by Ewens, Tracy
“Kate . . . ”
“Please stop saying my damn name,” she moaned.
“Fine, I promise I’ll be quiet, but I’d like to go with you. We could have some coffee, I’m a master of the French press.”
Kate glared at him.
“Right, sorry, no charm either. I’ll just sit like a eunuch, I swear.”
“I want to be alone, I just want to be left alone. I need a minute.” She dropped her head into her hands, leaning her elbows on her knees.
“I get that, and I’ll leave you alone soon enough, but it’s been my experience that it’s not good to be alone right when shitty things happen. I’m not sure what the hell happened back there, but the initial shock of shitty things, when experienced alone, only leads to trouble.”
Her car arrived. She took a deep breath, sent another warning look to Grady, and got in on the passenger side of her sensible Prius. Grady was quick enough to tip the valet, and slipped in to drive.
They drove in silence, as Kate rolled the window down and willed the wind to dry her tears and take her pain with them. Married, he was going to marry her. Kate felt like her chest was going to cave in. She would be his wife, she’d have his children, she’d be . . . Oh God, she would be enough.
“Pull over,” she said.
Grady immediately pulled to the side of the road. Kate opened the door and threw up. Twinkling black sparkly shoes, and there she was on the dusty, dirty, shoulder of the highway, bringing up stuffed mushrooms. Tears mixed with the gross taste in her mouth, and Grady handed her his handkerchief. Who the hell still carried a handkerchief? Next came a bottle of water he’d pulled from somewhere in the car.
“Rinse and repeat. If you need to blow your nose, go right ahead.”
She couldn’t look at him. He was the client. She was supposed to be keeping him together, making him look good, and here she was a total wreck. At that moment, Kate didn’t have the energy to care. He touched her head, pushed the hair off her face, and she looked up into eyes that held nothing but kindness and sympathy. The kindness was a surprise, and she hated the sympathy. She was fine. Damn it, Kate. Be fine.
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you are. Sure you are.”
She put the lid on the water and swiveled back into the car. Grady closed the door and went back to the driver’s seat.
“You know what you need?”
“I am truly afraid to ask.”
“Will you just let me take care . . . Can I be in charge for a few hours?”
“I don’t think—”
“Trust me, there will be ice cream involved.” He smiled very gently. He was being so careful.
“Probably not a good idea to eat after I’ve just—”
“That was anguish throw up, not food related, so the food rule doesn’t apply.”
She almost smiled. “Excuse me? Did you just say anguish throw up?”
“I did. Falls under the reasons we throw up that have nothing to do with alcohol or bad eggs. Like when I found out Peter’s dad killed himself, or the day I came home early from school and found my father with some woman and they were both on the same side of the desk— anguish throw up. So much pain, the body can’t handle it, so it yells, ‘Everyone out!’”
Kate stared at him. There she was, sitting on the side of the road, feeling about as low as she had been in a while, and she could not take her eyes off of him. It had nothing to do with his looks. He was sharing himself, a piece of his own pain. It was so honest, and for a moment she forgot everything. The moments of light he was capable of, when the charm and bullshit slipped away, were brilliant.
Grady smiled. “So—me, in charge, just for tonight?”
She nodded. He touched her hand. She was not prepared and jumped a little.
“Rest, Kate. Just close your eyes. I’ve got this.”
She closed her eyes as they silently glided down the freeway. Kate could hear Grady’s muffled voice on his phone. She felt another wave of nausea, but took a deep breath and again willed herself into fine. The memories continued to crowd her mind. They were relentless and took her back to the last time Nick asked her to come home.
He had arrived at the office with flowers, of all things. It had been about three months since she had moved out. Three months since she had woken up in the middle of the night to find Nick sitting on the side of their bed with his face in his hands. Three months since he’d told her that he had slept with Rachelle, he’d been sleeping with her, he felt this weird attraction to her that he just felt awful about. Kate left that night in a flurry of disgust and then three short months later he was in front of her with the stupid flowers. It was over. If she was ever going to respect herself again, it had to be over. This wasn’t the first time Nick had slept with Rachelle, the year prior he’d slept with her in what he termed “a drunken stupor.” Kate bought it that time; they went to counseling and mended their marriage. They weren’t great, but they were better. The night before the hands-in-the-face routine, they had talked about maybe starting a family. That blew up with his pathetic confession.
The memory was still so fresh. The look on Nick’s face, his warm brown eyes, so sad, like a little boy caught covered in mud. And Kate remembered not caring. That was the beginning of her numb phase. Funny, she would kill to be numb right now, but the memory continued.
“There were other problems, Nick. It wasn’t just you.”
“How can you say that? It was me. I deceived you, that’s what you said. I broke your heart, I know.”
“You did. All I’m saying is, it’s over and we can’t go back. There were other issues in our marriage, and obviously I wasn’t enough for you. I need you to forgive yourself and let me go. Stop trying to make this work. You don’t want to be married to me. You want to feel better; you want the guilt to go away. I can’t help you with that, but somehow winning me back is not going to fix things. I love you. I still remember how you smell, your arms. I hope to God someday I stop loving you, but you will forever be a bruise on my heart. You need to listen to me.” Kate had actually taken his hands, she needed him to hear her. “This will not work. It’s broken. Please, please, let me go. Kiss me, wish me well, and find a way to like yourself again. If you love her, then go do that, be with her. I do not want to love you like this anymore. I want to move on.”
“Kate, you were enough. I just, aw shit, I don’t know. I have problems, it’s the job. She understands the—we’re the same. I know I hurt you, but I love you. I’ve always loved you.”
“Oh, Nick. You’re fooling yourself.”
“No, you’re wrong. We can get over this. I’ll transfer out of there; maybe I’ll take a desk job. I’ve changed. Please don’t throw this all away.”
“Changed? Nick, I know you think you love me, but that’s not enough. Have you slept with her since we separated?”
“Kate . . . I . . . ”
“That’s what I thought. Let it go, Nick. Please, for both our sakes, just stop.”
He never tried again after that day. It was for the best and it had been years. Most of the pain had healed or was buried. Kate told him to leave and create a life with her. She gave him permission, and he did. She honestly didn’t feel anything for him anymore, but something happened when she saw that ring, the permanence of it. It was like somehow, even though she never saw Nick anymore, unless by the occasional accident, he was alone and she was alone. They were both broken together. Now he was getting married, starting over. He was not broken anymore and she was. That’s how she felt looking at that ring. Kate was drowning in herself; it really had nothing to do with either one of them. It was her. Why was she still broken?
She wiped her eyes and noticed the car had stopped. Grady rolled the window down.
“Good evening, Mr. Malendar.”
“Hello, Spencer.”
“The suite is ready as requested sir, we will escort your guest up using the back elevator.”
“You’re a prince.” Grady smiled and handed the tall bald ge
ntleman a hundred dollar bill. Grady rolled the window up and turned to Kate.
“These gentlemen will take you in.”
“What? What’s going on? Where are we?”
Grady touched her hand. “Kate, you promised, I’m in charge. Now you’re going to have to trust me here.”
Kate’s brows crinkled, but she was honestly too tired to argue. She exhaled. “Fine. What am I doing?”
As if on cue, the doorman opened the door.
“Ms. Galloway, welcome. Your bag has been brought up to your suite, if you’ll please follow me.”
Kate looked at Grady. He smiled, kissed the hand he was still holding, and handed her her purse from the backseat.
“Sleep. Relax, Kate. This place practically demands it. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can go over the rest of the weekend.”
Kate was out of the car when she turned. “Weekend? Wait a minute, I gave you control for an evening. No one said anything about the weekend.”
Grady laughed. “Rest, Kate. Your laptop is up there. I know there’s always work to be done, but this is called pampering. You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”
Kate shook her head. “This really isn’t necessary. Why are you still sitting in the car?”
“Now how would that look, Grady Malendar entering a hotel with the dazzling Katherine Galloway? I’m surprised at you. You’re slipping.”
“I thought I wasn’t a threat, remember? No one would ever think—”
“Yeah, well that was then and this is now. You can never be too careful. That’s what you’re always telling me.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea. I’m fine and I . . .”
Grady turned to the bald gentleman. “Spencer.”
“Sir.”
“Ms. Galloway is ready now. Sleep tight, Kate.” A bit stunned at being cut off, Kate gave up and followed the two men in deep burgundy suits through the back door of a beautiful historic-looking hotel she had never been to before, white stucco, awnings, and incredible dark green vines. An older, mustached gentleman who proudly introduced himself as the manager met her inside. Kate noticed he wore a tiny Virgin Mary pin on his lapel and smelled like her grandfather. Chaps cologne maybe? Whatever it was, he was warm and lovely. He personally escorted her down Saltillo tile corridors, under heavy adobe arches and past a massive fireplace. All the while he explained the history of the hotel and that it used to be a monastery. He then opened the door to her suite and Kate was certain her mouth fell open. Her mind registered that the room was a stunning combination of white, wood and tile. Thick white stone walls, with deep window alcoves and wood framed crank windows. The floor was the same tile and the entry had a little table with a bowl of fruit. The manager introduced her to Cecile and Gretta. They would be her “room attendants” during her stay.
“If you need anything, Ms. Galloway, please push this button, there’s another by your bed in the other room, and one of us will be right in,” the shorter of the two women said in a soft melodic voice that instantly relaxed Kate as she nodded to their instruction.
“Well, I will leave you to the ladies at this point and let you get unpacked. Ms. Galloway, and do not hesitate to contact me for anything. My name is Guillermo Correra.”
Kate offered her hand, and he took it with both of his thick square hands and looked at her through soft, weathered, dark eyes. “Welcome to the Santuario del Corazón. It’s a true pleasure having you with us.”
Kate believed him. She’d been to dozens of hotels, she’d had great service and knew the job of providing customers with excellence. This was different. She wanted to crawl into his lap, have him read her a story or push her on the swings. It was a bizarre reaction, but she felt protected. How could Grady have possibly known what she needed at the very moment he found her outside waiting for her car? Reading people was her job.
“Thank you so much.” It was all she could manage as Guillermo turned, adjusted the flowers on the coffee table in front of a huge rust-colored couch, and closed the door behind him.
Chapter Nineteen
Something happens to a woman when her husband is unfaithful. Songs and poems are written about heartbreak and betrayal, but they only serve to flower up the ugly truth. The young girl, the one inside every grown woman, the one dancing around in her mother’s shoes, she dies. The wide-eyed innocent who looked up at the man she loved and professed her devotion, she leaves and the woman is never the same. Even when she heals, kicks out the bitterness and the pain, she is changed. Some will say she becomes more of a woman, stronger, but Kate simply lost herself, her whole self.
She was starting to find her way back. That was the first thought she had when she awoke to knocking at the door. It took her a moment to realize she was still in the hotel suite. Kate hopped out of the massive four-poster bed she slept in last night, and shuffled to the door.
“Good morning,” Grady chirped, as Kate squinted into the morning light and pushed the hair out of her face. He walked past her with bags and a smile that told her he was definitely a morning person.
“Why?” she croaked, and then cleared her throat. “Why am I always opening the door to you holding bags? Do you just carry them around with you?”
“I do. You’ve discovered my secret. I’m a bag man.” Grady laughed, put the bags on the counter, and began removing several boxes of cereal.
Kate walked toward him, picked up the box of Fruit Loops, and asked, “Do I want to know?”
“You said you’ve never tried sugar cereal. That’s tragic, so I thought we might remedy that this morning.”
Kate put down the box and turned to go into the bathroom. She smiled. Just when she thought she had him, knew what she was dealing with, he pulled out another surprise.
“Wait, where are you going?” Grady asked, pulling two gallons of milk and paper bowls out of the remaining bag.
“Teeth, I need to brush my teeth and put some clothes on.”
“No need to do that on my—”
Kate held up her hand. “Don’t, please don’t finish that sentence.” The bathroom door closed.
When Kate emerged from the bathroom a few moments later in tan shorts and a white oversized button-up shirt, her hair was pulled off her face in a ponytail. She’d washed her face, but had not bothered to put make-up on. She hated make-up. Besides, it was Saturday, she was in a beyond-compare hotel suite with her equally gorgeous client, who was clearly taking pity on her because she had a small nervous breakdown because her ex-husband was going to marry the woman he was banging while they were married. Mascara would not make any of that better, so Kate didn’t see the need.
Grady had made coffee in the little kitchenette, but was nowhere to be found.
“Hello?” she called.
“In here. The dining room?”
“This place has a dining room?” She hadn’t even noticed the second arch leading out of the entrance when she collapsed into bed last night. She took her coffee and walked barefoot through the tile arch and there, sitting criss-cross on top of a very large Spanish-looking table, was an incredibly handsome man surrounded by what looked like two dozen boxes of cereal. Grady was in jeans, his hair still had a morning swirly in the back, and he wore a faded navy blue T-shirt. He too was a barefoot, flip-flops on the floor by the table. Kate laughed for the first time since leaving the benefit the night before.
She stood next to Grady, sipped her coffee, and asked, “Are we eating all of these?”
Grady looked at her, barely able to move amongst the boxes.
“Okay, here’s my plan. I’ve left a space up here for you to sit too. I have bowls and milk and a very large trash can. We are going to eat our way through this cereal and find you a favorite sugary cereal.”
Kate nodded, handed him her coffee cup, and began climbing into her spot. “I mean, we should probably be working on your speech for the Cactus League Luncheon on Monday, or attending your father’s discussion on immigration this afternoon, but yes, this seems like a priori
ty.” Kate shook her head and smiled. She was giving in or giving up, she wasn’t sure which, but she sat on the table facing Grady and crossed her legs. He smiled, and she was suddenly wide awake.
“Good. Okay, now you’re going to like the second half of this little activity.”
“Oh, there’s a second half? Do tell.”
“Well it’s technically research, which will appeal to your incessant need to work on the weekends. With each box of cereal, every sample, we are going to ask each other one question.”
“We?”
“Yes, we. It’s only fair.”
Kate shook her head.
“Let’s not start the morning off this way. I brought sugar, you want to know more about me so you can exploit that for my father’s gain.”
Kate laughed.
“And I want to know more about you because—”
“Because?” Kate asked, raising her eyebrows.
“Because I should get some reward. I did all the shopping.”
She laughed again and gave in.
“Okay, here goes,” Grady continued. “We are going to ease into this. I don’t want your system to go into shock when you taste what you’ve been missing all these years. I give you Honey Nut Cheerios.” He handed her a paper bowl and a plastic spoon. “Now for the purposes of research, we’re using 2 percent milk. When I was a kid we drank whole milk, but I just can’t get that stuff down anymore, so 2 percent it is.” He looked at Kate, who had her spoon poised and ready. “I suppose you had blue milk as a kid?”
Kate nodded. “Skim milk all the way. I still drink it.”
Grady gave a dramatic sigh. “A travesty. Let’s begin.”
“Wait. Don’t I get to ask my question first?”
“After your taste-test.” Grady said with a full mouth. “Mmm, Honey Nuts are in a class all their own. These are delicious.”
Kate took a bite.
“Well?” Grady asked.
“Not bad,” she mumbled over chewing. “I can taste the honey, sort of like a graham cracker. Not sure I’m too excited about the weird film floating in my milk, but not bad.”
“Okay. Good start. Ask away.”