Katia's Promise (2 page)

It was odd, Katia mused, as she dipped her spoon into the chocolate mousse, that Hanna should pop into her mind like that. She hadn’t thought of Hanna in a long time, though she had been Katia’s mentor in many ways.

Was it possible that these old memories had something to do with her earlier panic attack?

CHAPTER TWO

W
ITH
HER
HEAD
propped against three down pillows, Katia sat in bed and turned on her iPad. Her guests were gone and the kitchen was clean. With the sound of the dishwasher running in the background, Katia checked her emails. She clicked through the usual sale announcements from her favorite stores and a reminder about her dentist appointment later that week, then read a note from Ava apologizing for missing the party. Katia quickly answered Ava and promised to bring some of her chocolate mousse to the office for Barry to bring home. At least they’d get a taste of the party.

Because Katia had promised Jack that she would order a case of Crenshaw cabernet for him, she banged out a quick email to Liz Crenshaw. She’d been getting closer with Liz since her last trip through Indian Lake. Katia admired her drive and ambition, and she was impressed by Liz’s plans to expand her vineyard. Katia was also a very good customer, which had helped spark their friendship. She’d promised Liz she would recommend Crenshaw wines to all her friends. Since the wines were excellent and a good price, Katia didn’t have much trouble finding enthusiastic new customers for Liz.

Before typing out her order, Katia asked about Liz’s grandfather’s health. Sam had undergone open heart surgery just over a month ago, and she knew Liz had been spending a lot of time caring for him. Then she asked about the case of wine and requested that Liz set aside a half dozen bottles so she could restock her bar after tonight’s party.

Katia glanced at her digital alarm clock and was surprised it was not even ten o’clock. She was exhausted, and Jack had told her to “get some rest.” He’d mentioned something about being sharp for their Monday meeting.

Katia didn’t have the slightest idea what he’d meant by that, but he had seemed a bit preoccupied during dinner. The more she thought about it, the more she felt dread creeping up on her like a snake.

If there was something amiss with the company, Katia hoped Jack and Barry had enough confidence in her skills and professionalism to trust her with that information. She’d taken it as a good sign that Jack had attended the party for Tina. Her assistant was hardworking, intelligent and dedicated to the company. Katia believed that Jack recognized her own loyalty to Carter and Associates, and knew that she’d always been focused on becoming a partner. Insurance was one of the few businesses that still rewarded loyalty, longevity and impressively long client lists.

Katia had always intended to be nothing short of a stellar employee for Jack.

That was another reason she didn’t understand her panic attack. She’d been in a gazillion situations with Jack that many women would construe as romantic, yet they’d all been for work. They’d sailed into the sunset on Lake Michigan with clients, sipped French champagne on the lawn of a Lake Forest estate and danced to harp music at Christmas high tea at the Drake Hotel. Yet every moment had been strictly professional, in conjunction with Katia’s efforts to sign new clients.

Jack stuck to his rules like superglue. He’d never once acted inappropriately; never held her hand or gazed at her a fraction of a second too long.

Over the years, Katia had come to understand that Jack wasn’t into her. Period. And that had been okay.

Until tonight.

Tonight, Katia’s psyche, if not her conscious mind, had suddenly realized that Tina was the last of her friends to pair off. Everyone was married. Except Katia.

She didn’t have weekend lunches or theater matinees with her girlfriends anymore. And when they did manage to get together, half of them had to rush home to kids. Or, like Ava, they had to break dates because of a sick child.

Katia’s iPad dinged with a new email. Katia smiled as she opened the note from Liz.

Hi, Katia,

I’m so happy your friends like our wine so much and that you are true to your word about being my Chicago advertising advocate. I will be happy to put a case aside for you as well as the extra bottles. You can pick them up on your next trip through town. When do you think that will be? I’ve come to look forward to your visits, and though I don’t email on a daily basis, I’m apparently falling into the habit.

We’ve been busy with the harvest, but for me, there’s been a big change. Since I saw you only two weeks ago, Gabe and I got engaged! Because you two knew each other in high school, sharing the news with you was fine with him.

Katia groaned. “Not you, too! Is this some conspiracy?” She exhaled deeply, hoping to rid her cells of her growing envy. She read further.

Honestly, I’ve never been into the white-dress thing, though nearly all my girlfriends are. Frankly, Gabe and I are talking about eloping. Or a seriously small wedding. Don’t say a word—not that you know that many people here anymore! We just don’t see any point in waiting another week, to be honest. Who knows, by the time you come through Indian Lake again, I may be married!

And thank you for asking about my grandfather’s health. He’s doing amazingly well. I can’t believe it, to be honest.

The reason we’re still up is because we just got back from driving an order into town. It was last minute and our customer can be rather demanding when he wants to be. Actually, it’s pretty exciting for us in Indian Lake. Austin McCreary—you probably wouldn’t have known him when you lived here since I think he’s quite a few years older than us. But anyway, we’re excited because he decided to build a car museum on the south side of town. He’s giving a big show-and-tell for the City Council, the Mayor and the Northwest Indiana Tourism Board members and officers. Should be around fifty people. Actually, I’m going to bartend for him, which is another chance to get our wines advertised and “out there.” But Grandpa is fine. He’ll be so pleased when I tell him that our wines were such a hit at your party.

Let me know when you’ll be coming through town. I don’t want to miss you!

Fondly,

Liz

Katia threw back the covers and shot out of bed as if she’d been set on fire. She raked her fingers through her long hair and pulled it tightly away from her face. Any thoughts of sleep were distant.

“This isn’t happening.
Austin?
”

Katia paced at the end of her bed and then left the bedroom. She went straight to the kitchen and poured a tall glass of milk, took out a full bowl of chocolate mousse and sat at her small table. Her mind raced as she shoved the mousse into her mouth.

She’d made four trips through Indian Lake and hadn’t once thought about Austin.
Oh, no. Instead, tonight, when I practically felt as if I was having a heart attack...
Now
he comes back to haunt me
.

She knocked back a big slug of milk.
A car museum. Humph. What’s that all about, Austin? As if you need a museum
.

Katia finished off the mousse and swallowed the last of the milk. The dishwasher was still running, so she put her dishes in the sink.

Padding quietly into the living room, she sank onto the sofa. The truth was that Indian Lake and Austin McCreary were part of her past. All these years that she’d been in Chicago, working toward her dream of becoming a partner at Carter and Associates, she’d barely thought about her childhood. It was her job and the need to go beyond Chicago to find clients—not nostalgia—that had led her back to Indian Lake this summer. She’d stumbled upon Crenshaw Vineyards, and her new friendship with Liz was the reason she’d returned on several occasions.

Katia had stuffed her past deep down inside her, refusing to bring those shadows into the light. She knew all too well that it could be dangerous to allow those memories to rise to the surface.

Katia had grown up in a mansion in Indian Lake filled with elegant antiques. Katia’s mother, Stephania, had been the housekeeper, but Katia had paid attention to every nuance of Hanna and Daniel McCreary’s lifestyle. Because Stephania had been responsible for overseeing the McCrearys’ everyday schedule, as well as holiday events and dinner parties, Katia had eased into whatever job needed doing, from sous chef to table decorator to bartender. Before Katia had hit her teens, she’d learned about wines from Mr. McCreary. Katia had developed a sharp palate, which she believed was even better than Austin’s at the time.

Austin was three years older than Katia. She hadn’t seen him since the summer she was sixteen, when she and her mother had left Indian Lake. That was the summer Katia had known for certain that Austin had finally fallen in love with her. She’d been in love with him since the day she and her mother had moved into the McCreary mansion when she was only seven years old.

Katia’s parents were immigrants from Russia. Her father had been a mason and tile layer until his death in a truck accident on the South Side of Chicago. Katia’s mother, Stephania, spoke very little English and had never worked in her life before her husband’s death. A friend from their church had told Stephania she knew of two people looking for a full-time housekeeper. Stephania had applied for both jobs, but Hanna McCreary had wanted a live-in housekeeper, and Stephania couldn’t turn down the offer of free room and board for her and Katia.

Daniel McCreary owned a large auto-parts manufacturing plant and a retail store in Indian Lake. That same year, he had signed a very large corporate contract, which required him to spend more hours at the plant and less time at home with his wife and son. Hanna was the president of three charities and overwhelmed with her duties.

Stephania and Katia lived in the rear rooms on the first floor with their own entrance at the back, next to the driveway that led to one of three large old carriage houses. These buildings had been converted into garages to house Daniel’s collection of antique cars.

When they were kids, Austin often treated Katia like a pest and did his best to pretend, especially around his school friends, that she wasn’t anyone special to him. But in the long summer evenings when the light refused to fade and children’s attentions were not easily occupied, Austin had sought Katia out for tennis matches on the family clay courts, a swim in the pool, games of chess or Monopoly when it rained. She was his partner when his mother had forced him to take dancing lessons, and she had held a foil and worn thick cotton armor when he’d learned to fence.

Even then, Katia had known that she was only a substitute playmate for Austin, someone to stand in when his father was too busy to see him, but she didn’t care. She thought Austin walked through the stars at night and skated on sunbeams in the day. In her eyes, he could do no wrong. When Austin was with her, he was happy, carefree and inquisitive. She didn’t care that he shunned her as a “servant” when he was trying to impress his school friends, though at times, their barbs pierced the edges of her feelings. Katia believed that Austin would be her hero and come to her rescue if she ever truly needed it. She believed they were closer than any two people alive and only she knew the “real” Austin.

When Austin was fifteen and she was twelve, Daniel McCreary died. Gone was the man Austin had revered and tried to emulate. She remembered eavesdropping on dinner conversations where Daniel would herald the accomplishments of his grandfather, Ambrose McCreary, who had been one of the pioneer automobile designers at the turn of the century in Indianapolis. He’d talked to his son about Duesenbergs, Auburn Cords and Studebakers. Names from the past, connoting elegance and innovation. Katia had been enthralled as Daniel had spun his dreams of manufacturing replacement parts for antique cars. Austin had continually nagged his father for more stories about Ambrose and the kind of mind that he’d had. More than once, Katia had heard Austin say, “I should have been born back then. I could have been great like him.”

Though she’d understood that Austin was expected to take over his father’s manufacturing plant once he finished business college, for Austin, life without his father in it was like sleepwalking.

Daniel’s funeral had been on Valentine’s Day. Afterward, nearly a hundred people had come to the McCreary mansion for an enormous buffet dinner reception. They’d eaten, drunk, cried, laughed and reminisced.

That night, a blizzard had barreled into Indian Lake, nearly shutting down the interstate. Many guests had been snowbound and talked about sleeping on the library floor until the weather cleared up.

For Austin, it had all been too much. He’d disappeared.

Katia had been frantic until she’d glanced out her bedroom window and seen a faint light glowing in one of the carriage houses. She pulled on her boots and coat, and, taking an envelope from under the sweaters in her dresser drawer, she’d clomped through the new-fallen snow to the carriage house.

She’d found Austin sitting in a blue 1926 Bugatti convertible—Daniel’s favorite. Austin had been sobbing his heart out.

Katia was careful not to make any noise as she approached the car. Daniel had never allowed her to look at the cars, much less touch them. Austin, however, had gleefully sneaked her into the carriage houses each time his father had acquired a new beauty. Austin had been all too happy to display his extensive knowledge of the features and history of each car. He’d taken pride in the fact that his father would go to great lengths to find authentic chrome bumpers for his Duesenberg or brass and glass headlamps for a 1920 Stutz Bearcat. Katia had loved the romance of the exquisite cars with their leather seats, velvet upholstered doors and sterling silver flower vases. It was her way of living in another era by literally touching objects from bygone times.

Sometimes Katia would double-dare Austin into sitting in the 1955 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud. She liked to pretend she was a movie star or a princess in Monaco. Anyone but who she was—the maid’s daughter.

Most of the time, Austin obliged her. He’d told her that since she understood his love for antique cars, she had to be his “kindred soul.” She hadn’t known what that meant at the time, so she’d looked it up in one of the books in Daniel’s library. When she’d read the meaning, she’d wondered if this was Austin’s way of telling her that she was special to him.

She’d just begun to feel as if they were becoming real friends when Daniel had died.