Bona Fide Beauty

by Landra Graf

  “I may feel charitable toward him, but definitely not toward you.”

  Mark nodded in agreement. “Yes, I’m an asshole, and I’m sorry, all right. I jacked things up bad. I don’t want us on bad terms, though. My mother will never let me hear the end of it. I’m sorry for lying to you about having money, for not telling you I didn’t have the money to begin with. Dev was right.”

  “Right about what?”

  “Can I have some tea now?” Contemplative, apologetic Mark scared the crap out of her.

  “Sure.” She got up and fixed him a mug of the same chamomile blend she sipped on, this time pouring it into Gran’s favorite mug, one he’d recognize.

  “Where the hell did you get this?” he asked as she set the mug down in front of him.

  “Gran used to drink out of it every morning. It was her favorite, next to the one I made in my high school pottery class.”

  “Unbelievable. It’s even got some chips in the rim and the handle.” Mark gingerly held the mug up, turning it in a slow circle in his hands, and taking in the photos printed on it. They were all of him and his younger brother.

  “She missed ya’ll after your dad got sent away. I remember she’d look at this mug and then give you both a kiss, talking about how those kisses were love prayers.”

  Mark chuckled and wiped at his eyes. “She used to tell us that when she kissed us goodbye. We were supposed to hold those prayers and remember them anytime we felt down. Damn.”

  He swiped at his face in earnest now, and Kat realized this was probably the most emotion her cousin had openly displayed in years. She wanted to know what the hell prompted this sudden change of attitude.

  “You never answered my question earlier.”

  “Hmm?” His response was muffled by the mouthful of tea he just drank. “What question?”

  “How was Dev right?”

  “He told me I couldn’t hold grudges against you for my father’s mistakes. He’s right. You’re not him; your mom’s not him. Hell, Gran and this house didn’t make him into who he was. I need to stop seeing him in everyone, and I can start with you. Can we try to put this past us?”

  She wanted to say screw off to him and the cold, unfeeling monster who’d taken up residence in his chest, to tell him to get lost and take his sudden awakening crap with him, but he was family. Turning her back on him meant she’d stooped to his level. Not a place she ever wanted to be in. So she did the right thing. “You’re forgiven for fucking me over.”

  “Thank you, and does that mean you’ll help us?”

  “No, I can’t. I have a meeting on Friday with the Beautification Board. It’s my one shot to get them to let go of Gran’s house. I need to prep in the morning, and my meeting is early afternoon. Besides, Dev doesn’t want me involved. He told me that repeatedly. Call me selfish, but where I rest my head is pretty damn important, and I need to respect his wishes as much as I’d expect him to respect mine.”

  Mark sighed before downing the rest of the tea. Setting the mug down he looked her right in the eye. “Fine. You know if you asked Dev, he’d help you get ready for this meeting. It could be a mutual thing.”

  “I need to do this on my own, without help or assistance from anyone associated with Pru. Better to run the show myself. Besides, I’ve got friends to help me too. I’m not all alone, and if this meeting doesn’t pan out, I’ll beg the inspection board to give me more time.”

  Standing, Mark offered a small smile. “Sounds like you got it figured. If they take the house, I know Mom would let you crash in my old room if you asked her. I also have a half-empty storage unit you could use to store Gran’s stuff.”

  She stood herself and slugged him in the arm with a half-hearted punch. “Don’t start being nice; it’s creepy.”

  “Fucking bye, then. Forget I mentioned anything.”

  “Thank you.” Kat walked him to the door, ready to be done with hosting company and get back to her presentation.

  “Oh, hey, Kat.”

  “What?”

  “I just remembered another thing Gran used to say: Put your value in people, not things. Things will let you down time and again, but people, if given a little piece of you, usually stick around.”

  “You’re right. Maybe you should take that advice.”

  “Maybe you should, too.” Mark walked to his car, and she shut the door.

  Gathering her now too-cool mug of tea, she sat on the couch and pondered over his words. This house was not just a thing but a part of a promise to the one person she loved the most. She’d be letting the house down—Gran down—if she gave up now.

  As for Dev, she hated seeing him suffer, but anything she said wouldn’t make a difference. They’d been together in a relationship of sorts, blurred the lines of professionalism and personal interest. The risks had always been present in their interactions. The decision to throw caution to the wind was on both of their heads, and they were facing the repercussions. In this arena love didn’t conquer all.

  22

  The bartender brought round numero dos, a double shot of vodka. Dev appreciated the fact that, after three nights, he and the bartender only had to make eye contact to get the next pour completed. He’d come to Louie’s each time hoping to run into Kat on her own or even with her friends—for the chance to see her without looking like he’d been expecting to. She’d mentioned the place was a regular hangout after work at least one night a week, but no luck so far.

  He refused to give in, and if anything, it provided a great place to people watch. Love, loss, friendly gatherings, there was always someone or a group he could make up a little story about in his head. Anything sounded better than how things were going in his corner. In a way, the bar had become a place for escape.

  In the last four days, they’d identified a “new face” candidate and drafted a culling list and a restructured organization chart. Victoria despised it from the start, declaring a zombie apocalypse would occur before she’d report to Mark. Mark laughed at her outburst and politely suggested she could get a new job, which earned him a middle finger salute. The last couple days at the office weren’t tons of fun—more clients lost and reports of a few people wanting to know whether they’d get refunds if Bona Fide went under. Horrible, awful things to hear as a business owner. Through all of it, the one thing getting him through the day was the random possibility he’d see Kat.

  Instead, a familiar face slipped into his booth.

  “I took the liberty of getting you another drink,” Mark said sliding numero tres across the table toward him. “Vodka? You haven’t drunk that in a long time.”

  “It’s still my favorite. All the reports are done?”

  “Yep, they are. Things don’t look good at all. In fact, if I were a suspicious person, I’d say someone sabotaged us to make every report take a sudden downward spiral. Because that’s exactly what they look like, the opposite of what I presented to the board this past Friday.”

  Dev shrugged, not surprised in the least. It was a good possibility that’s what Pru wanted and why she’d engaged an investigative reporter, but they couldn’t prove it. “Oh well, it is what it is. Thanks for getting them done.”

  “That’s my job, isn’t it? Are you drunk?”

  “No, just tired of fighting, worrying, and battling against someone we weren’t meant to beat.”

  Mark raised an eyebrow. “Really? Are you sure it’s not also the fact that you are missing someone?”

  Maybe he’d let his feelings show too much, but he refused to hide them now. No more hiding anything, and he’d be honest if it killed him. “Yep, I miss her… your cousin, to be specific. I don’t know how, but she gave me something different in my life. I didn’t have to worry about being someone special with her or meeting any expectations. She made me feel like I already did.”

  “I went to see her.”

  “What?” Dev tossed back numero dos and then looked at his friend, waiting for the delayed response, desperate for news.

>   “Yes, you’re not going crazy. I really drove over to her house and had a conversation early this evening.”

  He shook his head. “No, tell me what the hell happened.”

  “I asked her to help you at the meeting Friday. She told me no; there’s some meeting with the Beautification Board about her house. She didn’t go into too much detail about it, but it appears there’s a chance she could keep the house from being taken from her. Regardless, I told her you loved her.”

  “No, you didn’t fucking say those words.” The booze helped the curse word escape more readily. Normally he’d feel ashamed. At the moment he couldn’t care less.

  Mark nodded. “I did because you were too much of a pussy to tell her yourself.”

  He may have been, but, “Not your place to speak my feelings for me. I’ve got a good idea to punch you again.”

  “Before you do, I’d like to provide a friendly reminder that we are in a public establishment and laying hands on me may involve a call to the police. The last thing we need now is more bad publicity.”

  “Whatever happened to the ‘any publicity is good publicity’ school of thought?”

  A shrug of the shoulders was followed by Mark tossing back his first drink, and then he said, “The way of the dodo. Like Bona Fide, if we’re not careful. I also asked Kat for forgiveness.”

  “For what?”

  “Screwing her over with the contract and being an ass. You’re right; family should be a little more important. Honestly, the thought came to me after going over to that house that I hadn’t been to the house in years. My grandma’s place, I mean. It’s still the same. Sure, Kat’s things are there, but so is everything Grandma. It still smells the same too, spices and a little nostalgic.”

  “It’s cool. I understand. Did she forgive you?” Dev knew too well the power of memories and how they could be cathartic as much as punishing.

  “Yes, she did. Also, I forgot her main reason for not helping you—respecting your wishes.”

  “My wishes? The only thing I want is—”

  “To keep her safe. According to her, you offered her money for the house and then told her she needed to stay away from you. Are you going to drink that?” Mark pointed at numero tres.

  “Go ahead; I can always get another.” Drinks didn’t solve the big problem, though. “I said those things, but only because of Pru. We need to get rid of her.”

  “Is that an implication that we should get rid rid of her?”

  Dev laughed; a loud, bellyache thing on an escape route to nowhere. “Ay Dios mio, no. I’m saying we need to buy her out of the board to get rid of her from our business. She needs to go the way of the dodo, and then it wouldn’t matter. Kat could help me. I could help her. My past with this woman would truly be ancient history.”

  Then a light bulb flashed on. A bright idea stared him right in the face on how he could help Kat—the best way to help her and keep her home safe. “Mark, I gotta get out of here.”

  “I know what you mean. We need a vacation after this shit blows over. I say we head south for a few weeks this winter, maybe the Keys or Miami. Anywhere there’s music, good food, and no stress.”

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. I need to go home. There’s a way I can help Kat, but I’ll need a computer and a good eight hours of solid work. Grab the bill for me?”

  “Sure thing, good buddy. It’s the least I can do. Consider it part of me making up for the asshole attitude.” Mark stood up then looked back at him before he headed off. “Are you good to drive?”

  “I’ll take a cab and get my car in the morning.” Dev headed for the door and hailed one of the cabs off to the side; there were always two in this part of town waiting for the guy stumbling out of the restaurant or a bar down the street. He climbed into the back seat, anxious, ready, and hoping he could pull this off before her meeting on Friday. Even if his idea wasn’t the option chosen, at least he’d help provide one additional choice.

  “Welcome to Cafe Luna.” The hostess greeted from her perch behind the desk. She gave a big smile, and Kat held up two fingers. With Betty in tow, she followed the red-haired woman to a booth and sat down.

  “Thank you,” Betty said before the hostess disappeared. Once she did, Kat got a mouthful. “Why didn’t you talk to her? Use a few words.”

  Kat shrugged, tired and already a bundle nerves about the meeting, now one day away. “Sorry, I’m not feeling talkative, and I’ve barely gotten any sleep all week. The presentation I’ve put together is a doozy, but I think it will do.”

  “I’ve looked at it. You’ll be perfect. Now, you need to focus on food. You can’t present unless properly fed.” Betty grabbed her menu and started scanning.

  Kat followed suit, but her heart wasn’t in it. She’d been thinking more and more about Dev and about Mark’s words about her Gran ever since her cousin’s visit, wondering if she’d made the right decision. Had she turned down the possibility of helping him too quickly? She hoped to wash away those thoughts by reminding herself that Dev wanted this, wanted them apart to keep her safe.

  “Maybe I should’ve agreed to help Dev at his meeting.”

  Betty set the menu down and gave her a you-can’t-be-serious look. “This is a conversation we’ve already had, and you know the answer. Helping him doesn’t keep a roof over your head. In this world the only person you have to rely on is yourself. Family is good for some things, but not everything. I hate to say it, but so far your family has been a bust in being supportive.”

  Somehow the message sounded wrong. Sure Kat’s family had failed to help with a lot, but her gran had been there through her whole life. She’d always been prepared for battle with some sort of baked bread, a warm hug, and a kind word at the ready to help solve her problems. Kat had relied on the older woman, especially in those first few years after her parents took off. They’d helped each other. Her grandmother always showed kindness to everyone, even when the situation may not have called for it. “I don’t feel right about leaving him hanging. He’s always helped me. I wasn’t raised to abandon those who need help.”

  “Yes, but can he save your house if you’re busy helping him?”

  She thought about the answer to that one as the waitress came over and took their drink order. Would her grandmother have fought this hard for the family home? She’d liked to have believed so, but the honest answer was she had no clue. Gran had derived love from life, cooking or cleaning, even a good card game. The people surrounding her gave it substance. In fact, Kat had increasingly guilty thoughts when she recalled how her last conversation with Dev had gone. She’d minimized his feelings for her and dismissed everything for her fears of being abandoned. Mark had been right; loving people over things was better in the long run.

  “I don’t know.”

  Betty looked back at her menu. “Then, there’s your answer, you don’t—wait, I’m pretty sure the answer the other day involved a firm no. What’s changed?”

  “I realized I might have judged him too hard, thrown a few things out there without thinking about them. Mark had no reason to come over and tell me Dev loves me, none at all. He didn’t even need to apologize, but he did. I have to believe that means something.”

  “Maybe, but if your cousin is so horrible, how impossible would it be that he’s setting you up?”

  The meeting with her cousin naturally had her on the defensive because it was Mark, asshole extraordinaire. She’d been fighting her natural anger toward him the entire time, even after she’d forgiven him. His words about Dev’s feelings for her, though, those stuck and scared her. If he loved her, and she’d turned him away... “I don’t think so, and setting me up for what? To make Dev look worse? Bona Fide is his business too. If it doesn’t succeed, Mark won’t either. Not only did he want to be forgiven for that, but for the whole situation with Gran’s house. He even offered me room and board plus a storage unit if the worst happens. The cherry on the sundae? He said Dev loves me.”

  “
You didn’t mention that yesterday.”

  Kat shrugged. “Can you blame me? Everyone has firmly been in the leave-Dev-alone camp. Logic says to follow the advice of the many compared to the words of an untrustworthy person. But I’m sharing with you now because it’s on my mind. If he loves me, then I need to show him I love him.”

  The waitress came back with their drinks and a bowl of rolls. “Are you ladies ready to order lunch?”

  “Give us a minute, please?” Betty gave her sweetest smile, which disappeared as soon as the waitress moved away. “You love him? Is this serious?”

  “Yes, I think it is.”

  Betty took a deep breath. “I’m not an expert in that area, but it’s dangerous territory.”

  “Why?”

  “Strings, there are always strings with love. I learned that the hard way.”

  “Then Betty, sweetie, you love the wrong type of people. He’s never asked me for anything. Mark asked me to help. The only thing Dev ever wanted to do for me was give me money, attention, and time.” She could’ve gone on and on with the things he’d offered her without reserve. “He’s probably one of the most giving people I know. He gives time to the battered women’s shelter, helping them with resumes and interviews. If he loved me, I’m pretty sure he’d never ask for anything.”

  Her friend shrugged and flagged the waitress down. “Time is strings. I’d be wary, and I still don’t understand how he could’ve helped save the house.”

  The waitress, violet-haired and sweet, took their order. Once she’d left, Kat told the rest of the story that Betty failed to grasp. “He came up with those cards on the Beautification Board members. He taught me how to change my body language. I bet he has a ton of good tips for presentation and negotiation tactics. I’m entering unknown territory tomorrow.”

  “Then call him, if you think it’d help.”

  Kat rolled her eyes. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope, I’m serious. Don’t be wishy-washy. You either want his help and you want to help him, or you don’t, and we’ll eat lunch. The damn meeting is in less than twenty-four hours. Your last chance to get final opinions and thoughts is now. It’s like the part of the wedding when you can still call everything off.”