“She sounds like someone I want to meet. Where is she tonight?”
“Oh, well, unfortunately her side of the bargain fell through at the last minute, so she didn’t come.”
Kevin set two margaritas in front of them along with Brittany’s credit card. “Ladies, on the house.”
“Thanks, handsome.” Brittany touched his arm, then raised an eyebrow at Katrina. “You came here by yourself?”
“Yep.”
“Do you know anyone here? I mean, besides me?”
“Not really. There’s a handful of people from school I’ll probably meet up with at some point, but they’re not exactly buddies.” Although two could hardly be called a handful, she didn’t feel like admitting just how few people she knew here in New York. They also hadn’t e-mailed her back, another depressing factoid she didn’t feel like sharing.
“Wow. Good for you for flying solo. I wouldn’t ever have expected you to make such a bold move, but I guess everyone grows up eventually. You were such a shy little thing back in the dorms. Quieter than a baby hamster.”
Katrina realized how accurate—if not exactly flattering—the description was. But she didn’t take offense. It was clear Brittany hadn’t meant it as an insult, and that she didn’t see Katrina as a wallflower anymore . . . even though Katrina knew all too well that she was just as much of a “shy little thing” as ever. She glanced at the sliding stack of coasters and quickly moved to straighten them.
Brittany held up her glass for a toast. “Cheers to you for having a pair, and welcome to New York. It’s a damn fun place to be, I’ll tell you that much.”
Katrina clinked her margarita against Brittany’s and took a small sip, trying her best not to visibly flinch at the strong kick of tequila. The crowd around them was getting louder, so she raised her voice a few decibels. “How long have you been living here?”
Brittany closed her eyes and tapped her forehead with her index finger. “How long have I been living here? Oh Jesus, let’s see. . . . I came here straight out of business school . . .”
Katrina watched her do the math in her head.
“So that puts it at eight years now.” Brittany opened her eyes. “Damn! Scary how fast time goes.”
“So I’ve heard,” Katrina said. “You work in investment banking, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m in mergers and acquisitions at Goldman Sachs.”
Katrina took another sip of her drink. “Do you like it?” Despite her own mundane experience in accounting, Katrina had always thought investment banking sounded like the more glamorous side of the number-crunching world—and with much better perks.
Brittany raised her eyebrow again. “Do I like it? Now that is a loaded question.”
“What do you mean?”
She stirred her margarita. “Well . . . I love the money, I hate the hours. I love the challenge, I hate the politics. I love the intellectual stimulation, I hate being on the road so much. I love the lifestyle, I hate the lifestyle. Need I go on?”
Katrina smiled. “I think I get the picture. Are there a lot of women in your field? I think you’re the only investment banker I know, male or female. Actually, that’s not quite true. I went on a few dates with a banker once, but then he stopped calling.” Katrina stiffened and wondered why she was being so candid with that information. Was the tequila already affecting her? Or was it just the fact that she was in a new environment? Regardless, it felt nice to share, and Brittany didn’t seem to find the comment odd at all.
“Yes, there are women, just not even close to as many as there should be. But you could say that about most high-paying jobs in this country, couldn’t you?” She took a big sip of her margarita and glanced around the room, then put her hand on Katrina’s arm. “So tell me, what have you been up to since college? I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were a freshman. Just a baby, you were.”
Katrina hesitated, embarrassed at the dearth of interesting stories she had to share about her life since then. She squeezed the stem of her glass. “Not much, really. I’ve been living in Mountain View since I graduated.”
“Mountain View? Why on earth would any recent college graduate want to live in Mountain View?” Brittany looked sincerely perplexed. “Nearly everyone I knew in school moved to San Francisco.”
Katrina shifted on her bar stool. “I, um, I got offered a job at an advertising agency there a few weeks before the end of my senior year, so I took it. I started the week after graduation, and before I knew it, I’d been there for eight years.” Saying it out loud made her even more self-conscious. How did that happen?
Brittany’s eyes brightened. “Advertising? Sounds fun. What sort of campaigns have you worked on? Anything I might have seen?”
Katrina cleared her throat. “Oh, well, actually I worked in the finance department, so I wasn’t involved in the campaigns. I was an accounting major.”
“Oh.” The brightness in Brittany’s eyes disappeared. Despite her genuine interest in Katrina, she was clearly—however understandably—underwhelmed by this information.
Katrina slouched a little on her stool, wishing she hadn’t led such a boring life. No wonder she avoided social situations. She never had anything interesting to add to the conversation. “What did you major in?” she asked, hoping to deflect the focus from herself.
Brittany shrugged and glanced around the bar. “Econ. Pretty standard in my industry. Where are you staying while you’re in town?”
Katrina perked up a little bit at the reminder that she was no longer working at the agency and, at least for the moment, no longer living in Mountain View. For once, she did have something interesting to say. “I’ve sublet an apartment in Gramercy. Although my neighbor told me I should say the East Village because she thinks it sounds cooler.”
Brittany smiled. “Your neighbor sounds funny. And young. Is she young?”
“I think she said she’s twenty-six.”
Brittany pointed at her. “Bingo. Everyone in their twenties wants to live in the East Village and go dancing like a rock star every night. Then one day they turn thirty, and soon they start wearing earplugs to sleep and bitching about the piles of trash they have to navigate on the way to work. And then, eventually, they realize it’s time to find a new neighborhood.”
Katrina winced. She’d been wearing earplugs to bed since her freshman year in college.
“Did you leave anyone back home?” Brittany asked.
“You mean a boyfriend?”
“You think I was talking about a cat?”
Katrina laughed awkwardly. “No, no boyfriend.” She said the words quickly. Too quickly, she thought, as if she’d replied Of course I don’t have a boyfriend! Why would I have a boyfriend? Was it really that odd a question?
Brittany polished off her drink. “Well, that’s a good thing, because there are plenty of men here. Not many are worth bringing home to Mom and Dad for the holidays, but believe me, if you’re looking for a good time, men are everywhere in New York.” She pointed at the bartender and lowered her voice. “That one, for example.”
Katrina’s eyes followed Brittany’s index finger. Kevin was at the other end of the bar, chatting with two women who were both smiling a bit too eagerly at him.
“You dated him?”
“Dated? No.”
Unsure how to respond to that, Katrina just said “Oh.”
Brittany shrugged. “He’s cute enough, but the sex wasn’t anything special, so that was the end of that. He makes yummy margaritas though, doesn’t he? Do you want another?”
Katrina looked down at her glass. It was still more than half full. “Oh, no, thanks. I’m okay.”
“You sure? You’ve been nursing that one for quite a while.”
“I’m sure. Thanks though.”
Brittany caught Kevin’s attention and ordered another drink, then turne
d to face Katrina and lowered her voice. “I think he’s still a little bitter that I blew him off, but whatever. I’ll tip him well if he actually lets me buy a round.”
Again, Katrina didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t. Instead, she asked “What about now? Are you seeing anyone?”
Brittany waved a hand in front of her face. “Hon, I’m always seeing someone. It’s just a different someone every few weeks.”
“Really?” Katrina usually went months between first dates. Second dates were even fewer and farther between. Third dates almost never happened.
“Yes, really. I work too much and travel way too much to get serious with any one person.”
“Your life sounds so glamorous.”
Brittany shrugged. “Sometimes. Other times it’s just draining. But whatever it is, it suits me. I’m not one to settle down for the long haul. Never have been, really.”
“Didn’t you have a serious boyfriend when you were my RA? A guy with glasses?”
“Good memory. His name was Scott. We dated for like three years, but he wanted to get married and have lots of babies, and I didn’t, so we broke up.”
“That’s too bad.” Katrina couldn’t even fathom what it would feel like to date someone for three years.
Brittany yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “Oh gosh, don’t feel sorry for me for even a minute. It was for the best, believe me. I’m definitely not the marrying type, and certainly not the having-babies type. Plus no one should get married before the age of thirty anyway. That’s insanity, in my opinion.”
“Do you still talk to him?”
She shook her head. “Not in ages. It’s ancient history now.”
“And you still don’t want to get married?”
Brittany pulled a lipstick out of her purse and discreetly applied it. “I don’t think so. I’m too much of a free spirit for that. Maybe one day, when I’m much, much older, but for now I’m just not interested in coming home to the same man every night and fighting over who takes out the trash every morning.”
“But what if you fell in love again?” Doesn’t everyone want to fall in love? Katrina thought. She certainly did.
Brittany smirked. “I doubt that’s going to happen, and love ends up turning to dust most of the time anyway. So I just prefer to have fun and focus on myself. Life is much easier that way. Plus sometimes sex is more fun when you know you’re never going to see the guy again. You should try that sometime, if you haven’t already.”
Katrina had never heard a woman speak so nonchalantly about sex and relationships—especially a woman in her thirties. Most of the women she knew back home were either married, well on their way there, or actively looking for Mr. Right—or at least hoping to run into him. She certainly was—however passively—and had always assumed everyone else was too. Could she be wrong?
She glanced at the small stack of coasters—it was still intact—and searched for something interesting to say in response to Brittany’s comments. She wanted to be livelier, bolder, cooler—to come up with something witty, if only to mask how surprised she was at the brazen remarks.
Before she could say anything, Brittany said, “Hold on a second. That’s my phone buzzing.” She dug her phone out of her purse, then smiled at the text message and put a hand on Katrina’s arm without looking up. “I’m so sorry to be rude, but given what we were just talking about, I need a quick second to reply to this.”
Katrina welcomed the break in conversation and took the opportunity to stand up. “No worries. I’ll just run to the ladies’ room. Be right back.”
Brittany nodded, still not looking up from her phone.
Katrina navigated her way through the crowd to the restrooms in the back. While in line, she glanced around and noticed several couples sitting on oversized lounge chairs on the left. While most of them were cuddled up, some of them looked obviously uncomfortable, and she wondered if they were on first dates. Would that be her soon? She hadn’t been on a first date—any date—in months, but she’d always felt awkward on them. She hated feeling like she was on some kind of audition, and often buckled under the pressure of trying to impress someone new.
But maybe it would be different here?
Maybe she would be different here?
Perhaps it was because of all the movies she’d watched over the years, but the idea of going on a date in New York seemed so . . . romantic. And despite what Brittany had just said, Katrina still hoped that love might, someday, somehow, find her.
Maybe New York was where it would finally happen?
Where she’d finally meet a man who understood her?
One who saw her for who she really was . . . and loved her for it?
When she got back, Brittany was chatting with Kevin. It looked like she was flirting. Maybe she’d changed her mind about him?
“That was quick,” Brittany said as Katrina took a stool. “I thought you’d be gone for ages.”
Kevin pointed to Katrina’s drink. “Can I get you another one?”
“Oh no, I’m fine. Thanks.” Katrina covered the glass with her palm.
“Okay, just let me know. Britt, give a shout if you need anything.” He smiled at both of them and headed back to the women at the other end of the bar.
“He’s trying way too hard,” Brittany said under her breath when he was well out of earshot.
Just then a hand appeared on Brittany’s shoulder. She swiveled around, then jumped up to hug the man standing behind her. He had dark brown, perfectly coiffed hair and equally dark almond-shaped eyes that suggested intelligence—in addition to notable good looks.
“Damn, that was fast. I want you to meet my friend from college.” Brittany turned to Katrina. “Katrina, I mean Kat, Lynden, this is Reid Hanson. Reid, Kat just moved here from Silicon Valley.”
Katrina extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Reid.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Kat.” He smiled and shook her hand before pointing to the bar. “Do you ladies need another round?”
Katrina noticed a wedding ring on his left hand and shook her head. “I’m still working on my first, thanks.”
“Enough nursing,” Brittany said. “Yes, Reid, she needs another one. I’ll take one too.”
There were no more available stools, so after Reid ordered the drinks he stood behind Katrina and Brittany, forming a little half circle between them and the bar that succeeded in slightly insulating them from the noise.
“That was Reid who texted me before,” Brittany said. “He was asking what I was up to, so I told him to come join us for a drink.”
Katrina glanced at her watch. “Did you just come from work?” It was close to nine o’clock.
He nodded. “Yes, but let’s not talk about that. Work is the last thing I want to be thinking about right now. So Brittany says you and she met in college?” He narrowed his eyes and looked back and forth between them. “Let me guess. Same sorority?”
Brittany shook her head. “I wasn’t in a sorority.”
“Were you represented by the same modeling agency?”
Brittany rolled her eyes. “Spare us, please.”
He snapped his fingers. “I got it. Cheerleaders for the football team?”
“Stop it. I was Katrina’s RA.”
He looked confused. “What’s an RA?”
Brittany gave him an are-you-serious look. “Resident adviser? In the dorms?”
Reid nodded. “Ah, got it. Sorry, it’s been a long time since I lived in the dorms.”
Brittany took a sip of her margarita. “My senior year I got free room and board for keeping the freshmen out of trouble.” She leaned over and squeezed Katrina’s knee. “Not that this one ever got into trouble. She was as pure as the driven snow.”
Katrina felt her cheeks flush again, but neither Reid nor Brittany seemed to noti
ce her embarrassment. How could they know how little she had changed since then? Her history of getting into trouble read more like a greeting card than a novel.
As Reid made eye contact with Katrina, she felt a shiver of anxiety course through her. “So, Snow White, is it? What brings you to New York?” he asked with a polite smile.
She swallowed and tried frantically to think how to respond, desperate to sound more fabulous than she felt. “I guess you could say . . . adventure.”
His smile grew into a grin. “Oh really?”
“She quit her job and came here by herself to have fun for a couple months,” Brittany said. “Pretty badass, if you ask me.”
“That is pretty badass,” Reid said. “You sound like my kind of woman, Snow White.”
Brittany playfully batted him on the arm. “You should be so lucky. So how’s life at Morgan Stanley treating you?” She looked at Katrina. “Reid’s in banking too. We used to work together.”
“I’m hanging in there. The European market sure took it on the chin today. That’s why I was at the office so late.”
“Ugh, let’s not talk about the European market.” Brittany stuck out her tongue. “I’ve been hearing about that disaster all day.”
Kevin brought over the drinks, and as he set a second margarita in front of her, Katrina quickly picked up her first one and took a sip, hoping it wasn’t too obvious how full it still was. As she took another big gulp, she tried once more to ignore the burning in her throat. She also tried not to notice the fact that she’d just knocked over her coasters.
Brittany was holding up her margarita for another toast. “Here’s to old friends and new friends.”
“And future friends,” Reid said.
“Hear, hear,” Brittany said. “Can’t forget future friends.”
Katrina clinked her glass against theirs, then forced herself to take another big gulp. Then another, and another. Each one set her throat on fire, but she finally finished the first margarita. Her eyes watering, she set down the empty glass and picked up the full one. Brittany and Reid didn’t appear to notice; they were staring across the room at someone they thought used to work with them.
Katwalk Page 6
