38. Kate
Chapter Thirty-Eight
KATE
It’s been weeks since I left New York and nothing from Drew. I called him again when I got to the airport the day after he left. His phone rang. And rang. And rang. I wanted to leave a message but when the moment came, I froze and hung up.
For days afterward, I was glued to my phone but he never called back. Never sent another message. The more time that passed, the more I convinced myself that he didn’t really love me. That we were caught up in a moment in time. That maybe he’s been cruising around Tower Bridge with another woman on the back of his bike.
The thought makes me sick. All of it makes me uneasy. Probably why I haven’t been able to stomach anything.
I find myself scrolling Cheeri-Ooh!’s website for gossip about him. So far, nothing. I want to call him again. I do. But every time I pick up the phone, I can’t bring myself to dial. I don’t know why. What’s wrong with me? It makes me feel like I was right. Neither of us are good at love, so why make it worse?
Still, I can’t stop thinking of him. I miss him constantly. During the day, I keep busy with work. There’s so much to do with this new deal and my new collection. But at night, when I’m alone, my heart, my body aches for him. I wish things were different. I wish we didn’t have lives thousands of miles from one another. I wish we were the kind of people who could be together for real. But we’re not.
Beau’s been stopping by to check on me nearly every day. I’ve tried to keep a stiff upper lip because I’m afraid if I don’t I will completely unravel, which is what I’ve been trying to avoid this whole time. But today, she brings Garret along with her. It’s Saturday, so I’m in sweats and a messy bun—finally able to dress how I feel.
Like shit.
“Hey, what are you guys doing here?” I say, answering the door.
“We wanted to invite you to come to Chateau Marmont with us for brunch mimosas,” Beau says, giving me her usual warm hug.
“Thanks but I kind of want to lay low today.” I let them inside and wander into my kitchen. Mimosa aren’t the worst idea.
“You got something in the mail.” Garret sets a large envelope down on the white granite and places the rest of the mail to the side. It’s not a small stack either. I guess I haven’t been to my mailbox in a while. I peek at the return address. Lux Magazine . My stomach knots, and I hide my panicked expression inside the fridge. Where is the orange juice?
“Thanks,” I say.
“Don’t you want to open it?” Garret asks.
“Maybe later.” I stare at the champagne mixer on the shelf door. Beau and Garret whisper to one another. Who knows what they’re saying about me?
“Or, I can open it now,” Garret says followed by the distinct sound of ripping paper.
I slam the fridge shut. “No. Don’t!” I know what’s likely to be in there. And I’m not sure I’m ready to see it.
“Too late!” Garret’s gawking at whatever’s inside—eyes light up. “It’s a proof of the spread.”
Beau gasps. “Oh, my God, Kate! It’s gorgeous. You look amazing!”
“Very sexy. This is going to be huge for the brand,” Garret adds. Yep, just another photograph to remind me of Drew. That’s the last thing I need right now. “This is for you.” He hands me a small envelope with Kate handwritten on the outside and the initials N.S. embossed on the flap.
“It’s from Nina Savoy,” I say, and my hands begin trembling. My friends gape at me while I open the letter and read it aloud.
“Dear Kate,
Congratulations on a gorgeous feature in Lux Magazine. I was so right to have you pose for the spread. Hope you’ll visit us in London again soon.
Best,
Nina Savoy.”
The three of us stare at each other slack-jawed. “I guess you won the queen’s heart,” Garret says and hands me the glossy proof.
I can’t look at it. What if it hurts? But it’s here. Right in front of me. So I can’t not look at it either. I swallow my fear and open the page. My eyes settle on a perfectly airbrushed photo of me in my lacy, black lingerie—my silky bra strap dangling off my shoulder, and my stockings straight.
The photo captures everything that I want my brand to be. It’s elegant, bold, and fiercely sexy. I stare at my expression in the picture—that look in my eyes. It’s the only thing they didn’t touch up. It’s the only thing totally real about the whole photograph. And it was for him. For Drew. The man who I’ve broken all my rules for. All except for the most important one. And because of that, it’s over. He’s on my wall. In this photograph. But he’s out of my life.
Tears prickle my eyes and within seconds, I throw my head back in a huge sob. It’s so big that I’m positive there’s a bubble over my head that says, WAH!
“Oh, my God, Kate!” Beau rushes to my side, and I feel her arms around me.
“Oh, no,” Garret says then scurries off in a panic.
“I miss Drew. I miss him so much,” I manage to say during the ugliest cry I’ve ever had over a boy. Maybe the most tearful release ever. I step away from Beau, and slide down to the floor, resting my head against the cabinet.
“What do we do?” Garret returns with a box of tissues and begins tossing them near my face as if that’s how tissues wipe away tears. They fall at my feet, unable to do anything about this heartbreak. See! This is why. This is exactly why I don’t do this.
“Call Lisa,” Beau says and brings me into her arms again. If anyone knows how to manage a broken heart, it’s Beau.
Twenty minutes later, my friends manage to get me to the couch. Lisa’s standing over me as I cry wild tears.
“She’s been like this since I called,” Garret says.
“Okay, I’ve got it. Thanks, guys. You can go.” Lisa peels me off the couch and lays me on her chest like I’m six again. She soothes my head, shoulders, and back with her warm, motherly touch. And with the magic of her unconditional love, my tears slowly begin to subside.
“Just breathe,” she says softly, and I inhale and exhale. Inhale. Exhale. “What are you feeling?”
“I feel . . .” My chin trembles. “I feel heartbroken.”
“What happened?”
Lisa has always wanted me to meet someone special. She’d always be disappointed when nothing worked out so I never told her about Drew. Not about the motorcycle ride, the park, the sketchbooks, or our weekend in New York. And I’m pretty sure she never saw any of the photos from Cheeri-Ooh! because she never mentioned them.
When I regain what’s left of my composure, I relive my entire romance with Drew right there on the couch with Lisa. Balled-up tissues litter my living room rug. My face is warm and wet, and I can’t breathe through my nose anymore. She listens thoughtfully but is careful not to react too much, hiding her smile during all the really good parts like how we danced to Billy Joel and Barry-freaking-Manilow.
“He’s obviously crazy about you,” Lisa starts. “What are you so afraid of?”
“Getting hurt. Being miserable for the rest of my life because it didn’t work out.”
She wipes her thumb over my wet cheeks, and I can smell her La Mer cream. “But honey, you’re already hurt and miserable.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want it to be worse than this.” I blow my nose into an already sopping wet tissue.
“Take it from someone who’s been heartbroken a few times. It doesn’t get worse than this.” She rustles my messy bun.
“But look at you and Dad. Don’t you wish you never married him?” I ask, relieved to finally ask her this burning question.
“No!” she says with an incredulous chuckle.
I blink a few times. Not the reaction I expected. Not in the least.
“Your father was great to me. We had a good life together while it lasted. And if I hadn’t married him, I would have never had the opportunity to help raise you. And that’s something I’d never trade for anything in the world. Kate, I’m so proud of you. I wouldn’t wish a single day away. Not even the bad ones.”
“Really?” I ask, sniffling.
Lisa nods, and I look into her crystal blue eyes. “Yes. Being in love is one of the greatest experiences you will ever have. You don’t want to look back and wish that you hadn’t let love pass you by.”
“But he lives so far away. I’m not sure how we can make it work.”
“Well, you haven’t even tried yet. Maybe he will move here. Maybe you move to London. He’ll probably fly you back and forth on his jet. He’s a Bonnaire. He can afford it.”
I tilt my head, wrinkling my brow. “How do you know about the Bonnaires?”
“I met Dean Bonnaire a couple of times. Once back in the ‘90s at a party in Paris, and again at one of Nina’s Savoy’s parties in London. He was such a fox but he was married.” Lisa’s gaze drifts like she’s daydreaming about Drew’s father. If he looked anything like his son when he was younger, I could see why.
“But he hasn’t called. What if he won’t talk to me? What if it’s too late?”
“If he meant what he said, then he’ll at least hear you out. I’m sure he misses you as much as you miss him.”
I lean back and suck in a deep breath. I don’t know how the hell I got here, but here I am. And after talking with Lisa, I feel like maybe it’s okay to put myself out there. Maybe it’s worth taking a chance on love. And if I’m going to take a chance with anyone, it will be him.
“I don’t know how to get him back,” I say, at a loss.
Lisa looks at me like the answer is obvious. “Yes, you do.”