Kat Fight (14 page)

“Very cute. He’s good. He just got back from Vegas and we’re going out to dinner tonight.”

“Don’t get pissy with me for asking, but have you said anything to Julie yet?”

“I plan on telling her tomorrow, actually,” I say as a lump forms in my throat.

“Well good, at least you have a plan. I don’t think it’s going to be easy for you but I know you’ll feel better once it’s off your chest,” Megan says. “Have fun tonight with Ryan—I’m jealous.”

“Don’t be. I love you. But I do have to go, because Brooke is on a rampage this week, and if she catches me on a personal call, I’m a goner.”

“Got it, love you,” she tells me and hangs up.

I manage to get the Bellagio work done in a couple of hours, but when I go to bring them to Brooke I see she is officially gone for the day this time. I figure there’s no reason to confirm that with Carrie, and take it upon myself to make sure the billings get to Dave, personally. Now all I have to do is go home and get dressed for my date with Ryan.

Ryan arrives right on time and meets me in the lobby of my building, so we decide to grab dinner somewhere we can walk to from my apartment. There is a little pub down the street called Smitty’s that serves beer and wine and the kinds of foods one would expect from a place called Smitty’s. Things like mozzarella sticks, chicken wings, mini burgers and jalapeño poppers. It’s located in the garden level of a building on Clark Street so we take a small stairwell down in order to enter the place, and Ryan has to duck his head slightly to get through the entrance. We grab a bar table near the window which gives us a lovely view of people’s shoes as they walk by.

I want to tell him how much I missed him and how much I’d been aching to spend more time alone with him. But from day one, even though he’s been nothing but open with me, he’s still a little hard to read. I’m constantly nervous about putting myself in a vulnerable position with him, and I certainly wouldn’t want him to pull away because I wasn’t hard to get anymore. I’ve been to that party and it’s nothing but a bad time.

Ryan settles onto his stool and leans his body against the wall behind him. “So how did you busy yourself this week?” he asks.

“Same old, same old,” I say.

“I was wondering if you’ve talked to Julie? I’ve been meaning to ask you about that whole thing.”

That “whole thing” is such an odd way of referring to it. Does he mean my friendship with her or his relationship with her? “What do you mean by that?” I attempt to clarify.

“I was just wondering if she knew that you and I have been hanging out,” he explains. “Would you like me to talk to her?”

I fumble with the laminated drink menu sitting atop our table. “No,” I answer. “I have plans with her during the day tomorrow, in fact. I’m going to break the news to her then.” I scan his face for a reaction.

“That’s good. What are you planning to say?”

“I’m not really sure. I want to be honest, but I’m nervous—I just don’t know whether she can handle the entire story all at once.”

Ryan grabs a handful of complimentary peanuts and ponders my plan of action. “Well, you know her better than I do. If you think that’s the best approach then that’s what you should do,” he tells me. “Are you worried about her reaction?”

I let out an uncomfortable laugh. “Yes,” I say. I’m
dreading that moment like no other. I have always thought one of my best qualities is my true and loyal friendship. Undying servitude to those I hold dear. If one of my friends cheats on her boyfriend, I am the one she will confide in and trust with her darkest secrets. If someone wrongs her, I am the friend who will talk smack about that person who hurt her. You will never see me giving the time of day to someone who insults a friend of mine. No, I am the one you can count on to be there for you no matter what. The friend who will never do anything to weaken such an important bond. So breaking the news to Julie that I’m falling in love with a guy that she’s interested in is not a moment I’m looking forward to.

“Look, Kat,” he continues. “I think you know how I feel about you, but the last thing I ever wanted to do was get in the middle of your friendship with Julie.”

His reply is not exactly what I was expecting. “I know that,” I say.

“And I would completely understand if you weren’t comfortable moving forward with this,” he tells me.

I freeze. “Well, I’m not comfortable with it. But what exactly are you saying?”

The waitress brings us our two beers, giving him a moment to formulate his answer.

“I’m just saying that I hate putting you in this position,” he says.

I am now d
esperate for some clarification on where he is going with this. “Well it’s not exactly a
situation
yet, but don’t you think I should say something to her?” I question him and begin to realize that he can sense my panic.

“Here’s the thing, Kat. I care about you a lot, you know that.”

“You said that,” I reply stone-faced.

“Okay.” He smiles and reaches for my hand. “I just don’t want to cause any trouble between you and Julie, that’s all.”

“Well I don’t know what she’s going to say, but what if it did cause trouble between us?” I ask on the brink of suffocation.

He lets go of my hand. “That would be terrible, don’t you think?” he asks.

“Yes, of course, but I just want you to know that I realize what is at stake here and what I’m willing to risk to be with you.” My statement carries a deeper meaning than just my friendship with Julie, only Ryan doesn’t know it. He doesn’t know that I have also destroyed any future relationship with the man I thought I was going to marry. All because I’ve chosen to gamble and bet all my chips on my feelings for Ryan. I take a breath and remind myself that he is unaware of what’s truly at stake here for me. I continue with a much more encouraging demeanor. “I don’t want to sound like I’m making some pathetic, pressure-filled declaration, but as much as Julie means to me, I feel that you might mean more. I would never jeopardize a friendship over someone I didn’t truly care about. And my hope is that she will see that.”

He leans forward and kisses me on the lips almost knocking both beers over. “Okay, okay. I understand. I just felt like I should say something before you go through with it. I don’t want you to resent me for anything.”

We hold hands on the walk back to my place but don’t say much else on the subject of Julie. My heart and mind are racing and I want him to know that I meant what I said. What began as a crush and a distraction from my relationship with Marc has turned into so much more. Maybe Ryan and I are meant to be together. Maybe there is hope for me to forge a new future for myself. I haven’t let myself believe it until now, and I feel the need to show him.

Seeing him walk into my apartment makes the whole place look even smaller than it already is. His height combined with his wide shoulders makes my doorway seem like it belongs in a dollhouse. As soon as he squeezes through, he starts to head for the couch, but I grab his hand and lead him to the bed instead.

“Where are we going?” he asks.

“Shhh.”

I begin to unbutton his shirt and he doesn’t flinch. I can see goose bumps materialize all over his smooth, enormous chest as I brush his shirt to the floor. His arms are so broad and toned that I have to pause for a moment.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he whispers, without moving a glorious muscle, as he knows exactly what I have in mind.

“Shhh,” I repeat.

“Kat,” he whispers my name quietly and tightly grabs the back of my neck.

I decide to relinquish control at this point. I sit on the edge of the bed and he kneels down on the floor in front of me. As he begins to kiss my face, my skin shivers as I fall backward. We spend the rest of the night making sure I have nothing to resent him for.

It’s the morning after my first truly intimate evening with Ryan, and I’m feeling great despite the fact that I’m supposed to have my dreaded talk with Julie. Today is Saturday, and also the highly anticipated Old Town Art Fair—a fabulous annual booze fest, mildly camouflaged by various artisans trying to sell their wares. I’m scheduled to meet Julie at her apartment at eleven o’clock for Bloody Marys and then Beth will meet up with us at the square outside St. Michael’s Church. Ryan snuck out of my apartment around seven thirty to go for a run. I don’t have any definite plans to meet up with him later, but a day of drinking in the sun with hundreds of people is sure to elicit a text from me at some point.

As I walk to Julie’s place, all I really want to do is replay the fabulous, heart-pounding events of the previous evening over and over in my head. It’s been years since I’ve lusted after anyone like this. Years since my skin has literally trembled from someone’s touch. Ryan has become like a drug to me, and this morning I can barely tolerate the withdrawal. Unfortunately, I have other things to concentrate on, so I let my nerves take over instead and focus on my conversation with Julie. I’ve decided to tell her first thing and get it out of the way in the hopes of moving past it and getting on with our day. For some reason, I have convinced myself that she will understand that my behavior is entirely out of character for me, and that I must only be acting this way because I care about Ryan and am ultimately meant to be with him. Surely she’ll understand and think twice about it before arguing with fate. Right?

Julie lives on the top floor of a three-story walk-up and her door is open as I reach the landing. “Hello?” I call from the entryway.

“In here,” she yells from her bathroom. “Should I do a ponytail or hair down?”

“You’re asking
the wrong person. You know I’m Team Ponytail,” I respond and take a seat on one of the stools at her kitchen island.

She saunters out of the bathroom and joins me. “You’re right, but if the Old Town Art Fair is known for one thing it’s gorgeous, single men and my hair looks much better down, dont’cha think?” she asks, not really needing my answer. “Grab a Bloody. I left a pitcher on the counter.”

I go to pour myself a drink and she meets me in her kitchen.

“What time is Beth meeting us?” she asks.

“I think she said noon, right?”

“Okay good, I should be able to finish two of these by then. So what’s going on? Did you and Adam end up grabbing dinner after work last night?”

“No, actually, I went home and hit the couch. I have close to six hours of shows recorded on my DVR I’m trying to get through,” I lie.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know I’ve joined your True Blood bandwagon,” Julie says. “I’m halfway through season one and I’m obsessed,” she declares and walks around to the sink.

Nothing would make me happier than to discuss True Blood right now. To sit and debate the varying degrees of blood-sucking testosterone brought to the screen by Bill and Eric each week. The latter being my favorite. But I have more pressing issues at hand.

“I need to talk to you about something,” I stammer.

“What’s up?” Julie asks and leans back against her kitchen sink.

“Well, it’s about Ryan.”

She scans her brain to confirm whom I’m referencing. “The Chef?” Her nose crinkles. “What about him?”

I sit up a little straighter hoping better posture will give me the added strength I need to get through this conversation. “Well, the thing is… he asked me out,” I inform her and wait for her expression to change, but it doesn’t, so I continue. “Anyway, I said yes, and we went out on a date.”

She tilts her head slightly and responds immediately. “You’re telling me that you went out with Ryan?” Her disbelief forces her to pause. “And you didn’t ask me first?”

I nod and release the breath I’d been holding onto. “Yes, and it’s been killing me.”

“You look okay to me,” she says.

Julie stares at me for a moment trying to gauge, not only my level of betrayal, but also my level of interest in him, I guess. I’m certain she didn’t suspect that we’d already gone out. She’d never imagine that I would deceive her in that way. I watch her take a drink of her cocktail and bob her head very slowly. I can’t tell if she’s waiting for me to interrupt her thought process or not, so I decide to wait for her response.

“I don’t know what to say. I’m shocked he asked you out,” she says.

I ignore the insult and move on. “Julie, if you don’t want me to continue to see him, then I won’t. But I have to tell you that I honestly feel like there is something special between us.” I pause, hoping my words will make an impression. “I can tell you’re uncomfortable with it.”

“Do you
want
to continue to see him?” she poses the obvious question.

“Well, yes, but I don’t want to make you upset. I thought you two were over, and I don’t want things to be weird.”

She’s taken aback. “Oh, you thought we were over?” She raises her eyebrows slightly then turns to rinse something in the sink.

“Aren’t you?”

“Apparently we are!” She laughs, not really humored though, then spins back around to face me.

My hand is resting on her island and I raise my fingers involuntarily in some sort of defensive move. “You are clearly uncomfortable with this, so forget it, seriously,” I blurt out because I don’t know what else to say. I’m not sure what reaction I’d been expecting but this wasn’t it. I’ve just become much more stressed than relieved at having confessed.

“No,” she lifts a hand to me. “What I am
uncomfortable
with is you coming in here all… dumping this on me and saying that you’re going out with Ryan.”

“I didn’t say that I’m going out with him exactly,” I correct her incorrect assessment of what she doesn’t realize she’s correct about.

“What do you want me to say? Do whatever you want, Kat, that’s what you always do anyway!” She walks back around to the other side of the kitchen island and goes to grab her purse from the couch.

I turn to face her. “Julie, look… wait, what does that mean?” I ask flustered and confused by her side comment.

“It means you do what
you
want, and I’ll do what
I
want, okay?”

“I don’t want to fight about this—forget I said anything.” I make a weak attempt at saving face and get up off my stool.

“And what about Marc?” she fumes.

“Marc and I broke up.”

Julie throws her arms in the air. “Please, Kat, you break up all the time! And you were just with him, crying over how he wants to get back together, and how you need to think about it. You know you’re going to get back with Marc, but in the meantime you’re willing to piss me off over some fling with one of my boyfriends? That’s what I
mean
. You just do what you want, Kat, and don’t worry about anyone else.”

My lungs tighten, making it hard for me to speak. “That’s not true at all. I do worry and I’ve been sick about having to tell you about this. I guess I thought for some strange reason that you might understand.” I shake my head. “You’re right, I was devastated by Marc, but as you also know, I am trying to move on.”

“With Ryan?” she asks smugly.

“Yes.”

We stand in silence for a minute. She begins to text someone in the middle of our conversation, intending to make me feel insignificant, I assume. It works.

“I don’t really feel up to the art fair anymore,” Julie says, still texting.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, Kat!” she yells without looking up from her phone.

I don’t know what else to do besides leave at this point. The entire conversation has gone up in flames faster than polyester pajamas. I stand in defeat watching her text and fumble around in her purse.

“I’ll go catch up with Beth,” I say to her. “I really hope you’ll reconsider coming with us,” I say, but she doesn’t even look at me as I grab my bag and head for the door.

Once outside, I begin to walk in a daze. Carefree people line the streets everywhere, spilling out of bars, hanging out on porches and crowding roof decks while I roam the sidewalk on the verge of an emotional breakdown. I head toward the church’s courtyard to meet Beth as my fight with Julie weighs heavily on me. Not only have I potentially alienated one of my best friends, but what will Ryan say now that his fears have been realized? If I lose both Julie and Ryan over this, I’m not sure I’ll be able to recover. I text Adam.

I need to talk asap.

I type furiously with my thumbs.

What’s up?

He texts back.

It old Julie.

I text.

Whats old Julie?

He asks.

I TOLD JULIE!

I go with All Caps.

About a second later my phone rings and it’s him.

“Spill it,” he says.

“Weeeeell, let’s just say I’m wandering the streets alone and she’s back at her apartment throwing darts at my picture.”

“What happened?”

“I went over to her place this morning and told her that Ryan asked me out. I didn’t give her any details, simply that he and I had gone out. Anyway, she basically told me that all I ever do is think about myself and I’m a cold, selfish whore who is willing to ruin my friendship with her and sleep with Ryan to get back at Marc.”

“What’d she really say?”

“Honestly, it wasn’t much different than that,” I assure him.

“Look, she’s insane. Are you trying to tell me that if the tables were turned Julie wouldn’t do the
exact
same thing to you?” He tells me what I want to hear in an effort to calm my nerves.

“Apparently not,” I respond.

He clears his throat. “She will recover, I have no doubt. And I can guarantee the thing she’s most upset about is that Ryan chose you over her. She could probably care less that you’re interested in him,” he says. “It’s the blow to her ego that’s made her so upset.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her like this,” I mutter as I step gingerly over a smashed pile of dog poop.

“Julie will be fine.”

My call waiting beeps, so I look down at my phone. “I’m getting a call from Beth on my other line. Julie must have updated her by now; let me call you back,” I say and quickly click over to answer her call.

“Hello,” I answer.

“What’s going on?” Beth asks politely.

“I assume you talked to Julie?”

“Listened is more like it,” she says.

“I’m on my way to the church now. I’ll fill you in when I get there.”

“Okay, Kat, I’m here waiting.”

I weave my way through as many alleys and side streets as I can find in hopes of avoiding running into anyone I might know. I’m not in the mood for small talk. The church is just a block away and I can see Beth sitting on a concrete bench in front of it. She notices me walking toward her, stands and heads my way. Beth is, and has always been, a peacemaker. Not that our group of friends ever has much turmoil to deal with, but she’s consistently trying to see the good in any situation, and there’s no one else I’d rather see approaching me at this moment.

“Are you crying?” she asks surprised.

“Not yet,” I say with a forced smile.

“Oh, honey, don’t get upset.”

“She’s so pissed at me,” I say.

Beth reaches out and grabs my hand to guide me over to the bench where she’d been sitting. “Tell me what’s going on. The Chef asked you out?” She tries to make sense of the few details Julie has just given her.

“Yes.”

“And from the looks of it you want to go out with him,” she confirms.

I nod and tell Beth the truth. “I already have,” I say.

She looks surprised, so I fill her in on how Ryan and I have become close at work, and subsequently close outside the office as well. Granted she’s not invested like Julie is, but she senses my sincerity and knows immediately that I’m not being frivolous. Something I was clearly unable to convey to Julie.

“Then you should continue to see him,” Beth says. “I think Julie will be just fine,” she says to pacify me.

“You don’t know that.”

“Kat, she’s moved on from him and she knows it. And if she could see you now I think she’d see that this is important to you.”

“I think I’m falling in love with him,” I say as the tears that were temporarily restrained during my walk start to spill out onto my cheeks.

“Oh my,” Beth whispers.