by Jade Winters
“Don’t mention it.” Slightly flustered, Kathryn eased back into her seat as Rachel returned to her chair. Though it was brief, she liked the feel of Rachel’s arms around her. She wasn’t sure if it was her over-familiarity or the scent and touch of this woman that had her heart beat racing ten to the dozen.
As Rachel sat down, Kathryn took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, hoping it would calm her somewhat jangled nerves. After a few seconds, it seemed to be doing the trick.
“I thought most journalists were like a dog with a bone when they wanted something?” she said, finally regaining her composure.
“I’m not most journalists,” Rachel replied, still grinning broadly.
Kathryn turned her face partly away, not wanting to meet Rachel’s intense stare for fear of getting lost in it. “I gathered that.”
“Before I forget, here’s my business card,” Rachel said, retrieving a card from her bag. “Just give me a call and we can arrange something when you’re free.”
“Great, thanks,” Kathryn replied as she looked at the card, turning it over in her hand. Glancing back up at Rachel, she smiled.
“Shall we get another bottle?” Rachel asked, waving the empty bottle at her.
Though Kathryn always watched her alcohol intake and couldn’t remember the last time she had been drunk, she was enjoying herself too much to let the night come to an end. She leaned forward, slightly intoxicated. “Why not?” Kathryn was certain that if she were to look in the mirror at that moment in time there would be more than a sparkle on show —there would be fireworks.
***
The taxi drew up bedside her building as Kathryn dug into her purse for the fare. The prematurely balding young driver twisted around as she slipped a note from her purse and handed it to him.
“Keep the change.”
“Thanks,” he beamed, taking the twenty-pound note from her.
Kathryn made her way into the building and up to their apartment, letting herself in through the large oak door. The apartment was the first project she had designed, where she was in total control of everything. Gareth, a self-made millionaire, had owned the property prior to their marriage. Initially, he’d been worried when she suggested redesigning his masculine bachelor pad, which was awkwardly stark with dark colours. She wanted something with an equal amount of femininity to it — a bit of yin and yang to suit both of them. Dark colours always seemed to depress her — they reminded her too much of her childhood home. At first, Gareth had not been in favour of her drastic changes, concerned it would be at odds with the architecture and style of the building but once she had shown him her vision, he had finally agreed.
As Kathryn crept along the hallway she was startled by Gareth’s voice.
“I’m in here,” he called out.
She checked her watch before entering the living room and found him on the same chair he had been in when she’d left earlier that evening. She walked over, swaying slightly as she bent over to kiss him on his forehead.
“You’re late. Did you have a good night?” Gareth asked, folding away his newspaper.
“Yes, it was lovely. I didn’t expect you still to be up, it’s almost midnight,” she replied, shrugging off her coat and setting it down on the arm of the sofa.
“I was watching a film. How’s Jo? I’m surprised you were out so late, what with the baby.”
“Oh, yes she’s fine ... Erm, we had a lot to catch up on. Ben was looking after Marlon,” she answered, consciously trying not to appear drunk and deliberately omitting that she had not shared one drink with Jo. She felt like a naughty child, trying not to put a foot wrong for fear of upsetting her father. But surely she shouldn’t feel like that? She was a grown woman and Gareth was her husband, she shouldn’t have to walk on egg shells around him.
He rubbed his jaw slowly, eyeing her intently for a few seconds. “Do you want to watch a little TV before you go to bed?”
She looked down at the floor. “No, I’m beat.” She paused briefly. Why did I lie? I have nothing to hide. Should I tell him about Rachel and the interview? What’s the point? He would only try and talk me out of it, and I’m not going to let that happen.
She smiled inwardly, as her thoughts turned to the upcoming interview. She still didn’t know why she had agreed to it — she wasn’t normally that impulsive.
“I’ll see you when you come to bed.”
He turned his attention back to the TV. “I’ll try not to wake you.”
Thank God for small mercies. She made her way to their bedroom, aware that most women would be more than grateful to be married to a man like Gareth. Maybe she would have been if she were older and wiser when they first met but she doubted things would have been any different. Many people thought that being rich made you instantly happy. Whilst money helped in some areas of life, it certainly couldn’t make up for love. Though Gareth was an honest, hard working, intelligent man, there just wasn’t any chemistry between them and now that she had just experienced the thrill of it with Rachel, she wanted much more.
CHAPTER 4
Rachel let herself into her flat, closing the door behind her with her foot. As always, she was struck by the stillness — living on top of a funeral home had its benefits — the main one being that the people below her were dead quiet.
As she walked into the tiny kitchen, she shuddered as she noticed the pile of unwashed dishes and cups resting in the sink. What I wouldn’t do to own a dishwasher. The kitchen was shabby but clean. It only had room for a cooker, washing machine, a small sink and two cupboards barely clinging to the wall. Zoe always joked that she liked the way their minimalist kitchen looked. In reality, both women were desperate to relocate, but due to financial constraints that didn’t look like it was going to happen anytime soon.
Having found one remaining clean mug, she made herself a coffee and walked through to the living room. Setting her cup down on the coffee table, she flopped onto the sofa and retrieved her laptop from the floor. I’d better get it over with.
Logging onto the Girlz-on-Girlz website, her heart sank when she saw three messages in her inbox, all from Kathryn’s husband. She didn’t know what she was going to say to him. How could she tell him that whilst she hadn’t managed to seduce his wife she had managed to scoop the biggest interview of her career?
Knowing she couldn’t avoid replying to him, she clicked on each of his messages all written with the same desperate urgency: Did all go according to plan? Has she arranged to see you again? Please update me ASAP!
She typed back with purpose, telling him he had nothing to worry about and that his wife hadn’t taken the bait. Pressing the send button, she prayed that it would be the last she heard from him.
Now back to Kathryn. She set the computer on the floor, leaned back in the chair and gazed up at the ceiling. Her encounter with Kathryn had worked out perfectly. She’d been sitting near the entrance of the bar, waiting for her to walk in. When she saw her head to the toilet she’d followed and couldn’t believe her luck when the only other people in there, apart from Kathryn, had left as she entered. The next part was easy — it wasn’t the first time she’d used the lost earring trick to get talking to someone.
She closed her eyes as she brought up the image of Kathryn in her mind’s eye — how alluring she’d looked and so totally oblivious of her sexual appeal. She had met so many women like that, who acted as though they were asexual due to their unfulfilling sex lives.
Rachel instinctively knew Kathryn’s passion ran deep — she could see it in the depths of her eyes. It was a pity their relationship would not be going any further than the office. Stop it, just get the interview over with and move on.
Drawing herself up, she retrieved the computer and logged back into the site. As a precaution, she went into her details and deleted her account. She didn’t want to have to correspond with Kathryn’s husband again. She didn’t think he would be too happy if he ever found out that she had used their chance meeting to further her
own needs.
Not that she would blame him. Why the hell didn’t I listen to Zoe and not take part in this silly game? She wondered what Kathryn would say if she found out. There was only one solution. She must never find out. There was no reason why she had to. If she kept a low profile until she finished the interview, everything would turn out fine. She would have a great story to her credit and it would boost the magazine’s sales.
She sat up defiantly. It was too late to back out of the situation now. She couldn’t afford to let anything spoil this opportunity, not even the strong attraction she felt towards Kathryn.
***
Women’s Lifestyle Magazine was hidden in a narrow side road, a few hundred yards from the fashionable high street, Angel Road, in north London. The small, dowdy office block was situated next to an unkempt skate park, which consisted of a strip of concrete and three ramps.
“Alright, darlin’?” a gangly youth called out as Rachel made her way past. He halted on his skateboard, confidently kicking it up into his hand by tapping the tip of his foot on the tail of the board. She gave him one of her best smiles and watched as he visibly blushed. His friends gathered around to tease him, which he took good-naturedly, before dropping his board to the ground and mounting it, gathering speed and distance from his friends.
She briefly reminisced about her own childhood — being an only child, she didn’t have the luxury of living a carefree, stress-free life. After her father had walked out of their lives when she was nine, her childhood had pretty much ended. She had been responsible for caring for her mother, who had suffered from severe depression. Thankfully, those days were long behind her and she was determined to make up for all she had missed out on.
Rachel strolled the remaining distance to the office to the sound of wolf whistles. Still smiling, she pushed open the glass doors to the reception area, giving a quick wave to Debbie, a petite redhead, who was preoccupied with telling a customer on the phone how to unsubscribe from the magazine.
The next set of white, solid doors she walked through led her into an open-plan room, where twelve desks were crammed into the small office space. Eight of the desks were either being used by journalists tapping away at state-of-the-art computers or sales operatives speaking loudly into their headsets. An exasperated female voice drifted loudly above all the chatter: her boss, Gloria, bellowing at some unfortunate soul in her office at the far corner of the room. Rachel weaved her way through the maze of desks, saying brief hellos to her colleagues before hovering outside the tiny cluttered office, the door wide open.
“Look, if you don’t get this article finished on time, you’re going to have missed yet another deadline, which means I am going to be fucked, basically ....”
The young woman, Kate, tanned and softly rounded, turned pale under Gloria’s onslaught, hanging her head like a child being admonished by a headmistress.
“I’m sorry, Gloria,” Kate said in a quiet feeble voice. “I’ll work all weekend if it takes me that long and I promise I will have it here first thing Monday morning.”
Rachel watched as a look of conflict played on Gloria’s face, before seeing a brief melting of hostility.
“Okay, Monday it is, but this is your last chance, Kate. I can’t work with unreliable people.” She waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal.
“Thanks, Gloria,” Kate said quickly as she backed away to the doorway. “Hi, Rachel,” she muttered, not meeting her eyes, before scurrying back to her desk.
Gloria let out a long sigh. “Hi, babe, come in, shut the door behind you.” One finger played unconsciously with the ends of her twisted, dark hair. Her chocolate brown eyes followed Rachel as she sat opposite her.
“That was a bit harsh, wasn’t it?” Rachel said, a little surprised at her abruptness. Gloria was normally the most laidback of people. She was usually gentle, serenely wise and even tempered. That was one of many reasons why Rachel was thrilled to have her as a boss.
“No, Rach, I’ve just had it with people taking the piss. Every week she has an excuse — the kids are ill, the fish died,” she said, mimicking Kate’s voice. “If things carry on the way they are, we’ll all be out of a job.”
“Are things that bad?” Rachel asked, shrugging off her olive-green leather jacket and hanging it on the back of her chair.
“Worse than bad, I’m afraid. If we don’t score something big soon, we’re going to go under.”
Sadness and defeat filled Gloria’s eyes. Rachel knew how much the magazine meant to her. Gloria and her husband had put every last penny they had into the business to keep it afloat. Rachel had known things were bad but she hadn’t realised they had hit rock bottom.
“Well, I may have just the thing to cheer you up,” Rachel said, leaning forward. “I went out last night.”
Gloria grimaced. “Oh yeah, what unlucky soul have you managed put under your spell this time?”
“Now, now, Gloria,” Rachel chided playfully, “I think even you aren’t going to believe me when I tell you who she is.”
“Right, and who would that be?” Gloria asked, her tone heavy with sarcasm.
Rachel lowered her voice, being purposely mysterious. “Kathryn Kassel.”
“What!”
“Yep,” she replied.
“You can’t be talking about the Kathryn Kassel!”
“The one and only, and she’s agreed to be interviewed.”
Rachel could see the excitement in Gloria’s eyes as she stood and quickly manoeuvred her way around her desk, grabbing Rachel’s hands and pulling her up from her seat. “Please tell me you’re not having me on; you wouldn’t be that mean to me, would you?”
“Nope, it’s true; she’s agreed to let me interview her.”
“Oh sweet Jesus, thank you,” Gloria said, wringing her hands together as she looked up. “How? When?”
“I met her in a bar last night.”
Gloria’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding me ... she’s ... but I thought she was married to some hot shot architect.”
“She is, and she isn’t gay. I met her in a straight bar.”
“Like that means anything,” Gloria muttered under her breath.
“Oi, you.” Rachel laughed.
“So what’s the plan?”
“Well, she’s going to call me to arrange a time to go over to her office.”
Gloria began to prowl the floor of the small room. “Listen,” she said quickly, taking Rachel by the shoulders, “if we play this right, this could be the exact catalyst we need to put this magazine into the big league. No one, and I mean no one, has managed to get an interview with her in years.”
“I know,” Rachel agreed, nodding her head. “So what are you thinking?”
“Do you think she would let you do a bigger story than just an interview?”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Well,” Gloria said, rubbing her hands together, a sheen of perspiration suddenly evident on her dusky brown skin. “What if you asked her if you could spend some time with her whilst she worked on one of her projects? You know, give the reader a real sense of what being an interior design entails.”
“Hmmm.” Rachel pushed her hair away from her face. “I s’pose that would be a good idea.”
“No, it’s a brilliant idea. No one has ever gotten this close to seeing how she works or how she comes up with her designs. Nothing, zilch. Come on, Rachel, let’s see some enthusiasm here!”
“I am.” As much as she wanted to celebrate their good fortune, she didn’t want to tempt fate. Kathryn had only agreed to a bog standard interview. She didn’t know what she would say about having Rachel hanging around, watching her every move. From what she could tell from meeting Kathryn the night before, she was a very private person and Rachel didn’t want to overstep the mark.
“Yes, well, all she can say is no, and I doubt she would say it to you, what with all your charm and all.” Gloria smiled sweetly at her. “Even I wouldn’t mind having you to look
at all day and I’m happily married, for God’s sake.”
Rachel laughed. “I don’t think Tony would appreciate hearing you say that.”
“Oh, Tony’s just an insecure drama queen,” Gloria said affectionately, taking a few seconds to look at the large framed photograph of him on her desk. “We’ve been together for ten years and he still thinks I’m going to leave him, for who, I don’t know. If I’m not working here, I’m at home.”
“Well, you are a catch, Gloria,” Rachel said, speaking directly to her boss’s ego.
“Why thank —”
Gloria was cut short by the sound of Rachel’s mobile phone ringing — she held up her hand, motioning her to be quiet. “It’s an unknown number,” she said, smiling, “I think this might be her.”
“Eager much?” Gloria grinned.
Rachel ignored her and flipped open her mobile phone. “Rachel speaking,” she answered in a professional voice.
“Hi, Rachel, it’s Kathryn.”
“Hi, Kathryn,” Rachel said, looking at Gloria, who was staring back, her eyes wide in anticipation. “How’re you feeling today?”
“Not too bad considering the amount we drank last night. How about you?”
“Good, thanks.” Rachel had found a way to beat hangovers years ago — a litre of water and two aspirin before she went to bed normally did the trick.
There was a brief silence.
“So I was calling to see if you were still interested in interviewing me?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I am,” she said, nodding her head vigorously even though Kathryn couldn’t see her. “Just let me know when it’s best for you and I’ll be there.”
Gloria looked as if she was going to burst a blood vessel. She thrust her face toward Rachel and hissed impatiently, “Ask her.”
“Actually, um I wondered if ... you, um, would be willing to let me do a longer piece on you?” Rachel held her breath, waiting for her response.
“What did you have in mind?”