The Girl Most Likely To... (6 page)

Kat laughed. After so many hours of crying, the sound of her own laughter surprised her.

You're going to be OK, you know. Nola smiled kindly.

Kat nodded.

You had two moms in your life and you've just lost both of them, and it's got to suck.

Kat nodded again, then grabbed another tissue.

But you can't feel guilty, hon. How could you have known your mom was sick?

Kat blew her nose and blinked at Nola. I could have called.

Nola scrunched up her mouth. True.

Or written.

Nola nodded. Well, OK.

Or knocked on their damn door! But I was pissed off and resentful and I never wanted anything to do with my parents the rest of my life!

There's that, Nola said.

Kat reached for another tissue and laughed. What a jokeI find out my mother is dead and all I want to do is talk to Phyllis, but she's dead, too!

Nola scooted her chair closer. I really miss her.

That woman was amazing, you know? Kat blew her nose. She took me ina complete nobody off the street. She didn't ask any questions. She gave me and my baby a home.

Nola nodded again.

And I think she seemed all that more amazing to me because my actual mother couldn't wait to get rid of me!

Phyllis Turner had the best heart of anyone I ever ran across, Nola said.

She really did. Kat raised her wineglass. To Phyllis Turnera woman who lived every day proud of who she was, nothing more and nothing less.

To Phyllis, Nola said, clinking her glass to Kat's. Whose investment instincts weren't too shabby, either.

They sat for a few minutes in the quiet. Nola put a hand over her mouth to hide her yawn and Kat checked her watch to find it was after eleven.

It had been one hell of a long day, for everyone.

Kat stood up. C'mon. Let's both get some sleep. She walked Nola over to the door. Would you mind if we hit the road as early as possible tomorrow, before anything else bad can happen?

Nola looked confused. What about your aunt Rita, the evil high school principal? Weren't we going to drop in and give her a piece of your mind? Wasn't she on the list of people who owe you an apology?

Kat chuckled. The list they'd come up with on the drive that morning seemed ridiculous now. I don't have an extra piece of mind to spare at the moment. Maybe I'll write her a letter when we get home.

Sounds good. Nola stretched. Sleep tight, Kit-Kat.

You, too. Hey! Wait a sec.

Nola turned back, yawning again.

I won't keep you much longer, but look, I know this is probably going to sound dorky You've never had a dorky moment in your life, Kat, except maybe for those yellow plastic snow boots you had back in the early nineties.

Thanks. So what I was wondering isdo you think anyone could know what love is at the age of sixteen?

Nola moved her head back in surprise. You're asking for /my/ opinion on relationships?

Well, yeah.

Hmm. She scrunched up her mouth. I guess it depends on the person. I sure as hell didn't know love at sixteenor at twenty-one or thirty or thirty-sevenso I'm maybe not the best example. This is about you and Dr.

Bohunk, I'm assuming.

Yeah.

You think it was love?

Well, if it wasn't, it was as close as I ever got. Probably as close as I'll ever get.

Nola opened her arms and gave Kat a hug. As Nola pulled away, she focused her rich brown eyes on Kat's. Hear what I'm about to say. Are you listening?

Kat nodded.

Don't you dare give up, Kat. If anybody deserves to be rich, beautiful, and in love, it's you, and you're already two-thirds of the way there.

Thanks.

And I know you came here for revenge and all, but leave your options openyou might walk away with something even better. See you in the morning.

Kat locked the door behind Nola and went into the bathroom to wash, exfoliate, tone, infuse, and moisturize her face with the obscenely expensive skin-care system she'd purchased from the spa several days ago. She remembered thinking to herself that nothing was too extravagant if it meant Riley would be rendered weak in the knees at the sight of her glowing beauty. Well, the way she was feeling right then, Riley Bohland could just shove her glowing beauty right up his tight ass.

How could he be so cold and unfeeling to her? Sure, he was angry about Aidan, but hadn't Riley missed her at all? Didn't he care what had happened to her all these years? Why didn't he throw his arms around herif only out of curiosity?

Kat brushed her teeth, flossed, and turned out the bathroom light, trying to decide if what she felt inside her belly was a heaviness or an emptiness, or if there was such a thing as a heavy emptiness or an empty heaviness, and whether she should look into therapy now that she had the free time and disposable cash for it.

She threw on a cotton tank top and a pair of drawstring pajama pants, then went out into the sitting room to turn off the gas fireplace. OK, fine. Maybe this suite wouldn't be so bad for a honeymoon. It was cute and comfortable, and the bed sure was romantic. Kat guessed that if two people were really in love it wouldn't matter what the surroundings were. After all, an old blanket had once felt like a magic carpet to her and Riley.

Kat swiped what she was sure would be the last tear of the evening from her cheek and climbed up the bedside step stool, allowing her lonesome self to fall into the embrace of the gigantic four-poster monument to romance.

She'd just closed her eyes when she thought she heard a soft knock on her door. She held her breath and didn't move. There it was again. Kat climbed down the ladder and tiptoed into the sitting room. Someone was most definitely knocking at her door.

Kat, a man's voice whispered. It's Riley. Let me in.

I know; I know! Carrie switched the cell phone to her other ear and cringed with impatience. I followed him here from Davis Memorial. I'm sitting a block away in my car and, frankly, I can hardly believe what I just witnessed. How could you let him in? How could you do that to me?

Madeline's voice sounded hurt. What was I supposed to doleave him out there on the porch, banging on the door, disturbing everyone? I've got other paying guests here this weekend.

Fine. Carrie nibbled on the last rice cake in the package, calculating that with rice cakes at thirty-five calories each, she could have just eaten a jumbo-sized Snickers bar and gotten some real satisfaction, then thrown it up. Just make sure he doesn't stay long.

Madeline sighed. Carrie, I can't just barge in on people. My guests are entitled to /some/ privacy.

That made Carrie laugh. Little late for the high road, don't you think, Maddie?

I'm just saying

Get him out of there.

How am I supposed to do that?

Oh, I don't know! Damn, damn, damn! Carrie rooted around in her purse until she found the pill bottle, opened it, shook one out and stuck one on the back of her tongue, then swallowed. Don't forget to leave the kitchen door open so I can use your bathroom tonight.

Madeline groaned.

Carrie snapped closed her cell phone. Right then, she saw a light go on behind the honeymoon suite window. She knew which window it was. She'd stayed in that room many times over the years, whenever the occasion rendered it tasteless to stay at the Bohland House. That's how she and Madeline met. Carrie had been a guest at Cherry Hill many times during the course of the diabetes study. She had been a guest there the day of Aidan Bohland's funeral. A year later, she stayed there for Matt's swearing-in ceremony as chief of police. And she'd been a guest the day of the clinic's groundbreaking, when she'd smiled for the local papers like it was the happiest day of her entire life! But it wasn't.

That illustrious day had been stolen from Carrie a year ago, when Riley was told he'd knocked up a high school skank named Kat Cavanaugh and he had a teenage kid roaming the country somewhere. It had taken Carrie twelve long months to get Riley's head screwed on straight, and nothingno thing and no onewould stand between her and her happiness again.

Carrie relaxed her neck and shoulders and breathed deep, seeking her peaceful center. She closed her eyes to allow the positive energy to flow through her. She envisioned the bridal bouquet of red roses and holly. She pictured each miniature ice sculpture centerpiece adorned with mistletoe, glowing atop a contrasting red velvet tablecloth. She felt the snowy satin of her dress brush against her skin, the luxurious whisper of white chinchilla at the dйcolletage and wrists.

Her moment would come in seventy-four days. If it was the last thing she ever did, she would place one foot in front of the other and float her way toward the altar in the cutest little pair of kitten-heeled satin beaded slippers this earth had ever seen. /That conniving ho!/ Carrie grabbed the phone again. First she paged the love of her life.

Six times. No response. Then she called his cell. No answer. Then she called his answering service and demanded they page him with an emergency. She was informed that he'd already changed over for the night to the doctor in Bowden, who was covering for him.

Do you want the doctor in Bowden?

Carrie stared at the phone in horror, hanging up without a response because, no, she didn't want the fucking doctor in fucking Bowden. She wanted Dr. Riley-Fucking-Bohland. And she was going to get him.

Kat stood in the doorway wearing pajamas and an expression of bewilderment. Riley decided that without the fringed boots and the haute couture, Kat seemed smaller. Softer. And as lovely as every one of the thousand fantasies that had kept him company over the years.

Why are you here, Riley?

He tried not to stare and failed miserably. He stared at the way her hair swept back from the gentle angles of her face, the barely noticeable tremble in her plump lower lip, the delicate movement of the tendons in her neck. He stared at the sweet, small left hand that gripped the edge of the door, noting the lack of a wedding band. He stared at the rounded curve of her breast, the slope of her waist, the flare of her hip. He stared at the ten bare toes that looked so defenseless and pink against the dark hardwood floor.

He breathed deep, the essence of his youth rushing into his nostrils and straight to his brain, because Kat smelled the same. Even after all this time.

Riley shoved his hands in his pants pockets, which accomplished two thingsshe wouldn't see his hands shake, and it would keep him from doing the most stupid thing he could imagine: crushing her in his arms and never letting go.

I'm sorry you had to learn about your mother the way you did. And I'm sorry about Virgil, too.

Kat nodded, crossing her ankles and folding her arms in a blatant display of full-body self-defense. Yeah. Thanks. You know, I always thought a person had to have a heart before they could have a heart attack.

The force of Kat's bitterness caused Riley to tilt his head away. He stared into her familiar face, the delicate jaw now rigid and the honey-colored eyes hard. She might smell the same, but pretty Kat Cavanaugh had become as tough as rawhide.

He waited several moments for Kat to ask more questions about her mother. Kat didn't. She just scowled at him.

Riley blew out air through his mouth. We need to talk.

Kat stiffened, but she opened the door and motioned for him to come in.

It felt strange to be with Kat in a room where Carrie had stayed so many times. He closed his eyes momentarily in disgust, aware that Carrie had been stun-paging him for the last half hour. He double-checked that his phone and pager were on silent, only to see her numbers flash on the screen for what had to be the fifth time in as many minutes.

Busy night? Kat gestured for him to take a seat in one of the chairs.

No. I got someone to cover for me so I could spend time with you.

One of Kat's beautifully arched brows rose in a question. He could see her pulse pound under the translucent skin of her throat. Something to drink? she asked.

Sure.

Kat took a couple steps toward the tiny kitchen, grabbing a cotton hoodie sweatshirt from the counter as she went. Riley nearly groaned with disappointment when she put it on and zipped it up all the way to her chin. Not very subtle. Now he couldn't look at her throat and her breasts and the flesh of her bare arms.

Nola and I opened a bottle of red wine earlier. Will that work for you?

The phenomenon started as a faint rumbling, somewhere deep in his chest.

Then it rose to a roar, circling through his trunk and limbs shooting up to his brain. It was unlike anything he'd ever felt, and it was scary, yet exhilarating. Riley wondered if Matt would be able to hear the /snap!/ from his place across town.

Riley jumped to his feet, hands flying as the words came rushing out. It will not work for me! Nothing's fucking worked for me for twenty years!

You took my child from mehe was my child as much as yours, Kat. How could you do that? How could you leave with my baby and never even let me know?

Kat turned back to face him, her mouth open in disbelief. She laughed sharply. You told me to get lost. Perhaps that had something to do with it.

Riley could not believe this. Really? And maybe you never bothering to tell me I had a child was the lowest, most despicable thing a person could do to someone else, let alone someone they claimed they loved.

Kat's face flushed red and she stomped toward him. Right. Fine. I made a serious error in judgment and I apologize. And how about you, Riley? You said you loved me, that we would be together forever; then you threw me away like I was a piece of garbage.

Rage, lust, and loss pummeled Riley's body. He raced from one emotion to the next so fast his brain couldn't keep up. He'd dreamed about this moment for a yearhow he'd eventually find Kat and make her accountable for her selfishness. But now that the moment was here, nothing was clear. He had no idea what to say, let alone what he wanted. Because all he wanted was to hold her again, feel her soft weight against him from head to toe, disappear into the sweet, hot scent of her skin, and that would be a huge mistake. It wasn't even an option. He had to gain control of the situation, and himself.