Katwalk (24 page)

He smiled. “Relax, I’m just teasing you.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” Josh asked.

“A Newcastle would be great, thanks.”

“One Newcastle coming right up. How about a pickleback on top?”

Justin shook his head. “No thanks. I don’t do shots anymore.”

Grace squinted at him. “Then why the hell are you here?”

Shana laughed. “Gracie, don’t be rude.”

“I can’t help it. I
am
rude.” Grace shrugged. “Sorry, Justin. No offense.”

Justin chuckled. “It’s okay. I know you’re rude. No offense taken.”

“Anyone else need a drink?” Josh asked.

“I could use a glass of water,” Katrina said. “A huge one. Or maybe a hose.”

Justin gave Katrina a concerned look. “You doing okay? You look a little woozy.”

“She’s schnockered,” Grace said.

Katrina nodded. “I’m
. . .
schnockered.”

Grace started laughing. “God, we’re a shit show tonight.”

“I think I need to visit the ladies’ room.” Katrina stood up, steadied herself, and cocked her head toward the back of the bar. “I’ll be right back.”

Shana nudged Justin’s arm. “You should go with her to make sure she’s okay.”

“Kitty’s a serious lightweight. She might end up in a gutter,” Grace said.

Josh pointed at her. “Rude.”

Grace pointed back. “Midget.”

Katrina began slogging her way through the crowd, Justin a step or two behind her.

“You sure you’re okay?” He put a hand on her arm as they reached the unisex restroom. Two women stood in line ahead of them. “You really don’t look so great.”

She yanked her arm away from him. “I’m fine. Why should you care anyway?”

“What?”

“Stop being so nice to me, Justin. What is it with you, anyway?”

“What is it with me? What are you talking about?”

She glared at him, tears in her eyes. “Yes, you. Men.
Married
men. All of you. What is it with you?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean where’s
your
wife, Justin?”

He seemed taken aback at the question. “What?”

“Your
wife
. Where is she? It’s Saturday night. Why are you here, talking to me? Being so nice to me? What’s wrong with you? Shouldn’t you be with
her
right now?”

“That’s not fair.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You think that’s not fair? I’ll tell you what’s not fair. You’re
married
, yet here you are, on a Saturday night, at a
bar
, your wife nowhere to be found, being nice to
me
, taking care of
me
.
That’s
not fair, Justin.”

He shook his head. “You’re drunk, Kat.”

“So what? Just because I’m drunk I can’t speak the truth? Isn’t alcohol supposed to make you honest? Didn’t
you
tell me that?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She poked him in the chest. “I don’t? So it’s not true that you’ve been flirting with me since we first met? That you’ve gone out of your way to talk to me every time I came into the coffeehouse? That you’ve made me feel like you actually give a damn about me?”

He stared at her, a confused look in his eyes. Or was it a look of hurt?

She kept talking. “I know what you’ve been doing. Being nice to me, buttering me up so I’ll believe you actually
like
me? All because you’re just waiting for the chance to cheat on your wife, right?” She wasn’t yelling, but her voice was louder than necessary.

“Kat, please, stop.”

A few tears slid down the sides of her face. But she didn’t care.

“It’s not
. . .
fair,” she said, her shoulders slumping.

It’s not fair.

Justin gestured to the vacant restroom, his voice low, a strained look on his face. “It’s your turn, Kat.”

“It’s not
. . .
fair,” she said again. She wiped a tear from her eye, then pushed past him and opened the door.

Inside the restroom, she studied her face in the mirror as she washed and dried her hands, then clumsily reapplied her lip gloss.

Grace is right.

Men aren’t worth it.

They’ll only hurt you.

It’s better to focus on yourself.

When she came back out a few moments later, Justin was gone. She awkwardly maneuvered her way back through the crowd toward the bar, where Grace and Josh now perched on bar stools. Shana was doing tree pose, one foot propped against the inner thigh of her standing leg, both hands above her head in prayer position.

Katrina scanned the room, looking for any sign of Justin.

“Dude, you know the grass
is
always greener,” Grace said to Josh.

Josh picked up his glass. “I disagree. Sometimes you have to give it the old college try.”

Grace shrugged. “I guess you do only live once.
I’d
hate to throw in the towel before the fat lady sings.”

Josh nodded. “You can’t count those chickens before they hatch.”

Shana giggled, her tree wobbling to one side. “You two are nuts.”

“What are they doing?” Katrina asked Shana as she pointed to Josh and Grace.

Shana put down her leg. “They’re having a conversation in clichés. First one to break has to do a shot.”

“Are they always this competitive with each other?”

Shana’s eyes got big. “You have no idea. Last year for Josh’s birthday we had a little Ping-Pong tournament at this fun bar called SPiN that has a bunch of tables, and I thought one of these two was going to end up needing stitches.”

Grace tapped Josh on the shoulder. “Uncle Josh, maybe you’re right. Maybe I
should
put the pedal to the metal. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, you know.”

Josh held up his glass in a toast. “I think you should do that. Money doesn’t grow on trees.”

“How long is this going to go on?” Katrina asked Shana.

Shana shrugged. “Until Tuesday, maybe.”

“Where did Justin go?”

“He’s not with you?”

Katrina shook her head.

“Then I have no idea.”

“It’s true. A penny saved is a penny earned,” Grace said.

“I think he’s mad at me,” Katrina whispered to Shana.

“Mad at you? Why would he be mad at you?”

Katrina frowned. “Because I think I was just mean to him.”

“You can do it,” Josh said to Grace. “Just remember that the early bird gets the worm.”

Shana gave Katrina a strange look. “Why would you be mean to Justin? I can’t imagine you being mean to anyone.”

“I don’t know. I think I was
. . .
projecting.” She stumbled over the word.

“Projecting?”

“But
I’d
have to be careful.” Grace frowned. “As you know, when the cat’s away the mice will play.”

“What did you say to him?” Shana asked.

Katrina pushed a few strands of hair away from her eyes. “I can’t remember exactly. I think I got on his case for coming here tonight, instead of spending the evening with his wife, which he should be doing on a Saturday night, right? I think I accused him of cheating. Or wanting to cheat. It’s all kind of fuzzy.” She pressed a palm against her forehead. “I’ve had too much to drink.”

Shana shook her head slowly. “Oh, Kat . . .”

“I know—it was dumb. I’m stupid. I was just taking things out on him because of what happened with Reid, because of Grace’s boyfriend, because of all of them.”

“True, but then again, a watched pot never boils,” Josh said.

Shana made a pained face. “You really yelled at him?”

Katrina nodded. “But maybe he deserved it. I mean, what
is
he doing at a bar on a Saturday night without his wife? What’s he doing being so sweet to
me
when he should be home with
her
?”

“I guess you could kill two birds with one stone,” Josh said.

Shana shook her head. “Kat, you’ve got it all wrong.”

Katrina squinted, trying to focus her eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Dude, you’re not beating around the bush,” Grace said.

Shana put a hand on Katrina’s shoulder and leaned close to her. “
I
invited Justin here tonight.”

“You did? Why?”

“Well, love conquers all, doesn’t it, Gracie?” Josh said.

“Because I thought
you
might be here.”

“Me? Why?”

Shana hiccupped. “I thought it would be fun for you two to run into each other outside of the coffeehouse. Sort of coincidentical, but on purpose.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You two are so natural together. It’s cute.”

“He’s
married
, Shana.”

Shana leaned closer to Katrina and hiccupped again, then whispered into her ear.

“His wife left him.”

Katrina caught her breath. “What?”

“She ran off with another man. I think it was a friend of his too.”

Katrina covered her mouth. “Oh my gosh. His
friend
?”

“Very bad of both of them.
Very
disloyalcal.” Shana stamped her foot.

“But he wears a wedding ring,” Katrina said.

“Probably hard to let go. It’s a tragical situation.”

“I win!” Josh stood up and lifted his fist overhead. “You broke!”

“Dammit, you do win.” Grace stood up and steadied herself, then wobbled away toward the restroom, followed by Shana.

“Champion again.” Josh lightly pounded his chest.

Katrina tried to wrap her mind around what sh
e’d
just learned.

Justin’s wife had cheated on
him
?

Things suddenly became less fuzzy, and she heard her own words from just a few minutes ago in a new light
.

I mean where’s
your
wife, Justin?

Shouldn’t you be with
her
right now?

What’s wrong with you?

She cringed at the thought of how cruel she had been, how her words must have sounded
.

She closed her eyes.

I’m an idiot.

Chapter Thirteen

The next morning, Katrina woke up with a monster headache, but the memory of the previous night’s events hurt much worse than the throbbing in her temples.

I’m never drinking like that again.

Her mind replayed it all like a slow-motion movie. How had what had begun as such a pleasant afternoon unraveled into
. . .
into such a monstrous, tangled mess?

The matinee.

Drinks with Reid.

Dinner.

The romantic cab ride back to the brownstone.

The horrible incident at her door.

Then tears.

And indignation.

And wine.

And more wine.

Then the drunken conversation with Justin in the bathroom line, followed by Shana’s revelation.

Reid openly cheats on his wife but won’t leave her?

Justin’s wife cheated on him with his friend then left him?

One potential romance, one budding friendship, both blown to bits in the span of a couple of hours.

Why can’t I see things for what they really are?

I’m never drinking like that again.

I’m never flirting with a man again—married, single, or anything in between.

I need aspirin
now
.

She tossed off the covers and sat up in bed, then pressed her hands over her eyes.

Maybe a hot shower would help.

She slowly padded into the bathroom and stripped, tossing her tank top and shorts onto the floor instead of carefully looping them over the hook on the back of the door like she usually did. She turned on the water as hot as she could stand it, then stepped inside and hoped it would melt away the awful feelings ricocheting inside her heart.

“Hey, Kat, how’re you doing today?”

Katrina removed her sunglasses and grimaced. “Hi, Peter, I’ve been better. Is Justin here?”

He shook his head. “He’s at the Upper West Side shop on Sundays, remember?”

Katrina snapped her fingers. “That’s right, I totally forgot. Where exactly is that?”

Peter gave her a sly smile. “You going to visit him?”

“Maybe.”

He jotted down the address on a sticky note and handed it to her. “Tell him I said hi.”

“Thanks. What’s the place called?”

“Same as here.”

“What’s
this
place called?”

“You don’t know?” He looked amused. “You come in here like five times a day.”

Katrina smiled. “I keep meaning to ask but always forget. And for the record, I only come here once a day, sometimes twice.”

He chuckled. “The official business license says A Place for Coffee, and yes, that was meant as a generic equivalent, and yes, I know the sign out front doesn’t say anything.”

“That’s really the name?”

“Yes, ma’am. Justin said that’s how he wanted it.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him. He’s the boss.”

“Got it. Thanks, Peter.” She turned to leave.

“That’s it? No skim latte and blueberry scone?”

She shook her head and put her sunglasses back on. “Not today.”

By the time Katrina made it to the Upper West Side, it was nearly noon. She walked into the coffeehouse and removed her sunglasses, then scanned the room. The place was similar in design and character to the one in her neighborhood, and even featured the same friendly chimes on the front door, but it was much more spacious.

After looking everywhere but directly behind the counter, she finally turned in that direction, ashamed to face Justin but knowing she had to.

There was a long queue of people waiting to order.

Justin was standing at the cash register.

She took a place in line and stared at the floor, suddenly feeling more nervous than hungover.

What should I say to him?

Why was I so awful to him?

H
e’d
been nothing but kind to her, and sh
e’d
lashed out at him for no reason other than the fact that he was married.

And apparently that wasn’t even true.

The line inched forward. She scanned the Sunday paper as she waited, not really reading any particular story. She just couldn’t focus.

Finally, the people in front of her stepped to one side, and there he was.

“Hi, Justin.” She smiled weakly.

He looked surprised. “Kat, hi. What are you doing here?”

She pointed in the direction of downtown. “I stopped by the other place, and Peter said you were here. I
. . .
I wanted to talk to you.”

He glanced behind her, and she turned to see a half-dozen people in line behind her. “I’m kind of busy right now,” he said.

She swallowed. “Yes, of course. I understand. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for last night.” It came out as a whisper, and suddenly she began to cry. She felt a lump form in her stomach as the reality of what sh
e’d
done hit her. Sh
e’d
treated him horribly, and no matter how many times she apologized, she could never take that back. She hoped things could go back to the way they had been. Sh
e’d
be crushed if sh
e’d
ruined things permanently.

He turned toward a woman wiping down one of the espresso machines. “Hey, Karen, can you cover the register for a few minutes?”

She put down the rag and hustled over. “Sure thing, Justin. I got it.”

He nodded toward the far end of the counter, and Katrina followed him. When they reached it, he stopped and handed her a napkin.

“Are you okay?” he said.

She nodded and dabbed her eyes, but she wasn’t okay. Tears slipped down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”

“Look, Kat, I appreciate that you came all the way up here, but you don’t owe me any apologies. It’s not worth crying over.”

“I
do
. And it
is
.” She blew her nose. “I was really out of line, and you didn’t deserve any of it. I don’t know why I behaved like that. That wasn’t like me at all.”

He shrugged. “It happens.”

“Not to me, it doesn’t. I’m not like that, and I don’t want you to think I am. It’s just that
I’d
been out earlier with this guy
. . .
and things hadn’t gone so well
. . .
and I took it out on you.”

He held up a hand to stop her. “I get it. It’s okay, really.”

“I don’t usually drink like that.” Sh
e’d
stopped crying now.

He laughed. “Clearly. You were quite a sight.”

She tossed the napkin into the trash and covered her face with her hands. “I’m so embarrassed. Honestly, I don’t even remember what I said to you. I just know it wasn’t nice, and I hate that I did it.”

“It’s no big deal. People say stupid things when they’re drunk. Why do you think I don’t drink much anymore? Believe me, I’ve put my foot in my mouth many a time.”

She peeked out at him from between her fingers. “I still feel like a horrible person.”

He smiled. “Please. You’re hardly a horrible person. We all do things we regret sometimes.”

She flinched. She knew he was talking about more than just how sh
e’d
treated him. She couldn’t remember exactly what sh
e’d
said about Reid, but she knew it was enough. Justin was no dummy.

She decided to nudge the conversation in another direction.

“Thanks for being so understanding. And Shana told me about your wife. I’m so sorry, Justin.”

“Thanks. I’ll be fine. I’m
. . .
dealing with it.”

“Has it, um, been a long time since
. . . 
?” She wondered again why he was still wearing his wedding ring but thought it would be impolite to ask.

“Since she left me?”

Katrina nodded slightly.
Was that a rude question to ask?
The last thing she wanted was to come across as rude when sh
e’d
come to make amends.

“It’ll be six months next week.” He cleared his throat. “So how’s the head feeling today?”

He clearly wanted to change the subject, so she dropped it. “Oh my gosh, you have no idea. I never knew what a true hangover was before I woke up this morning. I thought I was going to die.” She pressed her palms against her temples.

“I know the feeling—that’s why I do all I can to avoid it.”

“I’ve learned my lesson. Never again.”

He gestured around the room. “So what do you think? It’s bigger than the one in the East Village, but I like to think it has the same vibe.”

“I love it. Hey, that reminds me. I keep forgetting to ask you about the name of this place.”

“Ask me what?”

“Peter said you intentionally have no signage and gave it a generic name. Is that true?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Why?”

“I want people to name it themselves, depending on how it fits into their lives.”

“What do you mean?”

“What do
you
call it?”

“The coffeehouse.”

“Exactly. A lot of people refer to it as the scone place.”

“They do? Really?”

He nodded. “And I’ve noticed older people tend to call it the coffee
shop
, not the coffeehouse. A small difference, but notable in its consistency.”

“Interesting.”

“I think so too. A lot of the college students in this neighborhood call it the breakfast sandwich place. It’s all about people seeing what they want to see, sort of a blank canvas they can paint on themselves.” He pointed at the chalkboard behind the cash register. “Speaking of breakfast sandwiches, what can I get you for that hangover? The egg sandwich and grilled cheese are both favorites with the postparty crowd. Unless you’re going back to your usual?”

She tapped a finger against her chin. “I think it’s definitely time for something new.”