Getting It Right This Time (3 page)

“Is that so? And what do you think the press will make of your lack of interest in my debut performance?”

“Nothing. They won’t have noticed whether or not I was there, it’s you they’ll be watching.

Not me.”

“They’ll speculate, Mark,” she cried. “They’ll say you’re preparing to drop me!”

Her bosom heaved up and down above the neckline of her dress as an angry flash of red rose from her neck to her cheeks. He’d seen this side of Marcia half a dozen times in the two years they’d worked together, and those times were enough for Mark to know he didn’t like them. When she was like that, he felt as though he should prepare himself for a strike--brace himself against the unpredictable tongue of a viper.

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Getting It Right This Time

Mark took her gently by the elbows, knowing if he wanted any chance of catching Kate before the next act, he must swallow his irritation. He looked directly into Marcia’s troubled eyes.

“I am here for you every step of the way. I want you to succeed in your dreams as much as you do. I will always be here for you. Okay?”

A long moment passed until at last, her features softened and a smile broke through like a disconcerting, yet undeniably beautiful, ray of sunshine. “You’re right,” she said. “Of course you’re right.”

He smiled. “We’re in this together. To the end.”

Her smile stretched to a grin. “Let’s forget Kate Marshall and have a glass of champagne.”

She slipped from his grasp and pulled the chilled bottle from the ice bucket on her dressing table. Mark edged toward the door--and Kate.

“I can’t. Not right now.”

Her smile dissolved. “You’re going after her, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Yes. But I won’t be long.”

“For crying out loud…”

Ignoring her, Mark left the room and ran through an endless sea of people as they spilled toward him on their way back from the bar to the auditorium. His frantic gaze darted over their heads, looking for one redhead in particular. He cursed inwardly when he caught no sight of her.

He could only hope she and Lucy were lingering over their drinks in the bar. He sprinted back along the corridor and burst through the swinging double doors.

He almost laughed when he saw Kate sitting on a bar stool, casually talking to the barman.

And then his smile abruptly dissolved. Did the guy seriously think he had a chance with her? Jeez, he looked as though all his Christmases had come at once.

With no idea what to say to her, much less how to approach her, Mark marched across the room and surprised himself by gripping the back of her swivel stool and spinning her around. She gasped and pressed her hands against his chest to steady herself.

“Hello again,” he said, arching a cocky eyebrow even though his heart beat out of control.

She snatched her hands from his chest and curled them around the edge of her stool. “Don’t you know any form of subtlety, Mark Johnston?” she snapped. “Or is every single thing you do carried out in the same rough, domineering manner?”

Something painful hitched in his chest. He leaned in close enough the soft, musky scent of her perfume wafted below his nostrils. “No, not everything I do,” he murmured. “Well, not unless I’m specifically asked for it that way.”

She crossed her arms. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

He stared at her for a moment longer before pulling back. The last thing he wanted was to frighten her off. Although it did occur to him “Kate” and “frightened” didn’t go together in the same sentence. He held up his hands in surrender.

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“Look, work with me here, okay? I’m still getting my head around the fact you’re back…

without James, and it’s hard, Kate. It’s hard just seeing you, let alone find out James is dead.”

She closed her eyes, and Mark hesitated, wondering if it was right to push her this way. But he had to know what happened--had to know how his best friend ended up dead. He took her hand and she opened her eyes.

Mark could not ignore the pain and doubt in her gaze. He rubbed his thumb over the silky soft skin of her wrist. “What happened, Kate?”

“He was killed in a snowboarding accident.”

He flinched. “But James was the best. How could he…”

“There was a more inexperienced boarder with him and he went off course. James went after him…and things went wrong. He was thrown up in the air and…” She stopped. “His neck was broken, Mark. He’s dead. What else do you need to know?”

Their eyes locked and Mark’s heart shifted--her gaze told him seeing and talking to him was more of a struggle than she wanted to deal with right then. He dropped her hand and pushed his own through his hair.

“Are you back for good?”

Another moment…and then she nodded.

“Forever?” Mark pressed.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

A flash of color darkened her cheeks. “Who knows what forever is, Mark? James certainly didn’t.”

She jumped down from the stool and stormed toward the door. He stared after her, not noticing Lucy now stood beside him, her hand on his arm.

“She’s not going anywhere, Mark,” she said, quietly.

He turned, his face hot.

Lucy smiled sympathetically. “It’s taken her a long time to get to a place where she will even accept help from her family.” She glanced toward the door. “When James died, she withdrew from the outside world, and it has taken a year for her to take a risk and edge back out again.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know.” Mark looked to the ceiling before glancing at her again. “She must hate me.”

Lucy gave a small smile. “She doesn’t hate you.”

“I’ve got to persuade her to at least talk to me, Luce. Kate is…she’s…” The words died on his lips.

Lucy picked up her bag and hitched it onto her shoulder. “Look, have you ever known Kate to stay angry with anyone? Take my advice, leave her alone for a while.”

He clenched his jaw. “I don’t think I can.”

She looked at him. “I know how you felt about her, but please, give her time.”

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Getting It Right This Time

And then Lucy walked out after Kate, leaving Mark standing alone and knowing there was absolutely no chance of him adhering to her advice.

Chapter 2

Kate stared at the bedroom ceiling in her new house and pulled her daughter closer. Jessica’s soft murmur of breath as she slept peacefully against Kate’s bosom caused yet another tear to follow the thousands Kate had cried since the previous night. Why had she come back to Foxton expecting to lead the same life she’d led before? And more importantly, why did she trust her mother when she said everything would be fine? Fine? Absolutely nothing was fine!

Slowly, through every means possible, Kate had pulled herself up from a shocked and numb widow and mother to a confused and scared little girl to a woman with her own business, her own home and mother to a shy, yet rapidly buoyant and confident daughter. But now?

Now she felt like a fraud. A fraud who’d not stopped lying to herself or her baby for the last two months…

She still had feelings for Mark bloody Johnston.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Kate tried and failed to push images of his ludicrously handsome face from her mind. But it wasn’t the good looks or the undeniable presence of him preventing her from sleeping--it was the way he’d looked at her. From the first moment he stormed across the breadth of the bar and stopped in front of her, those heavy-lidded, lingering hazel eyes drank in her entire body from the root of her hair to the tips of her toes.

And she’d been catapulted back to a time she’d forgotten existed. A time when she’d hung on his every word, laughed with him until she thought her sides would split and fantasized over and over again about how it would feel if he kissed her.

“Mummy?”

Kate started at the sound of Jessica’s voice. Heat burned her face as she swallowed back the guilt threatening to choke her. “Hey, sleepy-head. Do you know what time it is?”

Jessica wriggled away from Kate’s side and executed her morning wake-up routine of spreading her limbs out as far as she could until she resembled a miniature, female version of the
Vitruvian Man
. Kate smiled. What did Mark Johnston matter when everything she needed was right there in her beautiful three-year-old girl? Swiping both hands across her cheeks, Kate brushed away the remnants of her self-indulgence and flung herself whole-heartedly into the task of tickling her daughter fully awake.

Jessica’s delighted screams filled the room. “Mummy! Mummy! Stop it! Stop it!”

“Grrraaahhh.” Kate roared and snorted after Jessica as she scrambled off the bed and headed, giggling wildly, to the bedroom door.

Kate whipped Jessica off her feet at the top of the stairs. She swung the girl onto her hip after planting the biggest, sloppiest kiss she could onto her cheek, and carried Jessica laughing down the stairs.

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Getting It Right This Time

And halted at the bottom step.

Kate’s breath caught painfully in her throat as she stared wide-eyed at the scarlet envelope sitting on the doormat. Within seconds, Jessica spotted it too.

“Put me down, Mummy. Look, a card. Is it my birthday yet?” she asked, wriggling and struggling against Kate’s side.

In slow motion, Kate lowered Jessica to the ground and watched in stunned silence as her little girl raced to pick it up.

“It’s for you,” Jessica said. “See? K-A-T-E.”

Swallowing hard, Kate forced a smile and finally stepped off the stairs. She held out her hand and Jessica gave her the envelope.

“Open it, open it!”

“Why don’t we have our breakfast first?” Kate gestured toward the kitchen, willing her daughter to take the hint. But Jessica didn’t move.

Clear green eyes so similar to her own, stared straight back at Kate, filled with confusion.

“No, Mummy. Open it now. It’s pretty.”

Intelligent beyond her years and unreasonably stubborn--also like her mother--Jessica continued to stare at her expectantly. Kate threw her hands up surrender, knowing she was being ridiculous, but also knowing, without doubt, the card was from Mark. “Fine, fine. I’ll open it now.”

She tore open the envelope with trembling fingers and scanned the familiar handwriting, her breath trapped in her lungs. Jessica tugged incessantly on the hem of Kate’s pajama top.

“What does it say? What does it say?”

Kate snapped the card shut and brushed past Jessica to open the front door. The bright morning sunshine centered on her doorstep illuminated the single white rose in a golden spotlight.

Kate’s eyes stung with unshed tears as she bent to pick it up, the memories crashing in on her in a vibrant and almost blinding color.

“Oh, Mark.” She breathed his name on her exhalation.

She’d been sixteen, Mark nineteen, and they’d spent the summer weeding the garden of The Landscape, the most beautiful house in Foxton, to earn extra money to add to their sparse student income. The Landscape was a huge sprawling estate where two young friends could disappear for hours. And one perfect afternoon, Mark snipped a flawless white rose from the owner’s immaculate bushes and passed it to her saying the same words he’d written on the scarlet card today…

For you--forever.

“Mummy? What’s wrong?”

Slowly shutting the door, Kate brought the rose to her nose and looked at Jessica over its petals. She inhaled deeply, nerves and fear and maybe even a little wistful excitement swirling in her abdomen.

“Nothing’s wrong, darling. Nothing at all.”

“Your cheeks are all pink.”

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Kate laughed. “Are they?”

But Jessica didn’t laugh, she merely shook her head and walked toward the kitchen mumbling, “Flowers don’t make me go pink.”

Kate watched her go and swallowed hard, knowing full well Mark had silently managed to tip her deeper toward a very dangerous place.

* * * *

Wearily, she walked downstairs and into the kitchen of her newly opened beauty salon to find her only employee already pouring coffee into two mugs.

“Great minds think alike.” Kate smiled, sinking onto a comfy settee.

Jo turned and smiled. “What a morning! One thing’s for sure, you certainly know how to promote the business. We’ve been non-stop and the salon’s barely been open three weeks. If the demand carries on like this, you’re going to need bigger premises in six months.”

Kate sighed and dropped her head back. “I know it’s great but my God, I’m exhausted.”

“Here.” Jo passed her a steaming mug. “Drink and re-fuel.”

Kate took the coffee. “The good thing is, we live in theatre land and as long as those actresses keep coming in and spending their money, I am a happy, happy lady.”

Jo sat down beside her. “Exactly. And the free champagne and nibbles you so thoughtfully leave in the reception area don’t hurt either, do they?”

Kate smiled. “Nope.”

The two sat in companionable silence, and Kate’s mind automatically returned to the night before and her morning present. Mark had yet to leave her thoughts for more than thirty minutes at a time. After she’d dropped Jessica off at Lucy’s nursery for the day, she thought of nothing else but him until she arrived at work. It wasn’t fair--and it was totally like Mark Johnston. The man had never been fair as far as her feelings were concerned.

Blinking, she shook her head and then noticed Jo looking at her from the corner of her eye.

Kate forced a smile. “Are you okay?”

A flush of pink colored the younger girl’s cheeks. “I’m not sure I should say anything.”

Kate sat up. “Don’t be silly. If there’s anything worrying you, tell me. I want you to be happy working here.”

“Oh, it’s not me. I couldn’t be happier.”

Kate frowned. “Then what is it?” she asked, watching Jo glance into the chocolate brown depths of her mug for a second before raising her eyes to meet Kate’s once more.