by Danielle Lee
“This is cashmere, Janice,” Katherine said quietly.
“And it’s very nice, dear, but you’re a professional. Start dressing like one.”
Embarrassed, Katherine walked out of the room and straight to her cubicle.
***
Katherine, red-faced with humiliation, buried herself in her work once again. She hated working for Janice. She was nothing but a spoiled rich bitch. Janice Wheeler had had it out for her ever since she’d published her first article for the New York Times. Rumor had it that Janice had tried to freelance for a few other high-profile papers and magazines, but her articles didn’t cut it. The only reason why she had her job in the first place was because of her father. Her articles were turned down before they even hit the drawing room. It wasn’t that Katherine was special; freelancers were a dime a dozen. She didn’t know why she was the target for Janice’s hatred. All that she could think of was the newest article that she had written and hoped that the New York Times would pick up.
Katherine leaned over, picked up her purse, and grabbed her compact. She looked into the mirror, noting her appearance. Her brown hair fell like a blanket past her shoulders. Her green eyes looked good outlined with the black charcoal pencil she’d used before she left her apartment. The lipstick that she wore was still on, making her lips look nice and full. She checked her teeth to make sure nothing was in there. Seeing no evidence of the bagel with cream cheese, she shrugged and then looked down at her sweater. There was nothing wrong with the way she dressed. Just last month the sweater that she wore was worn by Arianne Zucker, an actress on Days of Our Lives. Only Katherine had bought the more cost-worthy of the two at Macy’s. Shaking her head out of frustration, she closed the compact and placed it back in her purse. There was no reason for her to be embarrassed. She knew what jealousy did firsthand, and she wasn’t going to fuel the fire anymore by paying heed to it.
Just then, her phone rang, bringing her attention away from Janice. “Hello?” Katherine said pleasantly.
“Katherine, hi, it’s Tawnya Morgan from the circulation department of the New York Times. I just wanted you to know we want to run your article. We’ll probably run it sometime before Thanksgiving. Carrie Stevens will be off for a few weeks and we need to fill up her column spot. We’ll probably run it then.”
Katherine inhaled deeply and smiled. “Thank you so much for calling, Tawnya. I know I always ask this…”
“Are we looking for anyone to replace Carrie?” she interrupted, and then laughed.
“Yes,” Katherine sighed.
“Actually, there is something else you should know. The freelancers that turn in their articles for this particular week are going to be considered for her replacement. I would say you have as good a chance as anyone. How many articles have you had run now?”
“Four—five when this one goes through.”
“I’d say you have a great chance then. Hopefully, someday, we will actually speak face to face! Good luck, Katherine. Oh, and your check will be mailed the week after the article prints. No change in address?”
“No, everything is the same. Thanks again, Tawnya.”
“No, problem. Good luck and I’ll talk to you later.”
Katherine hung up the phone with a smile on her face. Her day was just beginning to brighten. She glanced over to her inbox that lay on her desk. She perused through her mail to see to whom she would hand out advice. When she did this, she would always look at the bigger picture. Many of her successful articles were problems. Most of them, she thought, weren’t real problems, such as what kind of wine went with what kind of meat, or how to let a guy down easily if not interested. That being said, she never gave advice about marriage, children, or in-laws. Those things she knew nothing about and didn’t feel right giving untested advice. However, when she had come upon this particular letter a few months ago, she couldn’t let it go. This letter was the same one that Tawnya was talking about. This could be her chance for serious journalism. She couldn’t wait for Janice to read it, or to see the reaction of the staff of High Fashion, and she definitely couldn’t wait to see Kelsey’s blue eyes sparkle as he devoured her words.
That night after she finished reading through her mail, she dropped another article off on Janice’s large pile of papers. She closed the door and pulled the hood of her parka over her head as she pushed the elevator button.
The twenty-third floor of the New York building was by far the busiest. People pushed the button several times during the day, many bringing articles up, photographers turning in their newest snapshot, and the paparazzi flying in with the latest scandal.
As she waited for the doors to open, she daydreamed about Kelsey. The prospect of the two of them together seemed so promising. Sadly, she knew nothing of the man, other than how he took his coffee in the morning or that he always wore his blue-and-white paisley tie after his article went on the magazine awards listing.
Kelsey Martin was well-built, with blond hair and beautiful blue eyes. He was tall, too, and he dressed to the nines. Katherine couldn’t think of even one time where he had come to work wrinkled or disheveled. He certainly was not the hag that she had been today—blue cashmere. I mean really, how yesterday! she thought, laughing to herself.
“Going down?” a deep voice came from behind her.
Katherine turned to look, and Kelsey was smiling at her, his finger poised over the button, ready to push. She smiled nervously. “Yes, thank you.”
Another smile crossed his perfect lips as he pushed the 1 button. “I hear your article will be in the New York Times tomorrow, Katherine.”
He called her Katherine. No one had ever called her by her whole name before. Yet when he said it, it sounded so sexy. “Tomorrow? No…and how did you hear that?” Katherine asked.
“Oh, you know the newsroom. Things go around there like wildfire.”
Katherine nodded in agreement. The place was a cesspool for gossip. “Oh, I actually did get a call today from them, but it won’t be in for a few more weeks. Sometime before Thanksgiving, they said. I just hope they like it.”
“I’m sure everyone will. You know you’re a wonderful writer,” he said with a grin.
Katherine blushed. “Well, thank you. I’m flattered that you think so.”
Kelsey smiled even bigger as the elevator began to slow to the first floor. “Well, off we go.” He gestured his hand out for her to go first. “Shall I walk you to your car?”
“Oh, thank you for offering, but it isn’t necessary. I’m meeting up with my friend for drinks tonight.” Lie, lie, and lie, she thought to herself.
“Oh, that’s okay. I just…well, have a good time tonight, Kat.”
Back to Kat again. “Thanks. You, too.” She turned to face the curb of the outside of the building and hailed a cab. Another night at home alone, when she could have had old blue eyes walk her to her car. She didn’t have a car, but he didn’t have to know that. She could have just wandered around the parking garage aimlessly, spending time with him. She could have made up a car theft, anything to be near him. What was it with her that made her turn into an idiot when it came to men? Was she doomed to write her story as a tragedy, talking her way out of one bad relationship to the next? She just needed to relax, let her guard down for once.
Her apartment building must have been one of the smallest that New York City had for rent. Her tiny studio consisted of about forty square feet, with all of the amenities of a stove, refrigerator, shower, and toilet. She couldn’t believe how small it was for the price she was paying. She came from a small, rural town in east Connecticut. She had a huge family, and the house was one of the biggest homes that she had ever seen. So moving into the tiny New York apartment had been an adjustment, to say the least. Her mother and father couldn’t understand why she wanted to live in the city. She could’ve paid a lot less for a much bigger place in the country, but she couldn’t get past the excitement of the Big Apple. She loved the architecture, the hustle and bustle of the
crowd, the great taste of a hotdog at two in the morning. She loved the noise. She loved the rush of the New York traffic; she was a New Yorker even if it said “Connecticut” on her birth certificate. She was a true city girl.
She jangled her keys as she walked up the two flights of stairs. She pushed one in the lock, slowly opened the door, and reached for the light switch as she walked in. Her apartment, for being so small, was incredibly cozy. The dark mahogany bookcases, stocked with books, lined the outer walls. Her couch was a warm red, which invited anyone who walked in to sit down on its cushions. The walls were a rich tan that held decorated prints from famous artists like Van Gogh, Monet, and Renoir. A single afghan draped over the back of the couch, which she used from time to time while watching a movie late at night. She had a Murphy bed that pulled down to reveal a full-sized mattress with a microfiber duvet; she loved the softness of it against her skin.
Her kitchen was little to be enthused about. She had a tiny, apartment-sized stove and refrigerator, and her table folded down also. But all in all, she was happy with her place because it was her own. And she didn’t have to share it with her sister and five brothers.
When Katherine finally sat down in front of her flat-screen television and grabbed the afghan to curl up with, the phone rang. She stood up and reached her arm around the back of the couch to one of the bookcases. Her cordless made its home there with a basketful of change and some other miscellaneous items. “Hello, Katherine speaking.”
“Hi, Katherine, it’s Mom,” came her mother’s cheery voice.
“Mom, how are you doing today?”
“Well, Kat, I’m doing pretty well. Unfortunately, your father isn’t. He has to have another surgery. The doctor heard a murmur today in your father’s checkup. A few other things came up also.”
“Oh, Mom, I’m so sorry. How is Dad taking this?” Kat asked as she stood up. She walked over to the small kitchenette and pulled a coffee mug off one of the pegs under the cabinets.
“Well, he’s a trooper. He said this is the last one, he’s sure of it. He’s always positive about these things. Thank God, because I’m on the verge of a breakdown.”
“It’s going to be okay, Mom. Is there anything that I can do to help?” Kat scooped coffee from the Maxwell House container and filled the brewer and pushed the button.
“Well, it’s funny that you should ask, Kat. I really need you to stay with your father for the next few weeks. I understand that you have an important job there, but your brothers…they’re not a big help, and you, after all, are your father’s favorite.”
“What about Karen?” Kat asked, feeling horrible for even suggesting it.
“Your baby sister has enough problems. She has a new boyfriend.”
“No need to say any more on that subject,” Katherine said as she laughed.
Her mother did her best impression of one of Karen’s last boyfriends.
“Mom, I don’t know if I can get off right away. When’s the surgery?” Kat asked as she waited for her coffee to finish. She sighed. “I do have some vacation time coming, but I’m not sure if Janice will give it to me. She’s been difficult lately.” More like a pain in the ass, but her mom didn’t need to know that.
“Everything okay?” her mother inquired.
“Yeah, just a little work jealousy. I have another article going into the New York Times,” Katherine said enthusiastically.
“Oh, that’s great, Kat!” she exclaimed, and then paused. “You know…I wouldn’t have asked you if I thought it wasn't important. See if you can get some vacation time and come out to Connecticut to visit. I would do it again, but my boss said that if I take off for another two-week stint I will no longer be welcomed back. And since this is our only stable income, and where our health insurance lays, I have no choice, really.”
“When’s the surgery?” Katherine sighed.
Her mother blew out a deep breath. “I knew you would come through for us, Kat. You always do. It’s on the eighteenth—ten days away. Your father will be going into Mercy General. I appreciate everything that you’re doing. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mother. I’ll talk to Janice in the morning and get back to you sometime tomorrow. Don’t forget to start looking out for my article in the Times…It should be sometime before Thanksgiving.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. I will get several copies and brag to anyone that will listen.”
Kat laughed. “I know.”
“Bye, dear.”
“Bye, Mom. Give my best to Dad.”
The phone went to the dial tone. She had to take off work to care for her father. She hadn’t taken a vacation in the eight years that she had worked for High Fashion. According to payroll and Human Resources, she was owed sixteen weeks of paid vacation, not including her sick days. She hated to miss work. She had only missed three days since she’d started, and they were bereavement days for her grandfather’s funeral. Still, she felt awful for not being there. She put the phone back on the charger and turned to sit back down on the couch. The last thoughts that went through her mind before drifting off were of Kelsey. She pictured herself all cozy and nestled up next to him on her soft bed.
***
The alarm sounded just shy of five a.m. She stretched her arms high above her head and turned to the side. Her neck was sore. She hadn’t fallen asleep on the couch in a long time. She stood up and took the short stroll to the bathroom. Her clothes thrown to the floor, she turned the knob on the shower and began to refresh herself for the new day ahead.
After about twenty minutes, she was ready and grabbing a bagel with cream cheese before making her way outside.
The New York streets were alive that Wednesday morning. Familiar faces donned the sidewalks as they hailed cabs to their respective workplaces. Women—pushing strollers with little babies while listening to their mp3 players—rushed past with all the on-comers as tourists were running amok with their video cameras pointing at the different sites. Katherine felt as if she were in a moving picture. She loved the rush of the New York mornings, the fast-moving scenes as they unfolded around her. She loved her life, except for the one tiny detail: she didn’t have much of one.
She rushed through the swiveling door, pushing it as she walked into the drab entryway. The elevator stood directly in front of her. She reached out to push the up button when she felt someone next to her.
“Going up?”
Kelsey. She’d know his voice anywhere.
“Kelsey, yes, we seem to keep meeting this way,” she said nervously. Her face flushed from the sound of his voice.
“We do. Ready to start the day?”
“Yes and no. I have to ask for a few days off.” Why am I telling him this?
“Really? Need a vacation?”
Yes, desperately, in some hot place with you; your arms wrapped around me…Wake up, Wake up, Wake up, Kat!
“Kat, are you okay?”
“What? Oh…sorry, no. Not a vacation, my father is getting a surgery. I need to help my mother around the house and with him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope he’s going to be okay.” He sounded worried for her. She couldn’t believe that someone this gorgeous could also have a sweet side. She wanted to see more of it.
“Oh, that’s okay. He’ll be fine. I, on the other hand, am worried what Janice will think about this. She doesn’t exactly promote my fan club.”
Kelsey chuckled. “Janice is just…Janice. I’m sure what she said to you yesterday was out of…jealousy.” Kelsey winked at her and pushed the button to the twenty-third floor.
“Thank you,” Kat said as she stepped in. “I don’t want any problems. I just want to do my job and live my life.” Stupid, stupid, stupid.
When the door to the elevator opened on the twenty-third floor, people on the other side of the doors came in. Katherine and Kelsey exited and walked down the hallway into the newsroom.
“Wait, Kat,” he said, stopping in front of her. “I was wond
ering if maybe…Would you like to go out to dinner with me?” He looked down nervously, and when he looked back up his eyes were warm.
“Oh, I, yes, when?” she stammered.
“Since you’re going away soon, how does tonight sound?”
“Oh, it sounds…wonderful, thank you.” Katherine couldn’t believe her luck. She tried not to smile like an idiot.
“Great! I’ll pick you up around eight then?”
“Eight, sounds fine. I live at…”
“Twenty-eight Birmingham Place…”
Too late. Her eyes widened at the mention of her address. How did he know where she lived? She looked at him curiously, her face beaming into a grin.
“Sorry, I used my position to gain your address…”
“No, that’s…”
“Scary, I know. I just thought about a hundred times on how I was going to ask you. I even went over there two weeks ago and buzzed, but chickened out.”
She smiled a soft smile at the mention of the buzzer. She remembered a few weeks before when she’d heard the buzzer, thinking it was for takeout. She had buzzed them up and nothing. She thought Mike’s Chicken and Eatery forgot her food. Note to self, apologize to Mike. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing now. He’d been thinking of her, too. All of a sudden, she felt as if things were turning around for her in the love department.
“I was going to say sweet. But scary may be a better fit,” she replied.
He looked at her and smiled. “Well, eight it is.”
She turned away from him on cloud nine. It was eight a.m. and she had twelve hours to go until she was alone with the man of her dreams.
Her cubicle was as tidy as it could be. Papers stacked up higher than usual lay in her inbox. They were all letters for her prospective advice column. She couldn’t imagine how busy she would be after her article went out. The phone rang, startling her from concentration. She picked up the receiver and a familiar “hello” rang out on the other end. It was her father.