by Ewens, Tracy
He couldn’t get her out of his mind. What the hell had he been thinking? Why did he give a shit whether she knew him, really knew him? Christ, he was going soft. She spent less than thirty minutes in his home and now she was everywhere. When he looked out his back patio all he could see was her standing there in the moonlight looking at him like he might actually have a chance. Like she was about to kiss him, or would have let him kiss her. This was insane.
He wanted her. It was as simple as that. The thought washed right over him as she walked through his house. He had no idea what to do with her. Actually, he had a lot of ideas on what to do with her, they came to him daily now, but none of them would ever find a door in his world to let her in. He felt as if he was standing outside a store that he never knew existed, and she was in the window. He wanted, but wanting and having were two very different things. Shit!
To hell with lying low, he was going out. He had friends, women. There was no reason for him to sit around this house pining over some woman he met last month. This wasn’t him. Grady picked up his phone to make fun, single guy, non-thinking plans when he saw the text from Kate:
Great work with the volunteers today. Hope you’re having a calm and peaceful night in. No climbing! :)
He must have read it three times before something in his male brain said, “That’s a damn smiley face, you idiot. Why are you staring at it like it’s a naked woman?” Grady dropped the phone and then picked it up again. He should respond. Christ, it was like he was in high school again. He started with a simple, “Thanks,” and then thought that sounded too, well simple. He hated texting, it lacked personality, but she was obviously reaching out, professionally anyway, so he needed to say something. In the end, he decided to just be himself:
Just lying here in bed, alone.
Grady smiled and hit send. “That’ll fix your cute little smiley face that’s driving me crazy,” he said out loud to no one. Yep, he’d lost his damn mind.
He looked up and there was a lady on Antique Roadhouse wanting to value the enamel on silver gilt she was told was Romanov. Grady turned up the volume, eager to hear how the show turned out, and went to the kitchen to grab his dinner. It was official. He was staying in for the fourth weekend in a row.
Chapter Eleven
Madison Elementary was hosting the regional spelling bee this year. Once again, Kate agreed to be the reader. It all started when Faith, her sister-in-law, Ethan’s wife, who was a fourth grade teacher, called her a year ago with a crisis. Mr. Plimpton, the theater teacher with the melodic exacting voice, had some type of nervous breakdown and apparently started eating at the drywall in his apartment. When Faith called, Kate was on her second pint of Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey and not feeling so great herself.
“Kate, the spelling bee is tonight and without a reader they just can’t . . . think of how disappointed everyone will be!”
“Isn’t there someone else that can do this?” She had asked, muting the television.
“You have a really great voice and we need that—someone who can articulate. Please,” Faith had begged.
When Kate said nothing, Faith started to back out, masterfully. “It’s fine, if you’re busy I understand. Mr. Hardgrove can read. I mean, his voice is a little scratchy, and we always need him to repeat the words during practice, but . . . I just thought if you weren’t doing . . . don’t worry. It’ll work out.”
What the hell else was she doing? Sitting on the couch, over a year after her divorce, and eating herself to death? She wasn’t at the drywall level yet, but give it a few more months and she could very well be there with Mr. What’s His Face.
“Faith, I’ll be there,” Kate had said, getting up from the couch.
Faith thanked her incessantly, and hung up.
That night had stirred something in Kate, and since then she had been the reader for many spelling bees across the city. She loved it. She wouldn’t give it up for all the Chunky Monkey in the world. These children dressed in their finest and despite insecurities, braces, poorly-fitting pants and just general adolescent angst, they got up, walked to the microphone, and gave it everything they had. They were inspiring every year. They showed her that the little things matter, and during a time in her life when she really needed it, they helped her hang on. Still did.
As thirteen-year-old Suki Bahati came up on stage to receive her trophy, Grady saw Kate stand to clap, and he too was already offering his own standing ovation in the back of the cafeteria. His sleeves were rolled up above his elbows and he was clapping and hooting. He couldn’t have cared less about the two reporters that had followed him in earlier and were now making a beeline for him. Kate turned to the crowd and saw him. He wasn’t hard to miss among the proud parents and spelling bee participants. Not a whole lot of single guys at spelling bees, which was a shame because he was having a blast.
Grady almost jogged up to the officials’ table.
“That was incredible.” He spoke directly to Kate, who was wearing her black-rimmed glasses again. The ones that conjured up a very sexy librarian fantasy he never even knew he had. “I mean, I’ve been to sporting events and been on the edge of my seat, but that was brilliant. Look at her parents, they’re beaming.”
Kate tilted her head. “Grady, what are you doing here?”
“Your assistant said you’d be here . . . ”
Suki’s parents now recognized Grady and her father approached.
Grady extended his hand. “You must be incredibly proud, Mr. . . .”
“Bahati,” Kate prompted him.
“Yes, Mr. Bahati, so proud. That was sensational to watch. Mrs. Bahati,” he gently kissed the mother on the cheek, “congratulations. So exciting.” Both parents thanked him for coming and presented their very smart, but incredibly shy daughter. At that moment the reporters made their move and stepped right in front of Suki.
“Hey, Grady. How’s the head healing? Spelling bees your thing now? I don’t think there’s an open bar, and these girls look a little underage.”
Grady had learned to mask his disdain for ignorant reporters long ago. He took a quick breath, moved around both men, and stood next to Suki and her family.
“Gentlemen, settle down. This is a school function and I’m here to congratulate Suki Bahati. Now if you’d like to take her picture with her parents that would finally be a good use of your time. I’m not the story tonight guys, but this fantastic young lady deserves some attention, as do all the spelling bee participants.” With that he winked at Suki, who smiled from ear to ear, and then he stepped aside. He didn’t shake her hand or pose for pictures like a good politician’s son would—the moment was too normal, too real for that kind of bullshit.
The reporters began asking questions about the spelling bee and took several pictures. Suki and her family would be in the paper, probably the front page, with some spin about Grady, but he didn’t care. They deserved the attention. He cupped Kate’s elbow. “You ready to make a run for it?” he asked, and began moving her slowly toward the door.
“I’d advise against running. Have you been drinking?” she asked.
He huffed, and feeling like a teenager, breathed right in her face. “See, minty fresh.”
She looked at him sideways, but he grabbed her bag and had her out the door. “And no, I have not been drinking Grey Goose either. Please, a little faith.”
“Where are we going? Better yet, why are you here?”
“Do you have your car?”
“I do,” she answered.
Grady signaled to his driver and the black Lincoln Town Car disappeared out of the school parking lot. “Great. Where does one go after a spelling bee?”
“One goes home to do one’s laundry.”
On a Friday night? Grady thought, but did not say. His expression must have given something away because Kate shot him a look.
“Something of which I’m sure you know nothing about. Let me help,” she mocked, clearly enjoying herself, “you know those clothes
that magically show up, perfectly folded in your always dust-free dresser? Laundry. That’s how they get there. I don’t have a fairy godmother, so I do it on my own. Usually on Friday nights.”
Grady was now smiling as Kate’s ears turned pink again and he could tell she was pissed at herself for sharing too much information. She shook her head and walked toward her car.
He followed her and couldn’t resist. “Wow, Kate. Your social calendar is really staggering. I’m wondering, coupon clipping on Saturday nights?”
“One more time, what are you doing here, Grady Malendar?” she asked, stopping in the middle of the now almost-empty parking lot to face him.
“I called your office, Sabrina said you left early for the spelling bee. I was intrigued, so I asked questions and stopped by. I didn’t know you were the ringleader, announcer-person.”
“Reader,” Kate replied, keeping her eyes steady. She was serious, so he stopped teasing. “Reader, right. Great job by the way.” He smiled.
“Thank you.”
“Anyway, I really got into it and before I knew it I was on my feet clapping. It was truly one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.”
“And that certainly says something, Mr. Man of the World.”
“Don’t be mean. I’m serious.”
“I can see that. It was nice of you to do that for Suki and her family. They were quite taken with you.”
“Yeah, well first impressions can be deceiving.” Kate’s look softened, but she quickly averted her eyes. He knew how she felt, because looking at each other was sometimes too much these days. “Anyway, it’s about time those vultures focused on something important, and Suki was fantastic.”
“I’m surprised. You got me. Never would I have expected Grady Malendar to see the value of, let alone enjoy, a spelling bee.”
Her words hit him, just a little, but he recovered. He couldn’t blame her—the Grady Malendar she knew so far would have never been at a spelling bee. Hell, he would never track any woman down, let alone one that did laundry on Friday night and worked for his father. That was the persona he fed people, and even though he found himself wanting to explain, he couldn’t. There was too much at stake, and while he really enjoyed Kate, he wasn’t willing to risk much these days.
Even with all of that, he was still defensive, and said,“Yeah, well you don’t know Grady Malendar, now do you?”
“I suppose I don’t. Just what I read in the papers like the rest of the plebeians.” Their eyes caught one another for just a second. “Listen, aside from the fact that we’re standing in the parking lot of a not-so-desirable part of town,” Kate said walking to her car, “I really need to get home. So, since you apparently sent your car away, get in. I can drop you . . . ” He opened her door for her and took her bag. He could tell she was taken aback, as if she was uncomfortable with anyone helping her, let alone a man. The look on her face made him feel . . . well, let’s just say that he felt like helping.
At the office she was a sophisticated, organized, pulled-uptight ball of fire. He was drawn to that, but this Kate, hair pulled back, glasses on, standing in the dim light of the parking lot—she was so genuinely vulnerable and beautiful that he was stuck for words. He wanted to reach out and touch her face, hold her . . . Shit! Grady closed Kate’s door and tried to shake some sense into himself as he rounded the back of the car.
“Hungry?” he asked, climbing into the passenger seat.
“Um . . . I could eat. Why are we always eating?”
“You must catch me with those deep blue, ‘I’m not taking care of myself or eating anything other than packaged pastry,’ eyes.”
She laughed and he was right back to staring at her every feature, trying to figure her out.
“I actually know a great place close to here,” Grady added, putting on his seatbelt.
“You know a place to eat in this part to town?”
“I do.”
“Then lead the way because this I have to see.”
Kate started the car and as she turned to back out, he said, “And for your information. I do my own laundry. It wasn’t the laundry that shocked me, Kate. It was your sad little Friday night ritual that threw me for a loop.”
Kate snickered. “I’ll bet you have a cleaning lady.”
“I do, in fact. I’m not really a toilet guy.” They turned left and headed farther downtown.
He could tell Kate was struggling to make sense of him, and he had to admit he liked the game. She drove as he navigated. Part of him reveled in the simplicity of the whole situation. No complications, options to weigh, or ramifications to consider. It was a meal with a smart sexy woman. They stopped in front of the glare of an obnoxious neon sign, and Grady couldn’t wait to share a small piece of his world with Kate. He could tell by the look on her face that she was already surprised.
“Do I want to know where we are?”
“Lulu’s Chicken and Waffles. Ever been here?” he asked, getting out of the car.
Kate opened her door before he could get around to do it for her.
“Can’t wait for me to be a gentleman, can you?” Grady asked, closing the car door for her.
“It’s weird. I never did the door thing well. Sorry.”
Grady took his coat off and draped it over her shoulders before she had a chance to refuse. She was wearing a thin white blouse and looked cold. They walked into small, old, and family-owned Lulu’s. Brandon, Lulu’s tall basketball player-looking youngest son, met them at the door, shook Grady’s hand, and seated them at a corner table. Grady asked when he was leaving for college, and Brandon explained he was heading to North Carolina in August. Grady congratulated him, and waived to Fred, one of the cooks who peeked his head out to say “Hi.” Grady loved this place, loved the family.
“Come here a lot?” Kate smiled.
“I do.” He looked at his menu.
“Grady.”
Their eyes met over the red laminated rim.
“Doesn’t really seem like your scene.”
He put the menu down. “Well, see, Kate, that’s where you’re wrong. This place has great food and even better people. This is exactly my scene. Maybe I’m sharing, Kate, helping you with your research.”
She looked playful and then ducked back behind her menu. There it was again, the pull to be himself, share his life.
“Okay, so what’s good?” Kate asked a few moments later.
Grady peeked over the menu again. “Why do you do that?”
At his question, Kate dropped her menu, looking a bit self-conscious. “Do what?”
“Bite your thumb? Is it a nerve thing or do you do it when you’re thinking?”
Kate shook her head and lifted the menu again. “I have no idea. I don’t realize I’m doing it. Why do you notice these things?”
“Of course you know you’re doing it. I mean, the tip of your thumb is by your teeth, near your mouth.”
Kate dropped the menu, this time looking frustrated. “Look, it’s late, I’m hungry. Let’s just leave it at . . . I bite my thumb when I’m thinking. I don’t actually bite it, but let’s not go round again. There, that’s why.”
“Nah, I think you only do it when you’re nervous. Are you nervous, Kate?”
“You do not make me nervous, Grady. Christ, there I go saying your name all the time.”
“It’s nice, right? Personal. I like the way you say my name, Kate.”
“Cut it out. I’m not here for your entertainment. Not all of us live the carefree wealthy bachelor life. I have thoughts, I worry and I question. That’s what people who work do. Life makes us bite our thumb sometimes. You, Mr. Games All Day Long, wouldn’t understand.”
Kate went back behind her menu while Grady tried to focus on what he was going to order, while his stomach growled at the delicious smell of fresh waffles drifting through the tiny restaurant.
Kate closed her menu and crossed her hands on top of it. “I’m having the two-piece with the collard greens and sweet tea.�
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“Excellent choice.” Grady said and then they ordered.
As they both took a sip of the most perfect sweet tea in all of California, Grady couldn’t let her last comment go.
“So let me get this straight. You grew up in a blue-collar family; you work for a living and know how to save money and balance that chip on your shoulder. You are solid and in the real world your life is incredibly complicated. I, on the other hand, was given a trust fund and therefore lack all substance and complexities? Did I get that right, Kate?”
“I didn’t say you lacked complexities.” Kate smiled. “Look, I’m just tired of you picking at me, commenting on my commoner uptight habits. You have no idea what it’s like to be me, as I know nothing about being you. We have a common goal, helping your father get elected.”
Grady laughed because sitting with her at Lulu’s, he had actually forgotten all about the election.
“Don’t we? Isn’t that the goal here?” Kate asked.
The food arrived and Grady poured syrup over his waffles.
“I suppose it is the common goal, Kate. You’re right.”
“Wow, can I get that in writing?”
Kate smiled and took a bite of her chicken.
Chapter Twelve
Kate liked Senator Malendar. She believed in him as a politician, but she knew little about him as a father. From the view in her office Kate could see Grady and the senator discussing something. While the conference room glass insulated their conversation, she could tell it was heated. Grady was seated and the senator was pacing, more agitated than Kate had ever seen him since they started working his campaign. When she first looked up their exchanges were quite animated, but now it seemed as if Grady was in a trance. He nodded as the senator, his father, leaned over the table and appeared to be right in his face. His voice was raised and Grady was staring right through him. She felt like she should do something, but she didn’t move. He was a grown man, they both were, and it wasn’t her place. Maybe that’s exactly what Grady needed, but she found herself wondering what could possibly have prompted such an outburst. Was there something she didn’t know? Had something happened?
