Chapter 11
KAITLYN
Maurice returned a short while later, shouting at Anna-Marie and at anyone else who got in his way.
The painting, if it could be called that, was ruined, and the exhibition was to be a disaster.
The name of Julia Wainwright was cursed, and there was even talk of suing for emotional and psychological damage.
“I feel as though she’s smudged my very soul. Art isn’t just paint; it’s a feeling. It’s a violation!” he’d exclaimed, sitting by the painting and weeping as Anna-Marie stood awkwardly next to him, holding a box of tissues.
Kaitlyn had envisaged a happy collective, like the one she’d seen the previous day, with artists collaborating and sharing inspiration.
But one bad apple had soured the rest. No one was speaking, and the atmosphere was hushed and tense.
Kaitlyn didn’t dare make a noise, trying to open her boxes of materials as quietly as possible.
It was a shame, for she’d been looking forward to getting started, and Maurice’s outburst had put a dampener on the day.
Having lined up her commissions in order of priority, Kaitlyn’s mind turned to the projects she might begin when her paid work was over.
She had it in mind to create a sculpture for the wedding: two figures, as though rising out of the ocean, embracing one another, but which could be taken apart and put back together as a symbol of two people joined in love and marriage.
It would be a surprise for Alex, one they could display in the apartment.
But I’ll never be able to do it if this is what it’s going to be like.
Maurice’s painting had now been tossed on the floor, discarded and pronounced as worthless.
Kaitlyn hadn’t thought much of it to begin with — anyone could squirt paint at a canvas — but no doubt there was some deep metaphysical meaning behind it, one that would require a detailed explanation.
For her part, Kaitlyn didn’t like to complicate her art.
It was as it was, inspired by the sea. But in New York, close as they were to the sea, she didn’t yet feel any kind of connection to inspiration.
In California, there were hundreds of miles of sandy beaches to explore.
Kaitlyn would take a bus out on a weekend, staying in one of the little artists’ towns on the coast, and taking long walks in the dunes, watching the colors change in the sky and across the sea.
Maybe a collective wasn’t such a good idea after all.
Having finished unpacking and with Maurice still sobbing, Kaitlyn decided it was time to leave.
She felt disappointed. She’d been looking forward to creating something, to letting her inspiration take over, and yet the studio now felt unwelcoming.
No one else had come to say “hi,” and there was no one there she recognized from the previous day.
It was obviously the sort of place where people came and went, and Kaitlyn reminded herself she could do the same if she wanted.
I’ll find somewhere, I’m sure.
She said goodbye to Anna-Marie and left the studio, walking back toward the subway and wondering what the evening would hold.
She didn’t know when Alex would be back or what was expected of her now.
She could do as she wanted, of course; there were no restrictions.
And yet she’d half-expected him to be in touch with plans.
She wasn’t expecting another evening at Gill’s — twenty courses had proved more formidable than she’d thought, even if each plate was just a mouthful — but it would surely be nice to do something together.
We could go to the movies or get takeout. Didn’t Alex say something about a Korean place?
Back at the apartment, she found the whole place had been cleaned from top to bottom.
The bed was freshly made, new towels were on the rack, and the mess on the coffee machine was gone.
It was immaculate. She’d been planning to do it herself and felt guilty at the thought of someone else having cleaned up after her.
Sitting down in front of the television, she checked her phone.
There was still no word from Alex. It was past five o’clock.
What time did he finish? Kaitlyn hadn’t eaten since the morning, and her stomach was rumbling.
There was nothing in the apartment apart from some protein shakes, and Kaitlyn wondered what was best to do.
I don’t want to order something he doesn’t like. Or let it get cold.
She realized she didn’t have a clue where to actually order from or how getting it to the apartment would work.
She thought about messaging Alex, but if he was working, he wouldn’t want to be disturbed with trivial questions.
She’d spent the whole day amid the hustle and bustle of the city, but she hadn’t had a proper conversation, a real interaction.
Back in Cedarhurst, there was always someone to talk to, someone she knew, even casually.
Reluctantly, she pressed the intercom, and a moment later, the phone rang.
“Hello?” she asked, feeling slightly nervous.
“Good evening, ma’am. Brett here. How can I help you?” the voice of the butler replied.
Kaitlyn felt embarrassed. She’d never even ordered room service before, let alone asked her personal butler for takeout suggestions.
“Um… I was just wondering… if you knew when I might expect Alex back? I’m just thinking about ordering food in, but I don’t want to waste it if he’ll be back late,” she said, imagining the butler rolling his eyes as she was speaking.
“Mr. Lancaster usually arrives home by nine o’clock. I have his schedule here. He doesn’t have a client dinner this evening. But if you’d like to place an order, I’ll deal with that, and Mr. Lancaster can choose later on.”
“Two deliveries?” Kaitlyn replied.
“It’s no trouble, ma’am,” Brett said.
“Well, if that’s the case, I’d like… Korean food,” she said, not really knowing what specifically.
“I’ll bring up some menus immediately. Just let me know what you’d like. It can be here within twenty minutes.”
A moment later, the elevator bell rang, and Kaitlyn went to answer it, finding the butler standing in front of her. He was a lot younger than Kaitlyn had imagined him to be, dressed immaculately in a blue suit with a matching tie and a white shirt.
“Oh, thank you,” she said as he handed her four different menus.
“Might I recommend Coco-Kwang? It’s Mr. Lancaster’s favorite. The kimchi fried rice is very good,” he said.
Kaitlyn smiled and nodded, taking the menus and wondering if she was supposed to tip him or invite him to wait. “Shall I… phone down when I’ve decided?” she asked.
“I’ll be waiting,” he replied with a curt bow, and the elevator doors glided shut.
Kaitlyn chose seafood pancakes, the kimchi rice, and chicken dumplings. It arrived as quickly as Brett had promised it would, though rather than a plastic bag and Styrofoam cartons, Brett delivered it on a tray with plates and cutlery.
“Oh, you didn’t need to do that,” Kaitlyn said, for she’d been hunting through the drawers for chopsticks and had finally found a pair in the utensils drawer.
“I took the liberty of bringing up a bottle of cola, too,” Brett replied as he set the tray down in front of the television.
It was like no other takeout Kaitlyn had had before.
Kaitlyn had hoped for a lazy night in front of the television with Alex, like in high school days when they’d gone to the drive-thru and watched horror movies in her mom’s front room, scaring themselves silly.
But here she was, sitting with a tray laid out like some fine dining restaurant, alone.
“Thank you,” Kaitlyn said. It wasn’t Brett’s fault. He was just doing his job.
The butler left, and Kaitlyn sighed. It was almost nine o’clock.
Was Alex ever going to come home? He’d probably have eaten.
She poured herself a glass of cola and flicked through the channels.
There was nothing she wanted to watch, and, turning off the TV, she toyed with the pancakes, not really feeling hungry.
Was this it? Were their days to be lived like ships passing in the night?
It was almost ten o’clock when the doors of the elevator slid open, and Alex appeared.
He was holding an enormous bunch of roses that obscured his face, just like on prom night.
“I’m sorry I’m late. There was just so much to catch up on,” he said, coming over and kissing her.
The roses had a sweet perfume to them, heady and overpowering. Kaitlyn smiled.
“It’s all right,” she lied. She could hardly say differently.
He flopped down on the couch next to her, reaching out and taking one of the chicken dumplings from her plate. “I’m glad you got takeout. Did Brett order for you?”
Kaitlyn nodded. “He did everything,” she replied.
“Good,” Alex said, seeming not to notice the hint of exasperation in her voice. “I’ve already eaten. There was a last-minute meeting with a client. It went on for hours. These people think that because they’re investing, they own you. It’s only ten million dollars. But the deal’s done, and…”
His phone rang, and he rose from the couch to answer, spending the next twenty minutes in the lobby shouting at someone who seemed to be doing everything wrong.
Kaitlyn was no longer hungry. She put the tray to one side and yawned.
It felt like a wasted day. She’d done things, but nothing had been accomplished.
It was as though she’d just been waiting for something to happen, for Alex to come home.
“I went to the collective today,” she said when he eventually returned.
“How was it? Did you meet some interesting people?” He was scrolling on his phone, distracted by something, even as she was talking.
“Sort of… They were a bit standoffish. There was a man called Maurice there. He’d accused some woman of smudging a piece of his work, of sabotaging it.”
“I suppose artists can be highly strung,” Alex replied, still scrolling on his phone.
Kaitlyn nodded. She knew he wasn’t listening to her. It was as though he was still at the office, still consumed by work. It was a big contrast to the night before, when his entire attention had seemed to be on her.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Kaitlyn ventured. “I found this lovely little café nearby. We could get a coffee there. You could show me a few New York sights.”
Alex looked up from his phone and shook his head. “I’m sorry. I have meetings all day tomorrow.”
“But it’s Saturday,” Kaitlyn replied. She thought he’d at least have taken the weekend off. Surely the rest of the company did.
“I know, but I was away all last week, and I have so much to catch up on. Hilary’s going to be in the office, too. We’ll make as much progress as we can with things. I might be able to get away by five, perhaps,” he said.
“What am I supposed to do?” Kaitlyn replied.
She didn’t mean to sound harsh, but it was yet another day on her own in a big city where she didn’t know anyone.
He’d brought her to New York. He’d wanted her to pack up and leave everything on a promise, the promise of his company.
If they were going to be married, this couldn’t be how things were.
It had only been a day, of course, but in Alex’s behavior, Kaitlyn was seeing something of the past. Were they going to drift apart, just as they’d done before?
He looked at her in surprise. “You’re in New York. You can do anything you like,” he said.
Kaitlyn nodded. He was right, of course. She could do anything. New York was a city of possibilities. But it was him she wanted. He was the reason she was there, and without him, it seemed… pointless.
“I think I’ll go to bed,” she said, setting aside her tray as Alex’s phone buzzed again.
“I won’t be long,” he replied.
Lying in bed, Kaitlyn listened to Alex talking on the phone — more business, more deals, more profit. When he eventually came to bed, he was still looking at his phone, even as he lay next to her.
She rolled over and rested her head on his shoulder. “Let’s have dinner together tomorrow,” she said. “I’ve missed you.”
He put his phone down and turned to her, smiling, as he brushed the hair from her cheek. “I miss you, too. I’m sorry it’s been a busy day. I just need to catch up on a few things. It’s not always like this. I promise,” he said.
Kaitlyn felt guilty for getting annoyed. He’d worked hard to get where he was, starting from nothing. It meant a lot to him, and it had only been one day.
“It’s all right… I’m sorry if I sounded a bit harsh earlier on,” she replied.
He leaned forward and kissed her. “I just want you to be happy, that’s all,” he said as their lips parted.
Kaitlyn nodded. She was happy. It was going to take some getting used to, that was all.
Resting her head on his shoulder again, she closed her eyes.
It was comforting to have him there, that familiar presence from the past now brought into the present.
She was drifting off to sleep when his phone buzzed. Was this how it was always going to be?