by Sorell Oates
‘Whatever garbage Robert spouted, you had some serious explaining to do. I was so wound up I didn’t even bother texting to let you know I’d be late. The wait between receiving that photo and midnight was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. People bandy the word torturous around. For me that wait was as close as I’ve come to experiencing torturous.’
Katy’s silence was stoic. Unmoving in her flannel pajamas, she wasn’t wringing her hands anxiously, crying or shivering.
‘I got to his pad to find him naked in slippers and a dressing gown which was also torturous in its own way,’
Momentarily a ghost of a smile played on both their mouths, but the present eradicated any shared sense of a joke they might appreciate now or in the future.
‘He’d obviously prepared well in advance. The phone was plugged into his TV screen. I saw six photos of you with six different men. The final guy snapped with you at 10.27pm last night. You’d have been out with him when I was driving up to see you. I’ve never been the violent type but I felt destructive. I was raging.
‘Robert ensured I couldn’t fail to miss the evidence. To make sure he logged onto Exclusive Love. Guess who hadn’t deleted their profile? Remember last weekend Robert telling me by not utilizing my subscription I was putting all my eggs in one basket. I cockily implied there was no risk. You must’ve had a good laugh at my expense.’
‘That wasn’t how it was. I wasn’t laughing behind your back and at no point did I derive any enjoyment from it.’
Finally. Some of his hurt from his encounter with Robert penetrated enough to elicit a reaction from her, however empty and shallow. Oscar wanted to scream at Katy. Verbally attack her insecurities. He knew her weakest spots and words were more effective than violence.
‘Robert tells me you’re a fraud and actually I felt relieved. It was like the pink elephant in the room no one will mention. My soul exhaled to finally be able to say to someone, or in this case agree: yes, Katy’s a fraud. I realize my incessant frustrations and sometimes careless behavior towards your feelings was because my ears and eyes were telling me one thing and my instinct another.
‘The conflict drove me mad. I’d test you, but not know I was testing you. I started to hate myself for doing it to you. My poor old body and brain were trying to communicate with no help from you. You had every chance to tell me and come clean. I loved you. I wouldn’t have cared. But you lied to me. Even on Thursday you still lied. I can only think it’s because you wanted something from me that wasn’t my unconditional love.
‘Robert’s supporting arguments did include you not recognizing the champagne and the drunken lie of holidaying in Italy. He had more than those two on his list of tell tale signs contradicting your necessary requirement for admission on Exclusive Love. If he’d expected me to flinch, slap my forehead at my blindness, he didn’t get that response.
‘After all, I knew you were a fraud from the start.’
‘You never once had a request for an autograph. Without a television station behind you, what journalist earns that kind of money? You weren’t posted on special assignment here this week. You work here.
‘Your clothes were vintage, but your accessories weren’t. It clashed to see you wearing shoes bought at a retail shop at the local mall and that designer dress on the yacht. I mean your surprise visit on Thursday night you were au natural. Jeans and a t-shirt, not a designer touch in sight. I wondered if that’s why the sex was so amazing, because you were finally you. Comfortable in your own skin you could be you. I didn’t want you to be fraud. I attributed your dress sense to your own unique style. It worked. You were always gorgeous.
‘The lack of a vehicle and unwillingness to ever accept the offer of a ride. That was because you live here. My driver would’ve told me where he dropped you if you’d accepted a ride.
‘The absence of an invite to stay at yours. Your eyes were like saucers for the entire weekend in the Hamptons. Everything you saw, everyone you met, everything we did impressed you. No one with a modicum of life experience would’ve engaged as actively as you did. But I saw those saucer eyes when you woke at the Four Seasons and I saw them when you walked onto the roof terrace at Gramercy’s Hotel. That feels like a lifetime ago when it was less than a fortnight.
‘There were moments when I’d never felt happier then when I was with you. Moments I was certain I was seeing the real you, as if you’d forgotten your act. Was the whole thing in my head? Katy? Katy, please? I need to hear a straight answer.’
Oscar’s voice broke. Pacing the length of the patio. Hands shoved deep in his jogging bottoms. Vocalizing every doubt and suspicion he’d had. Confessing to Katy how foolish he’d been, but not being fooled. In the end he sat on the swing seat to wait for her reply.
‘It wasn’t in your head. I felt it too.’
‘I’m twelve years older but you opened me up, taught me to love then abandoned me. I feel like crying but I can’t. I trusted you and you made a mockery of my feelings. I don’t have anyone to discuss this with.’
‘You have me. Ask me. Ask me any question you want. Ask me every question you have. I’ll answer it honestly, but when you leave, you leave knowing I loved you and I never wanted to hurt you and I never wanted to lie to you.’
‘I want to know,’ began Oscar brokenly.
‘Not yet. I need to know you know. I need to hear you say it.’
‘I believe you,’ he said icily.
‘Say it aloud,’ demanded Katy quietly. ‘I need to know that message has got through. If you can’t do that, then go. You’ll find someone new. Any questions you pondered over in relation to me will be forgotten. As you said, we aren’t even two weeks.’
‘I know you love me and I know you didn’t want to hurt me. I know that’s not your nature Katy. As for the lying. I can’t say that with conviction. Prove me wrong.’
‘Fire away,’ invited Katy.
‘Why didn’t you sleep with Robert?’
‘Because I’m in love with you.’
‘Given you could’ve saved this relationship if you’d slept with Robert why didn’t you?’
‘I was in love with you. That’s why I declined it. I’m not perfect but I try. I’d rather lose you by Robert revealing my real life than to ever betray you. Circumstance created very difficult situations for me. I responded to them as the person I was in that moment. The consequences of those decisions shifted my priorities. Decisions made in innocence have had seriously dark and damaging repercussions.’
‘When you came to me on Thursday night and we had sex. Were you thinking of Robert or wishing you had slept with him?’
‘No. Never. In case you didn’t figure it out, I had until midnight last night to fulfill any inclination I may have had to bed Robert. Visiting you Thursday, I knew we were over. Our relationship was unraveling at such a rate I hadn’t time to explain. Without the opportunity to explain I knew you’d go. I wanted to remember the last time I made love to you, the last time I kissed you. Every particle of me was focused on you on Thursday night.’
‘I didn’t ask for extra details. If I wanted to know I’d ask.’
The sentences ran out of his mouth in a jumble but Katy heard them. Each word a pinprick in her heart.
‘How did you bypass the financial screen check at Exclusive Love?’
‘My boss deposited a sum of money in my account to reflect the monthly salary of someone earning $100,000 a year and my grandparents let me borrow a lump sum to plump up the account balance. Monies were returned upon verification.’
‘Katy. I think I’ll go.’
‘If you’re done and you feel it’s what you must do.’
‘I want the facts but you push the details. Repaying your boss and grandparents. Not defaulting on an agreed financial arrangement. It doesn’t in any way negate your lies to bypass the Exclusive Love financial screening process. Confessing you used me for sex on Thursday so you’d have a pleasant last memory of us isn’t sweet. It’s selfish. When you lef
t, I thought we were forever. I thought I’d be having sex with you again and again.
‘I was ecstatic from your spontaneous visit. I was caught in that feeling you came to save us. I didn’t capture the physical sensation of the sex. If I ever want to revisit us in bed, it’ll be a blur. I didn’t know it was the end, but thank god it was.’
‘Go, Oscar. I’m not keeping you here or begging on bended knee for you to stay.’
‘I’ve one last question and you did promise to answer. Afterward I’ll go and I guarantee you’ll never see or hear from me again.’
Eyes locked, she accepted his words.
‘Something didn’t tally. The photos of you and the other men,’ Oscar paused. ‘You need to seriously consider Robert might be stalking you or tracking you with a private investigator. He’s not right in head.’
‘Forget Robert. I’ll hear no more from him. He’s achieved what he set out to do,’ assured Katy.
Shaking himself to fight his natural instinct to protect Katy, Oscar was obviously conflicted.
‘The photos Robert showed me had dates and times on them. Two were taken Thursday and four were taken yesterday. If you were after my money, you’d have slept with Robert and fought to maintain the facade. The first night I took you home because you were ill, I tried it on with you. I knew you fancied me but you didn’t put out so I know you’re not a slut. Why so many men so soon? Who dates four guys in a day?’
‘I presented my boss with an idea relating to Exclusive Love.com. A friend sent me the link. I wanted to understand why British millionaires were opposed to the notion of dating a normal woman earning less than $100,000. It was an attention grabbing screening process and extraordinary concept for a dating site. It was a break for me in the news-office. We set up the profile. If the article got picked up by the nationals, my name would get similar recognition.
‘I hoped I could move on to a bigger paper. Independent and self-assured, you were my first date. In your company, I realized I was out of my comfort zone and needed help. The next morning I saw a softer sensitive side to you that attracted me. I thought I’d use us as a practice date, move on to another bachelor off Exclusive Love and fill you in on my job. When I asked for assistance on the assignment, my boss went into a state of panic.
‘Threatening to take me off the story and replace me I used the only artillery I had in my arsenal to stay on the project. It was your invite to the Hamptons. I fell in love with you, came back and told him there was no story. He went mental, threatening to fire me unless I came up with an idea. To pacify him I said I’d date the men that responded to my profile to see if I could find a lead. Robert was one of them under an assumed identity. It was four dates a day, apart from the one I canceled Thursday night to see you.’
‘And the article?’
‘There’s no story there.’
‘But there is. They insist poor people aren’t appropriate dates for British millionaires when you’ve demonstrated otherwise. They allow paying customers to use a dating relationship match website as a sex website. What’s stopping you running it?’
‘It would impact on and hurt people I care deeply for. It wasn’t a hard decision to make. I wonder now given the nature of my profession if I’m someone who’ll survive it long-term.’
‘Thank you. Imogen would be very grateful.’
Oscar kicked a loose stone, walking down the patio stairs.
‘I’m flying home.’
‘Dressing down for the long plane trip.’
‘I’ve laid a foundation at work. Created and tailored the relevant plans and strategies required. Business should work out if they’re followed. I’ve told my father, their implementation doesn’t require me specifically. They can hire, promote or borrow someone for the hard graft needed.’
‘What time do you fly out?’
‘5pm.’
‘Seems I wasn’t the only one with secrets and lies.’
‘I didn’t lie to you.’
‘No? When did you book the ticket?’
‘Goodbye, Katherine.’
‘Hey, Oscar,’ she yelled from the patio stairs as he inserted the keys in the engine of the red Aston Martin.
‘Yeah?’
‘I answered your questions, but you didn’t uphold your end of the bargain.’
He killed the engine.
‘Something doesn’t tally up. My boss green-lighted the Exclusive Love article and I completed the online application on the 8th of July. The money from my Grandparents was deposited into my account on the 11th July, the salary deposited mid month on the 15th of July. I got my confirmation of membership on the 22nd of July and made contact with you on the same day. We met on the 23rd of July. I fell in love with you on Saturday the 27th July.
‘We were parked under the cabin in the Ferrari talking about the charity barbeque and you said ‘I see you. The real you. The person you are.’ It is important to me that you walk away today knowing I never wanted to lie to you, but you said you couldn’t say it with conviction. You asked me to prove you wrong. As a rational, logical, intelligent man who analyzes complicated data for a lucrative living, with that time line of events did I prove you wrong or do you truly believe that I wanted to lie to you?’
‘How do I know those dates aren’t lies to make me reconsider?’
‘Because you see the real me, the person I am. If what you said was true, I shouldn’t even be pleading and presenting a case.’
Chapter Twenty-four
New beginnings definitely sounded better than change. Change conjured up images of fear, forced learning, a lack of control. New beginnings suggested vigor, energy, forward thinking. As it occurred, change was awkward, unwelcome and pronounced. New beginnings were visible on the horizon, anticipated and blended smoothly with life’s natural flow.
‘New Beginnings’ or ‘Change’, Katy’s life had somersaulted over the course of two weeks transforming the girl into a woman. She embraced her womanhood and the power within which literally changed her world over the course of fourteen days.
Inexperienced and in love, standing on the street she’d grown up on, Katy bared her entire soul publicly in the name of love. Oscar left refusing to answer the question, but it hadn’t mattered. Bravely exposing her heart, in the instance she asked Oscar if he could see the real person she was, Katy was able to see herself properly for the first time. She saw herself through Oscar’s eyes and knew what had to be done.
Handing in her notice on Monday, along with a check to cover the cost of that infamous vintage wardrobe, John experienced a spectrum of emotions relating to Katy’s resignation. Exposed to his colorful and expansive vocabulary, alone in his office he asked her to reconsider without success.
Katy wasn’t a journalist. Katy was a writer. Oscar spotted it the first night they met. Her talents did not lay in obtaining, by any means available, a series of facts to be carefully constructed into simple sentences free from emotional or intellectual bias then applied to a formulaic structure to produce a news story. It was cold, calculating and constrictive. That wasn’t Katy.
It’s the stories from everyone in every walk of life that people instinctively use to effectively communicate. The incentive to tell a story often stems from an emotional compulsion. That emotional stimulus and subsequent journey weaves naturally into the story, giving a reader or listener context, understanding and an opportunity to learn. Emotion and story-telling was Katy.
She’d learned more in a fortnight with Oscar than she had in thirteen years of submerging herself in journalism. Striving to always report balanced facts had subverted her natural writer’s style. Even worse, she’d detached from her emotional self, seeing it as a burden to her trade. It would’ve been easy to revert to type and hide back in her old life. It would’ve been easy to say the fortnight was nothing more than a fling. However fleeting, love had changed Katy’s life forever.
Leaving home was always going to be traumatic as an only child. The distance was her parent’s
biggest concern and fear. Taking into account the time difference, communication and technology offered phone calls, video calls, emails, texts and social networking. The family separation was only physical. Katy was a grown woman with a hunger to explore.
A warm blast of air shot through, as the doors opened. It was him.
‘Oscar!’
Shocked at hearing his name in this country, trying to locate his caller was difficult. Katy made her way over from the reception sofa.
‘Katy. I can’t believe you’re here!’
‘Is it unexpected?’ she asked.
‘Completely.’
‘In a good way or a bad way?’
‘In a what are you thinking way.’
‘I think you need me.’
‘You think I need you?’ asked Oscar bemused.
‘Yes. I think you need me to remind you of something?’
‘You traveled to Egypt to remind me of something?’
‘I did, because I think you’re worth it.’
‘What did I forget, Katherine?’
‘You forget that if you meet someone you click with it would be a huge mistake to let pride or prior plans prevent you from following up on that someone, if they’re right for you.’
Freezing on the spot, his confident expression crumbled.
‘I wondered if I might ask a question,’ she asked gently.
‘I know you never wanted to lie to me,’ he croaked.
‘Right answer, wrong question.’
Pale, Oscar was unsteady on his feet.
‘Katy, why?’
‘Because it makes sense. It’s so simple. I can’t think why we forgot it. I knew you wouldn’t cause a scene here. The way things were left I accepted you might not acknowledge me, or that you might deliver a few cruel blows with your tongue to humiliate me in front of the hotel staff. I was going to be a brilliant journalist, but it’s not my calling. Although the investigative side did help tracking you down.
