HellKat (5 page)

The image of her mother standing with her stiff posture and sour, disappointed expression on her collagen-injected face galled Kat the most. God, she hated it when that woman was right about anything! Kat’s life choices had already created enough tension with her family. The salacious backstory on today’s outburst couldn’t go beyond Cassie.

“Jesus, just wait until Cassie finds out what you’ve done.” The distraught reflection in the mirror turned mute. Kat winced, braced her hands on the sink, and closed her eyes, head shaking in disgrace. She desperately needed to go home and stand under scalding hot water—all day.

The squeaking outer door signaling someone’s entrance evaporated the cloud of self-pity surrounding her. Kat ripped off a paper towel, pressed it against her damp face, and inhaled deeply before tossing the crumpled wad in the receptacle. When she turned to make her exit, she gulped air and stumbled back.

“What the hell are you doing in a women’s restroom?”

Tucker positioned himself against the door, hands dug deep into his front pockets, the swagger and bravado from yesterday now gone.

“I’m sorry, Kat.”

Her eyes and nostrils flared at his use of her name—the name he’d pretended not to know yesterday.

“Not
nearly
as sorry as I am,
darlin’.
” He winced. “Why are you here? Why haven’t you left yet?”

“I need to explain what happened. Why I made the decision I did.”

No cockiness today. He’d eaten a whole humble pie by himself.

Kat gaped at him, incredulous he would even bother. Then she parked her hands on her hips, her stance defiant. “Don’t want to hear it,
sweetheart
. The time for explaining is long over. You should’ve
explained
who you were yesterday, before you
ever
sat in that booth with me.”

He sighed in defeat and nodded. “No argument there. That’s exactly what I should’ve done.” He watched her, guardedly. “But I didn’t want to.” Kat huffed, rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “You wouldn’t have given me a chance if I had and you know it.”

Kat leveled her scorn at Tucker.

“You mean not given you the chance to use, embarrass, and humiliate me? Yeah, you’re right. I would
never
have given you that chance.” The anger bubbled and boiled, her tone laced with hurt and shame.

He nodded. “I know.” His cheek twitched from the tight clench of his jaw. “You think I don’t know I’m not your type? Look at you. The picture of high class. And me, well, not so much. And if I’d told you who I was yesterday, you never would’ve looked at me as anything other than an investor, a business partner.”

“How the hell would you know anything, huh? Maybe that’s just the way I do things. The way I close deals—
up against a fucking wall
!”

He flinched. “I know better than that.”

“Like hell you do! You don’t know shit about me, and I know less than shit about you! Oh well, I guess I do know a bit more now, don’t I? But that’s really beside the point. It’s too little, and way too damn late.

“I made a really bad call last night.” She laughed in disdain at the punishment handed down to her for having been too horny to think straight. “What an understatement that is.” Her attention drifted in contemplation.

“There was a time when a mistake like this wouldn’t have even been worth a second thought to me. But,” she paused, “I’m not a girl anymore. I have responsibilities, a business, ambitions … And it’s all harder when you’re a woman in a man’s world. There’s even less room for error, for poor judgment.”

She dropped her head and stared at the tiled floor, folded her arms around herself. Tucker started to speak, but Kat silenced him with the slice of her hand through the air.

“Shut the hell up! I really don’t want to hear your voice. I don’t even want to look at you. I don’t want to be anywhere near you.” The rage of adrenaline rushed out of her body, left her feeling cold and limp, the fight draining away. Shaking her head in regret, she spoke just above a whisper and refused to look at him. “Get away from the door. I want out. Now.” She moved toward the exit, and Tucker reluctantly let her pass.

On her way out, she glanced back, not at him but past him at some distant focal point. Her voice void of emotion, she said, “I know Cassie, and she’ll do her best to save this deal. Understand one thing: I will never sign off on anything you’re involved in.”

Declaration made, Kat James walked away with the dangling shred of dignity she still had intact.

She trudged back to her office as all the lies and omissions from yesterday replayed in her head:
I’ll leave as soon as your mystery person gets here; I’m from all over; a little of this, a little of that.
And her personal favorite:
what you see is what you get
. Nausea bubbled in her belly. She grabbed her bag. Time to go home. She needed to hide out and lick her wounds.

Before exiting her office, Kat walked back to the trash can next to her desk. She retrieved the talking points tossed there earlier. The truth stared back at her in black and white, plain as day. Diamond Industries, Owner/President: Tucker
fucking
Williams. The only thing he hadn’t lied about—his name. The image next to the business profile showed a slightly younger man with shorter hair, an easy smile, wearing an open-collared, button-down shirt. Kat wadded the paper tightly and tossed it back in the trash—where it belonged.

Cassie’s frantic voice and the sound of glass fragments underfoot assaulted Kat’s senses.

“I’ve already contacted the building manager about cleaning up this mess and replacing the glass panel.” She hesitated, watching Kat with a worried expression. “My God, Kat, what’s going on? You’d better have a good explanation about what just happened. You know finding a credible investor isn’t easy. And I don’t think I need to remind you we’re asking for a
substantial
investment.”

“I know.” The words burned her throat. She’d ruined this for them.

Cassie continued to talk, but Kat walked past her.

“I’m going home. I may not be in for a few days. I’m not feeling well.”

In the distance, Tucker stood in the lobby. Cassie had probably herded him back in an attempt to salvage scraps from the wreckage. As Kat advanced closer, she held her breath and walked by him, not even wanting to share the same air with him. She held her head high, shoulders back, and walked with purpose. Out the corner of her eye, Tucker Williams seemed to have shrunken a bit.

No longer larger than life.

Six months passed without much free time to dwell on mistakes or poor judgment. Kat and Cassie had worked hard. They’d teamed up with another investor and the expansion of J&P Enterprise, now well underway, continued to roll out smoothly. And now the fruits of their labor meant they could finally begin to enjoy a bit of downtime and more reasonable work hours. The lack of playtime hadn’t bothered Kat; penance well deserved for going off the rails, with
him
.

After the embarrassing debacle at the office with Tucker Williams, Cassie hadn’t let Kat off the hook. She’d camped outside her apartment and pounded on the door until Kat had finally caved and let her inside. Once she’d confessed the sordid details, Cassie had become an avowed Tucker Williams hater and had given Kat the love and support she’d needed to put the embarrassing fiasco behind her. Their thirty year friendship trumped business.

After swearing Cassie to secrecy, Kat had sealed the tainted memory shut, never to be spoken of again. The fallout from the Montana mountain man had realigned her focus and her goals.

A positive from a negative.

Kat pulled herself from the introspection as the echo of chatter in her parents’ wide penthouse foyer filtered into her consciousness. She scanned the gathering; nieces and nephews and sisters-in-law, their heads bobbing in conversation and polite laughter. Kat sighed in relief, another James family function marked off the calendar, overdone with her mother’s customary flair for pomp and circumstance. Kyle, her youngest brother, had missed the festooned Easter celebration. He was still out of the country on business.

Lucky bastard.

Kyle had always made these photo ops more bearable for her. Yes, a professional photographer had been hired to snap
candid
pictures of her pretentious family, and said pictures would end up in the society pages.

Kat waited a safe distance from the fray, her eyes skipping around the area, noting smiles, handshakes, and nods. She wished she felt closer to these people. They were her family after all. But she’d learned over the years that blood is not always thicker than water. Kat’s backbone and independence had been a detriment, had made her an outsider from the beginning in this Machiavellian cast.

She searched for Grant, her date, locating him as he held their coats at the other side of the vestibule. Unfortunately, her mother had him pinned. Poor Grant.

An artful bump to her back jerked Kat’s attention to her least favorite person of the bunch.

“He’s far better than you deserve,” Parker said in her ear, with a sneer. Her middle brother was discreet as always, no witnesses to hear his snarky, whispered insults.

Asshole.

She subtly angled her heeled foot behind her and Parker stumbled over it. He quickly straightened himself and shot a scathing look her way. She smirked at him, satisfaction written on her face. No one around them seemed to notice their scuffle; business as usual in the James family. She’d confronted Parker more than once in the past about his nasty attitude toward her. But he’d only ever answered her with cold, hard stares. She no longer cared why he disliked her. She had far better uses for her time than giving a damn about her haughty brother.

Kat’s focus resettled on the man to whom Parker had referred: Grant Collins, the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. He stood listening, trapped in a corner and patient as always, while Sarah James fawned over him. Her bejeweled wrist was draped around his arm. Kat considered intervening but instead enjoyed the view of her attractive date.

Grant’s exterior had been a slam dunk at first sight when she’d met him after a run in Central Park. Kat had been relaxing on a bench, watching the radio-controlled sailboats and yachts at Conservatory Water. Grant had stopped nearby to stretch and cool down after his own workout. Then he’d sat quietly, unobtrusively, on the other end of the bench, eventually introducing himself.

After an hour of easy conversation, they’d walked to a nearby deli and ordered sandwiches and smoothies and then spent several hours talking, getting to know each other. It hadn’t taken Kat long to size up Grant. He’d definitely fit the bill on the outside and seemed to be a good man on the inside too. And after a few dates, she’d found herself ticking off a number of items on her long checklist: ambitious, successful, well educated, polite, regular haircuts, clean-shaven, no hint of arrogance, and no cowboy boots. And he didn’t delight in pissing her off.

Yeah, she’d added new items to the list. And, as another checkmark on her revised tally, Grant had gotten Cassie’s seal of approval. Always good to have.

But the real shocker remained Sarah James. The woman adored Grant, almost embarrassingly so. In fact, Kat believed her mother liked him better than her. After all, marrying off her spinster daughter before her eggs expired ranked as Sarah James’s number-one priority. And Kat had grown weary over the years with the parade of New York’s most eligible bachelors—or highest bidders, as she referred to them—whom her overbearing mother foisted upon her without the slightest regard, or warning. Of course, Kat had time on her side. At her age, bachelors without children and alimony landed high on the endangered species list, making her mother’s mission nearly impossible at this point.

So, when Grant Collins had rescued her by parachuting into her life, she’d hoped her matchmaking mother might finally ease up.

Yet, she and Grant still hadn’t hit the sheets. She hadn’t even invited him up for drinks. They’d been seeing each other for over a month, and she knew had they met earlier, before
him
, they would’ve had toothbrushes at each other’s apartments by now.

She chastised herself for delaying the sex and honeymoon phase of their new relationship. The fun never lasted, of course, but she still enjoyed every second until the masks came off. But so far, Grant seemed perfect. Too perfect. She reminded herself to give him time to relax, time to slip up. However, waiting for his flaws to crack the surface amounted to a diversion from what bothered her most of all. From
who
bothered her most of all …

Kat stretched her neck in an attempt to ease the tension, cast away the unwanted thoughts that stuck to her like tacky flypaper. She bristled at the memory of
him
. The conflicted feelings that slow-talking Neanderthal still evoked in her sent fire coursing through her veins.

Just when she believed her demeaning error in judgment had finally been put to rest, some visceral image of him would pop into her head again: his dimpled smile, his pale blue eyes full of fun, his demanding lips and hands—everywhere on her willing body. Kat squeezed her eyes shut. Even under threat of torture, she would never confess that when in need of release, vivid memories of their one scorching night had rescued her more often than she cared to count.

Grant was the only man she’d dated for any length of time since the blunder with Tucker. She’d kept herself far too busy, on purpose.

However, old habits had found her finger hovering more than once over a familiar contact still in her phone. But she’d refrained from calling Dan. The memories of their fights and why she’d ended their quasi-relationship wouldn’t allow her to take the easy way out again. She refused to put either of them through the inevitable torment—no matter how much she missed her old friend’s company, or his touch. She’d cut their cord for a reason, determined to go solo, determined to prove to both of them she could. And with only the best intentions, he wanted her to fail.

Her mind skipped back to Grant. How much longer would his patience last with their dates ending in only fevered kisses and tentative touches? Although, to be honest, his restraint baffled her. The slow pace she’d set didn’t seem to bother him. He’d had a long-term relationship end badly less than a year ago. She figured he was on the mend, hesitant to jump without first knowing exactly where he’d land.

Her own hesitancy made her feel silly, even though she admired his self-control, wished she’d had some herself six months ago. She hadn’t decided yet how this evening would end. A part of her wanted to reward his quiet, steady persistence. The other part of her just wanted a man again. Strong hands on her body, muscular weight on top of her—and underneath her.

Time to help the poor guy. Kat strode toward Grant. He broke free from Sarah’s clutches after she pressed an air-kiss to each side of his face. Then he shook hands with Henry James, who’d listened nearby, watching his daughter’s date, with a peculiar expression. As she made her approach Kat’s attention drifted to her father. He stood ramrod straight in his black tux, his eyes now fixed on hers as if searching for some answer in them.

Grant stepped in front of her, a warm smile lighting his face, and she turned to allow his help with slipping on her coat. Maybe I’ll invite him up tonight, she mused.
Maybe
. The equivocation puzzled her. What the hell was wrong?

What was stopping her?

“Kathryn, darling, I’m delighted you were able to join us for dinner this evening. The celebration simply would not have been the same without you.” Sarah’s eyes remained firmly fastened to Grant’s.

Right. Kat’s presence bothered her mother far more than her absence ever had. Their relationship only grew more strained with the tick of time. But when Sarah James wanted something—like the perfect son-in-law, an investment banker born into old New York money—the woman could lay on the honey-soaked lies, and thick.

“When I accepted the Collinses’ invitation for Easter brunch, I never would’ve imagined you’d rearrange your entire holiday schedule, Mother,
just for
me
.” Kat gave Grant a quick, knowing glance. Sarah nodded nervously, fiddling with the pearls at her throat.

Kat’s sharp focus shifted to her father. For a second she glimpsed amusement in his eyes, then it vanished, replaced with an unsteady aloofness. For so long she’d wanted to say to him, “Tell me what you’re thinking. Talk to me … about anything ...” But Henry James was a man of few words, and even less affection.

Grant grasped her hand in his velvety smooth palm and steered them toward the private penthouse elevator where they awaited the next ride to freedom.

“Lunch next week at the Metropolitan Club?” Charlie, Kat’s eldest brother, asked Grant, as he and his wife joined them by the elevator.

“I’ll have my secretary compare calendars with yours. How’s that sound?” Grant replied.

“Perfect,” Charlie said, with a couple of pats to Grant’s shoulder.

Kat could feel Charlie’s hypercritical eyes drilling into her, demanding her attention, insisting that she acknowledge his magnanimous efforts with Grant.

Over her dead body.

Charlie had had no problem over the years shoving his judgmental finger in her face time and again—at their mother’s command, no doubt; his words simply rang too familiar. When Sarah’s censures had failed to make a difference, she’d clearly used Charlie as a mouthpiece to convey her own embarrassment with Kat’s string of men and apparent lack of family values.

One question still gnawed at Kat: why hadn’t her father ever commented?

The couples entered the shiny gold car and Charlie pressed the down button.

When the doors slid shut on her father’s unflinching gaze, Kat reaffirmed her reason for continuing to attend these hollow family affairs: the childish hope that one day Henry James would allow her into his world.

Hell, she’d settle for his smile.

****

No more skulking, watching, waiting until her lights went out after midnight. No more behaving like a damn stalker or a schoolboy who couldn’t muster the nerve to talk to a pretty girl. He’d wanted to make sure she didn’t have a boyfriend and wasn’t completely sure she didn’t. Oh yeah, she’d met the same guy for lunch and dinner Friday night, then saw him Saturday night and had spent the whole damn day with him today. She still hadn’t come home yet. He gritted his teeth. What did he expect? It was a holiday. One that a lot of people spent with family. Something he didn’t have. Tucker shutdown the pity party to focus on the here and now, and the one positive he could see in all of this: Kat’s guy never went up to her apartment; she’d waved him off in a taxi both nights. Tucker had pinned his hopes on her doing the same tonight. He’d convinced himself there was a chance this guy wasn’t anybody serious—yet.

Christ, he needed that to be true.