CHAPTER 58
After a month of living in New York, Stephanie felt like she really belonged there. She’d finally moved into Nick’s bedroom, much to the unending and annoying protests of his sister, and things seemed to be going well. There was only one thing that needled at her, and it was hearing Kate’s name. It was unavoidable, of course, being the twit’s publisher. But still, Stephanie wanted to know what it would be like to live in a world without Kate Mitchell.
Nick was still asleep when Stephanie woke up. He had gotten home around two a.m. after working on the final details of the stores. Nick was a perfectionist, something Stephanie wasn’t. It wasn’t that she was not a fan of great work, but you know, perfectionism had its limits.
From what Stephanie could tell Kate was a perfectionist like Nick, which made Steph’s stomach tie up in an endless, hot knot. Aside from this always-striving-for-perfectionism nature, Stephanie hated Kate for other reasons; most of them she knew were selfish. Although misguided, she did care about Nick beyond his money and obvious celebrity allure. Nick had been a wreck after Kate had left him high and dry. He became a different man, and all she could do was stand by and watch him almost disintegrate under the loss. Stephanie truly hated seeing what the breakup had done to him. She’d even taken on a few extra shifts to keep the place going because Nick was there, but not there, and some things weren’t getting done. It was unlike Stephanie to do that, but the extra money helped. Seeing how Nick suffered triggered some instinct she didn’t even know she had. Kate’s leaving had nearly killed him. If it hadn’t been for his stores and, to her chagrin, his sister, Stephanie was sure it would have.
Now he was here, back in New York, and she had seen Kate with Nick in at the opening of that damned library. Stephanie had spied the clippings from the grand opening Nick had left on his dresser. Now, to make matters worse, there was all this buzz around his sister’s book thanks to Kate the Great, who was going to great lengths to make sure Vivienne’s book got tons of attention. It made her want to scream. Steph pushed herself out of bed.
May as well get in a workout, she thought. She stood up and pulled on her satin robe that hugged her curvaceous body in all the right places, which was exactly the reason she bought it.
Stephanie walked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to make coffee, grateful that Nick’s annoying sister wasn’t up yet. Stephanie had hoped that Vivienne would realize that she was a fifth wheel and move out, but then Nick closed on a new apartment in The Village. When she and Nick moved, along came the twit. Steph hit the button and the coffeemaker started brewing. She walked back into the bedroom to get her gym clothes and Nick stirred.
“Morning, Baby,” she smiled and dropped her robe. Nick had come in too late for anything other than sleep last night, but maybe she could postpone her morning routine and interest him in a little sex. Men never turned down sex. Well, except for Nick. When work needed to be done, sex could wait. He was ridiculously dedicated to his job and his damned stores.
“Morning.” Nick’s voice was heavy with sleep. “I’m sorry if I woke you last night. I didn’t mean to get home so late. There’s just a lot to be done before we open.”
Stephanie sat down on the edge of the bed naked. She threw him one of her best sexy smiles. Nick smiled back at her. He knew her “look.”
“Maybe later,” he reached out a hand and touched her. “I need to get up and meet with the event planner for the open house.”
Stephanie shrugged.
“Your loss,” she winked and then asked, “Where is the door pass thingy for your gym?”
Nick rested back onto his pillows. “The keycard? It’s in my wallet in my pants.”
He started to get up.
“No, don’t worry, I can get it,” she smiled.
Stephanie walked over to his pants and lifted his wallet.
“Back compartment, where I keep my bills.”
She dug around and finally found the keycard. When she pulled it from the wallet, something else fell out.
It was a picture of him and Kate. Stephanie stared at it for a moment like it was on fire. Wishful thinking? Then she dropped the wallet and threw the picture on the bed.
Nick wasn’t sure what to say. He’d honestly forgotten it was in there.
“You know, I get that you loved her a lot. I get that the two of you were going to get married, but you’re with me now. Can’t you just let her go? I am so sick of Kate-the-wonderful being thrown in my face.” Stephanie grabbed her gym clothes and slammed the bathroom door.
Nick sat on the bed, staring at the picture. Kate stared back up at him, smiling. It was a photo taken in Santa Monica at the pier. An older couple had been walking by, and Nick asked them to take the picture.
“My fiancé,” he’d smiled and said, “We just got engaged yesterday.” Nick and Kate were both beaming.
The older man took the picture with Nick’s phone. Nick had to show him how to use it.
The older man said, “Your fiancé is a stunner; you two look so in love. My wife and I were commenting on that just a while ago.”
“How long have you two been married?” Nick had asked.
“Fifty-four wonderful years. I would be lost without her.” The man’s eyes lit up when he talked, and Nick was certain that someday—fifty-four years from that day—he and Kate would be on the pier, walking hand in hand, still as in love then as they had been that day.
That was long ago and pretty damned far away. Kate had moved on and he was moving on now, too. Leaving that picture in his wallet had been an honest mistake. He had forgotten it. Or had he?
The bathroom door flew open and Stephanie—possibly the only female on the planet who actually looked fantastic in spandex—walked out. A cloud of “I’m still pissed at you” hovered around her.
Nick jumped out of bed. “Stephie, I’m sorry. Really. I totally forgot that was in there. I swear.”
She threw him her signature pout. “I’m tired of this, Nick. She’s everywhere. She’s your sister’s publisher. She’s here in New York. I feel like I’m just second fiddle to this iconic woman who ripped up your life.” Stephanie walked out of the bedroom into the hall and Nick followed her. When he reached her, he grabbed her arm.
“I know. I get it and I’m sorry. I’m over her. Here, take this and do whatever you want with it.” Nick handed her the picture. Stephanie yanked it out of his hand and looked at it for a moment. Kate’s smiling face made her want to vomit.
Vivienne, who had heard the ruckus, watched them from her room.
Stephanie looked at Nick. “You’re serious? I can do anything with this?” She held it up with both hands, ready to rip it in two.
Nick felt a tiny flinch. Damn it.
Stephanie’s voice grew watery. “I can tell from your face, Nick. I can see it in your eyes.”
For Christ’s sake, what the hell was he doing anyway? He grabbed the picture out of her hand and tore it in two. He tossed the torn photograph on the floor. Kate’s face smiled up at him.
“I’m sorry, Stephie.” He moved towards her and took her hands, then he pulled her closer and kissed her on the mouth. “Let me make it up to you, tonight. Dinner, just the two of us. Someplace fabulous.”
Stephanie sighed, the pout still ever-present. “Don’t you need to work?”
“I do, but I’ll make time for you.”
She smiled and Nick knew that had been a good call. The stores had consumed him, and it was time that he made time for the things that were important—like his life.
“Well, I’m off to the gym,” she smiled, pecked him on the cheek, and then turned and walked out the door.
“You okay, Nick?” Vivienne asked, walking towards him.
“You heard all of that?”
His sister nodded.
“I’m a ridiculous man sometimes. I don’t know what the hell that picture was still doing in my wallet. She had every right to be upset.”
Vivienne bent down and picked up the two
pieces. “Want me to tape these back together?” There was the hint of sarcasm in her voice.
Nick grabbed them out of her hand. “Not you, too! I’m done with this. It was an accident.” He walked over to the trash and dropped them in.
“I’m going to see if I can grab another hour of sleep. Try to keep it down, would you?” Nick was pissed, but not at his sister—at himself. The picture should have been tossed ages ago. He flopped back in bed.
He hadn’t seen or heard from Kate in a month, not since the opening of the creative center. Now his shops were about to open, and soon he’d be on his way back to California.
Distance was a good thing.
CHAPTER 59
Kate almost fumbled the dishes, sending them crashing to the floor. Thankfully, she caught them in time and set them safely on the dinner table. Her mind teased her with a million thoughts; she was sure she’d forgotten something.
She ran through the list in her head. Chicken roasting? Check. Risotto cooking? Check. Oops, better make sure the heat isn’t on high. Check. Wine? Check.
Wine, hmm, she thought and walked over to the refrigerator, grabbed the bottle, and opened it. They had plenty for ten people, although there were only three of them. No one would miss a glass or two before dinner. Tonight, Grace and Mac were going to sit at the same table, share a meal, and hopefully one or both of them would not end up in the emergency room. Mac was out getting the dessert. Grace had initially suggested they go get Korean at their favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant, but Kate insisted they do this right.
Also, she wanted this in an environment she could control.
Grace’s reasons for not liking Mac were out of concern for her friend. She’d also had some family history with infidelity. Her mother had had an affair with a married politician who was Grace’s real father, although she’d never met him. Her mother had loved the man to her dying day, even though the politician in question had moved on as soon as he found out his lover was pregnant. He had dropped Grace’s mother like radioactive waste. Gone were the weekend trips to Paris and sneaking out to his country home for a lovers’ tryst. It was all over with one trip to the doctor, and Grace’s mother was left pregnant and alone. She’d married a local boy and loved him as best he could. He was, in every way that mattered, Grace’s father, and she adored him.
Kate stood in the kitchen and sipped her wine. She could feel tendrils of it calming her senses. She knew that both Grace and Mac would be on their best behavior, but since neither had ever spent more than five minutes with the other, Kate wasn’t really sure what to expect. She wanted more than anything for them to be friends, but she knew the most she could hope for was cordial acquaintances.
It was very unlike how Grace had responded to Nick. They were almost buddies from the first moment Grace met him. Nick had even flown Grace out to surprise Kate after she left New York and moved to California. Kate sipped more of her wine and did her best to shove that memory as far away as she could. She stirred the risotto and checked the chicken, just as Mac walked through the front door.
“Look who I found downstairs!” Grace walked in behind him, her smile tentative. Grace and Mac alone in an elevator with no witnesses? Kate felt like she should check them both for bruising, or maybe stab wounds.
“Katie, you look fabulous, and the place smells amazing.” Grace walked over and kissed her on the cheek. “I didn’t kill him. Aren’t you proud?” she whispered in her ear.
Kate took another sip of wine.
“I’d love some!” Grace smiled, “I can’t let you have all the fun.”
Mac walked into the kitchen and set down the box of pastries he’d picked up from Maison Kayser, one of the newest and hottest French bakeries in the city.
“I’ll pour it, Grace. Have a seat. Kate, why don’t you let me finish up here?” Mac kissed her on the cheek, then smiled. “You look amazing.”
Was it Kate’s imagination, or did he say that a bit loud—maybe loud enough for Grace to hear?
“Grace, you haven’t seen the apartment, have you?” Kate asked.
“I have not, and I’d love a tour.” Grace took the glass of wine Mac handed her. He took one for himself and took a long sip as he watched the girls head off to tour their apartment.
“We love this living room,” Kate said. It’s so open and light, and over here is the office that Mac and I share.”
They walked into the office and Kate pinned Grace with a stare. She asked quietly, “Were you nice to him in the elevator? You didn’t say anything about Paris, did you?”
Grace held her hands up; one had her wine glass in it. She was careful not to spill.
“No. I told you I wouldn’t and I didn’t. We talked about the weather.” Grace threw her a devilish smile.
“Mac will kill me if he knows I told you.”
“Why? I mean, unless he’s ashamed of going.”
Kate started walking out of the office and spun around. “Don’t start,” she said, her voice brittle.
Kate showed her the rest of the apartment. When the tour was over, they came back to the dining room to find Mac setting the chicken on the table. Kate had used a recipe that Mac had gotten from his mother years ago. It was his favorite. Since he was leaving the day after tomorrow for Paris, Kate figured it would be a nice gesture and a nice send off—or whatever it was called when you take your dying ex-wife to Paris.
Kate sighed.
Mac turned to her, “Katie, you okay?”
After a pause she said, “I’m fine. Can I help?”
“No, you ladies sit down; I’ve got this well in hand.”
Kate had to admit, Mac looked great in the kitchen.
Their dining room table was rectangular—rustic modern, made from heavy oak. It was a French farmhouse design with worn wood and rounded edges. Grace had helped Kate pick it out. It felt casual but dressy at the same time.
Kate sat on one side, leaving the head of the table for Mac. Grace sat across from her. The conversation started to flow as did the wine, and Kate was well aware that she was now just about to finish her second glass. She needed to keep her faculties about her and slow it down, just in case she had to step in and stop an argument or a fistfight. But to her surprise they both kept the conversation light, and Mac carefully steered away to stay away from tricky topics like Vivienne’s book. That would inevitably lead to talking about Nick or his stores or whatever, and Mac knew Grace always favored Nick. Mac also stayed away from talking about Carolyn and his time in California, because that was just full of landmines.
“We need another bottle of wine,” Mac said, scooting his chair back. As he walked past Kate, he kissed her on the top of her head. Kate appreciated that Mac—although always affectionate—was sort of heaping it on for Grace’s sake. He was also slightly on edge. That was saying a lot, because nothing made Mac nervous. Even when they’d met her parents, he hadn’t been nervous at all.
Grace sipped her wine and said, “So I know you think I never go out, but I had a date last night.” Grace threw Kate a tentative smile.
“Really? How did it go?”
Mac returned with the wine. “Yeah, tell us about him.”
Grace took a long sip. “Well, he was nice, and then I found out he was seeing this other girl and has been for a while. I guess they had a fight and he decided to go slumming and found me.”
“I’m sure that’s not what happened,” Mac said, picking at his risotto. “Are you sure he’s dating someone else?”
“Very,” Grace said firmly. “Jeff, the guy at my tea shop, saw us and told me. He’s been with this girl for a year, and they had some big fight.”
“Oh Grace, I’m sorry.”
Kate reached out her hand as she heard Mac say, “Grace, look. I mean, maybe he has his reasons. Maybe they broke up or he’s not interested in her anymore.”
Grace turned slowly and looked at him. She wasn’t smiling. “Mac, I’m pretty sure he’s in a relationship.”
Mac sipped hi
s wine. Kate had an odd lurch in the pit of her stomach.
Mac continued, “Well, I know, but I mean, maybe he has his reasons.”
“Reasons?” Grace’s voice had an unmistakable sting to it that Kate knew all too well.
“Yeah, I mean guys do stuff. If you liked him, you should give it another try.”
A tremor of fear crept up her spine. And there it was. Kate could feel it. The train had left the station and was now barreling down the tracks.
She emptied her glass.
“Let’s talk about something else,” she said, her words almost stumbling out of her mouth. She tried to sound cheerful, but she was pretty sure she just sounded like she had a speech impediment.
“So, Mac, you think I should give him another try or maybe try to win him away from the girlfriend?” Grace scowled.
Mac shrugged, “Well, I don’t know. Look, stuff happens. Relationships end. Don’t judge people so harshly, Grace.”
Oh, God.
“Oh, right. So I should just keep seeing him and see what happens?”
“Look, it’s not easy being single. I get it.” Mac’s voice was edgy and impatient.
“How do you know, Mac? I mean, how do you know that it’s not easy being single? When was the last time you were single?” Grace set down her fork. She narrowed her eyes at him and then looked away in distaste.
Mac jammed a hand through his hair. “Christ, Grace. This isn’t about me. I was just saying I know that it’s hard to be single. Hook up with the guy. See what happens.”
The train, which had been careening down the tracks, slammed into a wall sending shards of glass and metal into the air. Kate felt the twist in her stomach turn into a seize.
“Hook up? I should just hook up?” Grace tossed her head back and emptied her glass.
Then she threw Mac a look that said, I’d like to disembowel you now. Can you hand me your knife so we can get started?
Then she said, “Sort of like you, Mac? Maybe I should just take a page from your playbook.”
Climax: The Publicist, Book Three Page 23