9. Chapter 8 Katrina
E nd of January
I’m sitting at the desk in the lobby on Friday morning when Bryce and Josie come in, both wearing matching scowls. They’d gone house hunting yesterday and, by the looks on their faces, it didn’t go well.
“How did it go?” Bryce grunts, grabbing the notebook he keeps in the desk. Josie’s unpacking her laptop as she gives me a grim smile. “That good, huh?”
Bryce doesn’t answer me. We haven’t spoken much since our argument the other day. Instead, he grumbles out something about needing to make some calls. He’s halfway out the door leading into the main pool, the quietest place right now, before he backtracks. In a few strides, he’s closing the distance between him and Josie. Something twists in the pit of my stomach as he kisses her forehead, murmuring something, and then kissing her lips. Without another word or look in my direction, he’s out of the room.
Their relationship is so easy and natural. I can’t help but feel a little jealous. It’s not fair that some people just have it come so easily to them.
Josie slumps in the chair beside me, legs crossed with her laptop open on them. She checks something on her phone, frowning down at it.
The silence is awkward and tense. I need it to be broken, now. “Did you guys really not find anything you liked?”
She startles at the sound of my voice, but shakes her head once she recovers. “It’s been such a mess, Kat. We found a couple we love, but they’re so far out of our budget. Bryce doesn’t want to rent, which I understand, you know? We’re putting roots down; this is supposed to be the start of the rest of our lives. We might not have much of a choice. At least not until the club is up and running, giving us a steadier stream of income.”
I rework my question. “You didn’t find anything you like in your budget at all?”
“Technically, we did, but it’d need work done.” She hands me her phone, which is open to a house listing. “We love it, but Bryce doesn’t want to take on another project like this right now.”
When I look down at the phone, I am pulled in by a quaint two-story brick home. The front lawn looks like it needs some work, and the small porch needs a new staircase and a fresh coat of paint, but it’s in good condition overall. I flip through the pictures, listening to her rattle off all the reasons they’ve both decided this was a no. Despite Josie clearly loving it.
The closer I look at the pictures, the more I believe my initial reaction is correct: the house needs updating and remodeling, but it’s not in terrible shape. There’s some wallpaper that needs to go, a room full of wood paneling that’s giving me a headache, and a kitchen that needs a whole remodel, but those are easy fixes. At least not daunting enough to pass on a house they love.
It was also the kind of house I can picture them in, especially after making it their own. There are plenty of windows, character without being too quirky, and a large backyard for hosting friends. It really is perfect for the two of them.
“Josie, the house isn’t bad.” Her mouth snaps shut at my interruption, turning to look at me with wide eyes. “Obviously I can’t say for sure without getting in there myself or having an inspection done, but most of the updates look like they’d be cosmetic.”
“Really?” Her tone is so full of hope, I instantly make up my mind to help her. The hope is gone as soon as it’s there, though. “Bryce has a point. We have enough going on with his place to balance another renovation.”
“What if you have help?”
She’s shaking her head. “I could never ask you to do that, Kat. You have your hands full with the club.”
“You aren’t asking, I’m offering.” I shrug. “Besides, this is my only project right now, so I can juggle multiples. I have a lot of contacts in Columbia, so I’m sure we can get everything set up. You said it was in your budget?”
“Under, actually,” she admits. “We have about fifty grand to work with. Do you think that’d be enough?”
I glance down at the phone, wondering just how much money professional swimmers make. “That should be more than enough.”
“Bryce hates how small the kitchen is.”
It’s a feeble argument, and I know she’s looking for a reason not to get too excited.
“We can look into building onto it. It looks like there’s space,” I comment, flipping back to the floor plan. “That’s not something you’ll need to worry about.”
“Oh, my god,” Josie breathes as I hand her back the phone. She looks down at the pictures and her eyes practically have hearts in them. “You have no idea how happy you’re making me right now. I love this house!”
I laugh lightly. “Don’t get too excited. You still need to get Bryce on board. We both know I’m not his favorite person.”
A look of determination crosses her features, a glint of something in her eye. “Leave him to me.”
Just like that, I know what I’ve signed up for. There’s no way Bryce will say no to Josie and his behavior when he got back suddenly makes a lot more sense. He’s disappointed he can’t give her what she so clearly wants, but he can. Josie deserves to be happy here, just like Bryce, and I want to be part of that. I want her to start a new life with something she loves, something she can grow into. If that happens to be this house, well, that’s exactly why I went into this business. Unlike Thomas, I mean it when I say I want to help people bring their dreams to life.
I ’m packing up my bag to head home when Bryce finds me, hands stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie, biting down on his bottom lip. “Do you have a minute to talk?”
The front door is less than twenty feet away, and he’s not blocking my path. Theoretically, I could grab my bag and make a run for it. I didn’t have to face this conversation or the consequences of my actions over the last four weeks, but I do owe him an apology.
I’m woman enough to know when I fuck up and I need to apologize for it. That’s what needs to happen, so I nod.
“Josie told me about you offering to help with the house,” he begins. “I just want to thank you for that. I could see it on her face. She loves it and I want to make her happy.”
This isn’t the opening I was expecting. It’s not the two of us revisiting the last conversation we had. Instead, he’s giving me an opening and I’m going to take it. “I think it’s a great house, Bryce, and you’re right about her loving it. I’m more than happy to help. I’ve already got some ideas.”
“I called our realtor.” His gaze keeps shifting around the room, refusing to settle on anything. “We put in an offer. Apparently, the owners are eager to sell, so she’s hopeful we’ll find out in the next couple of days and then we’ll do the inspection.”
“Sounds great.” I smile softly, wanting to ease his awkwardness. He’s not comfortable. “Look, Bryce, I owe you an apology.”
Gray eyes finally meet my gaze, his brow furrowed in confusion. “For what?”
I fiddle with the ends of my ponytail, debating whether I want to bring up something he isn’t ready to talk about, but I know I can’t avoid it forever. “About earlier?”
“Wait.” He frowns, shaking his head. “You seriously want to talk about that?”
“Of course I do! I was a jerk to you. I’ve been nothing but a jerk the whole time I’ve been here and, not to mention, unprofessional.”
“Whoa, Kat, hold on.” He’s giving me an amused grin, making him look boyish. “I’m not sure I’d go that far. You’re just out of your element here; just like I am. I don’t know anything about building things.”
“But you’re not questioning my ability to do my job, or my knowledge,” I contradict. Now that the apology has started coming out, it can’t be stopped. “You’re the professional athlete—you know what a place like this needs. I know how to build it, that’s it. I’m not even the one who came up with the design.”
The amusement drops from his face. “Hey, no. Don’t sell yourself short. Liam might be the one who came up with the design, but you’re the one bringing it to life. We literally can’t do this without you.”
Part of me wants to bring up the fact that I’m not even doing that, not really. I’m overseeing and managing the people bringing it to life. But something in Bryce’s demeanor stops me short.
“That’s the last thing I wanted to talk about, Katrina. I thought that was done and over with, but maybe I’m shit at communication.” He chuckles, like there’s some inside joke. “Actually, I know I’m shit at communication. Just ask my girlfriend and best friend.”
A smile tugs at the corners of my lips. “I’m not sure anyone is great at it all the time.”
“I’m working on it.” I’m not sure if he’s reassuring me or himself. “I had something else I needed to talk to you about. Can you hang out a minute more? This is related to work.”
I try to keep up with the slightly abrupt change of subject with a nod, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. “Sure, what’s up?”
“Starting in early February, there’s going to be someone else around a lot more.”
There’s a swoop of something in the pit of my stomach at the thought of someone else being around, because who else could it be? Maybe Carter decided he wasn’t going to try for the Olympics anymore. Or maybe there’s a pool here he can train at instead. There have to be a million different reasons for him to be moving here permanently early, right?
Why is the thought of him being here all the time terrifying?
Over the last month, I’ve created this fantasy version of Carter Abrams from the phone calls, emails, and text messages we’ve shared. We haven’t talked about anything important, but he’s been easy to talk to. We’d crossed professional lines I’d set for myself more often than I care to admit, making it somehow different. There’s something pulling me toward him—an impulse that makes me want to know more. It’s a dangerous feeling, one I’ve spent weeks trying to ignore, and if he’s here, I doubt I’d be able to ignore it at all.
“Mia Sheridan is moving here.” The little Carter centric bubble pops around me. “She’s Josie’s best friend. Maybe she’s talked to you about her? Carter and I hired her to work on marketing the club. She wants to get started as soon as possible and use the construction process to help us build some hype.”
Now a whole new sense of worry crashes around me. He’s right, Josie’s told me about Mia, but I didn’t necessarily think I’d ever meet the woman. I know it’s ridiculous to worry that my new friend will ditch me, but it’s there. Building friendships hasn’t ever come naturally to me, and I tend to feel protective of the one I have with Josie.
“Is that a problem?”
Bryce is staring intently at me as I snap out of my thoughts. I blink up at him for a moment. “No, of course not. Why would it be?”
“I don’t know, but you were being weirdly quiet about it.”
Embarrassed, I look away. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.” I grab my bag, hosting it over my shoulder, hoping Bryce gets the hint that I’m ready to get out of here. “Josie’s told me about her. I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
“She’s excited to be here,” Bryce confirms. “I think the change of pace will be good for her. But I’ve kept you long enough. I’ll let you go.”
As I flash him a grateful smile, my stomach lets out a growl that has us both laughing.
“Okay, that clearly means I have to go.”
“One last thing.” I nearly let out a groan. How many more last things could there possibly be? “I’m serious. I just want to go back to your apology. There’s nothing to apologize for. Let’s just trust that each of us knows what we’re talking about and go from there. Sound good?”
Gripping the strap of my bag, I nod. “That’s what I should have been doing from the beginning.”
He nods. “Then we’re good. Have a good night, Kat.”
“You too Bryce.”
A couple of hours later, I find myself sinking into the comfy couch in my living room as the sound of the phone ringing echoes through the otherwise empty space. It takes several rings before Will answers, the video call connecting a moment later. On instinct, I smile as his image comes into focus, but it diminishes with the blank look on his face.
“Hey!” My voice is overly perky, even to my own ears. He smooths a hand over his short, reddish-brown hair, which he must have recently buzzed again, because it wasn’t like that last week when we did this. “Are you okay?”
“Fine. Tired.” Those two words are the only response he offers, staring expectantly.
“Have your shifts been long?”
I can hear him tapping against the table impatiently. “I’m an ER doctor at a trauma hospital in a major US city, Katrina. What do you think?”
I sink further back into the couch, cheeks flushing. “Right. Stupid question.”
He snorts. “You think?”
Biting my lip, I glance around the living room to find something to focus on. Something that will keep the tears at bay.
He notices, though, because he lets out a groan. When I look back at the phone, he’s rubbing at his temples. “Don’t cry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”
It’s not an apology, but it’s the closest I’ll ever get. “It’s fine.”
Fine. God, I hate that word. Everything in my life is fine. My job is fine. My relationship is fine. They’re all stagnant and fine. Except, for the first time in a long time, I’m feeling the itch beneath my skin to change that. To make my life better than fine, even if I’m not sure how.
“How’s the project going?” I’m not surprised that he changes the subject instead of offering me any comfort or trying to fix what he’d done. “Have you finished demo?”
I play with the edge of my sweatshirt as I nod. “They’ve already started replacing the outdoor pool, since that’s the area we’re focusing on first. That’s the first step and then we’ll build everything out around it. That should be done by the end of February, weather permitting.”
He nods while his gaze is focused somewhere else. Maybe his computer or tablet is off the screen. “That’s good.”
Nothing else, no further questions asked. I guess I have to keep talking. “It’s been nice having Bryce’s girlfriend around. I have someone to talk to and hang out with on the weekends.”
He looks at the camera. “Are you and Clark not getting along?”
Will and I haven’t talked since the disastrous fight earlier in the week, and I don’t feel the need to bring it up now. It’s been taken care of. The only person I need to talk things out with is Carter, and I’m still not sure how to approach that conversation. “We get along fine. We just tackle things differently.”
“He’s a jackass,” Will scoffs.
If he had asked me a week ago, I would have agreed with Will, but now I’m not so sure. There’s something about Bryce Clark that I can’t put my finger on, but I think he cares deeply about his friends. The way he jumped to Carter’s defense was more about being his friend than an athlete, and the whole thing with Mia seems weird. Josie has told me how much Mia enjoys her job in Charlotte. To suddenly have her moving here, working for them, makes me think there’s more to the story than I’m being told.
“I wouldn’t say that. I think he just knows what he wants.” It isn’t a lie because Bryce isn’t afraid of letting his opinion be known. “He and his girlfriend are looking for houses here in Columbia. They want to settle down and start establishing some roots. I offered to help while I’m here.”
His focus was on something off camera again. “How much are they paying you for that?”
“Nothing.” The thought of asking for money for this never even occurred to me. “I’m not doing it for the money. I’m doing it to help friends out.”
He’s shaking his head. “That’s your problem, Katrina. You don’t know the difference between work and fun. They’re not your friends, they’re clients. If they have another project they want your assistance on, then you should be compensated for that.”
I fist my hand in the sleeve of my sweatshirt, gritting my teeth. “It’s not like that, Will. I’m doing it for his girlfriend. She’s been wonderful.”
“What will your father say when he finds out?” Will questions. “You’re still being a representative of Dalton Enterprises.”
“Stepfather,” I grit out. I might not have a clue who my biological father is, but Thomas Dalton has never been my father. Not the way he should have been, and I refuse to claim him as such now. “And I don’t care what he thinks.”
Will’s laugh sounds as mean as he intends it to. “Keep telling yourself that, Katrina.”
“I need to go, Will,” I snap, fighting back the urge to cry and be sick. Why did he have to call out all my insecurities? “I have to get some sleep.”
He doesn’t press me. Doesn’t mock the fact that I don’t usually sleep all that well and can never fall asleep before midnight like I expect him to. Instead, he just smiles, like he’s accomplished all he wanted to. “Sounds good. I’ll talk to you later.”
I nod. “I lov—”
He disconnects the call.