Going on Red

by Lyn Gardner

  “Which brings me back to what I said a minute ago,” Gina said with a soft smile. “You aren’t putting your head in the sand, Kate. You aren’t pretending it didn’t happen like your mum did. You’ve acknowledged it. You know it was wrong, and you’re going to seek help for it, which makes you nothing like your mother, Kate. Nothing.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Trust me. I am.” Gina finished what was left of her lager, and putting the bottle aside, she stared at the floor.

  “What’s wrong?” Kate said, noticing a look of sadness cross Gina’s face.

  When Gina raised her eyes, they were moist with tears. “Devon told me you knew she was gay before she actually told you, and that cut me to the core, Kate. You knew how I felt about her, yet you kept it a secret from me. Why? Why hurt your best friend like that?”

  “Because it wasn’t my secret to tell,” Kate said, reaching over to take Gina’s hand. “And yeah, I knew how you felt about her. You could never hide it no matter how hard you tried, and I knew Devon liked you, but how was I supposed to know she liked you that way. I didn’t want to get your hopes up only to find out I was wrong. It was the lesser of two evils, Gina, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

  Gina mulled over Kate’s apology for only a second. “You’re forgiven.”

  “That was quick.”

  “It just means she and I have a lot of making up to do,” Gina said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “TMI, Gina,” Kate said, raising her hands. “TMI.”

  Gina chuckled. “So…what are you going to do about Brodie?”

  “I have absolutely no bloody idea,” Kate said, flopping back in the chair. “She made it very clear the last time I saw her, she didn’t want to see me again, and I really can’t blame her. Where Brodie’s concerned, I’ve changed my mind almost as much as I change my knickers.”

  “You plan on changing your mind again?”

  “No. I’m done with that. I know what I want…and who I want.”

  “Well, then it sounds like you better come up with something good.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Brodie hung up the phone and rocking back in her chair, she clasped her hands behind her head. In less than three weeks, she’d received six calls from people who’d seen the Hirshfeld’s addition, and an email from Dori that morning told Brodie to expect even more attention soon. Home Digest, an interior decorating magazine, would be running an article about the Hirshfeld’s new addition in an upcoming issue, and Dori had made it clear she intended to sing Brodie’s praises.

  After taking a few minutes to celebrate in silence, Brodie reached for her calendar to jot down the appointment a split-second before Stevie sauntered into the room.

  “Scrumptious, I really wish you’d let me do that,” Stevie said, nearing the desk. “It is my job, after all.”

  Brodie looked up, her eyes sparkling at the sight of her admin assistant. He was wearing skin-tight mandarin orange trousers with an equally-as-tight mandarin orange shirt. If the man’s hair were green instead of light brown, Stevie could have passed for a carrot.

  “Yes, but it’s my planner,” Brodie said, pushing the calendar aside.

  “Of that, we agree,” Stevie said with a bob of his head. “But it seems your pretty little noggin has forgotten something.”

  “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

  “You never remember to put them into the computer, so I end up scheduling appointments in slots that you’ve already slotted.”

  Brodie couldn’t argue the point. Just last week, she had done it twice, and to appease one of her new clients, Stevie ended up buying them a lavish lunch to express the company’s apologies for the mix-up. “Be my guest,” she said, pushing the planner in his direction.

  “Thank the Lord,” Stevie said, snatching up the calendar. “And since you’ve been a good girl, I’ll give you this.”

  Brodie cautiously took the small white paper bag from Stevie. “You bought me pastries?”

  “No, they were just delivered.”

  “Delivered?”

  “Yes, along with this,” Stevie said, handing Brodie an envelope. “Having a fling with the neighborhood baker, are you?”

  “He looks like Santa Claus, so he’s more your type than mine.”

  “Well, I like them mature, but not that mature,” Stevie said, flicking his wrist over his shoulder as he headed to the door. “Enjoy.”

  Brodie set aside the envelope and unfolding the top of the bag, she reached in and pulled out a donut covered in powdered sugar. She turned it this way and that before dropping it back into the bag, and after licking the confectioner’s sugar off her fingers, she tore open the envelope.

  Brodie -

  How do you feel about Sichuan food?

  The Chengdu Empress - Friday, at 7.

  Please say yes.

  K

  PS – Enjoy your breakfast.

  ***

  “I hate bloody, fucking paperwork,” Frank Daggett said, tossing another folder on his desk.

  “It’s part of the job,” Kate said, opening a file to begin entering the information into her computer.

  “Data entry is for lasses,” Daggett said, pushing out his chair. “I’m going for a walk.”

  Kate looked up as he marched away and shaking her head, she got back to work. It was Friday morning, and as far as she was concerned, Daggett could keep right on walking until Monday. Kate had yet to request a sit-down with her Chief to find out why she even had a partner, something virtually unheard of at the Met, except Kate prided herself on following orders. Having a stubborn streak also added to Kate’s patience, and she hoped that Daggett would beat her to the punch. His aversion to working with women was as well-known as his pungent aftershave, but so far, he seemed content in making her life miserable. Kate had heard some rumors that Frank had colored outside too many lines at the last borough, and since the man only had a few more years before reaching the minimum pension age, Kate couldn't help but wonder if this partnership was just babysitting duty.

  Kate glanced at the phone, debating if she should call and cancel the reservation she made on Wednesday. She’d yet to hear from Brodie, and Kate feared the lack of response was Brodie’s response. She couldn’t really blame her though. Kate huffed out a breath. No, she couldn’t really blame Brodie at all.

  Kate looked back and forth between the documents on her desk and those on her computer, trying to see where she had left off when a pastel green box was placed on her desk.

  “Fancy a donut?”

  Kate looked up to see Elliott Thackery smiling back at her. “You bought me donuts?”

  “Oh, I didn’t buy them. The bakery delivered them a few minutes ago. Apparently, they made too many or something, so they brought them all here,” Elliott said, gesturing behind him.

  Kate leaned forward to look past Elliott, and sure enough, there were pastel green boxes all over the station. “Wow.”

  “Yeah. The only problem is, they’re all one kind,” Elliott said as he opened the lid of the box. “Hope you like chocolate frosted.”

  Kate’s face lit up as she gazed at the donuts nestled in the box, and as Elliott walked away, she reached in and pulled one out.

  “Oh, crap. I almost forgot,” Elliott said, patting himself down before turning back around. “This came for you about the same time.”

  “Thanks,” Kate said, taking the small blue envelope from his hand.

  “No problem. Enjoy your breakfast.”

  As soon as Elliott walked away, Kate ripped open the envelope and read the card inside.

  Kate –

  I love Sichuan.

  See you at 7.

  B

  PS – Don’t ruin your dinner.

  ***

  Brodie had torn up, crumpled, or shredded more than two dozen notes before settling on the simplest of them all. A short affirmation to confirm her attendance at dinner was all that was needed because the words she needed to say weren’t going
to be delivered with boxes of donuts. They were going to be spoken in person…whether Kate wanted to hear them or not.

  Somewhere between anxious and frustrated, Brodie drove to the restaurant. The smile Kate’s donut delivery had produced had stayed on her face Wednesday morning, but toward the afternoon, it began to waver, and by the time Brodie arrived home that night, it had disappeared. What was she doing? After seeing Kate at the Hirshfeld’s, Brodie had finally moved on. The Loft had reopened, and Brodie returned to what she knew, and while shagging Talia in the bathroom would never be more than just that, it was a step in the right direction. It was who Brodie was, and until she had met Kate, it had been enough.

  Brodie parked her car, and turning off the ignition, she sat in the dark and drummed her fingers on the wheel. She’d never dined at this restaurant before and located on the other side of town, Brodie had planned her route carefully, so carefully she had arrived early, and that was a mistake. It gave her too much time to think, too much time to consider whether she should just cancel and go home. Did it really matter what she had to say? Would it change anything? Brodie let out a ragged breath. How many times had she told herself this was the last time only to let Kate bewitch her again? What the fuck was she doing?

  ***

  Kate sat at a corner table, taking sips of her wine in between fidgeting with the silverware and keeping one eye on the entrance. She hoped tonight would be the first of many spent with Brodie, but as the day turned into night, and Kate found herself sitting alone in a romantic restaurant, her insecurities returned. What if Brodie wanted to move too fast or worse yet, what if Brodie didn’t want to move at all? What if tonight wasn’t about starting a relationship, but merely a way Brodie could put the final nail in the coffin Kate had built?

  Kate reached for her wine as she looked toward the door again, and when she saw Brodie walk into the restaurant, an undeniable sense of pride swept over Kate. The heat of an unusually warm summer had demanded lighter colors, and Kate couldn’t help but admire her guest as she made her way to the table. With her skin bronzed by the sun and wearing white jeans and a tea green long-sleeved linen top, Brodie looked stunning, and Kate shifted in her seat when she felt her body react to the view.

  Brodie reached the table, and Kate beamed. “Hiya, Brodie.”

  “Hi, yourself,” Brodie said, placing a butterfly kiss on Kate’s cheek. “You look lovely.”

  Kate was wearing a breezy, pale peach crepe dress, wrapped in the front and tied with a belt in the same fabric, and if the truth be known, it was brand new just like everything else Kate had on right down to her knickers. She hadn’t intended to shop for clothes until Brodie had accepted her dinner invitation, and after that, nothing Kate owned was good enough. Having worked over her allotted hours for the week, Kate had left work early and headed to a few of her favorite boutiques. She wanted something casual and bright, something feminine and soft that wouldn’t overwhelm the evening, but rather blend with the ambiance of friendship and hopefully something more.

  “Thanks. So do you,” Kate said, watching as Brodie sat down. “And I’m glad you accepted my invitation.”

  “I was a little surprised by it, actually.”

  The waiter approached, interrupting their conversation long enough to take Brodie’s drink order. Once he walked away, Kate leaned a smidge toward Brodie. “You were saying?”

  “Oh, right. I was saying I was surprised. I thought Friday night dinners were set aside for boyfriends.”

  Kate rested back in her chair. “I don’t have one of those.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  Brodie sized up Kate while she thought back to the Hirshfeld’s party. “But I thought…I mean, you said it was serious between you and Fitzgerald.”

  Kate’s smile wavered, and she handed Brodie a menu. “Why don’t we order something, and then we can talk. Okay?”

  ***

  They shared a dinner of Bang-Bang shrimp, stir-fried pork, and crispy duck, both preferring the tasting plates offered instead of separate entrees. As they ate their food and sipped their wine, they shared a few stories about their week, but it wasn’t until the table was cleared of empty plates when Brodie finally said what was on her mind since she’d sat down. “Why am I here, Kate?”

  “I asked, and you accepted.”

  Brodie’s nostrils flared, but before she could speak, the waitress returned with their tea. Resting back in her chair, Brodie waited, using the time to curb her annoyance. Her eyes never left Kate’s, and as soon as the young Asian woman walked away, Brodie sat up straight again. “Now is not the time to be coy.”

  Since making the reservation, Kate had looked forward to this moment almost as much as she had feared it. The time had come to finally say the words they both wanted her to say, and nervous didn’t even come close to what Kate was feeling. Her heart was racing, and her mouth had gone dry, and under the table, she could not calm her bouncing knee. Kate took a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be evasive,” she said, forcing a weak grin.

  “Then answer the question.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  Brodie leaned back and took an audible breath. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now. “Where’s Fitzgerald?”

  “I told you. I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  “What happened?”

  Focusing on her tiny cup of tea, Kate ran her fingertip around the china edge. “Um…I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “Kate, I’m tired of your games,” Brodie said, crossing her arms. “I’m tired of thinking one minute you like me, and the next you don’t. Now, either you start talking, or I’m leaving—for good. So, what’s it going to be?”

  Kate raised her eyes. “I’ve missed you.”

  “Great! Next time, send me a card,” Brodie said as she stood and tossed her napkin on the table.

  “Brodie…wait.”

  “I’m done waiting, Kate,” Brodie said, eyeing the woman. “Why can’t you just admit you like me?”

  “I do,” Kate blurted.

  “Say that again,” Brodie said, raising her voice.

  Kate noticed several heads in the restaurant turn her way. “Brodie, please,” Kate said as a modicum of color was added to her cheeks. “Please just sit down, and we’ll talk about it.”

  Brodie had no intention of moving. She didn’t even blink. “I said, say it again.”

  “Fine, I like you!” Kate shouted and quickly shrinking in her seat, her voice dropped to a whisper. “Now, will you please sit down?”

  Brodie’s face spread into a smile. She slipped back into her chair, and gazing at Kate, she pondered her next question. “So, did you lie about you and Fitzgerald? About it being serious?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  Kate nibbled on her lip for a second. “I…uh…I don’t know.”

  Brodie jutted her jaw to the side. “Should I stand up and threaten to leave again?”

  “Please don’t,” Kate said, her shoulders drooping.

  “Then talk to me, Kate. Tell me why you lied about Fitzgerald.”

  For several seconds, the only sounds were those of the patrons around them chattering to their dinner partners as their silverware clinked against the plates.

  Under the table, Kate ran her hands over her dress to dry her palms. “I was jealous.”

  “What?” Brodie said, furrowing her brow. “What do you mean, jealous?”

  “I saw those…those marks your girlfriend left and—”

  “Talia isn’t my girlfriend.”

  “No?” Kate said, her eyes meeting Brodie’s.

  “No. She’s just someone I know. Just a shag. Nothing else.”

  “Oh, I see,” Kate said, slumping even further into her chair.

  All emotion left Brodie’s face, the lines caused by tension smoothing to an unreadable palette. Where it concerned Kate, hope had been Brodie’s enemy. Lying in wait, it sprang up time and time aga
in, only to dash her to the rocks days, weeks, or even hours later, and by now, Brodie knew all the signs. The flutter in her belly, the feeling of lightheartedness that would put a spring in her step, and that damned belief that everything would be okay were forever her companions when Kate had been in her life…just like they were doing now. Yes, hope had been her adversary, and once again, Brodie was going to lose the fight.

  “I’m not going to see her again,” Brodie said, gazing at Kate. “That is, in case you’re wondering.”

  “No?” Kate said, popping up in her seat.

  “No.”

  Kate hesitated and fiddled with her teacup. “And I’m not going to be seeing Julian anymore.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  A faint twinkle appeared in Kate’s eyes. “Because he’s a wanker.”

  Brodie’s laughter rang through the restaurant, and Kate smiled. The tension she had felt throughout the meal had finally eased, and taking a slow, steady breath, Kate dug deep. “I’m scared.”

  “Of what?” Brodie said softly.

  “Of this.”

  “What do you mean by this?”

  Kate shrugged. “You…me…us.”

  “Is there an us?”

  “Oh, Brodie,” Kate said, sighing. “This is really hard for me.”

  “Kate, just tell me what’s on your mind,” Brodie said, leaning toward Kate. “I promise I won’t judge you. I won’t rant or rave, but we can’t go on like this. I can’t go on like this. I have to know what you’re thinking…what you want. Just tell me why you’re so scared.”

  “I’m scared because…because my entire life’s about to change.”

  “Why?”

  Kate swallowed hard. “Because…because I want to date a woman.”

  “Really?” Brodie said through a smile that reached the next table.

  “Yes.”

  It was one hell of a confession, and Brodie’s body reacted in one hell of a way, yet she could sense something was off. Kate hadn’t maintained eye contact for more than a few seconds before looking away, and if the woman didn’t stop biting on her lip, she was going to do some damage. “Okay, what’s wrong?”