her feel inferior. She swallowed, wetting her lips, picking up her glass again and downing the rest of the liquor. Nat Lee was not to be trusted. Not in the slightest.
And yet, said the voice in her head, you didn’t think she was lying, did you? Not like every other time she lied.
Kate lay down, pulling the blanket over her. It was early, but she was tired. So tired. All the thinking, the talking, the emotions, the drinking, all exhausted her. She closed her eyes. Her last thought was that this couldn’t happen. None of this could happen. Maybe she was dreaming it all.
Chapter Nine
The shoot finished without incident. Kate kept her comments to herself, tried to be less controlling, and acted as professionally as she knew how. Nat did her job, in the effortless, elegant way that she had. And Kate ignored the light-hearted comments, the hand on her arm, the attempts at conversation, until Nat seemed to withdraw b
ack into herself.
By a little after lunchtime on Sunday, they were back on the road, and Kate had never been so glad to see the back of the cabin. Bringing Nat here, letting her memories despoil the place, had been a mistake. Letting someone else into her little private oasis hadn’t been a good thing. The trip back to the city was distant. Music played, but no one sang. Whatever fragile connection had been made was no longer there, destroyed in part by Kate’s own silence, she knew that. She missed it, missed the growing sense of a kind of bond building, but it was all for the best.
They were approaching the outskirts of the city before Nat spoke.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For taking me up there. It was your grandfather’s place wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Kate, hoping the short answer would dissuade Nat from talking more.
“It was nice,” she said quietly. “Calm. Peaceful. You’re nice.”
Kate said nothing and Nat shifted in her seat until she was half-turned toward her.
“You calm me,” she said. “I don’t know why. I feel more centered around you. I guess because there’s no pressure. I don’t have to be... cool, I suppose. It’s a nice feeling. I’m not doing a great job of explaining myself, but I wanted to say thank you.”
Kate thawed a little, could feel the ice dripping away from her vow to remain distant.
“You should feel like that all the time,” she said.
“I’d like to.”
But Nat’s words were more than a generality. They seemed to hold a promise of something more. Something that made Kate uncomfortable again and hopeful as well, the two feelings mixing together and blending until they were indistinguishable.
“The life you lead in the city is toxic,” she said now, knowing it would irritate Nat. “The drugs, the drink, the people. It’s a toxic life and one that’s going to destroy you if you’re not careful.”
She was skirting the city now, taking the next exit, the one that would bring them out closest to Nat’s building.
“It’s the only life I know,” Nat said. “It’s the only life I know how to live. The only one I want.” She paused, then added: “I’m strong enough to get through it though.”
And Kate found herself hoping that she truly was, that Nat wasn’t going to crumble and fade into obscurity, or worse, as so many others did in the city.
“Bring me copies of the pictures?” Nat said as they were turning into her street.
“Sure,” said Kate, intending to courier them. The less contact she had with Nat, the better.
“Aw, shit.”
It took Kate a second to see what the problem was, but as she got closer to the building she saw a bright red Porsche parked outside, half on the curb. She pulled in behind it and was far from surprised when Brooks Lyon stepped out of it.
“Nat honey,” he said, swooping in to kiss Nat’s cheeks.
“Just grabbing my bags,” Nat said, escaping his embrace and walking around the van.
“She looks good.”
Kate nodded, wondering if this was why Brooks was here, to check up on them, to see if she’d kept to their agreement. Then she remembered her part of the deal. Fair was fair.
“She was amazing,” she said. “Professional, mature, the shots are looking incredible. She was a real pro, Brooks. Definitely able to handle the shoot without any... help.” She didn’t want to say the words booze or pills, so she didn’t.
Brooks grinned. “Looks like I should employ you as a full-time babysitter then,” he said.
Kate slammed the van door as she climbed back in and poked her head out of the window. “Not a chance.”
She heard the trunk slam and assumed that Nat had her stuff.
“Bye!” she called out of the window.
And then she pulled out, not waiting to see if Nat had heard her, wanting to get home, wanting her own space.
Unloading the van took forever. And as she was staggering up the studio stairs with yet another pair of hard cases she wanted, just for a brief moment, Nat to be there to help her. Wanted another pair of hands.
✽✽✽
“So, was it absolutely horrific?”
Mel’s blonde hair was shining in the lights of the bar. A typical Mel bar, Kate thought, as a cold cocktail was slid in front of her. All white and chrome and people so beautiful that they had to be fake. Half the women in here could barely move their faces they’d had so much work done. It all suddenly depressed her, this constant LA pressure to look good, to look young, to look perfect.
“Yes and no,” she allowed.
“Both? Hell, Kate, give me something to work with here. I need details.”
Kate sighed, and in one swift movement she tipped back the cocktail, draining it, the fruity bitterness making her eyes water.
“Jesus. She turned you into an alcoholic.”
Kate put the glass down and gestured to the waiter for another.
“The work stuff was fine,” she said. “Great. I’ve spent the last three and a half days going over the shots and doing touch ups. They’re amazing.”
“Okay,” Mel said slowly. “So what’s the hard drinking all about then?”
“She knows who I am.”
Mel’s eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect O. She jiggled in her chair with excitement.
“Tell me all, tell me everything. What did she say? What did you say? Did you punch her?”
“No punching,” Kate said, grinning against her will.
And then she spilled the whole story, telling Mel almost every detail about the weekend. She left out only the truly personal stuff, only the feelings, only the things that she didn’t even want to think about herself.
“She sounds sad,” Mel said when Kate was done talking. “Lonely. I know she hurt you, Kate. But I can’t help but feel kind of bad for her. Imagine growing up with parents who didn’t even want you. Parents who couldn’t care a damn where you were or what you were doing. Growing up as an expensive and beautiful pet.”
Kate sighed. “I know. I felt the same. Feel the same. I don’t excuse what she did. But I’m finding it harder and harder not to... well, forgive it I guess.”
“Forgiveness is good. Forgiveness is healthy. Leave the baggage behind and move on.”
“I know, I know. You don’t have to give me the LA psychoanalysis fad of the moment,” Kate said. “Forgiveness is good, if I can actually get there. I’m not sure right now. It’s all still kind of new. I need to change an opinion I’ve held for years and years, change the way I think about something that hurt me deeply. It’s not exactly easy.”
The second drink arrived, and Kate sipped at this one.
“So what’s got you all down in the mouth?” Mel asked. She was twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger for the benefit of a tall, dark man dressed in a tailored suit and sitting at the far end of the bar. “You’ve got your shots, you’re going to have a stunning portfolio. You’ve completed the assignment, there’s no need for you to see Nat Lee again. Everything seems to be coming up roses.”
“I worry about her,” Kate said without really thinking about it.
“About who?”
“Nat.”
Why was she doing this? Why was she saying this?
“Why?”
Kate shrugged. “This life she leads, it’s going to kill her one way or another. She thinks she’s so strong. But I’m not sure she is. She was fine over the weekend, but back in the city, I don’t think she’ll hold out for too long before she’s back to partying and drinking and popping pills.”
Mel frowned and untangled her hair with deft fingers. “Why do you care?” she asked. “It’s not like you have to see her again. Okay, so you shared a past. That doesn’t mean you need to be bosom buddies now. You got your closure, or kind of. Accept it and move on.”
And Kate’s heart started to shake and her fingers grew slippery around the stem of her glass. She needed to talk about this, needed to s
ay the words. And Mel was the only person she could do that with. The only one.
“I’m not so sure.”
“Not sure?”
“I think... I mean, I guess, there could be...” And words failed her.
She couldn’t look at Mel, but she could feel her, sense her. It was dawning on her, she felt the crackling energy of Mel begin to understand.
“You like her.”
There. She hadn’t said the words. Mel had. Was that any better or any worse than her admitting them herself?
She took a breath. “Maybe.”
“Jesus, Kate. What the hell happened up there?”
“I don’t know. I honestly don’t. She’s not who I expected her to be. She’s not the way I thought she’d be. She’s attractive, certainly. But there’s more than that. She’s smart, asks great questions, understands the business. She’s helpful. She calls me out on my shit, tells me when I’m being controlling. She sings in the car even though she can’t hold a tune in a bucket. I don’t know. Who does know? What makes one person like another? Hormones? Chemistry? I wish I didn’t feel this way, I wish I could understand why I do so that I could stop it. But I can’t stop it. It’s just how it is.”
“Falling in love with your childhood nemesis,” Mel said thoughtfully. “There’s a movie treatment in that somewhere.”
“I didn’t say I was falling in love. I said I might like her. Against my will. Much against my will.”
“What about her will?” asked Mel.
“I’m not sure,” confessed Kate. “She’s straight. She has a boyfriend. But I thought that maybe there was something there. She was touchy-feely, but maybe that’s just her. I got, I don’t know, signals I suppose. But I might have misinterpreted them.”
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