10. Katherine
10
KATHERINE
I’ll admit it.
I’m walking a little funny this morning. It was a scurry to get down to my apartment, shower, and dress, all while being careful with my well-used muscles.
If Roman noticed me moving more gingerly than normal when he picked me up, he hasn’t given it away, bless him. He hustles me onto the elevator in the Chanler & Cort building and hits the button for my floor. A handful of others crowd in with each floor we stop at.
Pulling my phone from my purse, I give in to the need to check in with them . It’s our first group text.
Katherine: Thanks for an amazing night, even if I am walking funny this morning.
I grin as I imagine the look on their faces as they read my message.
Ding .
“Excuse me,” I say, squeezing between two middle-aged men.
I feel the heavy weight of people’s stares as I make my way to my office. What’s gotten into— oh. I forgot about the drone pictures.
My cheeks heat, but I lift my chin. The attention isn’t new, but the reason for it certainly is.
Somehow I doubt they’re whispering about the boss’s granddaughter anymore and instead are snickering about their coworker being dragged through the press.
Charlotte stands next to her desk as I walk up. She wiggles a finger around in the philodendron’s dirt to check if it needs to be watered. Inside, I preen a little, happy that I’ve spread my love of plants to those around me.
“Good morning, Charlotte.”
“Good morning, Miss Montgomery.”
She murmurs a hello to Roman. His deep voice rumbles back, her name sounding warm on his lips. I hide my smile and step into my office. I’ve got a full plate today and no time to let the outside world distract me.
Charlotte gathers a stack of notes and follows me into my office.
Maybe one day she’ll go paperless, but scraps of recyclable paper are the least of my concerns at the moment.
I circle my desk, vividly remembering lunch earlier in the week with Alex. A shiver races up the backs of my thighs. Yanking my thoughts out of that salacious gutter, I stow my purse and settle into my chair, determined to stay focused on work.
Charlotte goes over my schedule while I log into my computer. After pointing out the emails I need to respond to, she makes me a cup of tea and leaves the memos behind.
My phone chimes with a text from Ford. Smiling, I reach for my phone, promising myself this is the last distraction.
Ford: Come to Dad’s for Memorial Day weekend.
Hmm. Would the guys go with me? I want them to. I want to see Ford and Sutton... and even my dad. But I don’t know how to ask that without going into things.
Katherine: I’ll think about it.
Ford: Bring Kingston.
Katherine: If he’s in town.
It’s my standard line about King.
Ford: Don’t act like he’s not holed up in your apartment.
I grin and turn my attention back to my email, crossing and uncrossing my legs as I go through my inbox. Nothing feels normal.
I smirk to myself.
Maybe this is my new normal. Leaving the bed in the morning, well-used and with a swat on the ass, feeling the hungry gaze of my men as I make my exit. I could get used to it.
I probably shouldn’t because the shit would truly hit the fan if word got out that I was in a relationship with three men. But that truth didn’t stop me last night, and I doubt it’ll stop me in the future.
The three of them are like a drug, and I forget common sense when they look at me.
My phone buzzes, and I reach for it. Speak of the devil.
Kingston: we’re all walking funny this morning. zany face
I suppose that’s what we get for the multiple rounds. It’s going to take me a gallon of water to rehydrate. Definitely need to get Charlotte on that. Meanwhile, I sip my tea, put my phone down, and try to get a handle on my to-do list.
After exactly three items are jotted down, my phone buzzes again. I glance over. A notification bubble flashes across the top of the screen, displaying a message from Charlotte.
Charlotte: Mom incoming. * skull emoji *
Sighing, I sit back in my chair, not the least bit surprised.
I swipe the message away, sending it into the ether. Call it a sixth sense, but I quickly navigate to my voice memo app and hit record before placing my phone face down beneath my monitor.
A knot of dread sits heavy in my stomach. It sinks deeper as my mother crosses my threshold. Like I’m in the ocean and a wave has snuck up behind me, slamming me in the back and knocking my feet out from under me before dropping on my head.
The head of Human Resources is right behind her. She nods to Charlotte, who closes the door behind them.
Not a friendly chat, then.
Then again, when have my mother and I ever had friendly chats?
“Hello, Mother. Ms. McKune. What can I do for you?” I wave a hand toward the chairs across from my desk.
My mother holds up a hand and they both remain standing. “This won’t take long.”
See. Not friendly.
“Okay.”
“Given your latest,” she waves her fingers like she’s shooing away a fly, “adventure, I’ve spoken with the board?—”
She pauses, letting the word hang in the air between us like a four-day-old helium balloon. My stomach sours, and my mouth goes dry, but I keep my mask carefully in place. Show no emotion. Don’t let them see you sweat.
There’s a flicker of challenge in my mother’s eyes because she wants—no, expects—me to fold. To cave and scamper, falling in line as I always have.
But the pause stretches long enough that Ms. McKune steps in. “The board would like you to take some personal time.”
My gaze flicks to the middle-aged HR rep. “Personal time.”
The heat in my veins shifts, the blood slows, and it’s as if ice moves through me. Sharp. Jagged. Freezing. My toes curl in my beloved Jimmy Choos.
My mother chimes in again. “Think of it as a vacation, darling.”