by Amber Brock
* * *
Christmas Day went so slowly, Kitty was convinced the hands on the clock actually moved backward at some points. She and Hen had arranged to have dinner in the suite with Andre so that he wouldn’t have to spend the day alone. While they waited for him, they exchanged presents and sang along to Christmas music on the radio. But Kitty masked her distraction poorly.
“Tell me what’s going on,” Hen said, interrupting Nat King Cole’s version of “The Christmas Song.”
“Nothing,” Kitty said.
“I’d ask you if you’re missing your father, but you don’t seem gloomy. You seem agitated.”
Kitty sighed. If she was planning to tell the whole truth, she might as well practice now. “You know how I had a plan to get rid of Andre?”
“You’re not reconsidering, are you?” Hen’s voice was uncharacteristically shrill.
“No, no. If anything this trip has shown me how wrong for me he really is.”
“Then what’s going on?”
“The plan may have changed. Because I think I found someone who is right for me.”
Hen’s eyebrows shot up. “Max?”
“Max.”
Hen sat still for a moment, her mouth a tight line.
“I know what you think,” Kitty began, but Hen put a hand on Kitty’s knee.
“There are certainly obstacles. It’s not the easiest choice. But I think you should try to be with whoever makes you happy.” Hen leaned in. “Does he make you happy?”
Excitement bubbled up in Kitty’s chest. “He does. I don’t know what comes next. Maybe Papa can move him to the New York band, if he wants to move. I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him yet.”
“You better tell him soon,” Hen said with a laugh. “We’ll be leaving before you know it.”
“I was planning to talk to him tomorrow.”
“Well, I hope he has the good sense to see that he shouldn’t let you go.”
Kitty hugged Hen tightly. “And I hope you have the good sense to see that you deserve to be happy too.”
Hen pulled away, waving Kitty off. “Let’s not talk about that right now. Only pleasant things today. Come on, let’s pick up this wrapping paper. Andre will be up soon.”
* * *
When Kitty went down to the patio the following night, there was no need for pretense. Hen sent her off like a proud mother. Kitty arrived downstairs to find Max already waiting for her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, kissing him before he could speak.
“You’re certainly in a good mood tonight,” he said when she finally let him go. “I guess you got what you wanted for Christmas this year?”
“You could say that. And how was your day off?”
“Good. Sebastian and I went to Marcela’s. She had a huge dinner.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“It was.” He gestured to the chairs. “Do you want to sit down?”
“I want to stay just like this. Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She lifted her hand to his jaw. “You know how I said this all had to be secret? I don’t think I want it to be anymore.”
He hesitated. “So what would that mean?”
“I like you. Really like you. And I don’t want to leave Miami and have to forget about you.”
“I like you too,” he said in a low voice. “More than I thought I would.”
“I want to tell my father that I’m not going to be with Andre. Because…because I’m interested in someone else.”
“Are you sure? Do you really want to risk making your pop sore? We’ve only known each other a couple of weeks. And I like you. But I don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble.”
“Don’t worry about that. I know how to handle Papa. And I know you love Miami—I’m not asking you to leave or anything like that. But you could visit New York more often, don’t you think?”
“Yes. Yes!” He lifted her and spun her around, both of them laughing. When he set her back down, she kissed him again. Neither of them noticed at first that the office light had flooded the patio. Max turned his head, but Kitty brought her lips back to his.
“It’s the janitor,” she said, as he tried to turn again.
“No. It’s not.”
She turned to see. Instead of the janitor, she saw Andre staring back. Kitty leapt away from Max, only to immediately regret the move. Max’s eyes narrowed.
“What’s this all about?” he asked, his words measured and slow.
“No. Oh, Max, no.” A chill crept up her spine.
He took a step away from her. “You said…you told Hen you had a plan for ‘the Andre thing.’ You said it. Is that—is that what I was?” He lifted a hand to his head. “You picked this place out. You knew it was his office.”
Kitty drew in a few deep breaths, determined to get this right. A lie would easily solve her problem, but she couldn’t lie to him. Not after she had promised herself to do better. “Let me explain.”
“It’s true?”
“It’s—it’s not what you think.”
He barked out a bitter laugh. “I think that’s all the explanation I need. Why in the world would your pop ever agree to you dating me? Why would I believe that?”
“Listen to me. You’ve got it all wrong.”
He winced. “I can’t believe I thought you were better than that. I knew I had you right the first time. Stupid. So stupid.”
“Max—”
He tore through the line of trees and was gone. Her knees wobbled, and she stumbled to the wall to brace herself. She wished she had lied to him. He might have stayed if she had lied. But he wasn’t wrong. She had chosen that place for that exact purpose and had confirmed the worst of his beliefs about her. She had gotten what she wanted. Andre had spotted them. She couldn’t think, couldn’t silence the chatter in her mind. Back to the suite, she thought. Go back.
She raced around the side of the hotel and back into the lobby. Halfway to the elevator, Andre called to her. He jogged to catch up. His face didn’t show that he had seen a breakup. On the contrary, his eyes were wrinkled with amusement.
“You two couldn’t pick a better place to do that?” he asked.
“What were you doing in there?” The words rushed out of her.
“It’s my office. What I don’t get is why you were out there.”
Her lips went numb as she studied Andre’s cheerful expression. She felt like she’d swallowed lead. Andre could not have cared less that he caught her kissing Max.
She had been so sure. Andre had obviously wanted her to come to Miami. He’d taken time off work and come up with those ridiculous outings. There were the kisses on the cheek, the sly looks. But his expression could not be misread. His face betrayed no hint of jealousy. He didn’t like her, not in that way.
“I don’t know why I was out there,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Wait, what’s the matter?”
Her throat tightened. “I need to go to bed. I’m sorry. Good night.”
Andre’s cheerful demeanor evaporated into confusion, but he let her go. She wanted to crumple to the elevator floor, but she managed to stay upright. She had fallen in love for the first time in her life, and she had lost him to her own scheming. If only he would listen to her explanation. But as she heard the justification in her head, it sounded indefensible. He had been right to try to protect himself from her. She had set him up. Even if that wasn’t her intention that night, it was the plan all along.
By the time she stood in front of the door to the suite, her thoughts were a confused jumble. She had lost Max. Why had she let herself become convinced she wanted him in the first place? Kitty knew what she needed. What she deserved. Her flailing mind cast about until it landed on
the truth that had guided her for so long. She wouldn’t let her future be in jeopardy again.
Kitty entered the suite, relieved to find the living area empty. The crack under Hen’s door was dark. She hadn’t waited for Kitty. Good, Kitty thought. She didn’t want to answer any questions. She wasn’t even sure if she could. Her mind was such a mess, she was hardly aware of what she was doing until she had the phone in her hand.
“Hello?”
“Charles?”
“This is he. Kitty, is that you?”
When had she dialed Charles? Now she couldn’t hang up. “Yes. It’s me,” she managed to say.
“It’s awfully late. Is Hen all right?”
Kitty gaped at the phone. In her moment of desperation, she had called Charles, of all people. But of course she had. She could still save Hen and prove she wasn’t the horrible person Max thought she was. And Hen being free would open up Kitty’s own opportunities again. She could salvage her plan for her future. If she had to live with a broken heart, at least she could live well. Kitty straightened her back, preparing. The only surprise was how hard it was to force the lie out. “It’s all true, Charles. Everything. I had to tell you.”
“Do you know what time it is? What in the hell is going on?”
“You thought Hen was…seeing other men here in Miami. Didn’t you? You said as much to her on the phone.”
His voice hardened. “Yes, and she denied it.”
“I can’t let her deceive you anymore. You deserve to know the whole truth. Ever since she stepped off the plane, she’s been a different person. At first it seemed so innocent, but now? Well, you were right, and that’s all there is to it.” Kitty exhaled shakily. She couldn’t say any more terrible things about Hen.
“I want to talk to her.” His voice blared in Kitty’s ear. “Put her on the phone right now.”
“I can’t. She’s not here.”
He groaned. “I want to talk to her as soon as she gets in, do you hear me? Tie her to the chair and hold the phone to her ear if you have to.”
“I will. I promise you.”
“Thank you.” He paused. “I’m so glad I can trust you.”
Her throat stung as she said good-bye. She wrapped her arms around her waist, squeezing herself tightly. This is the right thing. You’re doing the right thing, she assured herself. This will all be over soon, and everyone will be happier. She ignored the nagging Except Max that followed.
She heard a rustle and looked up. The flame in her throat seared down to her chest when she saw Hen standing in the doorway. But Hen’s face was smooth and serene. When she spoke, her voice was level, but dangerously low.
“There is no possible way to defend what I just overheard,” Hen began. “But why don’t you try anyway?”
Kitty stared up at Hen. No words would come at first. Finally, she said, “I thought you were in bed.”
“Is that the best you can do? That you thought I wouldn’t hear you?” Hen asked. “I waited up for you, of course I did. I was just changing into my pajamas. I heard you say ‘Charles,’ though I have to admit, I never thought you’d be calling him to say that.”
“It was for you. To help you.”
“So many people tried to warn me over the years.” Hen blinked hard.
“I did,” Kitty said, a hopeful lilt in her voice. “I tried to warn you about him.”
“Not about him. About you. They saw what I guess I couldn’t see in you. But they were right.”
Kitty stood, reaching out for Hen’s arm, but Hen recoiled. “No, I did this for you. I swear,” Kitty said.
Hen tilted her head and looked at Kitty through misty eyes. “I saw you do it to other people. I knew who you were. I never thought you could do it to me.”
“No, just listen.” Kitty’s pulse throbbed in her temples. Unlike any explanation she could have offered Max, her reasoning here was justified. “He never deserved you. You wouldn’t ditch him, so I was helping—”
“Don’t pretend you were helping me. How does this help me? What I can’t figure out is how it helps you, but I’m sure there’s something cooked up in your head.” Hen’s cool demeanor broke as her face crumpled. “Now I’m heading back to a broken engagement and a furious mother. I’ll be a laughingstock. Never mind that if Charles starts spreading the word that I’m that kind of girl, no decent man is going to want anything to do with me.” She dropped her gaze to the floor. “I know you wanted me to end it with him, and I know he’s done some terrible things.” She looked back up at Kitty, her lower lip wobbling. “Why couldn’t you believe that I know what’s best for me?”
Kitty shook her head. “It was your mother, not you. You didn’t want to be with him—you said as much.”
“What I didn’t want was to start the husband hunt over again at twenty-five. I didn’t want to have a tainted reputation. I didn’t want my friend—” Hen’s voice cracked on the word. “I didn’t want you in charge of my life any more than I wanted my mother telling me what to do.”
Kitty’s eyes widened. She was nothing like Hen’s mother. Kitty wanted what was best for Hen. She had to make Hen see that. “Let’s sit down,” she said. “Let’s talk. If you’ll only listen, you’ll understand.”
“I heard everything I needed to a few minutes ago. I don’t want to hear any more from you.”
Hen turned and walked out. Kitty’s nails dug into her palms. Why wouldn’t Hen just listen? If she would hear Kitty out, she’d realize that the whole plan—well, most of it—was for her benefit. If Hen stopped to think for even a moment, she’d recognize that her life would be better without Charles, no matter what her mother might say. Was Hen’s only concern having a fiancé? Kitty could find her ten of those. Hen herself knew plenty of eligible bachelors who she seemed to feel were worth pursuing, since she was constantly trying to set Kitty up with them. So why did it have to be good-for-nothing Charles? A small whisper at the back of Kitty’s mind suggested that she really had made a mistake this time.
No. She was right. She had to be right. Hen couldn’t stay angry at Kitty. Eventually she would hear Kitty out, and everything would be all right.
But what if she doesn’t?
What if Hen is gone for good?
The touch of a cold, wet nose on her ankle interrupted her thoughts and alerted her to Loco’s presence. As she looked into the dog’s warm, brown eyes, she doubled over with sudden sobs that racked her body. Despite all her conviction that she was right in proceeding with the plan, she’d never felt so wrong in her life.
* * *
Kitty did not leave her room the next day except to take Loco out. She sprawled on the bed, not even bothering to change out of her dress. Doors in the suite opened and closed, and Kitty hoped Hen might poke her head in at some point, ready to talk. Or that Max might call. But Hen did not come in. The phone did not ring.
Loco’s whimpering roused Kitty again at sunset. She changed clothes, brushed her hair, and took the dog downstairs. Loco had, at least, provided her with some inspiration in her sleepless night. Kitty could avoid the flight with Andre and Hen and head back to New York by train, thanks to the fact that the dog couldn’t accompany her on the plane. There was no way she could ask for the dog to ride with the New York band members now. Once back in the suite, Kitty called her father to request a train ticket. She made up an excuse about not wanting to subject Loco to another long trip on the bus.
“What about Hen? Don’t you want some company?” her father asked.
“I think she needs to get back on time. Something her mother has planned.”
Her father agreed to arrange for the ticket. That meant she had to find some way to tell Hen about the change of plans, but there was no way Hen was going to speak to her. The last person Kitty wanted to discuss her current situation with was Andre, but he was the only choice. Compounding her embarrassment was
the fact that he’d actually been present for the debacle with Max. She consoled herself that she only had to deliver this one piece of information, and then she could go back to wallowing.
After hanging up with her father, she called Andre’s room.
“Sounds like you blew it with Hen,” he said.
Kitty was taken aback. “She told you?”
“She had to have lunch with someone. We made conversation. She didn’t tell me much, but she seems awful mad.”
“Well, she won’t have to worry about seeing me much longer. Papa is going to get me a train ticket. I have to get Loco back somehow, and I don’t want her riding on the bus again. Do you mind being Hen’s escort back to New York?”
“No, I don’t mind,” he said. “But does she know about this?”
“Will you please tell her? She sure doesn’t want to hear anything from me right now.”
“Okay.” He paused. “Sorry you’ll be on your own.”
“Thanks, Andre.” She hung up the phone. The words on your own echoed in her head. She worried she’d be on her own for much longer than a train trip.
Kitty had never been so relieved to leave Hen as she was when she walked out of the Imperium for the last time. They’d spent the time until Kitty’s departure avoiding one another in the silent suite. She could only assume Hen had continued dining with Andre, because he’d tried to rally Kitty into coming downstairs. He’d said something nonsensical about “patching things up,” which meant that Hen still hadn’t shared the details of their falling out. Since going to the club meant seeing both Max and Hen, she declined. Andre hadn’t offered again. Kitty had ordered room service.
The train ride took her through rolling hills and quaint towns all along the Eastern Seaboard. Loco kept Kitty company as she flipped through magazines she wasn’t really reading or stared out the window at views she wasn’t seeing. Mostly she occupied herself replaying the final days in Miami over and over again. How had her perfect plan gone so wrong? She was near Virginia when the answer surfaced: Max. If he hadn’t come along, everything would have worked out. Everything had always worked out before he entered the picture. He’d turned her head around, clouded her judgment. She’d thought he respected her, admired her mind. If he really had, he would never have convinced her to question things she knew to be true.
