A Billion Reasons Why

Home > Other > A Billion Reasons Why > Page 5
A Billion Reasons Why Page 5

by Kristin Billerbeck


  Luc’s lip lifted to one side. “Sam Spade? Film noir? Citizen Kane? You’re not a fan?”

  Dex’s face filled with mirth and he shook his head. “She made me watch Casablanca and The Philadelphia Story. Does that count?”

  “Made you? She made you watch some of the greatest films ever made? Dexter, Katie is introducing you to the sweet life. Would you squander such a gift?” Luc’s blue eyes fell on Katie. “When the men were men and the dames were dames.”

  “Dames?” Dexter leaned over the pass-through. “I was raised by a single mother. She would have killed me if I used that word. I prefer science fiction. Fantasy. We’re different, Katie and me. That’s what makes us so great together, right?”

  He looked to her for confirmation, and she felt shame that he’d used the word prefer. Why on earth did it bother her?

  “Right. We have an agreement,” she explained. “I watch nothing to do with a hobbit, Vulcan, or comic book hero, and in return, Dexter’s not forced to sit through a foreign romance, a BBC production, or one of my classic films.” She blew a kiss to her fiancé.

  “So what do you two have in common, exactly? What do you do together? It’s all well and good to have your guy time, right, Dex? But then what?”

  Luc plunked his fedora, which he’d removed during dinner, back on his head. Katie wondered if he was trying to send Dexter some kind of underlying message. People assumed Luc wore the hats as part of his eccentric rich bachelor image, but he’d worn them in college, where he was viewed less as an eccentric and more as a weirdo. Like Katie, Luc held an affinity for a simpler time when people’s roles weren’t as complicated. When swing dancing and big band music ruled the airwaves, and communication didn’t include fourteen types of technology, but a simple conversation over coffee and a beignet. Of course, Luc also felt the freedom to heave her over his shoulder like he was working the docks, so maybe she had romanticized prior roles too much.

  “You want to try that dress on, don’t you, Katie?” Dexter asked her.

  Katie nodded so quickly she created her own weather pattern.

  Dexter addressed Luc. “That we both want to see her in that gorgeous dress—that’s what we have in common. Go put it on, sweetheart. I’m curious what you’ll look like as a bird.”

  Her face burned hot, but she snagged the dress from Luc and scampered down the hallway to her room. She began to belt out “At Last” with enough emotion that it might put Etta James to shame, and she heard Luc laugh from the kitchen. No doubt neither Eileen nor Dex recognized the tune.

  Did Eileen really think she should refuse the gown? The thought had never crossed Katie’s mind. She hated to admit how her heart leapt when Luc brought up the idea of clunky heels. She clutched the gown as though thieves were lined up along her hallway and snuggled the downy mass of feathers to her heart. They felt like angels’ wings against her skin.

  Once in her bedroom, she kicked off her Keds and held the gown in front of her reflection. She’d considered having the gown made for her own wedding but nixed the idea rather than explain to Dexter a sudden feather fetish. She exhaled a small whimper. “Oh my goodness, oh my goodness.”

  Katie had left her great love for period dresses back in New Orleans with her collection, which she’d sold to another struggling student trying to make her way through college the same way. She’d forgotten how the feelings sparked endorphins as though she’d run for miles.

  She tossed the dress onto her bed and pulled the door shut. She shimmied out of her jeans and hoodie and kicked them into the corner, where another explosion of dust bunnies erupted.

  She fluffed the feathers outward and stepped into the dress. She secured the shoulders, the fit of which was like a cape. She twisted and turned in the mirror and covered her face, peeked through her stretched fingers, then dropped her arms. “At laaaast,” she crooned, “my love has come along . . .”

  Too paralyzed to zip herself up, she stood mesmerized by her own reflection—she looked like Ginger herself. How she longed to be able to have such beauty when she performed. Back in the day, she’d been reliant upon what the secondhand stores offered.

  Someone rapped on the door, and she wiped her eyes and opened it.

  “I figured you might need me to zip you up,” Eileen said as she moved gazelle-like into the room. She stopped mid-stride. “Oh, Katie.” The two friends stared at one another. “You have never looked more like . . . well, like you.”

  Katie crumbled into her hands and felt Eileen zip her up.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I miss it. I miss the Barrelhouse Club, I miss singing an old song with passion. Not that I don’t like singing in church, I do, but this is what I did out in the world. This is how I connected with barflies and street people and told them about Jesus. They thought I was a star, like their fairy godmother. It’s not the same here.”

  “Don’t let this dress cloud your memory. You always wanted to be a teacher. Besides, you need to hurry. Luc is trying to talk sports to Dex out there.”

  “I still want to teach, Eileen. Nothing makes me prouder than watching the kids hit some milestone. That’s not what I mean. It’s just that I feel closer to God when I’m singing to the ‘least of these.’ Does that make any sense?”

  Eileen stepped forward and patted her wrist. “Katie, I’m only worried you’re muddling all these feelings. If you wanted Luc DeForges, you know I’d support you. Much as I might want to vomit in my own shoes, I’d support you. But if you want to sing and swing dance, you can easily find a club in San Francisco. You don’t have to give up your dreams because you’re getting married. Dexter wouldn’t want you to sacrifice yourself for him.”

  Katie crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed the feathered cape.

  “You’ve got two guys out there. One has already broken your heart and disappeared off the radar screen. The other one wants the same things you do: a family, a ministry together, a future. I know your nana’s ring means a lot to you, but is it worth losing that guy out there who wants to marry you?”

  “Of course not, but this won’t cost me Dex. We’ve agreed that I’ll get the ring and he’ll ask me to marry him in some surprising and elegant way and present it to me.”

  “I don’t want it to come to blows here. And it will, Katie. You mark my words, it will come to blows. Maybe not in a physical way, but Luc owns you in his own way. You’re the hydrant, he’s the dog.”

  “Ewww! You can’t come up with a better analogy than that?”

  “You’re wearing his collar. You have Luc’s license around your neck. This dress is his license.”

  Katie slumped. Everything seemed so simple until she stared at her reflection. Even Eileen had said that Katie looked like herself. Had she abandoned a part of herself for security? “But I love Dexter!” she said out loud.

  “Katie?” Luc stuck his head around the doorframe. His Adam’s apple plummeted and rose, but he said nothing.

  Dexter appeared beside Luc. He crossed his arms like a genie and placed a forefinger to his jaw. “Hmm. I’m not sure what I think.”

  “It’s better with movement.” Luc stepped forward and opened his palm to her. “May I?” he asked Dexter.

  “Be my guest. I wouldn’t know what to do with her dressed like that.” Dex laughed.

  Katie took Luc’s proffered elbow. He circled his arm around her waist and with the other hand pulled her into him with a spin. Then he pushed her away, and she twirled until she came to the end of his long reach. Luc circled her back and began to sing, “Heaven, I’m in heaven . . .”

  Her head fell back, and they began to dance cheek to cheek. The roughness of his evening shadow felt natural against her complexion, and she drank in the familiar scent of him. He dipped her and left her with her back arched and dependant on his arm.

  Dexter stood in the doorway. “So that’s swing?”

  His question broke her dream state, and she pulled her gaze from Luc’s. He lifted her to an upright positio
n. She shook her head and untangled herself from Luc’s embrace. “That was a waltz,” she told Dexter. “Let me teach you.” She held her arms up toward his shoulders.

  “No, no. Not me. I’m enjoying watching you. I can’t see how beautiful you look if I’m right beside you.”

  “But we’ll dance a waltz at our wedding. Come here.” She motioned with her forefinger.

  “This is swing.” Luc took her back and twisted her into a sweetheart, showing Dex the basic steps as if to say how easy it was, then tossing her feet into the air as though she was nothing more than a mop. He lifted her at the waist. “Sidecar!” Luc shouted, and he placed his hands on her hips.

  Katie stopped. “I don’t think I—” She clasped her hands around Luc’s neck and kicked her legs up into an L. She went to one side, then back down again, and he flipped her to the other side, where she lifted up into an L again. Katie squealed with delight in the momentum, and she came back down hard. “I don’t think I move that way anymore.”

  “We’re pathetic!” Luc threw his head back. “That is not how you do it, Dex.” He twirled her into a basic dip and kept her off her balance. “We have to finish strong.”

  She pulled herself upright using Luc’s neck to straighten up.

  “I’ll leave the dancing to you two,” Dexter said.

  She held out her hand, “Come on, Dexter. It’s fun, I’ll show you.”

  “I’d better get going,” Luc said. “Katie, the gown fits you like a glove. Maybe I should have planned an extra day for us to practice though.” He laughed. “Dexter, pleasure to meet you.”

  Luc shook Dexter’s hand and exited the room so quickly, one would think she’d asked for his hand in marriage. Again.

  She searched for breath and finally inhaled a gasping current of air. “Won’t you at least try? For me, Dexter?”

  “You’re a good dancer, sweetheart.” Dexter pecked her forehead like an old uncle. “But I’m afraid I hung up my dancing shoes at the high school prom.”

  She tried to kiss him back, more romantically, but his lips were hard and pursed. The movement came off as cold and wooden, with as much passion as a woodpecker has for the tree it’s headbutting. She glanced over at Eileen, who had the decency to look away so as not to remind her she was no Scarlett O’Hara. Katie wasn’t the sort to incite that kind of passion in men, and one of the finest things she could do with life was to embrace what she was—not pine after things that would never be. It was why she and Dexter were getting married, she reminded herself. He loved her for who she was now, not for some false image she used to inhabit.

  “So will you learn one swing dance for our wedding?” she asked him.

  “Oh no. We’ll have to invite Luc or maybe this brother of his. Ryan, you say? He can dance with you, and the two of you can entertain the crowd. My engineers at work will love it, but if I did it, I’d never hear the end of it.”

  “At our wedding? You want Luc to dance with me at our wedding?”

  “Well, I don’t want him to dance with you, but if you want to dance like that, I’m afraid I have no choice.” He pecked her cheek again. “Katherine, go home and get the ring. Don’t overthink this. Our wedding will be perfect.”

  “Do you like the gown? You never really said.”

  “It’s a bit much for my taste. Drowns out your beauty. You don’t need a dress to capture people’s attention, you do that all by your lonesome.”

  She frowned.

  “But it’s beautiful on you. You’d make a paper sack look good.” He pressed another chaste kiss to her forehead.

  “Would you stop that? I’m not your niece!”

  “What?”

  “And I detest the name Katherine!”

  “I think you need to eat a little more tonight. You’re grumpy. Eileen”—Dexter saluted with two fingers—“excellent dinner, thank you so much for including me. Katie, I left the suitcase in the living room. Do you want me to bring it in here?”

  “Yes, please.” She sidled up next to Dexter and laid her head on his shoulder. “Does it bother you that Luc is taking me home? You know, in his private plane?”

  “If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t be marrying you.”

  “So it doesn’t bother you that Luc-my-old-boyfriend happens to be the billionaire, I mean, multimillionaire Luc DeForges?”

  “You never cared for money. If you did, you wouldn’t be spending all this effort on a ring that can’t be financially worth the travel. As for having his own jet, I suppose that’s just a solid business expenditure for a man who travels as much as he does. I’ve got to go check on my mother tonight, so I have to run. Call me tomorrow.” He stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

  “You were hoping to get blood out of a turnip?”

  “Cut it out, Eileen. Is there anyone who would meet your standards for me?”

  “After tonight? Pretty much anything male who isn’t Dex or Luc. You need a man with a whole name, for one thing.” She exhaled. “Dex cares, he’s just not good at expressing himself. I assume that’s why you carry around that ridiculous scrapbook.”

  “My father would have been happy I’d found a good man who will care for me and our children!”

  Eileen stayed calm but didn’t change her tactics. “You don’t have to go home for the ring. Stay here and let Dex buy you one. He may not have seen anything in that dance of yours, but trust me, I felt the electricity. If you were in one of my yoga classes, I’d make you leave for the force field of electromagnetic energy you brought with you.”

  Katie had to go to New Orleans. It was her last chance to find out why Luc had tossed her from his life like a banana peel off the back of her father’s pickup. Love was a decision. A choice. All the leading experts said so, and she’d decided she would love Dexter in a way that honored and respected him. The way she’d loved Luc left her worn out and depleted, like an empty air mattress. Then what use was she? She’d get her ring and closure as well. Then nothing would stand in the way of her life with Dexter.

  Chapter 5

  FLY ME TO THE MOON

  Luc watched intently from the window as Katie approached his plane. He’d wanted to share this part of his life with her for so long, but he treaded carefully. She believed, in some ill-conceived way, that he’d made all his money on the back of her father’s failure. It wasn’t true, but what was it they said about perception being reality? In regard to Katie, her truth was all that mattered, and he had a big PR fight on his hands where she was concerned. He thumbed through the rag that ran their picture together and smiled to himself. How he’d missed her, that fiery soul that hid behind her schoolmarm exterior. She may have forgotten how God used her passion, but he hadn’t. The real Katie was hidden under that bushel of someone else’s idea of godliness. He needed to find the kindest, gentlest way to tell her the truth before she married that fellow without a pulse. He only hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Katie’s magnificent eyes drank everything in as she climbed the steps. She slid her hand along the doorframe, as if to appreciate the small details. In many ways she was still like a child, filled with wonder at every new discovery. Luc had made the mistake once of believing Katie’s affection for daily living was mere immaturity. Only now did he understand, in his own aloof treatment of the world, that he’d forgotten how to show gratitude. After watching her with Dexter, Luc blamed himself for the practical, lifeless future she’d arranged for herself.

  As luxurious as his private plane may have been, the interior came to life as Katie stepped inside of its hull. It was now as it should have been, his surrounding world in color. She made it matter.

  He drank her in; her long, luscious legs in a smart white pencil skirt and red polka dot silk blouse. Her shapely legs were highlighted by a pair of sky-high white stilettos, a far cry from the sloppy tennis shoes captured in the tabloid photos. “You wore those to travel?”

  He could have smacked himself for the comment the moment it came out his mouth. What he r
eally thought was that he had never seen anything more beautiful than this woman, that he felt honored she would bother to look nice for the trip, and that her effort did not go unnoticed. But it was too late now. It was as if his mouth had separated from his brain and gone completely offtrack.

  “I couldn’t fit them in my suitcase, and I didn’t want to leave them home. They go with the gown. I figure if Ginger could bloody several pairs of shoes for that dance scene, I could fulfill my obligation for one night. Besides, they’re for my wedding, and I need to practice in them. Do you like them?” She twisted, and her tender calf muscle swelled toward him.

  He choked out a cough. “Your wedding? I thought you weren’t even engaged yet.”

  “Not all of us are billionaires. Some of us have to plan ahead. Aren’t they cute with the little Mary Jane bow? Very retro, don’t you think?”

  “That’s right. Not all of us are billionaires. Not even me.”

  She grinned at his correction. Katie was determined to call him a billionaire. The more he objected, the more pleasure she seemed to take in the label.

  “I’m parched.” He rubbed his hand across his mouth. “Do you want some water?”

  She dismissed his attempt to change the subject. “This way, I’ll have them worn in before my wedding and I’ll be able to dance blissfully all night, without blisters.” Katie twisted her legs a bit more, again illuminating the taut muscles in her calves.

  Luc licked his lips, rubbed his chin, and averted his eyes. How does she do that? She made him feel as weak as a kitten, and he clenched his fists to combat the emotions. He took the garment bag from her arm. “This is the dress, I assume?”

  “That’s it. I didn’t want to put it in cargo. Just in case something leaks.”

  “Wise move, but we’d better hope nothing leaks.” He laughed. “I’ll just hang it back here in the closet. Let me give you a tour.” He took her handbag, a slouchy, macramé-looking thing that reminded him of a sea grass chair his momma used to sit in on warm afternoons. Katie made no move to follow him, so he slung the garment bag over his shoulder and studied her fluttery movements. “Are you afraid to fly in a small plane?”

 

‹ Prev