by M. Ullrich
That excitement didn’t translate into reality. Once they got to a bar and ordered drinks, they stared at each other blankly across the small candlelit table. The uncomfortable silence stretched on and Catherine found herself wishing an empty glass would replace the full one that sat in front of her so she’d be able to excuse herself.
“So,” Richard started, “that was some meeting.” He straightened his burgundy tie.
“Sure was.” Catherine ate the olive off the small martini pick. “One of the job hazards, I guess.”
“I have a real love / hate relationship with this job,” Richard confessed eagerly. “I enjoy what I do, but I hate having to explain it to other people, especially in a proposal that sounds a lot like ‘please trust me with your millions.’” He took a healthy swig of his scotch.
“I know what you mean,” Catherine agreed, relaxing as she treaded lightly on their singular common ground. “It’s still better than what I originally thought I’d be doing with my life.”
“And what was that?” Richard asked.
“Defense attorney,” she said. “It’s easier to convince people to trust you with their money than their lives sometimes.” She laughed at her small joke.
“You made the right choice,” he replied. “Most lawyers I know are terrible people.”
Catherine stiffened defensively.
“You’re incredibly talented in this field,” Richard said. “You’re brilliant with your numbers and very well accomplished amongst our most prestigious clients. Very impressive.”
“Thank you.” Catherine bowed her head modestly. Deep inside, she was uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. She had asked him out in hopes of getting to know him personally, not to give him the green light to kiss her ass. “Tell me more about yourself, Richard.”
“What would you like to know?” He looked at her over the rim of his glass.
“Family? Hobbies? Favorite sport?” Anything?
“Only child, parents are back in Chicago, and I’m not much of a sports guy.” He kept looking at his drink after he spoke.
This is like pulling teeth, Catherine thought as she took another sip of her still-full martini. As the silence stretched on, her thoughts strayed, and she starting thinking about plans for the next evening. She knew what she was going to wear, but Imogene hadn’t told her what she planned on wearing. No matter what Imogene chose, Catherine knew she’d look stunning. And she’d be better company than Richard. Hearing her name, Catherine felt Richard and the waiter staring at her.
“Would you like another drink?”
“No, thank you. One is enough for this lightweight.”
He gave her a small smile before ordering a refill. Catherine silently calculated how much longer that additional drink would keep her there.
Richard was a kind enough man, but painfully dull. As much as Catherine tried not to compare Richard to Imogene, she just couldn’t help herself. She hadn’t really laughed with Richard, but Imogene left her breathless with laughter. And she wasn’t attracted to Richard. She never even considered kissing him. Her belly didn’t flop with giddiness when their hands accidentally touched. Catherine knew whatever part of her decided men were easier years ago was fueled by denial. They weren’t easier. They just required less of her effort, time, and heart.
“Catherine? Are you okay?” he asked, furrowing his dark brow.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She looked at his fresh drink she didn’t remember him getting, and she wondered how long she had been daydreaming.
“You seem distracted.”
And you seem dreadfully boring was what she wanted to say in her defense, but she remembered her manners. “I have a few things on my mind.” She finished her drink in one final swallow, wincing at the burn of the alcohol.
“Let’s call it a night, then,” he said, doing the same. “And maybe next time, if you’re interested, we could do dinner instead.”
Catherine wasn’t sure she’d heard Richard correctly. It sounded as though he were asking her out on another date. Did she want to see him again in a more intimate setting? She found herself feeling flattered but unsure.
“I’ll call you.” Richard seemed satisfied with that.
Richard insisted on paying the bill for their drinks and walking Catherine to her car. They stood awkwardly in the frigid evening air. Catherine’s cheeks stung from the bitterness but she didn’t know how to end their date. Finally, for the first time that evening, Richard took the lead by extending his large, limp hand to Catherine.
On the way home, Catherine wondered if she could write it off as an expense on her taxes before remembering Richard had picked up the bill.
She walked into her condo just as the phone in her pocket started to ring. Her mood quickly brightened when she saw Imogene’s name light up the screen. “Hello?”
“Hey there.”
The sound of Imogene’s voice saved Catherine’s night. “Hey, what’s up?” she asked, holding her phone against her shoulder with her cheek as she unbuttoned her coat.
“I was just closing up for the evening and wanted to confirm everything for tomorrow one last time.”
“Meet me here at six thirty. Everything else will fall into place.” Catherine hung up her coat and unbuttoned her suit jacket. Her white blouse was next as she made her way to the bedroom.
“I feel stupid because I’m nervous, but it’s been a while since I’ve been to any sort of formal get-together.”
“Don’t feel stupid and don’t be nervous. You’ll be hanging out with friends, just dressed to the nines instead of your usual eights.” Catherine’s voice was steady and comforting, but she felt wilted.
“Are you okay? You sound tired.”
“Exhausted.” Catherine plopped her tall frame down on the foot of her bed to unlace her wing-tip oxfords. “I had a long day at the office, and I’m just getting in from drinks with Richard.”
“Blue tie guy?” Imogene asked.
Catherine smirked at the hint of surprise she caught in Imogene’s tone. “One and the same.” She rolled her tense shoulders and reminded herself to book a massage sometime in the near future.
“Like a date?”
“I guess? After an excruciatingly long and boring meeting, I needed a drink and I figured it was the perfect opportunity to get to know him.” Catherine put Imogene on speaker as she entered the bathroom and set the phone on the dark marble vanity so she could pull her hair up.
“How’d it go?”
“About as well as the meeting,” Catherine answered after a resigned sigh.
“Ouch.”
Catherine could hear Imogene’s smile in the single word she spoke. “Exactly. And he wants to see me again,” she said as she removed what little eye makeup she’d put on.
“You’re going to see him again?” The smile in Imogene’s voice disappeared.
“I don’t know,” Catherine answered dimly. “Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“Going to this fundraiser with you tomorrow night feels more like a date than any moment I spent with Richard tonight, and it hasn’t even happened yet.” A beat of silence passed, and she wondered if she’d said too much. “I’m going to get going. I need to sleep if I plan on looking better than the walking dead tomorrow.”
“Maybe I’m into that sort of thing,” Imogene said playfully.
“If you’re interested in arriving on the arm of a woman looking like a corpse, that is a request I can easily fulfill,” Catherine countered with a laugh.
“I’m looking forward to it.” Imogene’s voice purred and echoed through the black-and-white bathroom.
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening.”
“Six thirty.”
“Good night, Imogene.”
“Catherine?”
“Yes?”
“I hope it’s not a bad thing, tomorrow feeling like a date? I know I don’t mind.”
The words filled Catherine’s heart warmly; excitement ignited
every nerve ending.
“It’s a good thing, Imogene, a very good thing.”
“Good. Sweet dreams, Catherine.”
Catherine put the phone down and walked slowly to her bed. When was the last time anyone wished me a sweet anything? She fell asleep easily that night, with a small smile on her face and dreams filled by someone whose name wasn’t Richard Thorton.
Chapter Fifteen
Catherine checked the face of her oversized watch for the tenth time as she stood impatiently in the foyer of her building. It was nearing six forty, the limo was waiting, and Imogene had yet to appear. “Fashionably late” was a foreign concept to Catherine, who preferred to be “cautiously early.” She was finding being late more unnerving than her anxiety at being a proper date for Imogene. She felt ill-prepared, seeing she and Linda had never been on a formal date. She couldn’t think of any of her male suitors she wanted to emulate.
Closer to six fifty than she would have liked, Catherine heard a car door slam, and she stepped out of the foyer. She spotted Imogene rushing from her car.
“I’m so sorry I’m late! I was planning on being early because I know how important that is to you, but as I opened the front door Vixen escaped and I had to chase her around to get her back into the apartment.” Catherine opened the limousine door for Imogene as she finished her rapid-fire apology. The annoyance Catherine felt earlier melted away as she smiled at a frazzled Imogene. She slid in next to her on the leather bench seat.
“Don’t worry about it. You’re here now, so just focus on having a good time.” She fought against the surprising desire she felt to reach across the small space between them just to touch, to grab Imogene’s fidgeting hand. Catherine wanted to avoid an awkward night, so she refrained from crossing any lines. Just because she said it felt like a date didn’t mean it was a date. Catherine wished the limo had brighter lighting so she could see Imogene’s face better. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Imogene.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day to you.”
Catherine smiled at how the moonlight illuminated Imogene’s vibrant expression. They spent the short ride to their destination in a comfortable silence.
“Here we are,” Catherine announced as the limo pulled up to the curb outside a large banquet hall a little after seven. “Ready?” The driver opened their door, and Catherine slid out with grace. A moment later, she extended her gloved hand into the limo for Imogene. While her exit of the vehicle wasn’t as fluid as Catherine’s, Imogene still smiled. Catherine took Imogene’s hand and tucked it into the crook of her elbow as they walked through a large entryway. They went directly to the coat check and Catherine removed her long overcoat.
She wore a classic tuxedo with a tailored, slim, feminine cut. The flawless skin of her chest was on display thanks to the two pearl buttons she had left undone along her black silk button-up. The black-on-black color scheme combined with her height made her look stealthy and dangerous. Catherine felt sexy, and it showed in her confident gait. She watched as Imogene looked at her from her perfectly styled curls and darker-than-usual makeup to her black Louboutin heels. But she knew Imogene’s attention would be drawn to one detail—a dizzying paisley print swirl of vibrant cobalt blue and muted navy she wore in the pocket of her tuxedo jacket.
“I figured that if I was going to be next to you all night, I needed to wear at least a little color.” She grinned, but it faltered when Imogene didn’t respond. “Does it look that bad? I can take it out.” Catherine reached for the pocket square, but Imogene stopped her.
“No!” With visibly shaking hands, Imogene unbuttoned her long coat before letting it fall from her bare arms.
Imogene was wrapped tightly in a sinfully soft cobalt blue dress that matched Catherine’s pocket square perfectly. The sleeveless design had thick straps that came down to a wrapped front cut in a low V, allowing a tasteful hint of cleavage. Her small waist was accented by the tight design and the tea-length flowing skirt, which danced in the slight breeze that accompanied the opening and closing of the door.
Catherine was torn between the awe she felt at her date’s beauty and wondering whether their matching was a coincidence or not. With a small smile, Catherine extended her bent arm once again. “We may as well make it look like we did it on purpose.”
“You look wonderful, Catherine. And you know, Sophia is going to have a field day with our matching colors.”
“As do you, Miss. Harris, and not if Alice beats her to it.” Catherine chuckled as she tried to imagine the look on Alice’s face when she saw them. “If you’re my date, and we’re dressed to match, I’m going to have to insist you call me Cat.” Catherine smiled nervously down at Imogene. “Unless you feel more comfortable with Catherine.”
“I like Cat, a lot.”
Catherine didn’t think she was talking about the nickname alone, and her heart swelled with promising, budding affection. They entered the hall arm in arm, both looking pleased.
When they stepped into the throngs of people, Catherine thought the excitement of the evening was overwhelming in a pleasant way. The large ballroom was decorated tastefully but was muted enough to make the singles in the room feel comfortable as well. An open dance floor served as the room’s centerpiece, surrounded by intimately placed circular tables for three couples.
“Shall we find our table or get a drink first?” Catherine asked Imogene.
“Let’s find everyone else first.” Imogene looked around and beyond Catherine.
They both looked from full table to full table. Straight ahead from where they were standing sat Sophia and Alice with their husbands. The two men were deep in conversation and the women were looking around the crowded room.
“There they are,” Imogene said, pointing at them with her index finger. Catherine noticed her perfect French manicure, a detail so unlike Imogene and the colorful woman she was. The woman Catherine had grown so fond of.
“Let’s not make them wait.”
As they approached the table, Dennis and Chris offered quick hellos and continued their private conversation. When Catherine and Imogene settled into their seats, Sophia and Alice started to open up, talking freely about the week that had passed and how much they had been looking forward to the benefit. The conversation flowed easily as Alice shared stories of Mackenzie’s latest adventures and of Catherine’s college days. At one point, when Catherine was struggling for a breath between laughing fits, she looked over at Imogene beside her and felt a genuine contentment wash over her. She thanked her lucky stars for Imogene becoming part of her life.
“I’ll get us the next round.” Sophia stood and started to make her way to the open bar.
“I’ll come along.” Imogene stood, paused for a moment, and rested her hand on Catherine’s shoulder. “Can I get you anything, Cat?”
“I’ll have another dry, dirty martini. Thank you.” Catherine nervously looked across the table to Alice as Imogene and Sophia left. “It’s a great turnout tonight.”
“I think we should dance,” Alice said.
She’s not fooling me, Catherine thought. She prepared herself for a thorough interrogation. She would tell the truth about the coincidental matching as well as the mutual decision to play it off as planned. She’d admit to a few innocent flirtations and tell Alice she was going with the flow. That’s it. The plan was solid, and for the first time in years Catherine was okay with simply going with the flow. Tonight, she’d let Imogene take the lead.
Catherine stood in front of Alice and shifted her feet back and forth to the beat. Alice had her own way of dancing. She was far from smooth, but she smiled happily with every move. Alice smiled sugary sweet, and Catherine knew the first question was about to drop at any moment…except it didn’t. Alice continued to dance in silence with Catherine. From time to time, Alice would laugh and shake her head, but she didn’t let Catherine in on the joke.
Catherine decided to finally break the wordless tension with a compliment. “You look stunning.” She signaled t
o the strapless little black dress Alice wore.
“So do you. Very dapper,” Alice said as she fingered the lapels of Catherine’s tuxedo jacket. “I love when you break out the tux.” She then changed the subject expectedly. “Imogene is absolutely breathtaking. Looks very good on your arm, too.” She spoke loudly enough to be heard over the music. The two women stopped moving and stood awkwardly for a moment, staring each other down.
Catherine had to keep Linda a secret, but not Imogene. Not this time. She could scream her feelings from the rooftop, and she decided maybe it was time to talk to Alice. “Imogene is—”
“Mind if I cut in?” Imogene said loudly from behind Catherine, who jumped, her hand flying to her chest while Alice erupted with laughter.
“Of course not.” Catherine was still breathing rapidly as she answered.
“You two have fun.” Alice left the two alone with a wink.
They looked at one another for seconds before Imogene stepped closer and put her left hand on Catherine’s shoulder, her right grasping Catherine’s left hand. Catherine let out a shaky breath as her free hand settled on the swell of Imogene’s hip. They moved together seamlessly, Catherine naturally taking the lead.
Catherine grew more comfortable in Imogene’s arms, and the rest of the room seemed to fade away. Imogene released her grip on Catherine’s hand and wrapped her arms around her neck. Instinctively, Catherine wrapped her own arms around Imogene’s waist and pulled her flush against her body.
Catherine’s willpower was wearing thin. It was one thing to hold Imogene when she was sad and allow her to cry on her shoulder, but quite another to hold her close in an almost seductive dance. This was intimacy, an intimacy Catherine had been missing. The temptation was too strong and Catherine was too weak to keep her hands from dipping a little closer to Imogene’s rounded backside. Her head was spinning, and she prayed the music would never stop playing.
How had she denied her need for this feeling? Catherine had given up even the hope of having this again, and why? For fear of being heartbroken again? Linda Nguyen was controlling. She called all the shots and destroyed Catherine as a result, but Catherine was different now, and Imogene wasn’t Linda.
