I mumble an incoherent reply. The next thing I know, she’s guiding me backward into a chair.
“Here.” she places a small medicine cup in my left palm. “Take this. It’ll help.”
“Thanks.” I smile feebly and down it, using small sips of water as a chaser.
“You’re welcome.” Catie drags another chair over and I glance at the opposite side of the deck, where one of the crewmen mops up my mess. A few passengers look on, most have pushed their plates away. I can’t imagine they have much of an appetite now.
“So, hell of a second date, huh?” I try for a smirk, but it feels like a grimace.
“Second?”
“The distillery doesn’t count. I tricked you, remember?” I quirk my eyebrow and set my water cup down on the deck.
She smiles. “True. But what about boxing?”
“I kinda blew that one up, didn’t I?”
Catie laughs and shoves my shoulder. “At the end. It still counts.”
I grin. “Fine, third date then.”
Catie sticks out her tongue. “I win.”
“Still.” I scoff. “Seems like I’m turning into a pretty shitty partner.”
“You are not,” Catie retorts, narrowing her gaze before turning up her palms. “Besides, if anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. I didn’t mean for this little surprise to make you nauseous. I thought you only get seasick on big boats.”
I groan and rest my chin in my palm which is balanced on my left thigh. “Yeah, I thought so too.”
“At least the crew had Emetrol. Is it helping at all?”
Well, my stomach doesn’t feel like it’s being mugged, so, “A little.”
Catie’s features relax. “I’m glad.”
“Ditto,” I say, taking another sip from my glass. “But from now on? I pick the surprises, yeah? Or next thing I know you’ll be trying to poison me with some exotic spiky fruit.”
Catie giggles. “Deal. And I’d never try to poison you.”
I smirk. “Ooh, so Catie Klarken does have a dark side. Are you telling me I’ve been friends with a modern-day Lizzie Borden this whole time?”
“Shut up!”
I shrug. “You started it.”
“Jeez. If you like arguing this much, maybe you should go to law school,” Catie shoots back with a playful eye roll.
“Oh, ha, ha. Very funny.”
We sit in comfortable silence for the remainder of the short trip around the harbor. At some point, Catie moves her chair next to mine and leans her head on my shoulder. In return, I scoot over until our hips touch and wrap my arm around her. We doze off, because the next thing I hear is:
“And that concludes this morning’s Harbor Sail, ladies and gentlemen. I hope you had a wonderful time and enjoy the rest of your day.”
I smile down at Catie’s sleeping frame. Her arm has snaked around my waist and a single strand of blond hair swings in and out of her face as she snores softly against my shoulder, lips puckered as she blows out tiny puffs of air. I brush her bangs from her forehead before leaning in and resting my lips there in a soft kiss.
“Mm.” She stirs, attempting to nuzzle deeper into my side. “Five more minutes.”
“Sorry, firefly,” I whisper, gently unwinding my arm from around her back. “Time to get up.”
“Hmm, Lyn?” She blinks and does a cat stretch against the back of the chair.
I grin a little wider. “Morning, sleepyhead. Did you have a nice nap?” I lean forward and stretch my arms out in an effort to crack my back. When I sit back up, Catie’s cheeks are pink as she glances around at the sea of passengers grabbing their things.
“Oh no. Is the cruise over already?”
“Yep.” Holding out a hand, I help her to her feet as the boat coasts into the dock. She takes note of my wrinkled clothes and frowns.
“God, I hope I didn’t drool all over your work clothes.”
I dip my chin down to inspect the shoulders, moving my hair over the tiny wet spot on my right side. “Nope.” I motion for her to look for herself. “Drool free.”
Catie giggles. “Good.” Her hand drops to her side as we meander after the crowd, and sparks tingle up my arm when our fingers interlock.
“Thanks for taking me out today.” I nudge her shoulder.
“You’re welcome. Though, I am sorry you got sick.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I wave my free hand, dismissing the thought. “I didn’t know that would happen. How could you?”
Catie hums. “Let me at least buy you a bagel or something on the way to the theater. You need to keep your strength up if you’re going to endure Helmsworth’s wrath all day.”
“So do you,” I point out.
“Yes, but I got to eat. You didn’t.”
I chuckle. “Fair enough. But I’m paying.”
Catie scoffs as we disembark. “Fat chance.”
“You paid for a cruise!”
“And you paid for the distillery,” she counters. “It’s still my turn.”
“Fine,” I grumble, my lower lip jutting out as I cross my arms. “Maybe you should be the one going all Elle Woods. I may like to argue, but you always win.”
“Law school?” Catie scrunches her nose and mimes gagging. “Ugh, no.”
I laugh and bump her shoulder, but before I come up with a retort, her phone rings from her back pocket. She pulls out her cell and her face turns ashen.
“Catie.” I place a hand on her shoulder. “Is everything okay?”
Catie swallows and her eyes dart around the sidewalk as we make our way toward my car. She coughs and scratches her neck. “Well, it’s complicated.”
I frown when her eyes remain on the phone. “Complicated how?”
Catie bites her lip and clears her throat, but says nothing, accepting the call and walking ahead instead. My scowl deepens. That’s the second time a phone call has gotten her out of a tough conversation.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” I rest my head against the condensation-coated bus window. I can’t believe I forgot about brunch.
The bus breaks creak to a halt and I vault from my seat, elbowing my way through the crowd of disgruntled early-morning passengers and bursting through the doors of the Whichataw Country Club. The receptionist startles, her chair rolling back and pen clattering to the desk as she glances up through a mess of black curls. I blush and wave. Her open mouthed expression softens and the lines around her bright green eyes crinkle.
“Oh, Ms. Klarken, it’s you.”
“Hi, Jenny,” I pant, giving her a wane smile and running my fingers through my hair. It feels like I’ve been rubbing a balloon all over my scalp. “I know, I know, I’m late.”
“The banquet is down that way.” She points to an expansive hall lined with marble columns. “Second door to the left. The Thomases are expecting you.”
I’ll bet they are. I close my eyes and take a deep breath before forcing a toothy smile and nodding. “Thanks.” Rolling my shoulders back, I channel Gina Helmsworth and strut toward the double doors. The click of my heels ricochets off the tile and echoes through the empty foyer. I wince.
I hate these fancy charity functions. Grayson’s parents always insist on hosting them here, and the lavishness never fails to leave me feeling like little orphan Annie the first time she stepped foot in the mansion. Except, instead of kind servants greeting me, the room is filled with faceless strangers and uptight attitudes. I’m a piece of gum beneath their feet, yet I’m expected to behave like Princess Kate because I’m on the arm of the richest person in the room. Third richest, if you count his parents, which makes the hatred radiating off of the welcome guests much more potent. I only agreed to come because I haven’t seen Lyssa in ages.
I stare at the gold-trimmed double doors, smoothing down my outfit, glossing my lips with a fresh tube of ChapStick, and stalling for as long as possible. When I can’t avoid it any longer, I wrap my shaking hand around the door handle.
Keeping my back agai
nst the wall as muffled chatter floats out, I step over the threshold. The temperature drops ten degrees as utensils settle on their plates and every pair of eyes trains on me.
Get a grip. Stop being so dramatic.
Okay, so the whole room isn’t gaping at me like goldfish, but the closest five tables definitely are. Heat rushes to my cheeks and a force pulls me toward the Thomas’s in the center of the room.
Grayson’s features are awash. With relief I’ve made it, or shock I came, I don’t know. Henry gives a small nod and sympathetic smile, the lines around his eyes creasing. Lyssa, seated next to him, grins and waves at me. I relax into my first genuine smile since Grayson’s phone call. “Hi, baby girl,” I mouth. Maybe this won’t be so bad. Then my gaze cuts to Evelyn.
Her green eyes are set in a glare so cold I wonder if she’s been replaced with the Snow Queen. Her lips twist in a scowl, and the hand under Henry’s clenches.
I swallow, though the air hitches in my throat, and offer a meek wave.
“Um.” A pause. “Sorry I’m late.”
Evelyn and Grayson push their chairs out at the same time, but one syrupy-sweet smile from his mother and Grayson stays put while she weaves her way through the tables.
“Catie, darling, there you are.” Her nails dig into the flesh of my bicep. “So nice of you to finally join us.”
I force a smile. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Of course not.” Evelyn pats my hand as if placating a child, leading me back to the table and guiding me into the seat next to Grayson.
“Hey,” he whispers. “I didn’t think you’d make it.”
“Not like I had a choice,” I grumble.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Grayson hisses as a waiter comes over to either take my order a la carte or inform me of the morning’s buffet.
I ignore him, opting for the fresh cut oats topped with fruit and another cup of coffee. My stomach growls as the server scribbles on his notepad and takes my menu. I flush a little and rest my hand on my abdomen. Maybe I am hungrier than I thought. After all, I’d only taken a few bites before Addie’s seasickness got the best of her. Oh, God. Addie.
Slipping my phone out of my pocket, I tap the screen. 9:07 a.m. Crap. My fingers curl around the device and I clench my jaw. Helmsworth is going to give her an earful when she finds out Addie doesn’t know where I am.
“Catherine?”
“What?” My head shoots up and I tuck the phone under my thigh. Damn her. If Evelyn wasn’t such a sadistic witch trying to brainwash my kid, I wouldn’t have had to go all Cheshire Cat on our date. Not to mention abandon Addie in the face of Helmsworth’s wrath. At least I know she can hold her own.
“Are you with us?” Evelyn’s brow raises and her lips purse.
“Yes,” I hiss out between gnashed teeth. “But I figured you’d be gracious enough to let me taste my meal before asking me anything of importance.”
Evelyn’s glare intensifies, and I swallow against the smirk drawing my mouth upward. The comeback earns me a look laced with more ice than Antarctica. Henry cuts his conversation with Lyssa about the upcoming New York trip short and gives his wife a gentle pat on the hand.
“Evelyn, sweetheart, now that everyone’s arrived, isn’t it time to thank the sponsors?”
She blinks, her features morphing into the façade of a gracious hostess. “Yes, of course. Thank you dear.” She stands up and clinks her fork against the glass. The waiter returns and sets my steaming oatmeal before me. I inhale and take a few small, satisfying bites.
Once every eye in the room is on her, Evelyn begins an epic monologue about the various ways in which all the patrons have helped the Thomas Family Foundation over the years.
Every muscle in my body relaxes the longer she drones on. I shoot a grateful look at Henry, who winks and offers a small smile. I return it and shake my head. How such a sweet, kindhearted man ever ended up married to a woman as cold and calculating as Evelyn Thomas is beyond me.
When he turns back to Lyssa, he laughs at her show of swiping the last piece of bacon from his plate.
“What?” she asks, taking a big bite out of the pork. “Oops, did you want this?”
I crinkle my nose as Evelyn stops talking to toss a syrupy-sweet smile in her direction as Henry laughs, tweaks her nose, and hands over his last piece. “Nope, I’m full.”
My daughter grins crams the whole thing in her mouth. “Thanmks, Gfandfa,” she mumbles.
“Lyssa!” I vault up from my chair to perform the Heimlich, but my daughter bites, chews, swallows, and gives me a wide, giddy smile, holding out the rest of her other piece.
“Want some?”
My features scrunch and I shove it away. “Ugh, no thank you!” No matter what, I will not eat those strips of glorified greasy pig fat.
Lyssa giggles and tears off another piece between her teeth. “Your loss.”
“I blame her carnivorous behavior on you.” I jab Grayson’s bicep and give him a stink eye. He shrugs and takes a bite of his own bacon.
“What can I say, Cate?” He chews and swallows before flashing a cheeky grin. “Pig is delicious.”
The speeches drone on for another thirty minutes. My eyes dart to the display on my phone, which is peeking out from beneath my leg. My shoe taps against the floor so many times I’m sure I’ve drilled a hole through to the basement before a sharp jab in the ribs forces it to cease.
“Catie,” Grayson whispers from the side of his mouth. “Stop squirming! You’re worse than Lyssa!” He gives a raspy laugh as I shove his shoulder.
“I’m not!” I hiss back. I glance at the time again. 10:17 a.m. Yep. Helmsworth is going to roast me. “I’m late.” My voice drops, taking on a harsh edge.
Why am I here? It’s not like Lyssa and I can actually talk with all of these piranhas staring. Plus, I’m pretty sure Helmsworth won’t consider, “I’m late ’cause I had to kiss up to my ex’s nightmarish mother,” reason enough not to fire me.
I should’ve stayed with Addie.
Then I wouldn’t have to keep lying. And at least we’d be getting chewed out together.
When did I become such a selfish idiot?
Grayson taps my shoulder and his brows crease when I turn and growl out, “What?” under my breath.
He sits back as he holds up a hand. “Nothing.” His gray eyes search mine. “Are you okay? What are you late for?”
Ugh. Seriously? I roll my eyes and scowl at him. “Think, Gray. Why would I have taken a bus from the theater district at eight fifteen in the morning?”
His sucks in his breath. “You’re missing rehearsal?”
I nod. Duh, genius.
“Why didn’t you say anything on the phone?” he whispers hotly.
My fingers fist around the napkin resting in my lap. I open my mouth, but the speeches have stopped and the speakers are returning to their tables.
Grayson pushes his chair back and looks at his father. “We’ll be back.”
Henry nods and Grayson grabs my wrist, leading me out of the banquet hall and toward the lobby.
“What the hell, Catherine?” he demands when we’re alone in the sitting area. “Why would you ditch rehearsal for some stupid charity thing? Helmsworth is going to kill you!”
I huff, crossing my arms. “You didn’t give me a choice, Grayson! Evelyn has barely let me within five feet of Lyssa since she moved in with you guys! What was I supposed to do?”
Grayson groans and runs a hand down his face. “You said you were out, Catie. That wasn’t a suitable excuse.”
“Says who?” I spit. “You, or your Trunchbull of a mother?”
“Hey,” he snaps. “Don’t call her that!”
“Why not? It’s true. If she hadn’t insisted we come to this stupid thing for her precious image—”
“Well maybe if you hadn’t been shirking your responsibilities and shown up on time, you could’ve left already and we wouldn’t be having this argument!”
“I wasn’t
shirking anything, Grayson, I was—”
“Oh no?” He cuts me off. “Then who were you out with?”
I flush and duck my head, the fight draining out of me as I twine my hands together.
Dang it. The universe couldn’t give me twenty-four hours to figure out how to tell him. Of course not. “Iwas out with Addie.”
“What?”
I look up. His expression has softened.
“She forgave you?” he asks, giving me a lopsided, tired grin.
I smile back shyly and let my hair swing forward in front of my face before brushing it back. “Yeah,” I say with a shrug. “We’re kinda dating now.”
His grin turns genuine. “That’s great, Catie.” He pulls me into a side hug. “I’m happy for you.”
“Really?” I retort with a laugh. “’Cause a minute ago, I thought you were gonna go all Chef Louie and chop my head off with a cleaver.”
Grayson rubs a hand along the back of his neck. “Sorry.” He smiles sheepishly. “It’s, my mom—”
“Can be demanding, I know.”
“Mm.” We settle into a semi-awkward silence before I step forward, standing on the balls of my feet to place a hand on his shoulder. His eyes meet mine and I sigh.
“Gray, listen, I know you’re doing everything you can to help me, but this isn’t working. Your parents don’t like me. They never have and—”
“Not true,” he protests. “Henry likes you.”
I nod.
“And they let you move in when you recovered. That has to count for something, right?”
I give him a sad smile. “And I’ll always be grateful, really. But going to these functions? It didn’t help me win their favor back then and it’s not helping me talk to my daughter now.”
“So you shouldn’t try?”
I close my eyes. Great. The last thing I need is him on the defensive. “Grayson, I have tried—”
“And you should keep trying,” he implores, grabbing my hands. “Listen, Catie, I know my parents aren’t your favorite people. Frankly, I’m not so fond of them right now. But getting on their good side is going to do nothing but good if you want a relationship with Lyssa.”
Duet Rubato Page 13
