Only His (Hqn)

by Susan Mallery

  “The Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort,” he said, relieved they weren’t at the same hotel. He was in town. A safe distance from Cat.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, he thought. It was that he didn’t trust himself. There were too many memories.

  “Travel is exhausting,” she said, leaning back in her seat. “The public is so demanding. You remember what it was like. There is never any rest. Always something to be doing. The French government has commissioned a piece and I’m at a loss. There is so much beauty there already. What can I give them that shows my brilliance and yet pleases them.”

  “You worry about what your audience thinks?” he asked. That was new.

  She lowered her sunglasses so he could see the startling green of her eyes. The way the corners crinkled in amusement. “No, but sometimes I pretend I do.”

  “That’s the Cat I know,” he said before he could stop himself.

  “Did you think I’d change?” She looked out the window. “I spent the summer in South America. In the rain forest. The native people there are at one with nature. I learned so much from them—spiritually. I had thought perhaps butterflies for inspiration. Did you know there are butterflies who fly thousands of miles every year? They migrate. I was impressed, but they didn’t inspire me as much as I had hoped.”

  She turned back to him. “You’ve been following my career?”

  “It’s hard not to read about you,” he said, dodging the question. Honestly, he did his best to avoid all things Cat.

  “I imagine it is. So much of my life is interesting to the press. You can’t know what it’s like to want to be like everyone else. To be normal. To walk to a grocery store without being hounded every step.”

  “You want to go to a grocery store? Why?”

  She smiled. “Perhaps not a grocery store, but you know what I mean. Being so famous and talented is difficult.”

  “Your life is pain.”

  She sighed and leaned against him. “I knew you would understand.”

  Obviously the irony of his statement had been lost on her. Not surprising. But what was different was that the feel of her weight against him wasn’t distracting. He had no urge to put his arm around her or pull her close. Sure, she was beautiful, but so what?

  He sat there, inhaling the familiar perfume and carefully probing his heart. The cliché that the opposite of love wasn’t hate but indifference suddenly made sense. He didn’t want Cat. He wasn’t interested in her. She was someone he used to know. Given the choice between getting naked with Nevada and the woman next to him, the decision was easy. Making love with Nevada had been pure pleasure with a big dose of fun. Mostly because he liked her.

  That was it, he realized. He liked Nevada. She was someone he enjoyed talking to and spending time with. He’d never liked Cat. He’d been infatuated with Cat, nearly possessed by his desperation to be with her. But liking her hadn’t ever been part of their story.

  He felt like Scrooge at the end of A Christmas Carol, when the old man found out he hadn’t missed Christmas at all. That he still had time to redeem himself.

  Of course now he wasn’t alone with Cat. He would want to make sure that he still felt the same when it was just the two of them. But breathing just got a whole lot easier.

  “What are you so happy about?” she asked, looking up at him.

  “I’m a happy guy.”

  They arrived at the hotel. One of the bellmen stepped up quickly to open the door and Cat slid out.

  Although Tucker was right behind her and saw what happened, he couldn’t have explained it. As soon as Cat straightened and smiled, people came running. Two more bellmen appeared and pushed each other in an attempt to be the one to escort her into the hotel. Three members of the staff rushed toward Cat and welcomed her. A small, frightened little man with round glasses and pale, trembling hands joined the group.

  “Ms. Stoicasescu, Ms. Stoicasescu, how are you? Are you feeling all right? Did the journey tire you?”

  Cat smiled at the hotel staff, chose the arm of the tallest, youngest bellman and sniffed at the little man.

  “Herbert, is my suite arranged? I’m exhausted.”

  “Of course,” the little man said, nearly bowing as she walked by. “I have seen to everything.” The man glanced at Tucker. “Are you Mr. Janack?” he asked.

  Tucker nodded.

  “I’m Herbert, Ms. Stoicasescu’s assistant. She told me that she’s looking forward to you joining her for dinner this evening. Along with Ms. Hendrix. I’ve made reservations.”

  Tucker thought about pointing out that Fool’s Gold wasn’t a reservation kind of town but figured the poor guy was dealing with enough.

  “I have plans for tonight,” Tucker said with a drawl, enjoying his newfound sense of being his own man.

  “But you’re expected.” Herbert sounded both afraid and horrified.

  “Cat’ll have to learn to live with the disappointment,” he said and flagged a cab.

  “But, Mr. Janack…”

  Tucker ignored the little man, climbed into the back of the cab and started whistling.

  “TELL ME WHY WE’RE HERE,” Dakota said, following Nevada down a hallway at the Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort.

  “You’re here because you love me,” Nevada told her. “I’m scared to be with Cat by myself.”

  “Why?” Montana asked. “She’s a brilliant, world-famous artist. She must be fascinating.”

  “You’d think she was,” Nevada said with a sigh. “And in some ways she is. But in others…not so much.”

  She didn’t have a better answer to why they were there, because she couldn’t figure out what she was doing there. One second she’d been back at her house, thinking that she needed wine and a bubble bath. The next the phone had rung, it had been Cat saying she desperately wanted to see Nevada, and that it would be a “girls only” evening. Nevada had tried to refuse, but she’d found herself saying yes, compelled by a force she couldn’t explain or, apparently, ignore.

  “Cat is like nature. You can try to go on about your day, as if nothing is happening, but she wins in the end,” Nevada told them.

  “That sounds intimidating,” Montana admitted.

  Dakota studied the names next to the various doors. They were by the main ballroom, but in a hallway that was new to them all.

  “What am I looking for?” Dakota asked.

  “The private dining room.”

  They separated, walking in different directions down the long hallway. The thick carpeting muffled their steps.

  “Here it is,” Montana called. “The private dining room.” She pointed to the sign on the wall by a double door. “That’s really what it says.”

  Nevada and Dakota joined her.

  “Do we knock or just go in?” Dakota asked in a whisper.

  “I haven’t a clue,” Nevada admitted, then decided to compromise. She knocked once and pushed the door open, doing her best not to remember that the last time she’d done that, she’d ended up seeing her mother naked and having sex on the kitchen table.

  This time, however, the surprises were all good. The dining room was spacious, with a table set for four in the center and sofas lining the walls. There was a bar, French doors leading to a private garden and piped-in music.

  Two servers, both good-looking guys in their twenties, smiled at them.

  “Ladies,” the taller, blond one said. “Ms. Stoicasescu will join you shortly. She said to welcome you.”

  He held out a tray with four glasses of champagne on it.

  Dakota whimpered. “This is so unfair.” She turned to the server. “I’m pregnant and can’t have alcohol. Is there another choice?”

  “Of course.”

  He offered Montana and Nevada champagne, then put down the tray and led Dakota to the bar, where he showed her an assortment of juices and soda. The second server approached with a tray of appetizers.

  “Ladies.”

  Montana took a prosciutto-wrapped melon
ball while Nevada picked up a miniquiche.

  “Delicious,” Montana said after she’d chewed and swallowed.

  Nevada nodded, still eating her quiche. Cat might be a pain, but she knew how to throw a party.

  Fifteen minutes later both Nevada and Montana were on their second glass of champagne and the three of them had made a serious dent in the appetizers. Just when Nevada had nearly forgotten why they were there, the doors opened and Cat swept into the room.

  She’d changed into white wool trousers and a white fine-gauge sweater that slipped off one perfect shoulder. Her hair was loose and wavy, her makeup fresh, her diamond-and-pearl earrings large enough to be equal in value to the GDP of a small third world country. She looked like the kind of person who traveled with her own personal spotlight.

  “You came,” she said with such delight that Nevada felt guilty for trying to refuse.

  Cat walked toward her, hands outstretched. Nevada put down her champagne, then awkwardly took the other woman’s hands in hers.

  Cat beamed. “Did I tell you how much I’ve missed you? I have. Desperately.”

  She sounded so sincere, Nevada found herself wanting to apologize for their long separation. Cat stepped close and hugged Nevada again, her arms holding her close for a second longer than Nevada expected. When Cat moved back, she turned to Nevada’s sisters.

  “I’m delighted you’re joining me tonight. Thank you so much for coming.”

  Dakota and Montana exchanged a look.

  “Thank you for asking us,” Dakota said.

  Nevada introduced her sisters.

  “Triplets,” Cat said, clapping her hands together. “That must have been fun growing up.” She took a glass of champagne and sipped. “Did Nevada tell you who I am?” She smiled. “Some people don’t know who I am at first. Then when they do find out, they feel silly for not recognizing me. I think it’s easier to just say it all up front. No confusion.”

  The statements were amazingly self-absorbed, Nevada thought. Yet with Cat saying them, they seemed exactly right.

  “Are you hungry?” Cat asked. “Can we talk before dinner? Would you mind?”

  “Um, sure,” Montana said. “That would be fine. We’ve been eating the appetizers. They’re really good.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  Cat walked toward the sofas against the wall, then paused and furrowed her pale brow. “Oh, if only two of the sofas faced each other,” she said, sounding disappointed.

  Instantly the servers leapt into action, pulling one sofa around so it was across from the other with only a slender table in between.

  “How perfect.” She blessed the young men with a smile.

  The four of them settled on the couches. Cat insisted Nevada sit next to her, then sipped her champagne and studied the triplets.

  “I see differences,” she said. “In the light, there are minor shifts in structure and color.” She touched Nevada’s chin and turned her head slightly. “Maybe a hint in the profile. I’ve never been one to sculpt people, but there is something very special about the three of you.”

  She dropped her hand. “I’m entering my feminine period.”

  The words sounded more like an announcement than a moment of casual conversation. Nevada blinked, not sure what they were supposed to say to that.

  Dakota recovered first. “How nice.”

  Cat beamed. “Yes, it is. Until now, I’ve considered my inspiration to be either male or androgynous. But the earth is female and we all come from her. Dust to dust, as they say in the Bible. Now I see the possibilities of female energy. I would love to sculpt you three together.”

  She closed her eyes and swayed slightly. “Yes, I can see it. So beautiful and perfect. Larger than life, of course. Your three bodies draped across each other.”

  Montana choked. “Bodies?”

  “Mmm.” Cat opened her eyes. “Naked. That would be best.”

  Dakota’s eyes widened. “I don’t think so, but thanks for asking.”

  “What she said,” Montana added quickly.

  Cat turned to Nevada. “Then maybe just you.”

  Nevada managed to swallow the mouthful of champagne before she spoke. “I’m busy that day.”

  Cat only smiled.

  She waved away the tray the server brought by. “If I remember correctly, the three of you grew up in this town. Is that right?”

  “Yes,” Nevada said, surprised she would recall anything that specific.

  “It’s charming. I can see why you like it here. Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a home. Restful. The familiar heals us, don’t you think? Perhaps I should talk to a real estate agent. Do you know one?”

  She directed the question to Montana, who nodded frantically. “Um, sure.”

  Nevada did her best not to choke or run screaming into the night.

  Cat nodded. “I travel constantly, driven by forces I can’t control. Searching for my next inspiration. Once I know what I’m doing, I work fanatically. It’s exhausting.”

  Nevada had seen Cat work. The hours were grueling, as was the physical task of moving sheets of metal into place. While she sometimes had men helping her with the heaviest pieces, she handled most of it herself.

  “Are you close?” Cat asked her. “You and your sisters?”

  “Yes. We’ve always been close.”

  “When our brothers finally went to college, we still shared a room,” Montana told her. “We didn’t want to be apart. By the time we went to college, we were ready to be in different schools. Being separate was hard, but good for us.”

  Cat leaned forward, as if interested. “No matter what, you’ll have each other. That’s a true gift. I don’t have many friends. I’m not a very good friend myself. Some of it is my schedule. Some of it is how I work. I give myself over to whatever I’m doing. I can be unavailable for weeks at a time. My brilliance is demanding.”

  She turned to Nevada, tears in her eyes. “Sometimes I get so lonely.”

  Nevada instinctively touched her arm. “I’m sure you do.”

  Cat drew in a shaky breath. “I should probably cut myself off from people. It’s not right to let them believe I’m like them. I can never be like them. But they’re drawn to me.” She turned to Dakota. “I’m very transcendent.”

  Nevada drew back her hand and didn’t know if she should burst out laughing or simply run for the door.

  EVENTUALLY THEY MOVED to the table and dinner was served.

  Cat focused on Dakota and Montana, asking questions as if she were sincerely interested, then managed to switch the conversation back to herself. Nevada thought it was quite the trick. Even though she did her best to figure out how Cat did it, the other woman was too practiced.

  “Do you have pictures of your daughter?” Cat asked.

  Dakota pulled out her phone and pushed a few buttons.

  “She’s a jewel. You’re so lucky. A baby on the way and this little angel.”

  “I’m very grateful,” Dakota said.

  “I would make beautiful babies.” Cat handed back the phone and turned to Montana. “I couldn’t help but notice your diamond ring.”

  Montana held out her left hand and laughed. “I know it’s kind of big, but Simon was insistent.”

  “The perfect man,” Cat told her.

  “He is,” Nevada said. “He’s exactly who Montana needed and she certainly saved him.”

  “No one for you?” Cat asked her.

  “No.”

  She thought about the time she and Tucker had spent in the trailer that afternoon, but told herself not to read too much into it. So far Cat hadn’t mentioned him, but that didn’t mean anything. For all Nevada knew, Tucker was upstairs waiting in Cat’s bed.

  The thought and the visual that went with it stabbed her in the stomach. She took a deep breath and told herself to get through the evening. She would deal with the Cat–Tucker issue later.

  “I don’t have anyone, either,” Cat said. “There are men, of course. E
verywhere. But no one is special. I’m beginning to think I’m chasing a rainbow. I’ll never find my pot of gold.”

  She picked up her glass of wine. “When Nevada and I met in Los Angeles we had so much fun together. I remember that Hollywood party we went to. Do you?”

  “Yes.” She glanced at her sisters. “I was completely out of my element. There were plenty of famous people and I kept expecting someone to ask me what I thought I was doing there.”

  Cat smiled at her. “You were charming. It’s hard for me to trust people, but I trusted you right away. You were a good friend and I never forgot that.”

  Nevada found herself oddly touched by the admission, even as she wasn’t completely sure she believed it. Who was the real Caterina Stoicasescu? The proud, narcissistic artist who did her best to suck all the oxygen from the room, or the beautiful, slightly tragic woman who lived her life very much alone?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  THE DOOR TO THE BAR opened and two couples walked in. Jo scowled at them. The place was already crowded. Could they go somewhere else?

  She shook her head and knew she was in real trouble when she complained about too many customers. Seriously, she had a problem and she was going to have to fix it. Knowing how was a detail she hadn’t worked out. But, as usual, the source could be traced back to a man.

  Everyone blamed Eve for the whole being thrown out of Eden thing; but Jo preferred to think Adam had some culpability. The man could have said no. But no one ever talked about that. If his friends had said to go jump off a cliff, would he have done that, too? Although, since technically Adam and Eve were the first two humans, according to the Bible, Adam wouldn’t have had any friends.

  A lovely mental distraction, she thought as she dropped ice into the stainless steel container, put on the top, then shook the martini into submission. But it didn’t get to the heart of the matter, which was Will.

  One of the many problems with him was that she couldn’t make up her mind. She knew what she should do. That was easy. Avoid him and say no when she couldn’t. It was a philosophy that had worked for her for years. Yet, when she was around Will, she found herself wondering what it would be like to give in. Just the one time. Except it wouldn’t be one time and then there would be all kinds of trouble.