Chapter 6
Zane
I stood outside Starbucks and watched Kathryn approach. She looked radiant, her hair bouncing with her step and the skirt of her slim fitted red dress flaring around her knees with her confident steps. When she caught sight of me, her step faltered slightly, but then she smiled and got her stride back. I wondered what that was about and hoped I wasn’t in for more trouble.
I shouldn’t have to work so hard to hide anything, even if I couldn’t tell her the complete truth. And we could focus more on having a good time than answering questions. She stopped in front of me, and I reached out and hugged her. Her body molded against mine, even though she didn’t exactly hug me in return.
“Hello, gorgeous,” I said.
She blushed. “Hi, yourself. I guess you realized I’m at my best when I have a cup of joe in my hand.”
I laughed shortly. “I guess I thought if you didn’t want to come just to see me, I could entice you with the coffee.” I held the door open to let her in and followed behind. We ordered and waited in silence until we had our drinks. Kathryn didn’t seem as warm to me as usual. I wondered if it was because I’d waited so long to call. That would be typical for a woman, but Kathryn was anything but average.
I put it up to what may have been a long, hard day at work as we found a table outside. The weather was still a little cooler than it had been, and I wanted to take advantage of every last second. But as we sat down, she narrowed those beautiful eyes at me, and I knew something else bothered her. “You know, I sent a couple of texts and tried to call you,” she said.
I frowned. I hadn’t gotten any messages from her. “I never saw a missed call or anything.”
“That’s because I apparently don’t have your cell number. I didn’t know that until I tried to call you earlier today.” Her smile faded. “How could you give me the phone number to the club? I thought we’d cleared the air.”
I winced. I couldn’t believe my mistake. Of course, the mistake wasn’t giving her the wrong number. It was not forwarding the line from the club to my cell phone. I couldn’t have calls from a strange number coming to my cell, and I couldn’t risk texts. If Sam got a bug up her ass and checked into my personal contacts, I had to look clean.
“I’m so sorry,” I told Kathryn. “That was an accident. I spend so much time at the club, it’s like my second home, and I mix up the numbers all the time. If you’d left a message, I would have gotten it, though. I check it all the time.”
She didn’t want to buy it, I could tell. “So, you’re saying you just spouted off the number without thinking about it? You didn’t do it on purpose.”
I shook my head. “Of course not. I wanted to hear from you. In fact, I wondered why you didn’t call, and it turns out that was my fault all along. Here, take out your phone. I’ll give you the right number.”
I thought fast. I had a burner phone, another like the one from the club, that was already forwarded to this number. I’d used it a few times in the past, when I didn’t want to explain certain things to Sam, and now, I had to flip through my mental Rolodex while Kathryn took out her phone to remember the number.
I gave it to her, and she quirked a brow at me. “So, if I call this number, right now, your phone will ring?”
I said, “Dial it.” She pressed a button and waited, and three seconds later, my phone buzzed in my hand. “See?”
She seemed pacified by that, and I was glad. I couldn’t risk any other questions. If I hadn’t taken care of this issue, I knew Kathryn wouldn’t stop digging until she uncovered every last bit of information about me. There was too much available online, even though I tried to keep it buried, and it wouldn’t take long for her to connect me to Sam.
“For the record,” she said, her tone light and teasing, “I have never accidentally given out a number. If I give out a number that doesn’t come to this phone, it’s for a reason. So in my defense, I had every reason to believe it was purposeful and not an honest mistake.”
I reached across the table and cupped my hands around hers, which were forever attached to her coffee cup. “Does that mean I’m forgiven?”
Rolling her eyes with a fake sigh, she said, “I suppose so. So, just what exactly keeps a club owner busy all day every day?”
Now, that was a topic I could run with. “Oh, you know…a little of this, a little of that.” She started to pull back, but I laughed and said, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Actually, it’s hard to decide where to start. I have to work with vendors for the liquor and glassware and all the little garnishes. I have a guy just for our lemons, limes, and oranges. Every beer company has their own delivery. And then there’s promotional stuff. I have an advertising agent, but I have to approve everything.”
“Like ads and articles and things?” she asked.
“Right. So, for example, when we have a special guest DJ, I have to work with my talent acquisition guy to first approve that we want the DJ to come in. Then, we have to come up with potential booking dates and a budget to get him in. When he signs the contract and we have the date set, we have to get out all the promotional materials. Radio and television spots, flyers, internet ads, blogs, articles, the works. I have to approve messages and graphics and whatever. And then, based on publicity and estimations as to how much business we’ll get and what sort of profit we stand to make, I have to work with the vendors to get the extra booze, decide if we’re serving any food, and determine what the cover should be for the night. Oh, and I’ve got to man the bars and have enough security and cleanup crew.”
She gaped at me. “So, one special night at the Machine is like a full time job for five weeks for you.”
I shrugged. “Maybe. I’m pretty efficient, though, so maybe more like four.”
She shook her head. “I thought office events were hard to handle. But I have a head count and a budget in advance, and all I have to do is find the right place to accommodate at the right time and get it catered. I’d go mad having to handle all of that every time we had a special event, especially on top of all the other normal tasks. How do you even find time to bartend at the Purple Dragon?”
I had impressed her, and that thrilled me. “That’s why I do it. It’s the mindless job where I can play with new drink recipes and just have quiet conversations with my patrons. There’s no pretentious need to impress people, I don’t have to be the party boy or the suave guy who runs things. And I sure as hell don’t have to make big decisions like how much to charge someone who walks through the door for the privilege of being there.”
“What about employees? Do you do all the hiring yourself?”
“Unfortunately, I do. I do the interviews, set the hours and pay rate. I have to do the firing, when necessary. I don’t do the paperwork or the payroll. I have someone else to do that. And I have a guy who runs background checks and everything. I like to be in control, but I’m not that obsessive about it. And I have a manager to help me out. He watches behaviors and tendencies so if one of my bartenders is dipping into the liquor or the till, I know about it without having to ignore my guests. And I don’t have to be there every night. I can spend time alone with people I really want to see.” I gave her a heated stare with the last words, and she looked like she might slide out of her chair as she melted under it.
She stared at me for a moment, and I couldn’t really read her eyes as they changed. “How many women have you practiced that line on?”
While there was a teasing lilt to her voice, I knew she was honestly having a moment of doubt.
I didn’t want to get so personal about my previous – or current – experience with women. Sam’s parents and her nagging resonated too fresh in my mind, and I might slip and give something away that I didn’t want Kathryn to know. I’d hoped to be more open with her, but there were just some things that had to be left unspoken.
“I don’t practice lines, Kathryn,” I said, deadly serious. And then I winked at her. “But I bet you’ve asked that question a time or two.”
She gave me a long suffering look. “I told you, my history with men is not stellar, and I don’t mean it’s a long and sordid past. I’ve just never had much luck picking decent men. I tend to find crazies, cheaters, liars, deadbeats, and ignorant fools. I’m sorry if it makes me a little paranoid. I just feel like I’m an adult now, and I have to be a little cautious. It’s not high school or college anymore. It’s not time to play around and pretend I have all the time in the world to decide what I want to be when I grow up.”
She laughed. “And I apologize again. I’m getting all serious on you.”
I shrugged and tightened my grip around her hands. “I don’t care what we talk about. I just like the sound of your voice. So, tell me what you did all day yesterday.” Turning the topic to Kathryn was the best way I could think to avoid talking too much about me, and it would give me a chance to learn more about her.
She averted her eyes for a moment, and there was a spark of something I didn’t expect – was that pain? Then, she swallowed visibly and turned back. “Well, I had a date for tennis with one of my coworkers. I kicked her ass, and she pouted, so somehow I ended up emptying my wallet on her lunch, even though I took her to the cheapest decent place I could think of. I’m telling you, it’s people like that who make me steer clear of social situations.”
I laughed. “Are you serious? What an ungrateful, petty thing to do!”
“I know! Anyway, she wanted to go to the spa, and I was definitely not up for another minute with her, especially after she spouted off gossip over lunch that made me feel like I was in an episode of General Hospital or something. So, I went home.”
“Was your roommate off yesterday?” I asked. She just nodded, and I prompted, “So, what? You drank coffee and watched TV or went shopping or holed up in your room to read a book? Come on, how does Kathryn spend her Sunday afternoons?”
She stared down at her coffee, which she hadn’t been drinking. I realized I’d been keeping her from it by holding her hands, and I gently released my hold so she could gulp at it before it grew cold.
Finally, she said in a small, quiet voice, “Apparently, I end relationships with nice guys.”
I blinked several times. I wasn’t sure I understood her, and when she looked up at me from under her lashes, I knew.
She said, “Christian just happened to show up at my apartment out of nowhere, and he’s never done that before. I couldn’t drag him along anymore. I’m not in love with him, and I never will be. I was vaguely in love with the idea of a secure, quiet future. But he deserves someone who wants what he wants in life.”
I wanted to celebrate that she’d dropped the wet mop, but that would have been a bit much. Besides, I couldn’t tell if she’d done it because of me or because she’d finally realized he was a ridiculous match for her. I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing, and finally, she recovered.
“Anyway,” she said, “I moped for a bit at having this ideal I’d created shattered and at having hurt him. But mostly, I was mad about how much time I’d wasted telling myself it was going to work. So Crystal and I ate junk and watched television, just like you guessed.”
“You had a busy day.” It was all I could manage.
“I guess you could say that. Of course, I’m sure that while I was curled up in my pajamas like some old lady, you were out working the crowd and partying it up. I’d bet you charmed a few people into buying another round and got a few girls out to the dance floor so a few guys would buy them more shots. Or maybe, you were home alone.” She was searching, and I couldn’t tell her the truth. I didn’t think ‘having dinner with the in-laws’ would win me any points.
I shrugged. “A little of both. But mostly thinking about seeing you again.”
She’d finished her coffee, and I had to get into the club tonight. I hadn’t spent enough time there lately, and I knew there would be a stack of paperwork to go through.
“Speaking of which, thank you for meeting me here,” I said. “I feel like I can breathe again, now that I’ve seen you.”
I stood and took her trash, throwing it away and taking her hand to lead her out of the shop. We stood there for a moment, our eyes locked, and then I made a quick move, cupping the back of her head with my hand and tilting it as I captured her lips. I couldn’t walk away from her without tasting her again, and I absolutely had to walk away, at least for now.
When I broke away, she shivered and bit her lip with a sigh. “So, will I hear from you again this week? Or is it going to be a while? Just tell me so I know what to expect.”
I caressed her cheek with my knuckles. “I can’t wait that long to talk to you. I’ll call you soon. I hate to end it here. I just have to…”
“Get back to the club, I know.” She looked disappointed but didn’t press the issue. “Well, maybe next time, we don’t have to end it here. Maybe we can end it at your place. No roommates. No obligations. No obstacles.” She gave me a seductive look, and I faltered.
I couldn’t come up with an appropriate response. I wanted her right then and there, but that wasn’t an option. And neither was my place, for obvious reasons. Flustered more than I could remember being since junior high, I just kissed her cheek and told her, “I’ve got to get going. I’m sorry. Take care, Kathryn, and I’ll talk to you in the next day or so.”
As I walked away, I kicked myself mentally. I didn’t know what had come over me, but that was the worst time to have an awkward moment. I had to pull myself together. I couldn’t be this stupid, not at home and not with Kathryn, especially if I had any hope of holding onto what we’d built together.