by D. A. Young
Kat’s ears were hot watching her boss take a walk down memory lane.
“Where exactly is this conversation going, Madam?”
“The suitor with the least stamina was my Monday. I allowed it to build through the week. When Saturday came around, I couldn’t wait for the pounding that lover would give me!”
She kissed her fingertips enthusiastically. “Ah! His name was Hector. He looked like a bull and rutted like a stallion.”
“That sounds like something I really don’t ever want to hear again, Madam.”
“Too many for you? Quit being such a prude, Katerina! Don’t worry. I’ve cut down in my old age. I’m down to four now. Stay here! I’ll be right back. By the way, after hours, call me Lalita.”
Kat put her elbows on her desk and covered her face with her palms, listening to Lalita teetering off. The woman had cut down from six to four lovers at her advanced age. Six. Meanwhile, Kat’s vagina was on its way to being classified as a historical artifact.
Lalita returned five minutes later. She’d shed her cape and held two glasses and an opened bottle of red wine triumphantly. “Look what I found! This rioja is one of life’s greatest joys in a bottle! I should know because I helped to created it.”
She set the bottle on the file cabinet in the corner and poured generous portions of the wine into each glass. She handed one to Kat and beckoned her to follow. “Come along, Friday Night Blues. Make sure to thank me later for saving you from an evening of knitting a cardigan for your cat.”
“Hah-hah. Very funny. It was actually booties for my goldfish, thank you very much,” Kat replied, to which Lalita snorted.
They walked to the only room in the place that was secured with two locks and a keypad. Kat turned away while Lalita entered the code. “I appreciate your discretion, but it’s unnecessary. You are one of the very few people I trust, not only in the industry but this dog-eat-dog world.”
“Really? Oh, my goodness! Thank you. I swear I would never violate your trust.”
Kat was beyond flattered at that level of confidence. Sten’s betrayal still left her reeling when he occasionally crossed her mind. She now kept her brainstorming to herself, finding it hard to trust anyone in her trade. The glow lasted a minute. She turned back around, now suspicious of the high praise. “Unless you’re into insider trading. Also, if you even mention anything about how innocent I look—”
“With those Bambi eyes, you could rule the world, dah-ling! Kings would empty their vaults if you were bold enough to blink at them. A true waste of a superpower,” Lalita tutted, wagging her index finger.
She opened the door to the room, and even though Kat had seen the collection several times, it never failed to steal her breath away. It was an ethereal feast to visualize and savor. The gowns were elegant and embodied beauty and art in a bohemian-romantic twist. The fabrics were luxurious: silk dupioni, crepe de chine, taffeta, and silk organza. They were enhanced by exquisite, hand-embellished detailing, such as netted pearls, embroidered floral lace, sheer lace, iridescent lace, and scalloped edging. Dramatic bell sleeves, cascading skirts, full trains, and plunging back necklines to draw the eye, in varying shapes of form-fitting, flowing, mermaid style, classic, and tiered.
And Madam Lalita had selected her, little Katerina Romankov from Whiskey Row, to design the accompanying jewelry collection. Upon arriving in New York, Kat had settled into Noelle and Jack’s Brooklyn brownstone. Lalita sent a courier to deliver the fabrics and examined them while watching the email link she’d received prior to arriving that explained Lalita’s collection concept. Kat was inspired to create a celestial collection that would be made of platinum and twenty-four-carat gold. It included layered pendants of hammered discs with tiny diamond constellations embedded on them. North star necklaces with diamond centers, minimalist chokers with tiny dangling stars and crescent-shaped moons, and sun pendants carved from opal and trimmed gold. Constellation earrings, climbing ear cuffs, and platinum starburst and sunburst earrings in single, double, and triple strands, all dripping in diamonds of varying sizes.
“That is what I am after!” Lalita announced, clapping her hands and making Kat jump.
“Excuse me?” Carefully, she wiped the drops of wine from her herringbone trousers.
“The look on your face right now is the bar in which I will set my expectation for reactions when these collections debut. Some may call it naïve, innocent, who cares?! I suspect you’ve heard it all, dah-ling. It matters not. I hope you never lose your sense of wonder when something speaks this deeply to your heart, Katerina,” Lalita spoke softly. “As dreamers, it’s our job to create the things that we love and will be loved in return by many. Does that make sense?”
“Create the things that you love and feed your soul with what makes it happiest. I remember when you said that to me in the middle of the Git & Split, and you were correct. We take the time to love and nurture what’s important to us and should never lose sight of that.”
Kat’s throat tightened, and she finished off her wine, remembering Holt lowered on one knee.
“It makes perfect sense,” she sighed. “Was there a particular reason you wanted to see the collection?”
Lalita studied her for a long moment, almost as if she were trying to search Kat’s soul. “Not really. I simply wanted an honest reaction before reality sets in.”
“Reality?”
“The critics, my dear. You have to be willing to accept the critics along with the fans. They are pains in my ass but…c’est la vie! Flowers need both sun and rain to flourish, and so do we.”
“That’s a very mature perspective, Lalita.”
“When you get to be my age, you must pick and choose your battles wisely. Smile instead of giving them the finger. Katerina, would you mind indulging me?”
Kat cringed. “Please tell me it doesn’t involve listening to another ‘days of the week’ adventure?”
Lalita’s laugh was like the rioja, deep and robust. “I have realized those are wasted on you. You’re going to have to attend one of my Sunday brunches. This talk is mild in comparison.”
The designer’s social events were infamous events with mystery guests, Kat recalled from an old Vanity Fair article that included a guest list compiled of the construction crew from a property she was renovating, supermodels, politicians, and mobsters.
“I’d like for you to try on one of the dresses.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose…” Kat said, even as she set her empty wine glass down on the crystal coffee table. She ran across the room to the sample rack and selected her favorite dress and took off to the dressing room. “But if I must…”
“I can see this is a real hardship for you,” Lalita remarked dryly, settling down on the midnight-blue velvet settee. “Interesting selection. I wouldn’t have pegged you for that style with your exotic looks. You need one of the more exotic styles.”
“Lalita, I believe Leonardo Da Vinci said it best. “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.”,” Kat called from behind the dressing room curtain.
She exited the dressing room, and the protest that Lalita was forming died on her lips.
The sweet modesty of the dress was magnificent on Katerina. Made entirely of silk dupioni, the vintage silhouette with slightly capped sleeves was a popular eighteenth-century style. A form-fitting bodice and a scooping neckline framed the top, attached to a high waistline that fell delicately into a floor-length soft, bell-shaped skirt. Kat had freed her hair from her normal bun, and it fell in a halo of copper curls around her shoulders. Her molasses eyes shone with happiness, and a becoming blush that had nothing to do with cosmetics spread over her cheekbones.
She glided to the center of the room and stood in front of the mirror, smoothing the skirt down before spinning in a full circle to face Lalita confidently. “You were saying?”
Her radiant happiness brought tears to the designer’s eyes. “That I stand corrected. Katerina, you are a vision in this dress! I t
hink perhaps I subconsciously conceived it with you in mind!” she exclaimed.
Kat’s fingers clasped her engagement ring that she wore on a chain and kept tucked underneath her clothing. She hesitated for a split-second then unclasped the chain and slid the ring off and back on her finger. For the first time in three months, she found it simpler to breathe. This was her dress. That day of wedding planning when she’d found it hard to concentrate was because her dream dress hadn’t existed. All that was missing was–
“Those luscious curls need a crown to highlight your glory,” Lalita announced.
“I only have one request. You wear your hair down.”
“Yesss! It’s like you’re reading my mind. It needs to be vintage and more of a delicate style…” Kat fluffed out her curls and studied her reflection thoughtfully. “I would do a celestial pattern and diamonds.”
Lalita snapped her fingers. “I know what you mean! The spike-style crown, not the heavy, religious dome-style. Now, come over here and let me get a good look at that boulder on your hand. My God, it’s stunning! You should be flaunting the hell out of that thing instead of hiding it away! Hold on a second.” She stood up. “I’m sensing a juicy story. I’m going to get our little friend.”
***
“I’ve seen that Holton Brammer! He’s quite a yummy specimen. If I had him in my bed, he could have all of my days!” Lalita slurred, grinning slyly. “My nights too, eh? There’d be no need for anyone else! I can’t believe you ‘kicked him to the curb’ as you young people say.”
“There was no curb-kicking!”
Her boss’s loud belch surprised them both. Giggling uproariously, Lalita covered her mouth. “Oops! Excuse me! Has the time apart been good to you?”
“Okaaay, I think you’ve had enough. I’m just going to take your little friend from you.” Kat had to practically wrestle the bottle from her boss’s grip. “You sure do like your vino.”
“That particular bottle is very, very special to me.” Lalita pointed her finger at Kat. “Stop being evasive and answer me.”
“About time? Yes and no,” Kat reflected. “Time is a double-edged sword. It allows a person to heal yet can also prolong another’s grief. I planned my trip out to a T before arriving. I wasn’t going to mope in one of the greatest cities in the world, no ma’am! I was determined to retroactively celebrate myself and make the most of this adventure and the opportunity you’d provided me.”
“And did you?”
“I like to think so. I visited most of my old stomping grounds and did the tourist things. I’ve gone out with the girls here and thrown myself into designing the collection and learning from you. My days are productive, and I’ve enjoyed all of my past activities,” Kat carefully replied.
But the days weren’t the problem.
It was the nights she was treading water in.
They went on forever, holding her prisoner, refusing to let her forget the way things were. The way Holt looked at her. His laugh, touch, and kiss. Kat was drowning in the overflowing memories. Watching their videos and looking through their pics was her latest addiction. It paled radically in comparison to the real thing. Holton Brammer had irrevocably left his mark on her and she missed him as much as she loved him. After hearing about his cousins’ deaths, Kat reached out and called him. He hadn’t answered, so she’d left a voicemail. Holt’s response was a one-word text.
Thanks.
Kat knew she’d been the one to request the break, but his shortness still cut her to the bone. On top of obsessing about Holt, she couldn’t stop worrying about him. According to her brothers, he was fine. They spoke to him every other week. Kat also knew he’d returned to Whiskey Row the weekend of the Super Bowl for their annual bro-fest and left the next day. She’d never paid much attention to tabloids, especially when they were together. The press could be snarky and intrusive. Kat was now obsessed with European rags because they were obsessed with him, Holton Brammer, the sexy grandson of billionaire magnate Ivar Falk.
“Honey, I don’t know how much grief you’re in, but you make it look divine!” Lalita appraised, making Kat blush.
“Hardly. I’m simply trying to put myself on. This city forces one to elevate their game. The streets are watchin’, and I’m not tryna get caught slippin’,” she half-joked.
Especially with the paparazzi commenting on how she and Holt hadn’t been spotted together in months. Speculation of a breakup had the vultures circling high and low. Kat wasn’t about to bow her head for anything or anyone and let her crown slip.
“I wasn’t referring to your taste, impeccable as it may be. You have to decide what your next move will be. You can’t possibly live like a nun because things didn’t work out.” Lalita threw her arm over her eyes theatrically. “What would that even be like?”
Kat chose to keep quiet on that subject.
“In my opinion, your divine needs a little intervention, dah-ling. This city is full of available men for you to take advantage of! Have you never noticed how the delivery men linger in your vicinity? Or how my lawyer and accountant manage to maneuver you into our conversations? They’re scared shitless of me but are willing to brave my wrath to gawk at you.”
Kat had and wasn’t remotely interested. If it didn’t involve Holton, dating sounded like the most depressing notion she’d ever heard. She got to her feet and carefully hung the wedding dress back up, wistfully running her fingers over it one last time.
“No, thanks. Lalita, this has been a fun and eye-opening evening. However, I should get going. I planned to hit the fashion district bright and early in the morning.”
Lalita also stood, gathering the empty bottle and wine glasses and locked the door behind them.
“Katerina, this change that you’ve made? Has it made you happy personally? Brava for taking time for yourself. Everyone needs time to evolve. But make sure you take the time to answer those questions with brutal honesty. I wouldn’t worry too much of missing the chance with the love of your life. What’s meant to be will always find a way. I’ve no doubt your reign in his heart has not come to an end, min drottning.”
Kat whirled around, her face frozen in shocked confusion. “What did you call me?”
Lalita seemed just as confused. “Min drottning? It’s Swedish for queen. I looked it up when I saw it on that monstrosity you call a desk. What’s wrong, Katerina? Katerina!”
She ignored her boss and ran back to her desk, shoving everything from it as she searched. Kat pulled the desk back from the brick wall and pressed a fist to her mouth to hold in her broken sob. Trembling fingers reached out to trace the exquisite crown in the exact style she’d described to Lalita. Woven through it were the words Min Drottning. Underneath the crown were the words Forever & Always.
“Please explain to me what’s happening, dah-ling! You’re making me nervous.”
Drawing a shuddering breath, Kat managed to keep the emotions at bay. “Tell me about the desk! I assumed that you’d given it to me—”
“And I assumed that you had it brought here along with everything else in this space. A pretty ballsy move that I totally respected.” Recognition flared in Lalita’s eyes. “It’s from him, isn’t it?! My God, how utterly romantic! It’s even better than an orgasm! You have to talk to him now!”
“I wouldn’t know where to start, Lalita,” Kat mumbled.
“Listen to me! I’m going to tell you something that I’ve never told anyone.” Dramatic pause. “I was married once.” Lalita pressed a finger to Kat’s lips.
“Sssh! No questions! I will not repeat myself, and we will never speak of this again. Later, I found out he was a very bad man and did despicable things. Then he began to show me all the ways he was good at being bad. I ran after two weeks of marriage. One of us was going to die if I stayed. I did not want it to be me.”
“Lalita, I’m so sorry—”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago. My point is, a man that doesn’t love you or know your heart would not be capable o
f making such an elaborate and time absorbing gesture. Create the opportunity and present it to him!”
“I realized that the right time didn’t exist until we made it so.”
She grabbed Kat’s stuff and shoved it at her. “Go! We’ll finish this conversation at a later time! You have to brainstorm how you and Brammer are going to make this work!”
“Thank you, Lalita! You’re right. I do have to go!” Kat ran to the elevator and pressed the button. “I enjoyed tonight and your candidness. And the wine!” She was rambling she was so emotional. “It was damned good wine.”
The elevator opened it and she stepped in.
“I knew you’d enjoy it! My lover and I made it! We personally stomped the grapes and made love in the vat, we were so overcome with passion!”
Kat covered her mouth and pressed a hand to her now queasy stomach as the doors slid shut. “Oh my God…”
She spent her time on the way down debating whether to stop at the ER and have her stomach pumped.
***
Stomach growling, Kat decided to make a slight detour to Little Nicky. She ran into Andy Ferrara, who was leaving the Italian eatery when she arrived.
“Andy! Nice to see you!” Her guilt over abandoning Sten’s body threatening to choke her.
“Kat?! No way! What’s up?!”