Back to Square One (Brandon Bay Babes) (14 page)

“You know Kate still lives in town” he said, his fingers still tracing her face.
 
When she didn’t respond he added with a smile, “She’s married with three kids and another on the way.
 
I don’t think she could do the splits now if her life depended on it”

“And I was so envious of her back then” she said absently.
 
“I suppose a lot changes in ten years.
 
It’s certainly been interesting coming back after six”

His eyes held hers.
 
“I’m real glad you came back Kit.
 
I’s like to
make you
real glad you came back”

“You do?”

“If you’ll let me” he said seriously.

The waitress arrived at that moment and Kit couldn’t help but thank the Lord above for the interruption.
 
Their conversation had turned from friendly to intimate in a short space of time; and Kit’s head was spinning with the speed of it.
 
Jeremy Atwell was most definitely an interesting and complex guy; very different from what she thought he would be.

Could there possibly be anything between them?
 
Kit wouldn’t bet the house on it.
 
She had a sneaking suspicion that Jeremy had traded scoring on the football field for a whole different sort of scoring.
 
He now sort attention by honing his other skill; that of making every woman within his sight melt into puddles of estrogen at his feet.
 
She didn’t think he was exactly a man-whore, but from the looks of it; he certainly enjoyed the adulation of the female population.

Kit drank her coffee in silence; she’d let his last comment pass without acknowledgement and just wanted to rewind the last half hour and say ‘no’ to coffee with him.
 
In retrospect it confirmed her feelings from Gillman’s; Jeremy was firmly a shadow from her past that had vanished when she finally, and ten years too late, had seen the light of day.
 

Looking up, she caught him staring at her and her pulse did a little dance.
 
Damn!
 
What rotten timing –why couldn’t he have looked at her like that years ago!

 
As August drew to a close, Kit knew that she had to return to the city to pack up the rest of her apartment.
 
She’d advised the landlord that she wouldn’t be returning as of the first of the month, so the task was something she couldn’t put off much longer.
 
Kit asked Jasmine to come with her, and she’d readily agreed.
 
Gladys was more than happy to watch the shop for her in her absence.

The very day that Jasmine had passed along the money from the sale of her painting, Kit had called the man who had left his card, Charles Rydekker; owner of the Rydekker Gallery.
 
She thanked him profusely and he encouraged her to keep at it and that he’d love to see anything more she did; and to keep in touch.
 

When she called to inform him she had two new paintings, he’d been delighted when she mentioned returning to the city for the weekend.
 
He had a show at his Gallery and he wanted her to come and finally put a face to the enigma that was “TPG”.
 

By early Saturday afternoon, she and Jasmine had put a real dent in packing up her remaining belongings from the apartment.
 
They were having a great time going through Kit’s clothes and deciding what she should keep, throw away or donate to charity.
 

“Is this
yours
?” Jasmine asked, holding up a lacy red corset with one finger.

“No, I guess it was Bambi’s” Kit replied, eyeing the offending object with raised eyebrows.
 
“Do you really think I’d wear something that looks like I work in a bordello; in the 1880’s?”

“Oh I don’t know Miss Kitty, you’d look right pretty in it, I’m thinkin’.” Jasmine laughed.

“Used underwear, really not my thing, Jas” she dryly remarked.

“
Eww
” Jasmine squealed dropping it like a hot potato.
 
“I didn’t think about all the places that thing’s been.”

“Or poles it’s been wrapped around, aluminum and er, not?”

Jasmine screwed up her face. “Double
eww
”

Kit laughed and changed the subject.
 
“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me tonight, I’m sure Charles won’t mind.” she asked hopefully.

“No.
 
This is your night.
 
You need to own it and enjoy it.
 
You don’t need a pink-haired scene-stealer like me hogging any of the attention.
 
Besides, you’re wearing pink; you know that’s my colour.”

“I’m
just
a guest Jas.
 
It’s not like
my
art is being exhibited or anything.”

“I know.
 
But it’s a good chance to network and meet some important players in the art community.” Jasmine replied firmly.

Kit slunk onto the sofa.
 
“I don’t know if I’m ready for that.
 
All those people have experience and I don’t know anything about art.
 
I feel like such a fake.”

“What’s there to know about art, except you either love a piece; or hate it.
  
And I for one love what you’ve painted so far”

“But…”

Jasmine put her hands over her ears, “I don’t want to hear another word about not being good enough; or being less of an artist than others.
 
Charles Rydekker thought you were good enough to pay actual money for what you did.
 
If that isn’t proof enough that you’re good, I don’t know what is.”

“Okay.” Kit said softly.

“What?
 
I didn’t hear you.”

Kit stood up and forcibly removed Jasmines hands from her ears.
 
“I said okay.”

“Good.
 
Now let’s finish all this” Jas said, pointing at the mess around them, “then we can get you ready to dazzle them tonight.”

*****

All three floors of the Rydekker Gallery were full to the brim with people when Kit finally made her appearance at eight o’clock.
 
Despite Jasmine’s efforts to get her on her way, she’d dawdled around the apartment, delaying her departure, until even her usually unflappable friend had finally had enough and pushed her out the door.

According to Jasmine she was a “vision in pink” this evening.
 
The dress she was wearing had a boat neck front, but dipped dangerously low to a “V” in the back.
 
Its full skirt billowed around her and she wore low heeled pumps dyed to match.
 
All very Audrey, as Jasmine would say.

Grabbing a glass of champagne from one of the waiters bustling through the crowd, Kit attempted to look nonchalant and composed as she milled around the room, trying to ignore the humungous Boeing 747’s winging their way around in her stomach.

Her stomach growled loudly.
 
Apparently the 747’s were taking off.
 
Not eating this afternoon had been a huge mistake.
 
She needed food and she needed it now, before her stomach decided to make its presence known to all and sundry.
 

So after pretending for a few more minutes that a painting of a cow wearing ballerina shoes was the most fascinating thing she’d seen in her life, Kit made her way to a large buffet table and hoped that they were serving something that could soothe the savage beast within.

There wasn’t much left.
 
She’d arrived so late, that the caterers were even starting to clean up.
 
Nibbling on some poppy seed crackers and cheese, she discovered with horror that the cheese was of the stinky and permeating kind; and that stomach rumbles were now the least of her social problems.

Kit swilled the rest of her champagne around her mouth, hoping that it would have an adverse effect on the stench emanating from her mouth.
  
It was no good.
 
Discreetly putting her hand up to her mouth, she did the breath test and failed miserably.
 

Maybe something else on the buffet would help eliminate it.
 
Remembering her mother saying something about parsley getting rid of garlic breath, she picked up the garnish from some sort of pate’ and chewed it as quickly and inconspicuously as possible.

It seemed to do the trick.
 
Whew, Kit thought; that could have been disastrous.
 
Gulping down another glass of champagne for good measure, she looked around the crowd.
 
No-one seemed to have noticed her distress.
 
She was in the clear; nothing but smooth sailing from here on out.

Looking across the room, she could see Charles Rydekker talking to a group of people.
 
Perhaps she should join him.
 
He’d introduced himself when she’d arrived, but she hadn’t dared to venture his way again since.
 
Maybe she should trot over there, announce herself to the others and start mingling.
 
While debating this in her head, one of the men Charles was chatting with looked her way.
 
Kit’s heart stopped for a moment.
 
It was Jeffrey Jones!

As realisation kicked in, J.J. slowly grinned at her and raised his hand in a mock salute.
 
Not knowing what to do, Kit mimicked his action, then turned back to the buffet and stuffed some more parsley into her mouth.

She was still chewing madly, when he made his presence known.
 
“Hey Kit Kat”

“Hi J.J.” Kit replied turning to him and smiling; a huge piece of parsley lodged on her front teeth.

J.J. chuckled.
 
“It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise”

“Um” he started.

“Yes?”

He swirled his finger around in front of his mouth.
 
“You have something green on your teeth.”

Typical, Kit thought. “Well of course I do” she replied with a laugh.
 
Removing her compact from her purse, she removed the offending parsley.
 
Kit then grinned at him.
 
“Better?” she asked, giving him a wide grin.

“All good now”

“Thanks J.J.”

The initial shock of seeing him had worn off somewhat and Kit knew that if it had been anyone else but Jeffrey Jones seeing her with parsley in her teeth, she would have been mortified.
 
But she’d told him things in that elevator that she’d really only shared with one other person: that being Jasmine.
 

Yes, she’d been angry with him for what he’d said when the elevator finally opened; but in retrospect, she’d taken his comments the wrong way.
 
He’d been grateful she’d been in that elevator with him; she’d distracted him from his phobia.
 
She certainly couldn’t blame him for not having romance on his mind when dealing with said phobia.
 
Deep down, Kit felt she could trust him, and that possibly they could be friends.