Authors: Ruthie Robinson
“Killed in a car accident. Katrina was in college at the time. Took it hard, they were all that had been good in her life. And although it took her a while to pull it together, she did. Grew into a very strong, kind woman, one any man would be happy to have,” he said, stopping and waiting until he had Will’s attention.
“She can be prickly, skittish, and hard to get to know, but she’s a softy at heart. She looks after Charles and me like we were the kids and not the other way around,” he said.
Will listened.
Marriage? Slow down, dude
, he thought, still taking in the information and aligning it with what he’d seen of Katrina. He and Colburn walked back to the main building. They entered, his eyes searching for Katrina, who stood near the register talking to a customer. She finished and walked over to him.
“You and Colburn done?” she asked, a smile on her lips. She had really great lips. She’d stopped talking, her face turning cautious as she watched desire move into his eyes.
“We are,” he said.
“Well then, guess we’d better leave. Let me get my stuff and then we can go,” she said, leaving quickly, feeling that fear again and going into evasion mode. He’d identified it now, the same expression he’d seen in her eyes in her backyard. He got it now. He frightened her in some way. He smiled a little at the idea. He walked over to where Charles and Colburn stood.
“Thank you for your help this morning,” he said, extending his hand first to Colburn and then to Charles.
“Come by anytime,” they said, shaking his hand. Katrina turned and watched them. She could tell the godfathers liked Will. She knew Colburn enough to know he didn’t give anyone the time of day if there was something about the person he didn’t like. Uncle C was always friendly, even if he wanted you to drop dead. She walked over to join them, placing a kiss on their cheeks before leaving. She and Will walked back to her car, quiet on the short trip home. She pulled up to his house.
“So I’ll take the changes we’ve made and update the budget and schedule. I’ll have them ready to drop off by the deadline. Are you going to be around to do the honors?” she asked.
“Yes, I’ll deliver them this time,” he said, watching her for a second. “Thanks, Katrina, for all your help so far,” he said, serious now.
“Sure, don’t mention it. I’ll see you later,” she said, her professional front up again.
He slid out of her car, watching until she pulled into her garage before turning and entering his home. After today, she’d become so much clearer to him. Fear, he’d bet, played a large part in her decisions, her behavior, maybe even explaining why she dressed the way she did. And wasn’t that interesting?
***
Tonight would be her third date with Darius. He was a nice guy, handsome, and gainfully employed. All sound potential husband attributes; nevertheless, she wasn’t interested in anything beyond friendship. She was still hung up on Will, and getting to know him, being close to him through the competition, only heightened her awareness of him.
She’d invited Darius over to dinner for a heart-to-heart; no use in wasting his time and hers. She sat on the couch waiting for him to arrive, wishing it could be some other fellow. Her choice, right? She’d been the one that stopped this time.
Her doorbell rang and she went to answer it.
“Hi, Darius.”
He had a pie dish in his hand. “Dessert,” he said, handing it over to her. It was still warm.
“Hey, glad you could make it. Any trouble finding the place?” she asked.
“None,” he said, entering her home.
“What’s this?” she asked, tilting her head toward the dish she now held in her hands.
“Blueberry cobbler, made by yours truly.”
“I’m in for a treat then,” she said, walking over to place it on her bar. “Maybe we should eat this instead of the dinner I cooked,” she said and he laughed. Katrina had prepared dinner earlier, the only one of her mother’s recipes she’d mastered after countless hours spent in the kitchen trying to learn.
“Red or white wine?” she asked, picking up a bottle of each.
“What are you serving?” he asked.
“Turkey and dressing,” she said, watching his eyes lift in surprise.
“Bringing out the big guns?” he said, laughing at her dinner choice. “In that case I guess I’ll have white.” She handed the bottle and a bottle opener to him, and he opened the wine and passed it back to her.
“Follow me,” she said, leading him to the table, which was set with her formal china. It had belonged to her mother.
“So, Thanksgiving in June,” he said, his eyebrows lifting as he took a seat, teasing her as he took in the turkey, dressing, and sides.
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it, and giving thanks shouldn’t be limited to once a year,” she said, watching the amused expression settle on his face. “My mother loved holidays, loved cooking, which I hate. But she’d drag me in there in spite of my loud protestations. I helped during the holidays, learning how to cook the dishes that she so loved. The rest of the year, I ruthlessly avoided all things culinary,” she said, smiling at Darius. “Trust me. This is as good as it gets in the cooking department with me. My culinary skills are way limited. It was either this or pancakes and eggs.”
She served dinner and they both laughed when Darius went back for seconds. They talked over dinner about the competition and life at his restaurants. After dinner he helped with the dishes, increasing his estimation in Katrina’s eyes. They moved to the living room, finding a seat on Katrina’s couch. She’d placed dessert and coffee on a tray on the ottoman before them and they sat back, talking, laughing, and enjoying the evening.
“I need to tell you something,” Darius said, growing serious. They were now done with dessert and sat drinking coffee. Katrina had kicked off her shoes, pulled her feet onto her couch, and sat Indian-style facing him.
“Okay,” she said, grabbing her coffee cup and leaning back into her couch, curious.
“A year ago, I broke off an engagement to be married,” he told her.
“Oh,” she said.
“I wasn’t always the entrepreneur you see before you now. I was trained to be a lawyer, had worked for a very expensive law firm for about three years. I was on the fast track,” he said, smiling, sliding out of his shoes and putting his feet on her table.
“Watch the feet,” she said, laughing when he stopped midway. “Just kidding. Really, make yourself comfortable.”
“You weren’t always in the feeding people business?” she asked, smiling wickedly, reminding him of his place in the conversation.
“Right. I met my fiancée while I worked with the law firm at some fancy meet and greet. Match made in heaven, or at least I thought so. I had the fancy apartment and fancy car, all the trappings of that life, which she liked; so did I, for that matter.
“You’ve met my baby brother, but I had one older brother, who volunteered to serve his country in Iraq. He died. We are, were, close,” he said, sitting quietly for a while. “His death sent me into a tailspin. He was the one who pushed me, looked out for me. I was devastated and angry for a while. What is it about losing someone you love that brings clarity to one’s life,” he said, feeling Katrina’s hand slide over to cover his. Loss was something she knew very well.
“It led to me getting fired from my job. I probably could have gone back, but by then I didn’t want to. I realized that the law was just okay, but it hadn’t been my first career choice, just a less risky one that was approved of by my parents. Owning a restaurant had been a distant dream of mine. So I didn’t go back, and of course, I had to scale back my lifestyle. Going on your own isn’t for the faint of heart,” he said, taking her hand in his and squeezing it. “So there went the fancy home, the fancy car, and, unfortunately, the fancy fiancée.” He smiled, but she could see the hurt that lurked in his eyes. Hurt was something she knew very well, too.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be. We gave it our best shot. She tried sticking through my career change, I’ll give her that,” he said. “I’m telling you this to say that I loved her very much, and I’ve not quite put it behind me. As crazy as it sounds, if she were to walk through that door again, I can’t say with any certainty that I wouldn’t take her back.”
Katrina sat quietly, watching him.
“And here I was all set to dump you,” she said, smiling. He laughed.
“I met you at the party and I liked you, thought you were funny in your attempts to get rid of me and the other guy. I thought you could be the one to help me put her behind me. I haven’t. I like you and I don’t want to lead you to believe that I’m available. I’m not,” he said.
“Thanks for telling me,” she said. “Seriously, I understand, believe me.” She ended up telling him about her crush on her neighbor. He listened attentively, not commenting until she was done.
“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you aren’t the easiest woman to get to know. You are aware of that, right?”
“Yeah, I know. I get that a lot. I can be difficult,” she said with a small smile.
“It’s more than being difficult. It’s as if you want the world to see your worst, and I’ve got to say, that’s not the ideal method for attracting a mate,” he said, looking intently at her, serious now. She shook her head, looking off into space.
“I know,” she said turning back to him. “It’s my way, though, and as crazy as that sounds, I need to operate that way. It’s my way of making sure that the person wants me for me. I mean if someone wants to stick around after seeing the worst, then he really loves me, right? They’re in for the long haul.”
“I guess that’s one way to look at it,” he said, her hand still resting in his.
“Before I was adopted, I lived in a large group home for orphans. That’s my word for what I was. Anyway, they’d have these sessions the agency would sponsor for prospective parents. They would stop by, kind of like an open house, to see the kids that were available for adoption. I hadn’t become as beautiful as I am now,” she said with a smile, “but I learned early that people only wanted the beautiful ones, the easy ones. So a lot of me wants to test you, and those around me, to make sure it is really me you want, the part that’s not so pretty.
“I need for people to want the woman in the big clothes, the yard worker, more than I need them to love the pretty one. Do you understand?” she asked, looking at him. “I probably go overboard in that, maybe I’m a little too proactive in testing that.”
“I see.”
“So I’ve followed my usual approach with Will, hiding, thinking I liked him, wanting him to notice me. I know, so third grade, but it’s me. Funny, he did notice me,” she said, and explained New Year’s Eve night and the events that followed to Darius. “Know what’s funny?” she asked, not waiting for an answer. “Now that I know he’s interested, I’m not so sure anymore. We were becoming friends, and I don’t want to ruin that.”
“Maybe you’re afraid?” he said.
“Maybe.”
“What would you be afraid of?” he asked.
“That we could ruin a friendship, that living around him would be uncomfortable if it doesn’t work out, that I could love him a whole bunch and he wouldn’t love me back. Every orphan’s worst nightmare,” she said softly, looking down at their clasped hands.
“Maybe you should give him a try. He may surprise you,” he said, squeezing her hand again.
“Why risk it?” she said.
“What’s life without a risk or two?” he said, smiling. “Think about it, anyway.”
“We’ll see. Enough about me,” she said, trying to pull her hand from his. He wouldn’t let it go, looking into her eyes.
“I would really like for us to continue to be friends, Katrina.”
“I’d like that, too,” she said, and smiled, she squeezing his hand this time.
July
Will stood outside Katrina’s door hoping that when she opened it he could convince her to take a ride with him. This was his most recent attempt to breach the formidable façade of Katrina Jones. Today was July 1, and the finalists’ designs were due to the committee. He needed to drop off his design, along with Katrina’s budget and planting schedule, and he hoped she would accept his invitation. He was running out of ideas.
She was still being professional and distant, now more so than ever since their “date” and trip to her godfathers’. He’d taken pains to run into her several times since then; he was always on the lookout for her, catching up to her in her yard, at the mailboxes, leaving for work. She always seemed distant, and clearly had retreated back into her shell. So it was back to square one, hoping she’d accept his invitation, banking on surprise working in his favor. Plus, this was something related to the competition, and, after all, she’d agreed to help.
Nine o’clock on a Saturday morning. Who could it be, Katrina thought, walking over to her front door in response to the ringing doorbell. Not Lola, she didn’t usually knock, and the back door was her preference, anyway.
Katrina opened it cautiously to find Will standing before her. He was fine, as always, shades covering his eyes, black, shiny hair standing on end, beautiful smile on scrumptious lips, those shorts loose on hips that she knew by heart; she would put good money on her ability to pick them out of a line-up.