Katia's Promise (8 page)

His blue eyes were earnest as they searched her face, cooling Katia’s temper. His voice was calming.

“I always thought our mothers’ attitudes were worse than old-fashioned,” he said. “My mother harbored many prejudices, and social class was one of them. She used that thinking against me, as well. Your mother wanted a better life for you, as would be expected. Maybe if my mother hadn’t been so fearful and had trusted us a little more, she would have realized that marriage to me wouldn’t have been a bad thing.”

Katia thrust her hands up and shook her head to stop him. “Wait a minute. Who said anything about marriage? I certainly never brought up the subject.”

“No, you didn’t. I do remember that part correctly,” he replied with distinct sadness in his tone. “But I thought about it a lot, actually. Especially once I left Indian Lake for York.”

Katia’s ire died a quick death. “You did?” she asked. She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her. “I had no idea.”

“How could you? I was gone for the last three years you were here, and I obviously didn’t mention it to you. I’m surprised your mother didn’t hustle you out of town sooner than she did.”

Katia wondered how so many emotions could have been trapped inside her for so long. Just being here with Austin had reawakened something in her. Though she wasn’t quite sure if it was love, nostalgia or simply relief from her guilt, Katia knew that only Austin could have performed this kind of magic.

“Katia. I still have a dozen—no, hundreds—of questions I want to ask you.”

Katia felt as if she was being sucked into a whirlwind of emotions she hadn’t been prepared for. She needed to breathe and sort out her feelings. One thing was for sure—being with Austin for even a little while was confusing and unsettling.

“Oh, my—I forgot. Your dinner is waiting and I promised Mrs. Beabots I would join her for dinner. I didn’t think I would be gone quite this long.”

She bent to retrieve her purse from beside the chair.

“Sure. Maybe another time,” he said with a melancholy tone.

Katia realized that, to Austin, this must feel as though she was walking out of his life...again.

She had to stop that kind of reaction from taking hold. “Great!” she said brightly. “I understand you play tennis with Rafe Barzonni quite often. How would you two feel if I joined you sometime?”

“You still play?” He seemed surprised.

“I joined a tennis club right out of high school. I bet I can beat you now,” she teased with enough challenge in her eyes to elicit a raised eyebrow from him.

“We’re supposed to play on Sunday afternoon.”

“Oh, not till then?” She looked at him with the full force of her gaze. “I was thinking I’d like to see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be at the plant all day. I don’t see how...”

She tilted her head to the side. “I’ll be scouring antiques shops for office furniture. Maybe I’ll stop by.”

Austin turned and started toward the hall. “Okay, fine.”

She followed him to the front door. She wanted to kiss his cheek, but his cool gaze kept her at arm’s length. “Thanks for seeing me tonight, Austin. I don’t think I could have moved to Indian Lake knowing that my friend wasn’t my friend anymore.”

“Sure.” He made no move to hug her or kiss her or even shake her hand. Katia didn’t know if that was just his way now, or if she should read more into it.

She walked away feeling a bit hollow. Austin didn’t seem at all relieved by their conversation. Was he still angry? Or was he having a hard time trusting her still?

Neither option was good for her.

* * *

A
USTIN
WATCHED
K
ATIA
leave, and slowly shut the door. He walked back into the living room and looked down at the two chairs where they’d been sitting.

Her perfume still lingered in the air, and for just a brief moment, he chided himself for not taking her into his arms and kissing her.

Better to keep her as an acquaintance
, he reminded himself. Katia had betrayed him.

Austin had waited so many years to finally point the finger at Katia and accuse her of the heinous crime she’d committed, but now he didn’t know how he felt. One minute he wanted to fold her into his arms, and the next he truly wanted to throw her out. Maybe Stephania and his mother had been right all along. Maybe he and Katia were wrong for each other. He’d been born into a different social world than she had, and it had separated them in the past. But this was now. The playing court was level.

Katia would have to earn her way back to his friendship. Romance was strictly out of the question. He’d been burned once. He didn’t plan on a second time.

If he wanted to protect his heart, he should never see her again.

CHAPTER NINE

J
ACK
HAD
GIVEN
Katia a tight budget to furnish the new office, so she knew she’d have to be both fiscally and artistically creative. Because every car passing through the busiest intersection in the county would be able to see into Carter and Associates, she wanted to achieve the maximum effect with furnishings and signage.

The loft had antique light maple floors that looked contemporary against the old redbrick walls. The space was completely open, with only a large storage area and small bathroom in the back, but Katia knew they would need at least one enclosed office for private meetings with clients. Luckily, Mrs. Beabots had introduced her to Sarah and Luke Bosworth, and Katia had hired Luke’s company to build walls and a door, and if they could afford it, she wanted to add an etched-glass window she’d designed herself. Luke had promised to work up a quote once he got the prices on the materials.

In the meantime, she had made calls to the local antiques stores and sourced several desks, chairs, tables and lamps. She’d found that used furniture was a higher value than the cheap, prefab box-store variety. Even if some pieces cost more at the outset, they were usually much better quality and lasted longer.

Katia knew Indian Lake was the kind of town where she and Jack would have to get to know the local retailers on a first-name basis. Katia had always prided herself on her ability to bargain hunt, and this expedition was going to test her skills to the max.

She had hoped Jack and Barry would move some of the office furniture from Chicago to Indian Lake, but they were only planning to ship the computers and other equipment. The finer pieces of furniture had all been rented, and Barry had paid for all of the bookshelves, file cabinets and his own office furnishings himself. Jack would bring his own desk and two executive chairs, at least, so Katia’s budget didn’t have to include those items.

She intended to focus on the reception area, which would include the walls of windows. She envisioned two bergère chairs, even if she had to use her own, and fabulous crystal lamps on marble-top tables. In the corners, she would place tall white bird of paradise plants in French jardinières and light them from below with halogen lamps. She wanted the area to shout “security.” After all, that’s what they were selling.

To keep costs low, she’d hired someone to paint
Carter and Associates
in bright gold letters across the window that faced Main Street, with their phone number and website written below. Jack had mumbled his disapproval, but he’d acquiesced when she explained that the painter cost them one-tenth the price of a sign.

As Katia stood in the empty loft overlooking the traffic, her cell phone rang.

“Jack,” she said. “Why don’t you just put me on permanent hold? You’ll save time dialing my number all the time.” This was his fifth phone call of the morning.

Katia’s to-do list was a mile long—no, two miles long—and each of his calls felt increasingly unnecessary. Didn’t he trust her to do the job correctly? Or was it just that he missed having her in the office? How many times had Tina teased her that she was Jack’s “office wife” and that he couldn’t live without her? This was the first time Katia had actually been away from the office for longer than a couple days. Her sales trips were mostly overnighters. Now she was truly away from Jack.

Even when she’d taken a vacation, it had never been more than an extra Friday for a long weekend, which she usually spent shopping with a friend from work or going to a play. Katia’s focus had always been her job and her career.

“You’re on speed dial,” Jack retorted. “I just talked to the movers here, and I’m having Tina pack up as much as she can to get it sent over to you.”

“Jack...” She sighed deeply, wondering what planet he lived on. It certainly wasn’t earth. “I just got here. I won’t even have my own furniture here till Saturday. I’m sleeping in my landlady’s guest room right now. Plus, I don’t have the specs for your office build-out yet.”

“That’s fine. Just put this stuff where you can. We’re having to get out of here sooner than we thought.”

Katia’s whirring mind stopped cold. Something wasn’t right. Jack was a thorough man and meticulous about everything regarding his business. Barry, on the other hand...

“What did Barry do?”

“Oh, you’re good. Nothing gets past you, does it? That’s why I like having you around.” He paused and then rushed on. “Turns out Barry thought he’d save us another five grand, which he did. But the caveat is that we have to clear out of this building by the end of next week. We can do that, but we’re scrambling. Rather than move the computers, phones and stuff to my condo, I’ll just have them shipped there.”

“Fine. So, Jack, this would mean that you’d be coming here sooner than you thought?”

“It does. I have a call in to Cate Sullivan, but could you nudge her a bit from your end, as well? She can email me photos and specs of those lake condos.”

Katia crossed her fingers. From her conversations with Maddie, who was building a house on the lake with her fiancé, Nate, Katia was aware that any condo up for rental there would be take it or leave it. They tended to get snatched up fast. “I’ll do it as soon as we’re off the phone.”

“Thanks. And good luck with the furniture shopping.”

“As soon as the painter arrives, I’m off.”

“What? You’re leaving a workman at the office with no supervision?”

Katia chuckled. Jack was going to have culture shock when he arrived in Indian Lake. Not only was there nothing to steal in the office, but the painter was none other than Isabelle Hawks, Maddie and Liz’s friend. Isabelle had jumped at the job, telling Katia the extra cash would help her pay the entrance fee for a gallery showing and possible award in Phoenix. Over the summer, Isabelle had created a new series of aquatic fantasy acrylics, and she was ready to exhibit them. Katia was delighted that Carter and Associates was already helping an Indian Lake resident.

“It’s not a problem. The artist is a friend of a friend.”

“Oh,” Jack replied with the edge of humility she’d always admired in him. “Okay. Well, you’ve got that handled. Let me know how the bargain hunting goes.”

“Believe me, I will,” she said.

As she hung up, the bell rang in the downstairs hall. It was Isabelle, and Katia buzzed her up.

Isabelle’s pretty heart-shaped face was filled with delight as she walked up the stairs carrying a box of brushes, rags, stencils and a can of paint. “You must be Katia,” she said with a bright smile.

“I am. Here, let me help you.” Katia took the can of paint and held the door for Isabelle.

Isabelle stepped into the office and looked around. “Wow. This is gorgeous, and it’s huge! What a wonderful place to work.” She headed straight for the window. “The view is fantastic, and the courthouse is so majestic from here.”

Katia stood next to her. “I’ve always loved that clock tower. Now with all the pear trees lining the street and the flower planters, it’s just...”

“Idyllic,” Isabelle said, taking two steps back and turning to glance out the west-facing window. She walked down the length of it and came back, then she went to the middle of the room and sat down, still looking at the windows.

Katia kept her silence, thinking that she had certainly hired the right person. Isabelle was taking account of the view from all angles. She was considering the workers at their desks and the clients who would sit in the reception area.

“I circled the building for the past half hour, approaching it from each direction, to get a sense of what passing drivers would see. This is definitely the best office space in town, and I’m so glad you have it. Short of a lit sign in Times Square, it doesn’t get any better. But to do this right, I want to use a block lettering that won’t cut out a lot of your view. I’ll put
Insurance
and the phone number in block on the west window.

Katia knew to keep her poker face when bargaining, and she guessed this was Isabelle’s way of increasing the fee. “How much extra will that cost?”

“Nothing,” Isabelle replied lightly. “I want this to be perfect for you, being Mrs. Beabots’s friend. Everyone in town will know I painted it, so I promise it will be beautiful and just what you want. I can sketch out the letters to show your boss,” she offered.

“Excellent idea,” Katia said. “I’ll text a photo to Jack. If he approves, we’ll do it.”

Within moments of sending Jack the font sketches, Katia received his reply with the go-ahead.

“Fantastic,” Isabelle said, pulling a paint-splashed white smock out of her supply box. “I’ll just get to work, then.”

“I have to leave you alone for a few hours. I’m off to find some chairs and desks. For the office,” Katia explained, retrieving her purse and keys from the corner near the windows.

She checked her phone. Low battery, just as she thought. Too many calls from Jack. She’d have to recharge in the car.

Katia turned to wave to Isabelle, who was staring at the brick wall.

“What are you putting up there?” Isabelle asked.

“I hadn’t gotten that far.”

“If I showed you some of my paintings and you liked a few, would you be willing to display them?”

Katia was intrigued. She hadn’t thought of showcasing local artists, but suddenly she found she liked the idea a lot. “What kind of paintings?”

“Acrylics and oils, mostly. Many are landscapes, and like I said, I have my new fantasy series. I can’t paint enough of those ones.”

“I like this idea. Should I come to your place to see them?”

“Sure. If you don’t mind. Though I have to warn you that my apartment is very cramped. The money I save by renting such a small space helps me buy more canvases.”

Katia knew she was standing in front of a genuine artist. This woman was as much about her art as Katia had always been about her career. Katia felt she understood Isabelle completely. “You tell me what’s convenient for you, and we’ll set a meeting.”

“Monday is the best for me right now. The Lodge will be closing for the season right after Halloween. Then I’ll have a great deal of free time.”

“Okay, Monday it is. We’ll talk about a time when I get back. How’s that sound?”

Isabelle beamed. “Perfect.”

* * *

T
HE
M
C
C
REARY
AUTO
-
PARTS
plant was housed in a hangar-like building that resembled another half dozen manufacturing plants around Indian Lake. There was nothing distinctive about the single metal door, the fading summer flowers around the flagpole or even the corporate logo on the small, dark wood sign out front. To an outsider, it was just another factory. To Katia, it was Mecca. Or at least it had the potential to be.

To Katia, the plant was a perfect place to lay the groundwork for the insurance package she intended to sell him.

She didn’t have his cell phone number, but she’d told him she was visiting, so obviously he wasn’t too concerned about her calling ahead.

She entered the company’s reception area and was jolted into the past. If there had been any renovations, they certainly hadn’t started here, where first impressions were so important.

The space was not much larger than an average bedroom and was divided in half by a long counter faced with cheap 1970s paneling. Behind the counter was a bleached-blond woman in her midsixties who wore stop-sign red lipstick, rhinestone-encrusted reading glasses and enough black eyeliner to make a raccoon envious. She looked up, gave Katia a once-over and apparently found her pleasing because she broke into a broad smile that rivaled the fluorescent light overhead. “Well, hello, dear! How can I help you?”

“My name is Katia Stanislaus. I’m here to see Austin. Is he busy?”

“Busy? He’s always busy.” She chuckled, making her very heavy jowls shake. “Is he expecting you?” She peered at an appointment book in front of her. “I don’t see your name down here.”

“He didn’t schedule a time. It’s not a formal visit.”

“Oh?” She shot Katia a curious glance over the top of her glasses. “He didn’t tell me, either.”

“I’m an old friend.”

“I’m Midge,” the receptionist said, reaching for the telephone. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” Midge rang Austin’s office, but there was no answer. She hung up and checked the clock hanging on the paneled wall behind her. “I know where he is. Follow me.”

Midge rose slowly from her chair and went to a door marked Employees Only.

Katia remembered that this door led to the management and billing offices, but she was surprised to see that the hallway of offices was gone. They were standing in the middle of an open area with a concrete floor, high ceilings, a metal roof and metal walls. To the right were three double-wide garage doors, two of which were open. A pickup truck was parked just inside one door, and another car was up on a lift. To Katia’s left were shelves filled with motor oil, solvents, auto paint, antifreeze and mechanics’ tools. Under the car on the lift, two men were discussing a problem with the catalytic converter, a connecting pipe and the need for a new muffler. Two legs and part of a mechanics’ dolly stuck out from under the pickup.

Katia may have been standing in a garage, but she knew this space was something else. It was one of Austin’s childhood dreams.

“Mr. McCreary,” Midge shouted over the din of air tools and male conversations.

“Yeah?” came Austin’s voice. “Darn!” he yelped.

“You okay, Austin?” one of the men under the raised car answered back.

“Fine, fine. I just dropped the screw I was using. I’ll find it.”

Midge put her hand on her hip. “Visitor to see you, Mr. McCreary.”

“Tell them I’m busy,” Austin answered.

Midge started to reply, but Katia grabbed her arm and put her finger to her lips. Midge smiled knowingly and nodded, apparently quite pleased to be included in Katia’s game. Katia walked over to the car, her high heels clicking on the concrete. The
tap-tap-tap
was distinct enough to be heard above the tools and laughter. The men grew silent and turned toward Katia.