Heading East (Part 2 of 2) (The True North Series) (17 page)

After a few seconds, s
he finally walked over and nudged my hand with her nose. I wrapped my arms around her neck and hid my face in her fur, leaning into her warmth.

“I’m still Kat,” I said
. “I haven’t changed that much, have I?”
 

20

KAT

The clock on the dresser said it was only fifteen past
midnight, but it felt as if I’d been lying awake in bed for hours. At only three days until my fashion show and two until West came home I was a bundle of tightly wound energy. My collection of four outfits was all but done and, except for the final refining process, I was ahead of schedule by a few days. I’d even managed to walk Josie three times a day down to the park a few blocks down, but nothing helped calm my nerves.

The Fashion Institute of New York was different than other schools in that they invited many professionals already in the fashion business to attend the student’s capstone show, sometimes garnering up to as many as thirty new audience members. The idea of showing my work in front of so many was daunting, yet a part of me was excited, proud even. But the combination of fear and excitement made me stay awake in bed far longer than I should, my brain refusing to shut up.

I stayed in bed for another few minutes before finally getting up and heading to the bathroom to start a bath. I threw epsom salts in the tub and twisted my hair up into a bun, but before I could dip a toe in the water I decided to grab my phone from the nightstand first.

“Stay, girl,” I told Josie when she looked up at me from the foot of the bed. “Trust me, you don’t want to be around for this call.”

I went back to the bathroom, closed the door behind me, and dialed West’s number when I was submerged in the hot water.

“Hey,” he said, sounding a little out of breath. “Why are you calling so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” I said. “I miss you.”

“That’s sweet. I miss you too.”

“Well don’t sound too enthused.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little busy,” he said. “But I do miss you. More than I can express right now.”

“You can’t even step away to tell me about it?” I asked, sliding my palm down my thigh. “I’m…”

“What, Kat?”

“I’m naked in the bathtub, missing you,” I said, lifting my leg out of the water and sliding my hands from my toes down to my thighs.

It felt strange to even think about engaging in phone sex with West, but I wanted him so bad I was willing to push past my comfort zone just this once.

“Kat…”

Despite the crazy thrumming of my heart, I kept going. I’d already
started, I might as well keep going. “I’m slipping two fingers inside me, imagining it’s you.”

His silence told me that I, hopefully, had his attention.

“I’m tweaking my nipples between my fingers, like I’m looking for the right radio station.”

He let out a surprised chuckle.

I sat up. “What?”

“God, I miss you.”

“Then come home and fuck me already before I make more awful analogies,” I said, feeling flushed from the hot water and maybe slight embarrassment.

“About that…”

I sat up. “No, don’t tell me the tour’s been extended?”

“I might be held back by a day or two. Saturday night by the latest.”

“My show is this Friday,” I said.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, then he paused and I could hear muffled talking in the background. “Hey Kat, I really have to go. We’re done refueling and have to get back on the road,” he said a few seconds later.

“So talk on the bus.”

“I wish I could, but there’s absolutely no privacy there. And I need to get some sleep. We had a long day today.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“Kat, don’t be mad.”

How could I
not
be mad? Was he for real?

I pinched the bridge of my nose, held my breath, and counted to five. “You owe me one hell of an orgasm when you get home.”

“I’ll give you as many as you can handle,” he said with a chuckle. “Goodnight, Kat. I love you.”

“I love you too. Come home.”

The next time I heard from Luke was on Thursday morning, when he called and throughout the entire conversation seemed as if he wanted to tell me something.

“Kat,” he kept starting, but never really finishing.

“What? That’s the third time you’ve said my name,” I said, dropping to my knees to inspect the hem of my dress and cutting off any stray threads. I’d gone over the garments twice already, and by this time I was basically just looking for faults that weren’t there. Maybe it was my frayed nerves that really needed trimming.

“I just…” Luke said.

“What is it? Just spit it out.”

“I wish I was already home, watching you freak out about your show tomorrow even though I know you’ll be fantastic.”

“You could have been, but for some mysterious reason you’ve decided to stay away.”

He let out a low whisper of breath, the kind that let me know he was trying hard to keep from saying something.

“What? You’re frustrated because, for once, you’re not here to shut me up with a kiss or distract me with your body?”

“I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, you kind of do.” My shoulders sagged. “I miss it.”

“I’ll be home soon, Kat,” he said. “Then you can yell at me all you want and I’ll calm you down the only way I know how.”

Later that day I was walking to school, my arms full of clothes sheathed in garment bags, when I decided to stop in at Starbucks. I’d be busy for the rest of the day, probably well into the night setting up for the show, and this cup of coffee was surely only the first of many.

I had just paid for my order when someone tapped my shoulder.

“You dropped something,” a pretty brunette woman said, holding up my little white seam ripper.

“Oh, thanks,” I said, slipping it back in my purse. I glanced at her again, noting something familiar in her face.

Then it struck me—she was Amanda Blake, an actress from the show Franny and I used to watch! I shut my mouth, which had fallen open, and tried to keep my cool. I’d been in Manhattan for several months and she was literally the first famous person I’d run across. Or at least recognized.

I kept glancing over at her while we waited for our coffee orders, taking note of how much shorter she seemed in real life, but also so much prettier and younger without all that makeup.

She caught me looking and leaned in. “Yes, I’m her,” she said under her voice.

I let out a surprised laugh. “Busted.”

“I get that a lot,” she said.

“My friend Franny is crazy about your show.”

She smiled. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“I used to watch it with her in Alaska but then I moved here and haven’t been able to watch much TV.”

“From Alaska?” she asked as we got our coffee and moved to the mixing station. She asked me about my home state and I answered, then our conversation flowed towards the bundle I had in my arms.

“I’m having my show tomorrow at one,” I said as we made our way to the sidewalk. “I’m freaking out a little bit.”

“I bet it’ll be fine.”

I don’t know what possessed me to say it, but the words tumbled out of my mouth, “You should come. If you have time, you know. I know you’re busy with filming and everything. So yeah.”

“Maybe,” she said with a smile. “My stylist and I are always looking for something new.”

I told her the location of the show, unable to believe she didn’t flat out refuse. After we parted I dialed
Franny’s phone and got her voicemail. “You won’t believe who I just ran into,” I said and left it at that.

Then, needing to tell someone else, I dialed
West’s number.

“Luke Harrington’s phone,” said a female voice.

My legs froze right there on that sidewalk. “Sabrina?”

“Kat. Hi,” she said in a casual tone, as if answering my boyfriend’s phone was no big deal.

“Is West around?”

“West?” she asked. “Oh, you mean Luke? He’s not here right now.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Okay, where is he then?”

“He’s taking a shower.”

I fought hard to keep my temper from getting the best of me, but it was damn hard when Sabrina’s smug voice made me want to pummel something. Or someone, more like. “Can you please tell him I called?” I asked.

“I’ll tell him but I can’t guarantee he’ll have time to call you back,” she said. “Don’t you even want to know what I’m doing with his phone?”

“Not really,” I said through gritted teeth.

She let out a sigh. “You wouldn’t like the answer anyway.”

I tried to take the higher road—really, I did—but it was hard when she was clearly goading me. “Why are you being such a hateful bitch right now?”

“I’m really not.” She paused, giving the doubt she’d planted room to grow. “But tell me, Kat: when did Luke tell you he’ll be home?”

He’d told me probably Saturday, but somehow I figured she already knew that.

“You might want to ask him where he’s flying off to tonight, then.”

“Tonight?” I blurted out.

“Yes. Right after our last
show, he’s taking a taxi and heading to the airport.” There was silence on both ends for a long time. Finally, she asked, “He’s not coming home to you, is he?”

“He could be,” I said, straightening my spine. “You probably just ruined his surprise.”

“This is how it started, you know. With us. He started keeping secrets and was never where he said he’d be.”

The doubt began to sprout, a nasty little vine that was snaking around my heart. But I was determined not to go back the way I’d come, back to the girl who had covered herself in jagged leaves and thorns. “That was the old Luke. He’s not like that anymore.”

“Sure, Kat,” Sabrina said with a sigh. “I hope you’re right.”

West didn’t call me back.

And even though my first instinct was to be suspicious, I tamped it down and tried my best to keep from worrying. He’d said he wouldn’t betray me, but as hard as it was for me to trust sometimes, I just had to believe he was telling the truth. 

I stayed awake that night, keeping the bedroom door open so that Josie and I could listen for the telltale jingle of keys or the sound of footsteps, but the entire place was eerily silent the rest of the night and well into the morning, a deafening confirmation that somewhere out there West was flying towards something and, for once, the compass wasn’t pointed to me.

21

KAT

I’m not proud to say that my eyes were red and puffy the next morning, nor was I proud of being that girl who stayed up all night worrying about a man’s whereabouts instead of focusing on her very first fashion show. But somehow or another, I’d turned into her.

After I showered and dressed I stood in front of the mirror and told the girl in the glass to get it together.

“This is the most important day of your education,” I told her, my hands gripping the edge of the marble counter. “Don’t fuck it up because your boyfriend is not here. You’re not
that
girl. So lose the insecurity and jealousy crap and rock that fucking show on your own, like you always intended!”

Josie barked behind me, my own furry cheerleader.

“Thanks, girl,” I said, bending down to rub her behind the ears. “I’ll do my best.”

I was seventh in my class of twenty to show my clothes, which gave me time to put the final touches on the clothes as well as the models themselves, who were volunteers from another fashion program.

“So how are we walking?” asked
Miko, the model wearing an asymmetrical hoodie paired with a full skirt made of muted tweed.

“Like this.” I took a few steps as an example. “Not exactly stomping. Just make you presence known.”

“So, like a man?” Cindy asked, who wore the pencil skirt made of triangular patches of tweed paired with a men’s white button-down shirt gathered at the waist with a black belt.

“No, like a strong, powerful individual,” I said. “The point of this collection is that you can be both feminine and masculine at once. That you can be powerful and strong and still be pretty and sexy.”

The models nodded, hopefully with a new appreciation for my designs.

Professor Ramirez came up to me a few minutes later with a clipboard in his hand. “You ready, Kat?”

I looked over at the models that wore my designs, feeling a surge of pride. All of those individual pieces—the choices of fabric, the unusual silhouettes—
shouldn’t
have worked. Hell, even Professor Ramirez questioned me every step of the way, but seeing the final product brought it all together. I’d had a vision and here it was before me. I realized I was never more ready than in that moment.

“Definitely.”

“Kat,” Professor Ramirez said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“Yes?”

His handsome face lit up, the lines around his eyes crinkled. “You should be proud.”

I smiled back, my chest absolutely swollen with every possible emotion. “I am.”

The show lasted all of two minutes, even as each model made her way down the runway in a confident, unhurried fashion. All too soon my name was called out by the emcee and I stepped away from the anonymity of backstage and onto the runway. My models flanked my sides as I walked the length of the stage towards the end, hoping the entire time I wouldn’t trip over my feet and land on my face.

So maybe West wasn’t here to see this, or anyone else for that matter, but in the end it was my own satisfaction that counted. And you’d better believe that, as I stood there at the end of the runway to the applause of the audience, I was damn happy with what I’d accomplished.

I stood there for a moment, squinting against the bright lights, when my eyes settled on the face in the crowd. There, sitting on the first row with the other fashion professionals, was the actress Amanda Blake. She stopped her clapping long enough to wave and give me a thumbs-up sign.

As I walked back, my breath suddenly caught in my throat. There, in the second row, was a face I might not have recognized were it not for the proud smile splitting his pale, lined face.

I stopped, my feet glued to the floor.
“Dad?”

Then I saw the person beside him, waving and smiling. “Franny?” I whispered. My eyes traveled to her right and I about shat my pants when I saw Drew sitting beside her.

What the hell?

I don’t know how I didn’t trip as I craned my head to search for any other familiar faces, but all too soon we reached the end of the stage. I stumbled behind the screen and stared at my models for a good minute.

“Hey, Kat, you okay?” Miko asked, starting to change back to her clothes.

“But he’s in jail,” I said, fighting the urge to run out onstage and make sure I hadn’t been imagining it. And Franny I could see coming, but Drew?

“He needed to be present at his daughter’s show,” came a deep voice behind me.

I whirled around and came face to face with
West. He stood a few feet away from me, wearing jeans and a black button-down shirt, his face scruffy from a few days’ worth of stubble. Somehow just looking at him made it hard to breathe. “You’re here.”

The corners of his mouth gave the slightest lift. “I am.”

I glanced around at the models who were in various states of undress but found his dark gaze locked on me. He looked so effortless in his elegance, his hands in his pants pockets, his posture relaxed and inviting, but of everything, his unflinching, direct gaze was sexiest of all.

“Damn, Kat,” he said on a sigh and took hold of my wrist. “Come here.” Then he was tugging me, enveloping me with his long arms.

I fell into him easily, pressing my face into his chest and breathing him in. I wrapped my arms around him and felt the strong thud of his heart against my cheek.

“I missed you,” he said, sliding his hand up my neck and bringing our lips together for a kiss that was hot and needy. “God, I missed you.”

“Me too.” I looked up at him to let him see the effects of last night on my face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know how soon I could get back,” he said, running his thumb along the hollows under my eyes.

“So you brought my dad here?” I asked, glancing back towards the screen that separated us from the audience.

“I had to make sure
he was here for this day.” He bent down and took my lower lip between his own, sucking it into his mouth gently.

I pulled away. “When you didn’t come home last night, I thought you…”

He cradled my face in his hands and pressed his forehead to mine. “I thought you said you trusted me?”

“I do. At least, I tried.”

“Kat, I don’t know how many times—”

I grabbed the back of his head and rose to my toes, kissing the words right out of his mouth.

He slowed and I felt his lips form a smile against mine. “Did you just shut me up with a kiss?”

I laughed. “Maybe,” I said and kissed him again before he could form a reply. We pulled apart only when Professor Ramirez called out over the crowd, “Okay guys,
time for the final bow.”

I looked around, finding my clothes piled on top of a chair but the people wearing them gone. I gave
West one final peck on the lips before joining my classmates as we filed back out to the stage, standing on the runway in a haphazard fashion while the audience clapped.

To my left were Dad, Franny, and Drew clapping and whistling. I didn’t go back with the rest of my classmates after our final bow; instead I jumped off the stage and ran to my dad, throwing my arms around him. “How is this possible?” I asked, fighting the urge to cry.

“Early release on parole for good behavior,” he said with a huge grin splitting his face.

“I didn’t even know you were up for parole.”

“I wanted to keep it a secret, just in case,” he said. “Your boyfriend happened to call right after I’d talked to the board and got word that I would be getting an early release.”

“That’s a crazy coincidence.”

“Not really. He told me he’d been keeping tabs on me for a while now. Since he left Alaska.”

“And you were allowed to leave the state?”

“From what I understand that boyfriend of yours talked to the authorities.”

A warm hand splayed on my hand and I turned to find
West standing beside me. “I talked to his parole officer and persuaded her to let him leave the state for a few days.”

“I have to go back to Alaska on Sunday,” Dad said.

I hugged him again. “But it’s okay. You’re here. You made it.”

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he said, patting the back of my head. “I finally made it out.”

Tears stung my eyes. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me,” I said so that only my dad could hear.

“You know, I’ve done many things wrong in my life,” he said. “But you, you I got right.”

“I love you, Dad,” I said through the burning in my throat and eyes. After several deep breaths, I finally reeled in my emotions and stepped away to face the rest of my visitors.

Franny was first to come forward. “Oh my God, I’m so proud of you!” she said, throwing her arms around my neck.

“Thank you. I can’t believe you’re here!” I spied a frowning Drew over her shoulder. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate that you’re here, Sheriff, but… what the hell are you doing here?” I asked him.

He gave a good-natured shrug. “She asked me to come.”

“I have a lot to tell you,” Franny said with a conspiratorial wink. “And by the way, was that Amanda Blake waving to you in the audience?”

“Yes!” I took
Franny’s hand and searched the room for the location of said actress. “There she is. Come on.”

~

“I can’t believe I met her,” Franny said as we stood around the kitchen that night, mooning over her photographs with Amanda Blake we’d snapped on her phone. “She was so nice. She plays such a witch on TV, but she’s so different in real life.”

Josie walked over and nudged her foot, demanding attention. Franny bent down and hugged her. “I missed you too,” she said, showing genuine affection for my dog.

West set out plates on the counter while I pulled out the boxes of food from our favorite Chinese restaurant. Every now and then he’d drop a kiss on my head or pat my side, basically taking any excuse to touch me inconspicuously.

While my father was in the bathroom and Franny and Drew were talking, Luke bent down and said in a low husky voice that sent tingles up my spine, “We need to talk.”

I twisted my head around to look at him, finding our faces only inches apart. “By
talk
you mean
screw
, right?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

He chuckled. “Sure. We’ll spend the rest of the evening
talking
.”

While we ate dinner around the granite counter, Franny and Drew filled us in on what’s happened in Ayashe since I left, but strangely enough, kept skirting around a specific issue.

I waved my chopsticks between Franny and Drew. “Okay, as much as I love hearing stories about Dale
Hokkeland, I need to know: what is it with you two?”

Franny smiled over at Drew, who only smiled at her warmly. “That’s a story for another night,” she said.

West was watching me with something that looked like amusement in his eyes.

“What?” I asked, taking a bite of honey garlic chicken.

He looked pointedly at the two thin pieces of wood squeezed between my fingers, the skin around his eyes wrinkling as he smiled. 

“I had a lot of practice while you were gone.” I picked up a clump of rice. Rice, of
all things! “I guess this means I survived New York City.”

He grinned. “I never doubted you for a second.”