12. Gabe/Katherine
12
GABE/KATHERINE
GABE
I don’t expect a reply from Katherine, seeing as it’s the middle of the morning on a weekday. But I keep my phone on my desk as I read through the latest projection report. Everything looks steady, which I appreciate after those first few years of rocket-ship-like growth. At the time, it felt exponential and exhausting, which explains why my body is trained to function on so little sleep.
My phone vibrates across the glass desktop and I reach for it, report forgotten. There’s a new group text. Me, Alex, and Kingston.
Kingston: good thinking!
I assume he’s referring to not needing to use our walking muscles when we see Katherine later. I smirk, imagining her riding my face. Crying out with pleasure as Alex and King watch.
Gabe: thought you’d like that.
Kingston named the conversation “Katherine’s Guys.”
If I needed any more evidence that this is a thing, the three of us, the four of us, rather, this is it. Black pixels on my screen. Undeniable.
Kingston: Are you guys free tonight? I thought I’d cook.
Alex: can you cook?
Kingston: of course!
Kingston: you doubt me?
I hear his voice in my head. See those pouty lips and that hurt, almost puppy dog expression. Then I remember the way he looked as he came, filling Katherine’s ass.
My dick twitches, eager for another round.
Alex: Happy to be proven wrong. smirking face emoji
Gabe: feel free to cook at our place if you want. I’ll get Vic to give you a card.
I shoot Vic a quick note and then flip back to the group text, studying the name.
Gabe changed the name of the conversation to “3 eggplant emojis, no smiling cat with heart-eyes emoji.”
Katherine
Two sets of eyes shoot in my direction. I give Simon a little wave, feeling better just stepping foot in the door. I’m surrounded by friends and plants. Friends who like me for me and plants who have very simple requirements.
His shop has been a sanctuary for me, and I need his plants and vivacious personality more than ever.
“Katrina!” He steps my way, letting go of the massive pot.
It rocks back and forth precariously. He gasps, his dark brown eyes swerving back to the project at hand. Luckily, his assistant has a good hold on the bush-sized jade plant and manages to keep her balance.
“You’re just in time.” His smile is wide. Full lips. Bright white teeth. He glances past me.
I follow his gaze to where Roman takes up position near the shop door, hands folded in front of him.
I turn back, happy to have something else to think about for a few minutes.
“How did you get yourself into this?” I wave toward the plant.
I start to put my phone away and my cheeks turn bright pink as I read Gabe’s text a second time. No time for that now. Taking a cooling breath, I slide my phone into my purse and tuck it behind the counter before stepping toward them.
The space is overflowing with pots, plants, tools, and spray bottles full of peroxide mixtures and fertilizers. It smells of dirt and vegetation, with heavy, humid air and a hint of fish emulsion.
“It’s an orphan.” Simon frowns and gives the pot another tug.
“Somebody left it in the alley this morning,” Bonnie adds.
“Wow. Well, at least they brought it to you.” I’ve had to bring a few plants back to him. Finicky types that just weren’t happy in my apartment. There’s no shame in realizing a plant is outside your expertise and finding it a better home.
“It’s a rootbound mess,” he says.
“We’re trying to salvage the pot if we can, but it needs to come out.”
This is not the right outfit for this sort of thing, but I reach for the pot anyway. Made of thick clay with a wavy design, I can tell it’s old. Worn. And the plant has obviously been in there a while.
Bonnie gives a tug as Simon and I hold the plot in place. A smirk curls my lips at the thought of a photographer catching a picture of this. Me in my work-appropriate attire, dirt beneath my nails, one brush away from snagging my dress. I love it .
We play tug-of-war with the pot and giant plant, but it doesn’t give up.
“Have you tried tapping the pot?”
“Yep.”
“Twisting as you pull?” I ask.
“Miss Montgomery?”
I turn to Roman, who’s a handful of feet away now.
“May I?” He gestures toward the pot.
I step out of the way, waving him forward. “Simon, Bonnie, this is Roman. Roman, this is Simon and his assistant Bonnie. He likes to call himself my plant dealer,” I whisper conspiratorially.
“You don’t have someone else, do you?” Simon asks, sounding suspicious. He holds out a hand to Roman, eyeing him, not even trying to hide his curiosity.
Roman’s lips twist, but he shakes Simon’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too.” Simon glances between the two of us, obviously adding two plus two and getting five.
Bonnie waves, and Roman gives her a nod, then reaches for the pot. Simon steps around and grabs the trunk that’s as thick as his wrist.
“How old do you think it is?”
“Forty, maybe fifty years,” Simon answers and for a moment, we all pause, looking at each other.
I peg Simon at maybe thirty-five. And Roman? Late twenties. Same for Bonnie.
This plant could be older than all of us.
“Let’s be careful,” Bonnie murmurs, adjusting her grip.
Roman nods. “Ready?”
“Go.”
They tug.
Roman’s biceps bunch beneath his inky dark shirt. Simon and Bonnie look like they’re in the fight of their life. And then, as if deciding that they’re really just trying to help, the plant pulls free, and Roman lowers the pot to the floor.
The root ball resembles a piece of petrified wood. Call me crazy, but I’m glad this old plant found its way to Simon’s doorstep. He’ll take care of it.
“Nice job,” Bonnie says as they lay it down.
“Thank you, Roman.”
“Yes, thank you. That was intense,” Simon murmurs.
“No problem.” He returns to his spot by the door.
Bonnie hops down from the workbench and disappears into the back of the store.
Once they’re out of earshot, Simon glances my way with a gleam in his eyes. “I want to hear everything.”
“I just came for a plant,” I quip.
He makes a tsking sound, waving his finger back and forth. I feel like I’ve known him forever. He took care of plants for my grandmother years ago. When she passed, my grandfather did away with his services because he didn’t care for most living things. Certainly not green things.
I still have most of Grandmother’s collection, though.
“You know the rules. Your money’s no good here. Gimme the gossip.” He wiggles the fingers on both hands in a ‘gimme gimme’ motion.
I sigh and pretend to contemplate something truly salacious. But I’ve got nothing. No juicy tidbit from Ford. Definitely nothing I want to share about my mother.
“I’m about to go to brunch with Kingston’s sisters. I bet I’ll have something later.”
He smiles. “What about him?”
He nods toward Roman.
I tip my head to the left. “My bodyguard.”
Simon’s brows lift. “Paps?”
“Yeah.”
“And the two dreamy billionaires who paid for a date with you. Where are they?”
I shrug. “At work, I guess.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “You guess?”
I just smile at him.
“You’re not going to tell me where you disappeared to this weekend?” He purses his lips slightly, trying to appear put out. I roll my eyes, and he laughs.
“If you must know,” I say in my most hoity-toity voice. “I was in the Hamptons.”
“Girl!” He grins and looks like he’s about to pump a fist. I didn’t realize he was so invested in my love life.
Then he looks me over. “I thought you looked extra glowy when you walked in.” He waves his hand in a sweeping arc, indicating all of me.
I lace my fingers. “Can I have my plant, please?”
He glances over his shoulder at the sad jade plant. “You can have her once I get her fixed up.”
“I was thinking a small one.” Where on earth am I going to put something almost as big as me? I don’t know why I’m trying to figure that out. Simon’s probably already got a spot in my apartment picked out. He comes over several times a month to make sure all my plant babies are happy and healthy. He’s their grand-human.
“You’ll take what I give you, sis.”
We burst out laughing. It’s a weird arrangement, I know. But it works for us. He treats me like a regular, average Jane. And in my world, that’s rare.
“Fine. Bring her over when she’s healthy.”
He nods. “Enjoy your brunch.” He lifts a hand to Roman. “Nice meeting you!”