“Ah, so you don’t like to share. How did I rate an invitation?”
“I thought you, of anybody, would appreciate it.” She paused for a moment then said, “Everything is so serious with you. You take so much on and you’re always pushing yourself. And now all this pressure with your business—if anyone needs a break, it’s you. You should do it more often, or in your case, do it period.”
“I’m starting to feel like one of your charity projects,” he said, but without his usual sardonic sting. “Aren’t you busy enough without adding me to the list?”
“Probably, but I can never resist a good challenge.”
That made him laugh, and Katie liked the way it changed him. In this setting, forgetting work and responsibility for a while, he looked younger, more at ease, definitely more approachable, and at his most appealing.
“So is this your only way of escaping,” Blake asked about halfway through lunch, “or do you have others? Something involving champagne, maybe?”
“You might as well give up. I’m not going to tell you,” she insisted. Though with the right persuasion on his part—Katie quashed that thought immediately and hoped the warm rush the idea caused hadn’t translated into a telltale blush. “I do have a few others.”
“Should I assume they involve shopping or the spa?”
“You should not. You obviously need to change your ideas about what women like.”
The expression in his eyes suggested he had several ideas and this time she didn’t have to wonder about the blush. “Tell me what you like, Katie.”
“I don’t think you’d be interested,” she said, avoiding looking at him.
“You might be surprised. Come on,” Blake coaxed, “tell me one thing, one of your favorites.”
“All right, one thing.” She considered for a moment. “This is a little silly…”
“I doubt it, but I promise not to laugh.”
“Okay, I love Bogart movies. Occasionally, I lock myself in the den with a week’s supply of popcorn and spend the night watching my favorites.” Feeling slightly self-conscious at her admission, she added, “I’ve never told anyone else that, so I’m counting on you to keep my secret.”
Blake reached out and took her hand, threading her fingers with his. “You can count on me, Katie.” And it sounded almost like a vow that had nothing to do with her penchant for old movies. “I promise.”
One thing she knew for certain about Blake McCord, he didn’t take his promises lightly and knowing he intended to keep this one caused a mixed up mess of pleasure, confusion, desire and uncertainty in her that Katie couldn’t begin to sort out.
She didn’t try, not now, but allowed herself to enjoy being with him, here in this temporary haven, where nothing and no one else intruded, and to believe it could be the beginning of something she had never expected.
Chapter Seven
“Katerina, it’s only for the weekend.” Anna Salgar’s growing frustration with her daughter was clear as she slapped smooth hands to slender hips. “You need a dress for the ball and I won’t have you attending in something from Dallas. It’s too risky.”
Katie groaned. “Oh, Mother, don’t be ridiculous. There are dozens of designer stores here. I’ll find something no one else would dare wear. I promise.”
“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” Anna turned her back and idly fingered an Italian jewelry box on Katie’s bureau. “Tate brought this to you, didn’t he? From Florence?”
“Yes, and—”
Anna opened the box listened to a chimed rendition of Tchaikovsky’s The Sleeping Beauty waltz, closed the box and faced her daughter. “And, since you keep telling me that you and Tate are finished, that means you’re single and available. You can’t take chances with your attire. You need to dress appropriately and with a singular sense of style.”
Katie paced in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the back of her bedroom suite. Single, what is that? For as long as she could remember she’d been promised to, then engaged to Tate. She dropped down on the edge of her bed and let her face sink into her palms, forgetting any pretense of grace. “Mother, I don’t even know what that means.”
“Oh, darling, I know,” Anna said, moving to sit next to her. “That’s why I want to take you to New York, just the two of us, for a mother-daughter shopping trip. I need to show you how to enjoy your new freedom.” She brushed a lock of hair from Katie’s cheek. “I never imagined you’d face this day, but you have and now we have to switch strategies.”
Katie’s chin went up. “Strategies?”
“Well, perhaps that’s a poor choice of words, but what I mean is that you have to learn new skills, have a new attitude toward men. And yourself.”
Thoughts of Blake rose in her mind. She wasn’t with Blake as a lover, but there was no denying they’d become more than friends. She felt lost, confused, as though in a no-man’s-land. Should she heed her mother’s advice? It felt that’s what she’d always been doing when it came to her relationship with Tate, listening to what others told her was best, never considering if it was what she wanted.
Yet here she was, over thirty and for the first time in her life single. How did one be single, anyhow?
“This sounds ridiculous at my age, but honestly, Mom, I’m afraid I don’t know what the rules are and I’m not sure I really want to learn.”
“Of course you do. And I want to help you with all of that. It’s important now that you’re no longer engaged, that you don’t rush into anything—or anyone—else.”
Anna’s implication was clear, though Katie knew well her mother would far rather avoid a confrontation over Blake, relying instead on understatement and implication than actual honesty, than tell her straight-out to keep her distance from another McCord man.
“That isn’t a problem,” she said flatly, trying to ease her mother’s suspicions.
It was a problem, though. He was a problem. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the time they’d enjoyed together recently, about how comfortable she felt with him. How much she wanted more…
“Good,” Anna said, obviously relieved. She patted Katie’s leg then stood and strode over to open the double doors to Katie’s expansive walk-in closet. “We may need to start from scratch,” she said, fingering dress after dress, blouse after blouse, skirt after skirt, her expression mostly disapproving.
Katie followed her. “I like my clothes.”
“You have wonderful taste, dear, but we may have to, well, tweak it.”
Shaking her head, knowing if she didn’t put a stop to it here and now, Anna would take over her closet and her love life. “Okay, let’s compromise. I’ll go to New York to buy a dress for the ball, but only if you promise not to throw out one piece of clothing from my closet until we can talk more about this and go over things together.”
Considering, Anna slowed her rapid-fire sweep of Katie’s clothing, shoes, purses, belts, scarves. Anna was on a mission now and it frightened Katie. Her mother’s will was harder than any diamond in the McCord collection. Anna lingered over a black cashmere sweater-dress, weighing the quality of the fabric between her index finger and thumb.
Katie held her breath and her stance. She wasn’t going to give in to her mother this time.
Finally, Anna dropped the piece of fabric and turned to Katie with a conservative smile. “So, we’ll start with New York.”
Katie’s arms were so loaded down with bags when her cell phone rang that she had to drop several of them smack onto the Fifth Avenue sidewalk to grab her phone.
Anna had stopped alongside her, but discouraged her from answering the phone. “Let it go. You can get the message later.”
“I can’t. It might be Blake.” His name spilled out unchecked and she hurried to find an explanation. “We’re right in the middle of finalizing auction items. He might need information.”
“Hmm” was all Anna would reply.
“Finally.” Katie jerked her phone from the bottom of
her purse and flipped it open. “Hello,” she said breathlessly, the brilliant sunlight overhead preventing her from reading the name on the screen.
“You sound more like you’re at the gym than a boutique.”
It’s Blake, thank heavens, she mused. The New York trip had come up so suddenly she’d only had time to say goodbye over the phone, in a message no less. Because they hadn’t spoken she wondered if he might think she was running away, or that she needed a break from him.
“Katie, are you there? All I hear is heavy breathing. Not that, given the right circumstances, that’s a bad thing.”
Oh, yes, that’s what she needed right now, on a busy street, with her mother hanging on her every word—Blake being suggestive. “Um, yes, sorry. We’re in the middle of foot traffic on Fifth Avenue. My arms are loaded down and I couldn’t find my cell.”
“So, it’s been a productive venture?”
“Far too much so.” Katie glanced at Anna, who huddled her chinchilla coat around herself. “Mother bought out three boutiques.”
“I thought you went for one dress.”
“Me, too.” She heard his deep laughter resonate at the other end and suddenly ached to see the smile that went with it. “I think I’ve been hijacked.”
Though her mother wore oversize sunglasses, Katie knew she was rolling her eyes behind them.
“So how are things there? Any news on those last few donations?” They were hardly the questions she wanted to ask but under the circumstances had little choice. She was tempted to ask him if he missed her, if he’d thought about her as much as she’d thought about him. Spoken in her mind, though, those queries sounded a bit childish, a demand for reassurances he couldn’t give.
There was a long silence and then “I miss you.”
Her heart jumped. Anna’s big black shades were riveted on her. “Yes, exactly, my thoughts exactly.”
Again the familiar amusement in his voice. “If I didn’t want to see you so much, it would be fun to know you’re standing there in the heart of the Big Apple squirming.”
“You can be an arrogant jerk, you know that?”
“Yes. But I still miss you.”
“Katie, I’m freezing. Can you please continue this little tête-à-tête indoors?” Anna flagged a cab. “Let’s go over to the Plaza for a hot toddy.”
She nodded to her mother. “Can I call you later? Mother is cold and we need to catch a cab.”
“I’ll be here. I just wanted talk for a moment. Your message was a poor substitute.”
Katie felt a twist in her chest, something between thrilled and frustrated. “It helped me, too.”
“Ring whenever you’re free, okay?”
“Tonight, um, after—”
“After your mother is asleep?”
“Exactly,” she said with a slightly guilty schoolgirl laugh.
“Have fun.”
“Thanks. I’ll try.” She wanted to add that it would be much easier if he were there with her, but instead settled for a soft goodbye.
An hour later, warm and comfortably cozy in their corner of the vast and recently renovated Park Plaza bar area, Katie stared out a giant picture window toward Central Park. At certain angles she could catch glimpses of horses and carriages, couples nestled beneath blankets, enjoying the crisp late autumn air and the golden reflection of waning sunlight—enjoying each other.
She knew it was corny, and Blake would probably laugh at her, but somehow she’d always imagined a horse and carriage ride through Central Park on a starry eve to be hopelessly romantic. Would he even be able to sit still for an hour’s ride? So driven, so ambitious and responsible, would he be on edge and miss the wonder of the entire experience?
“If I wanted to keep myself company, I would have come to New York alone.”
Katie looked up to where her mother was reseating herself, not even realizing she must have left for the ladies’ room. “I’m sorry. I have a lot on my mind right now with the ball and so on. I let myself get distracted.”
Anna lifted a crystal champagne glass, pink from the Kir Royal filling it. She must have switched from toddies to champagne when cocktail hour started. Something else Katie had failed to notice.
“Liar.”
Katie jerked back. “Excuse me?”
“You’ve been distracted since Blake called.”
Sipping her now icy cold hot toddy, Katie winced. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“You expect me to believe you haven’t been thinking about him the whole time?” When Katie answered with an exasperated shake of her head, Anna flashed a bright smile that was as false as Katie’s denial. “Well, if that’s true, then you won’t mind entertaining one of New York’s premiere residents.”
Katie sighed. Her mother was up to something; she’d sensed it from the start but tried to believe it wasn’t so. Inwardly counting to ten to calm her anger, she took a deep, soothing breath then confronted Anna. “What are you talking about? I thought this was a girls’ weekend.”
“Oh, it is, it is, darling. I just thought it might be fun to have a drink—and perhaps dinner—with an old friend’s son.”
“I can’t believe you,” Katie groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t bring me here to try to set me up.”
“How suspicious you are! Oh, there he is—” She shook a warning red-nailed finger. “Now you be nice.”
Gritting her teeth, Katie followed her mother’s eyes to a tall, dark and attractive man wearing a designer suit cut and sewn to every lean line of his towering frame. He strode toward them with the ease of a man who might well have lived at the Park Plaza. Smiling broadly, a waiter rushed over to him and the taller man bent to give an order in his ear. Before Katie could get up and beat a hasty exit he was there, standing over them, grinning.
“Hello, Anna, stunning as ever,” he said smoothly, reaching to brush a kiss to Anna’s hand. “And you must be Katerina,” he said with a slight bow and an ever-so-subtle sweep of a gaze.
“Katie,” she managed as politely as possible.
“Katie, this is Ruth’s son, Girard. Remember, Ruth is one of my dearest friends from Wellesley. We were in the same sorority and have been friends ever since.”
“It’s just a shame you two live so far apart,” Girard said, “and that Mother isn’t up to traveling these days.”
“It is a shame. I’d loved to have seen her. I’ll fly up east again this summer for a visit. Dallas is unbearable in July. Oh, my, I’m so sorry, please, do sit down. We’ve a chair right here.”
Reluctantly, Katie scooted away from her window enough to allow him access to the chair next to her. Her mother had thought of everything, even in her choice of table and seating. Typical. She tried to reason that her mother wanted only what she thought was best for her, but after getting past Tate, already Anna was again interfering in her choices in men and in life. It was all Katie could do not to take her irritation out on Girard.
He was catching Anna up on his mother’s health when the waiter arrived with a bottle of French wine and a tray of elegant appetizers. He turned to Katie. “I hope you don’t mind. I just finished a rough day on Wall Street and I could use a drink and a snack. If you don’t like the wine, I’ll get another.”
“It all looks lovely,” Katie said, hoping no sarcasm slipped into her tone. The spread was lovely, the wine was lovely, Girard was lovely, but she wasn’t so lovely. She felt quite unlovely actually, since all she wanted to do was to get away from all of this loveliness and go home to Blake. Who at times wasn’t so lovely. But somehow, most of the time at least, instinctively, she understood why.
“It looks like your shopping trip has been a success,” Girard mentioned, smiling over the heap of elegant shopping bags stacked around them.
“Oh, yes, we’ve found the perfect dress for the charity ball Katie is organizing. It’s simply smashing, made for her. Take it out and show him, Katie.”
“No, really, I don’t think so,” Katie said, trying not to grit
her teeth. “This isn’t the place.”
Girard laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’ll take your mother’s word for it. What color is it?”
“Midnight-blue,” she said softly, managing not to flinch when he touched her, though she found the sensation oddly disconcerting. She realized she didn’t want him or any man other than Blake to touch her. When had that happened? Throughout her relationship with Tate, she’d danced with other men, allowed them to put an arm around her now and then, even held a hand or two or accepted a kiss here and there. It had meant nothing. Now she felt a sense of betrayal. It was irrational and ridiculous, yet in an odd sort of way it felt good to know she cared enough about one man not to want the attentions of another.
“It sounds perfect,” he was saying.
She thanked him politely and changed the subject.
They chatted pleasantly enough and by the time they’d finished their wine and appetizers, he’d succeeded in convincing them to go to a quaint but elegant Italian restaurant where they worked their way through four courses and a couple more bottles of fabulous Italian wine. When he escorted them back to their hotel, Anna excused herself to the elevator, leaving Katie to say a sleepy and a bit tipsy good-night.
“May I see you again?” Girard asked as he walked slowly beside her to the elevator. It opened, the doorman waiting patiently inside.
“Thank you, but I—” I’m what? Involved with my ex-fiancé’s brother?
“No problem.” He lifted a finger to her lips. “I don’t need an explanation.” He extended a hand kindly, but with an air of distance. “It was a pleasure to have met you. I hope the remainder of your visit is wonderful. If you need anything at all, your mother knows how to reach me.” With a tip for the elevator operator and a gentlemanly nod, he turned on his heel and headed across the marble lobby to the front door.
She watched him walk away, not wishing to follow or that he would come back, but wondering for the first time if what her mother had said had some truth to it. Was she rushing into something with Blake? Should she take more time exploring being single and dating other men before she made up her mind what she wanted?
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