She heard argumentative sounds pierce through the walls.
“Let him go!” Frank was screaming.
“Oh, shut up, Frank!” Olivia screamed back. “Clayton, darling, let’s talk about this. Clayton!”
But Clayton was already marching out into the veranda.
“Are you ready?” he asked her and led her towards the awaiting helicopter.
Chapter 17
Kate mechanically watched the stream of cars speed by theirs. They were back in the bustle and the heat of New York.
They had scarcely spoken during their entire trip. He had avoided her, working on either his papers or computer. He never once looked at her. Even now as he drove through the maze of streets, he focused on the road before him.
He suddenly steered off his course, pulling the car into the parking lot of a subway station.
“I suppose you wouldn’t want to go back to my apartment,” he said.
Kate was quiet. He was right. She didn’t want to go back to his house. But why did it hurt when he said it out aloud like that?
“I need to get my things,” she whispered.
“Right,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’ll get them for you.”
“No, don’t,” she added, rather quickly. “I…I’ll manage. If you don’t mind opening the trunk?”
“Kate,” he said before she could leave and handed her a check. “I promised you a further hundred thousand at the end of the contract.”
“I guess I did a good job then,” she said, accepting it reluctantly. She gave a brief glance at it and then stepped out of the car.
Clayton popped open the boot.
She stepped behind the car and pulled out her old bag she had stored inside the Samsonite suitcase. She picked up Grandma’s painting and clutched it to herself.
She slammed the trunk shut and stepped away from the car, planning on how she should return home from there.
She averted her eyes, refraining to look towards Clayton. It was over. It was finally over.
Clayton pulled away from the curb. He watched her in the rear view mirror as he drove away. It was probably the last time he would ever see her.
*****
Eight months. Eight months had passed since the “Sitka Incident” as she termed it.
The restaurant bustled with noise and chatter.
“Have a nice evening,” she told a customer as she handed over his receipt. She gave him a smile and he stalled at his feet.
“I’m Gavin,” he said. “Perhaps one day when you’re free…”
“I can’t Gavin,” she let him down gently. He was her client and she knew in her business, word of mouth was important. “Thanks though.”
“Another man?” he teased and walked on.
She blushed. There was. There never had been another since Clayton, although she had never seen him in eight months. So how was it she felt he still was in her life?
She looked at her restaurant. It was most probably because of it.
Six hundred thousand dollars had certainly changed her life. She returned home that day, attempting to be more cheerful of her new found fortune. Instead it took her two entire days to finally get herself out of bed and get her life back to normal; back to the days of pre-Clayton.
However, soon after, her mother’s health took a turn for the worse and suddenly all that money was no longer important. She didn’t even have the time to call for an ambulance. Terri passed away while she was attending to the children’s breakfast and preparing them for school. When she went to check on her later that morning, her mother lay lifeless and ashen on the bed she was confined to for the last years of her life.
She was now six hundred thousand dollars richer and the reason for which she had sold her soul no longer existed.
But she was determined to survive. She pulled Lorenzo one day by the sleeve and told him she was leasing that store he always had his eye on. It was up to him if he wanted to partner with her. She remembered crossing her fingers behind her. Her success was riding on Lorenzo joining her. She would never forget the smile he had given her.
“Bella dama!” he had screamed as he had twirled her in the air.
“Bella dama,” Lorenzo said, interrupting her thoughts. “You seem lost.”
“Shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?” she teased. “This is my area.”
He grinned. “Someone asked to see the sous-chef again. Compliments, you know.”
“Oh come off your high horse,” she laughed.
“Yeah, life is certainly good. I am assistant to the chef and yet he can’t scream at me because he just might get fired.”
Kate rolled her eyes. “Have you enrolled in that cooking course yet, sous-chef?”
“Oh, yes. I start next semester.”
“You shouldn’t leave it too late. You know we’ll be able to manage in the few hours you’ll be away.”
“It’s my restaurant too, bella dama. I get all anxious if I don’t get to oversee the kitchen. You know, like new mom fears. And I am determined to not leave the chef rest in peace. I’ve had enough of steward abuse from all the chefs I’ve worked under.”
Kate giggled. “So you’re deciding to take it all out on poor Chef Mancini?”
“Yeah, I shouldn’t kill him just yet. I still have a lot to learn from him,” he pretended to sigh.
“What are you two grinning about?” scowled Libby, walking in with Johnny and Lily in tow.
“What are you three doing out so late?” Kate said, picking up Lily into her arms. “Shouldn’t you, little one, be in bed?”
“It’s Friday night. Besides, Rudy gets to stay,” Libby grumbled.
“That’s different. Rudy’s taking cooking lessons, Libby,” Kate sighed.
Lorenzo straightened his apron. “I’m needed in the kitchen.”
He disappeared through the kitchen doors.
Libby followed suit, close at his heels.
Lorenzo picked up the garbage bags and stepped out into the dark alley. He threw the bags into the dumpster.
He put his hands on his hips, breathing in the fresh night air. It was quiet, the few street lights throwing some little light into the alley.
The kitchen back door flung open.
“I’ve been looking for you,” Libby said.
Lorenzo arched his eyebrow. “What have I done now?”
“Do you know I turned sixteen two months ago?” Libby growled.
“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing.”
“I haven’t been giving Kate any trouble. And I help out as much as I can in the house.”
“Ok?” Lorenzo said.
“Why won’t you then… why won’t you…?” she stammered.
“Why won’t I what?” Lorenzo asked, edging closer to her.
She froze, her skin prickled with her nervousness.
He put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “Why won’t I do this?” he said.
“Yes,” she muttered.
He cupped her face and drew her to his. “And why won’t I do this?”
“Yes.”
“And why I won’t do this?” he whispered as he tasted her lips. He kissed her tenderly, his mouth capturing, exploring hers.
She uttered a soft moan and he drew away hesitantly.
“Because querida, I’m only a man,” he groaned. “I need my sanity.”
He started walking away.
“What?” she stared after him speechlessly. “Lorenzo! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You better start counting to twenty-one, querida,” Lorenzo said.
“Twenty-one?!” she snapped. “That’s five years away!”
Lorenzo smiled, heading back into the busyness of his kitchen.
Kate instructed her wait staff to clear the sidewalk furniture. She leant against a lamp post tiredly as they worked.
She glanced through the window. Grandma Connie’s painting was proudly displayed on a wall. Sitka was only a dream. And she now was living ano
ther.
It was four months now before their restaurant, The Pantheon NY, officially opened its doors to their first customers. People poured in and their popularity spread like wild fire.
She didn’t know what it was though. Was it perhaps the adaptation of the totem poles in her décor just like the ones she saw in Sitka. Or was it Lorenzo’s charm? Whatever it was, it was certainly working.
A month ago, her returns from the restaurant even enabled her to afford a bigger and better apartment. Of course, Lorenzo followed them with his own family moving into the vacant one right across the hallway. It hadn’t taken her long to discover that her business partner had fallen head over heels for her sister. She could only appreciate the positive influence Lorenzo had on her family. Libby was tamed and Rudy had a male figure in his life to model after.
She put her hands in her pocket and drew out her wallet. She pulled out the check she still contained within it. It was stained and worn-out from the multitude of times she had stood like this in her loneliness studying it.
“You know that’s stale now.”
Her eyes shot up into the darkness. She saw only his dark outline but she knew it was him. Her body froze, her hands tingled with nervousness.
“Clayton?” she said, her mind refusing to believe that he could be there.
He drew closer. He looked thinner and aged. He hadn’t shaved, his stubbles grazing his once clean jaw. His suit, however, remained as immaculate as always.
“You do know checks expire after six months?” he said
She folded the check and put it back into her wallet. “Why are you here, Clayton?”
He shrugged. “Just stopping by to ask why you never cashed that.”
She glared at him. “I’m busy.”
“Perhaps when you’re free, we could grab a coffee together. I really want to talk to you.”
“Our business is done. There is nothing to talk about.”
“Yes, there is,” he said, sternly. “I was wrong. I was terribly wrong.”
“I am not your confession box, Clayton,” she said, walking away.
He grabbed her arm. “You never intended to cash that check.”
She shook him off angrily and walked on.
He followed her. “I won’t give up on us.”
She hesitated briefly and then continued on towards her restaurant. “You already did,” she muttered to herself.
“I won’t give up on us,” he repeated more loudly.
She began closing the doors in his face. “We’re closed.”
“I’ll be back tomorrow then,” he said stubbornly.
And he did. Every night. For the next two weeks.
*****
He wanted her from the very first moment he had laid eyes on her at Madame Madge’s parlor. He had watched her silently through the one-way mirrored walls of Madge Harris’ office.
“Who is she?” Clayton had asked Madge Harris.
“A new recruit,” she had replied. “And highly qualified too. Educated, intelligent and skilled. ”
She surveyed him seductively. “You sure you don’t want someone to attend to you? You look like you’re in need of some rest.”
He had smiled at her. “Thank you Ms Harris. But I’m only here because of Bob. I’m sure he intends to retain your services. I, on the other hand, prefer to find my own playmate. I’ll just take that regular massage.”
It was only when he reached home did he realize how he could have her without lowering his standards.
He missed her. It had been three months since he had dropped her off rudely at the subway station. But he didn’t have the fortitude to take her home. He would never have had the courage to let her simply walk out of his house.
“Mrs Reid called again,” announced Evan.
“Which Mrs Reid?” he grumbled.
“Your mother, Clayton.”
He groaned. He might as well call her back. He knew his mother could get quite persistent, to the point of stubbornness. He had successfully avoided them all this while, but there were only so many times any one could do that with family.
He scrolled down for her number on his phone. “Hello, Mother?”
“Clayton!” she growled. “Do you know how many times we’ve called you?! How long are you going to do this? Do you know that I’m your mother?! I can be a bigger and better ass than you can ever be!”
Clayton groaned again. “What is it, Mom?”
“What is it?! You took off after all that fiasco which you created and I haven’t seen you since. We need to talk. It’s gonna happen, Clayton, like it or not. You can’t keep running like this.”
He supposed she was right. He was only avoiding the lashing. He might as well get it done with.
“We’re coming tomorrow. And you better stay put when I get there,” she commanded.
“Wait, who’s ‘we’?”
“Both your grandmother and your sister’s coming with me,” she put flatly.
Damn! He was certainly in trouble. One Reid, he could handle on his own. But three Reid women were no match for him. Especially when his mother started referring to Grandma and Leah as his grandmother and sister.
Evan walked in with a silver Samsonite suitcase.
“Is there anywhere you want me to put this?” he asked.
Clayton glanced at the suitcase and frowned. “Are they here already? I thought you were going to pick them up at ten o’clock?”
“It was in the trunk of your Bentley. I thought to make some space for luggage. Women tend to travel with a lot more.”
Clayton arched his eyebrows. “It doesn’t belong to me.”
Evan studied the suitcase. “Do you want me to open it?”
“No, that’s fine,” Clayton waved him away. “Go get the girls.”
Clayton stared at the bag. She couldn’t have, he thought.
He opened it carefully and there contained within it, were all of Kate’s clothes and shoes. No, he corrected. Only those which he had paid for.
Clayton fiddled with his pen awkwardly. He averted his eyes, refraining to look at the women seated sporadically in the lounges across him. He didn’t need to because he was already feeling the heat of their fiery glares burning into him.
His father sat in an arm chair, shaking his legs anxiously. He had come too. And this surprised him more than anything else.
“How could you Clayton?” his mother started.
He puffed annoyingly. “I didn’t think. I just did it. It just happened.”
“It’s not like you got her pregnant! On second thoughts, that would have been better in comparison to this.”
“Mom, calm down,” Leah said.
“Calm down? Does he hate Matt so much he had to hurt us?” his mother sobbed.
“I don’t see why he has to hate Matt. He is a far better man than…” his father growled.
“Enough,” Grandma Connie interrupted. “That’s enough. What’s between Matt and Clayton, let’s leave it between them. They’re both intelligent men and I believe in them to sort things out. What Clayton did, has nothing to do with Matt.”
“What are you talking about, Mother?” Frank scowled. “He’s a business man and he claims he’s one of the shrewdest there is. Then how did he not foresee the stupidity of his actions? How could he have been so bloody short-sighted?”
“That’s only because he’s in love,” Grandma sighed. “Love conquers all, even a coldhearted, stubborn business man who doesn’t lift a finger without mapping his course of action for the next ten years. And Clayton fell so hard it knocked all his business savviness out of him.”
“Grandma,” Clayton started to protest.
“It’s true, Clayton,” Leah spoke up. “I don’t get why you didn’t see it. We all did. And we saw it in Kate too. So when all this stuff popped up about you and Kate doing this engagement charade, Grandma wouldn’t believe it. She knew there was more to it. So we called in Bob Whitton, like you said and asked him.”
“Y
ou spoke to Bob?” Clayton asked.
Olivia nodded. “Right after you left. Clayton… Kate was never an escort. Bob discovered the truth a few days later after he had employed Kate. He didn’t tell you because he didn’t think it mattered. Since she described herself as one, he presumed she was now working as one.”
“Kate’s mother was dying,” Leah explained. “She was an alcoholic and was severely stricken with cirrhosis. She also had four half-siblings to support. So when she became redundant from her last job, she had no other choice.”
“And you know all this because…,” Clayton asked, his face grown ashen. It was suddenly making all sense. Her tightness when he first had her, her refusal to kiss him, her shyness… the money.
“We did a background check,” his father finished severely. “Which you should have done from the very start.”
Olivia gave Frank a threatening glare.
“I need to go see her,” Clayton said, turning to move towards the door.
“No, you won’t,” Olivia ordered.
“You can’t tell me who I can and cannot love, Mother,” Clayton snapped.
“Kate lost her mother soon after leaving Sitka. But she’s trying to put back the pieces of her life. The last we heard, she leased a store and she’s turning it into a restaurant. Give her some time, Clayton. To heal. To be the woman she can be. If you suddenly turn up at this time, she will never accept you.”
“I need to see her,” Clayton muttered, as he stormed out of his study.
He watched her in the distance, in the dark. He watched her work late into the night. And for the next five months, he stood by her in silence, never letting her know of his presence.
*****
“How long has it been?” asked Libby, leaning against the bar, watching the man eating silently at his table.
Rudy, Bridget and Lorenzo also lazily hung over the bar counter, their eyes keenly resting on the man.
“Two weeks,” Rudy groaned.
Bridget smiled as the disgruntled rest pulled out ten dollars from their wallets and thumped it into Bridget’s waiting palm.
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