The Writer's Romance

by Elsa Kurt

  “Janie!” Both Tori and Katharine shouted.

  “You want to have another baby? Why is this the first we’re hearing of this? Does Jim know?” Katharine had a million questions.

  “Well, it’s something I just started thinking about lately. I don’t know. Wait, that’s not true. I do know. I really do want another baby, guys.”

  Katharine and Tori hugged Janie. Then they toasted her with their bottled waters, “To a future baby McNamara,” said Tori.

  “May this one be a girl,” laughed Katharine.

  “Slow down, you two. I haven’t even told Jimmy yet,” said Janie.

  “Oh, please,” scoffed Katharine, “I’ve seen how he is with you. You could ask him for a two-headed alligator, and he’d say, ‘Whatever you want, babe.’ Right, Tori? Tori?”

  Tori was staring off, a small smile on her lips. She startled slightly at hearing her name. “Yes! Right, definitely.”

  Janie slanted her eyes to Katharine and Katharine narrowed hers at Tori. “Spill it, Tori. Something else happened at your reading, didn’t it? You’ve had some other revelation besides your love for surfer-boy Justin.”

  “Eww. Don’t say love. And yes, fine. There was something else, but I wasn’t getting it until now. Amara said one of my cards represented, like, a crossroads or something, and based on the other cards, it looked work related. Basically, my whole reading revolved around work stuff. Which makes sense, because I have had something big on my mind—no, not Justin, before you even say it—it’s something I’ve always dreamed of doing, since I was a little girl. But I—”

  “Okay, so are you going to tell us, or are you going to keep being cryptic?” Janie threw a pillow at Tori.

  “Okay, okay,” sighed Tori, “I’ve always wanted to design clothes. And have my own boutique. I know, I know, it’s ridiculous.”

  “Um, I’m sorry…why is that ridiculous? Didn’t you tell me once that at least half of your clothes were handmade? And that you practically dress two of your clients? I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a more fashionable woman than you, Tori. Granted, I don’t get out much…”

  “But I do, Tori. And I read fashion magazines. You’ve got the magic touch. In fact, forget regular dress shopping tomorrow. You dress her in something of yours. I’ll bet you have a whole closet full of stuff, don’t you,” asked Janie.

  Tori shrugged then laughed, “Try a whole room full of them. Well, if you're okay with that, Katharine, then I am, too. Oh, and while we’re there, you might want to pick out something, too, Janie.”

  “Me? Why? The fanciest place Jim and I go is Angelico’s.”

  “For the gala, silly. I have tickets for you and Jim. Surprise!”

  Janie’s jaw dropped, and she looked to Katharine for confirmation. Katharine laughed and said, “Don’t look at me, this is the first I’m hearing of it. Can you get a sitter on such short notice, though?”

  Janie was already on the phone. “Daddy? Can you stay through the weekend?” A pause. She smiled, looked up at Tori and Katharine, and gave the thumbs up. “Thanks, Dad, you’re the best. Love you. No, I’ll call the boys before bed. Bye.”

  She ended the call, and all three squealed like schoolgirls in excitement. So, this is what having girlfriends is like. Katharine decided it was pretty awesome. In a few short months, Katharine had bonded with these two women who she, on the surface, had nothing in common with. Yet, their friendship had developed quickly and easily, without drama or mistrust. Sure, her circle was small, but at least she could say she finally had a circle to speak of.

  They stayed up late into the night and rose surprisingly cheerfully the next morning. Tori had a driver bring them into the city, where they lunched and shopped in the comfort of Tori’s beautifully decorated apartment. By early evening, they had dresses chosen, and Tori was able to do the minor alterations on the spot. They said their goodbyes-for-now and gave Tori copious thanks for everything she’d done and climbed back into the waiting car.

  “Whew. I feel like Cinderella at the ball, don’t you,” sighed Janie as she settled back into the leather seat.

  “Yes, and we haven’t even gone to the ball yet,” said Katharine.

  They laughed weakly, exhaustion had set in. The ride home was comfortably quiet. Katharine’s mind turned back to Mitch practically instantly, as if they’d been waiting for the first break in conversation. After her reading with Amara, she’d been so full of confidence and determination to tell him once and for all that she…had feelings for him. You really need to come up with something better than that. The doubts and insecurities began to creep in again. They’d had no contact in nearly two weeks. Unless she were to count the ongoing social media war they were engaging in via Tori and Justin. Tori and Justin. Now that was a curious pair. Katharine grinned, picturing the two together. Laid-back Justin, with his sun-bleached shoulder length, blond hair, his puka shell necklace and meditation bead bracelets. Tori, with her sharp, sleek New York style, dark skin, and elegant bearing. No question they’d look gorgeous together, but how would their personalities mesh?

  How would she and Mitch mesh, for that matter? Assuming they’d even get a chance to find out, that is. For the nearly two-hour ride, Katharine had battling visions of best-case scenarios, and disaster scenes play out in her head, while Janie snored not-so-daintily beside her. By the time the car pulled into her long driveway, Katharine had committed to talking to Mitch. Hopefully before the gala.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  IT’S ABOUT TIME

  “Stay still, will you? You’re worse than a kid on a trampoline,” Sam admonished.

  “You’re taking too long. Do you even know how to tie a bow-tie?” Mitch slapped Sam’s hands away and turned to the mirror in the hotel’s banquet foyer. He was no better at it, but he fiddled with the ends nonetheless. Belatedly, he realized he shouldn’t have waited until the last minute to put it on.

  “Well, somebody’s cranky. Jeez. I take it you still haven’t spoken to her?”

  “No,” Mitch scowled at Sam through the long mirror, “I haven’t. I stopped by twice. She either wasn’t home or wasn’t answering.”

  “Did you try calling? Or texting?”

  “No, I want to talk to her face to face. I’m old-fashioned like that.”

  “Or chicken,” Sam muttered.

  “What was that, Samuel? You know what, never mind. In thirty minutes, I’m giving a speech, and then I’m giving an award to a woman I’m not dating and haven’t spoken to in two weeks, yet the media has us in some kind of lover’s quarrel. Oh, and I just happen to be crazy about her—for real.”

  “So, this is probably a bad time to remind you that Katharine still doesn’t know you’re giving her the award?”

  Mitch’s head dropped. “Tell me you’re kidding. Whose bright idea was that? No, don’t tell me—Justin?” He looked to Sam for confirmation. “Is there anything else I need to know, Samuel? Any other surprises?”

  “Ah, none that I’m aware—”

  “Well, hello, handsome. Still can’t tie a bow-tie, hmm?” Two slender hands reached around him and deftly began knotting the black satin ends. Warm breath tickled his ear. A pair of ice-blue eyes met him in the mirror. Leanne. She gave him a sly smile and added, “Close your mouth, darling. You’ll catch flies.”

  Mitch ducked out from between her arms and pivoted away. Or at least, he tried to. She closed the gap he’d created and reached again for his half-done tie, tsking at him as she did. “Oh, Mitchie, don’t be so jumpy. Aren’t you happy to see me again?”

  “Leanne, what are you doing here,” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “Well,” she drawled, “Daddy and W.T. Taylor go way back. I told him I needed to go to the gala, and voila! Here I am.”

  Mitch closed his large hands around her wrists and gently but firmly moved them off his chest. She tried to step in closer, but he held her at bay. The doors to the banquet opened. Mitch, Sam, and Leanne all glanced over to see Katharine, Nate and
his girlfriend Alyssa, Tori, Justin, Janie and Jim walk in. Though Mitch was frozen in place, his breath caught at the stunning sight of Katharine in her simple, elegant black Grecian-style gown. Her hair was in a loose, low bun. Stray locks of wavy, honey-colored hair brushed against her clavicle. A smooth ivory pearl nestled at her throat, born by a delicate white-gold chain. It was the only jewelry she wore. He was dumbstruck. And he was still holding Leanne’s wrists.

  He realized this in the same moment Katharine’s gaze swept across the room and their eyes locked. He released Leanne’s wrists, but it was too late, Katharine had seen the contact. Mitch could see her take in the visage of him and Leanne and could read her reactions as if he were inside her head. First, surprise, even a flicker of delight. Then—as her gaze fell from his face to his hands to Leanne—confusion, followed by the dawning of understanding—which was a misunderstanding, of course. Lastly, a wall of cold disinterest fell across her features like a curtain and her eyes slid away from him and shifted straight ahead.

  He made a move—even began to say her name—but Leanne cut him off with a loud, sickly sweet croon of, “My poor Mitch, what would you do without me,” just as Katharine and her entourage passed them by. Only Justin spoke to him, calling out, “Hey bro, how’s—” until Tori swatted him in the stomach and pulled him through the doors.

  Mitch glared at Leanne, and Sam stepped forward quickly, “Leanne, sweetheart, how about I take you inside for a cocktail, okay? Please?”

  “Oh, but I was starting to have fun, Sammy,” she pouted.

  Mitch’s hands clenched at his sides, his jaw worked in fast pulses, and his face was an angry shade of red. Leanne took her cue at last. “Oh, fine. Take me to the bar, Sam. Mitchie isn’t going to be any fun, I see.”

  They left Mitch in the grand foyer fuming and counting to ten. Then he counted to fifty. When he’d gotten himself under control, he went inside the ballroom, determined to find Katharine before the presentation began. However, he couldn’t make it five feet without someone or other grabbing his arm or asking for a photograph or making an introduction. He’d made it only half-way through the room when W.T. Thomas himself took the stage and asked for everyone’s attention.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen. I’d like to thank you all for coming out tonight for the tenth annual W.T. Taylor Gala for Literacy.”

  Copious applause followed, and Mitch used the moment to push his way through the crowd of standees and waitstaff and weave around the round dinner tables. The lights had been dimmed, and a spotlight was trained on W.T., so Mitch had to offer up numerous apologies as he crushed toes and bumped shoulders. Still, he kept moving and searching.

  The applause died, and W.T. continued. “As in years past, the W.T. Taylor Foundation has made generous donations to a variety of causes near and dear to us. Charities such as—”

  Mitch was only partially listening; his attention was on scanning the dimly lit heads of the attendees. She couldn’t have gone far. If only he knew where her table was. Meanwhile, W.T. droned on.

  “Which brings us up to date. This year, we’ve chosen yet another invaluable organization to contribute tonight’s proceeds to. But first, let me tell you a little about—”

  Still no sight of Katharine. He had made it practically all the way up to the front of the room, with one table left unchecked. In the light cast off by the spotlight, he could make out Janie in her yellow dress. As his eyes adjusted, he checked off each of Katharine’s table mates. One chair sat empty. Katharine was missing from the table. In frustration, he turned quickly and nearly knocked down the person behind him. Instinctively, he reached out and grasped the woman’s arms, holding her upright.

  “Geez, watch where you’re going, will—” she hissed. She looked up into Mitch’s face. It was Katharine. They both froze.

  Then, suddenly, the spotlight was on them. Mitch squinted and hooded his eyes with his hand, and Katharine shook herself free of his grasp.

  “Well, how about these two, huh,” guffawed W.T. Thomas into the microphone. The crowd laughed and applauded. “Like a real-life Han Solo and Princess Leia, aren’t they?”

  Mitch grinned and waved to the audience affably, Katharine glared at him. He made a motion to her—cutting his eyes from her to the crowd and giving a quick nod—she straightened, brushed back the stray hairs from her shoulder and plastered a tight smile on her lips as she gave them all a curt wave. They seemed to love it—the spectacle of the adorably warring couple—and more laughter-mingled applause ensued.

  “Well, Mr. Ford, Ms. Evans,” boomed W.T. again, “this seems like the perfect time to move on to the award portion of the evening. Mitch, if you can let the woman be for a moment, why don’t you come on up here?”

  Katharine questioned Mitch with her eyes, then frowned a little and shook her head as pushed past him to take her seat. Mitch sighed and pulled out his neatly typed, polite, but generous speech. Once at the podium, he smoothed the folded sheet several times and looked out at the sea of tables. He could feel Katharine’s eyes on him. Beads of sweat collected at his temples and he cleared his throat. Mitch looked down at the sheet of paper, where words like ‘quiet and humble, humanitarian, loving sister,’ swam up at him. It was the speech he’d give for an acquaintance. Not the one to give if he hoped to woo the woman he’d somehow fallen madly in love with, despite their unending series of miscommunications. He looked down at Katharine long enough to make her squirm in her seat and a ripple of feminine twitters to ripple through the crowd. He crumpled the paper and tossed it aside. Then, he took a deep breath.

  TWENTY-SIX

  ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL

  Tori had spared no expense—on W.T. Taylor’s dime, of course—and hired a stylist to do their hair, and Katya the make-up artist from Connecticut Today to do their make-up. She, Katharine, Alyssa, and Janie were primped and prettied while drinking champagne. Meanwhile, Justin, Jim, and Nate drank beer in Tori’s kitchen and complained about how long they were taking. At last, it was time to go. Tori had even hired a stretch limousine to travel the relatively short distance to the hotel.

  The limo glided up to the hotel, and the driver assisted each of the women out of the car. Katharine was nervous, but she quickly became more and more swept up in the excitement and elegance of the event as they entered the lavish hotel and made their way to the ballroom. Massive, heavy doors separated the hotel side from the ballroom foyer. Justin and Jim pushed them open and Katharine, followed by the rest of their party, entered the anteroom.

  With wide eyes, she took in the ornately framed large mirrors, the scrolled and etched molding, the marble pillars, and the crimson carpet. There was a small group of people beside the second set of doors—those that led into the ballroom itself—and Katharine’s gaze fell directly on the tall man in the center. Mitch. Unable to help herself, she began to smile. Then, the rest of the scene registered. The woman beside him, their close stance, his hands holding hers. It was that Leanne woman. Katharine then spied Sam, he stood off to the side, looking apologetic.

  I see. So, this is how it is, then. Katharine immediately switched off her emotions—a skill she’d mastered over a lifetime. She would not let this ruin her night, or anyone else’s. They passed by without a word or acknowledgment, except for Justin’s call out which was abruptly silenced by Tori. Once inside, the women leaned in close to comfort Katharine, but she would have none of it.

  “Girls, I’m fine. Completely fine. Now I know for sure where everything stands. Time to move on. Let’s find our table, shall we?”

  She ignored their concerned glances and behind her back whispers and led the way through the crowd. They would not discuss him, look at him, think about him, or talk to him. Mitch Ford no longer existed in her world. That was that. Amara, the tarot card reader, was wrong. She was silly to entertain the notions in the first place. Different people, different lives, incompatible. Apparently, he was with the Amazon woman with the beady eyes, so whatever. This is what she told herself
on repeat as they took the seats. Katharine ignored her friend’s nervous glances, as well as the furious looking back-and-forth whispers between Tori and Justin. She didn’t care. She would accept her award graciously, enjoy the rest of the evening, then go home.

  “Katharine, I have to tell you something.” Tori grabbed her arm and pulled her in.

  “As long as it’s not about you-know-who, then—”

  “Justin told me Mitch is the one presenting you your award. I’m sorry, Katharine, I had no idea.”

  Katharine balled up the napkin on her lap and threw it down on the table as she stood. With as much calm as she could muster, she said, “I’m fine. I need to get a drink. I’ll be back.”

  She pushed through the crowd unseeingly, her eyes on the bar. Being short worked to her advantage, she could duck and weave through everyone with relative ease. It wasn’t until she arrived at the bar that her height worked against her. Katharine was blocked by a couple—a tall woman and a stout man. He seemed to be admonishing her, and she seemed to be ignoring him. They accepted their drinks, and the tall woman turned to the man beside her. Leanne. Lacking a better idea, Katharine quickly turned away and hurried back to her table. W.T. Taylor had begun his speech, so she justified her cowardly retreat by reminding herself that the awards portion would commence at any time.

  One last show for the crowd, then I never have to speak to him again. I can do this. I’ll do it for Nate, and the Foundation. Just put on a big, happy smile and look Mitch right in the eye as he—

  Something akin to a brick wall slammed into her, nearly knocking her to the floor. “Geez Watch where you’re going, will—”