8. Natalie #2
Natalie’s eyes fell closed, and she took a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just remember you’re way ahead of schedule. Everything’s on track.”
Natalie pulled her hair from its bun and scratched her scalp as she scanned her notes. “You think Pop suspects anything? Something felt off when I talked to him yesterday.”
“No way. Your plan for our dinner the night before the showcase covers any suspicions. He won’t see it coming. And I’m in charge of said dinner, remember? That’s my event to stress over. Take it off your radar.”
“That’s not how my radar works.”
Kate laughed. “Oh, I know, my darling little control freak. And stop obsessing over the mini gifts. I kinda wish I hadn’t suggested it now. It was meant to be fun.”
“Are you kidding? This is the most fun I’ve had in forever. Seventy mini-gifts for his seventieth birthday? It’s your best idea yet. I’m low-key jealous I didn’t think of it. Today’s haul brings me to twenty-six gifts.”
“That puts you way ahead of me. I haven’t bought anything since the glow-in-the-dark yo-yo.”
Natalie’s voice shot up. “Kate! That was two weeks ago. I’m not picking up the slack for you. I’m only buying and wrapping my thirty-five gifts.”
“I’m not asking you to!” Kate fired back.
“Well get your ass in gear, girlie. Three months will fly by, and I don’t want you scrambling at the last minute because this is the last minute.”
“My ass happens to be a full-time art professor, sculpting Dad’s main gift with my own two hands.”
Kate’s working just as hard as you are to make this birthday showcase weekend a success. Stop being the event planning version of Bridezilla.
Natalie softened her tone. “How's it coming? I meant to ask you about it earlier."
"Worked on it today. Smoothing out seams and imperfections. I promise it’ll be ready on time."
“And still no sneak peek?”
“Nope. You get to be surprised with Pop. But—small brag—it’s one of the best pieces I’ve ever made.”
Natalie’s gaze landed on a framed photo on her dresser, the inspiration for Kate’s sculpture. The three of them running through a field of wildflowers, Pop holding their hands. Ages nine and four. An enlarged version of the same photo hung in their father’s home office.
"Pop’s going to lose his mind. I will too. Better stock up on Kleenex.”
They reviewed menus for each celebration.
Kate’s family dinner would be chateaubriand—Mom’s tried and true recipe—with all Pop’s favorites on the side.
Her signature brown-butter carrot cake for dessert.
For the surprise party, a Creole feast of the venue’s most popular dishes.
Eggs Benedict. Crab cakes. Sweet Tea-Smoked Chicken. Shrimp and Grits.
“I’m going to weigh a thousand pounds after all this,” Kate groaned.
“You can more than afford it,” Natalie muttered, jotting more notes.
“When do invitations go out again?”
“Six weeks. Noah is still tracking down a few addresses.”
Kate smiled. “How is precious Noah?”
“He’s great. Still the best assistant ever. I wish I didn’t have to share him with two other designers. I’m seriously considering bending the women-only rule for Natalie & Co for staff. I’d love to—”
A loud bark cut her off. Roscoe, Kate’s Australian Shepherd, jumped into frame. It took several stern commands before the dog settled.
“I need to get this obnoxious boy walked and then jump in the shower. Can we finish tomorrow?”
Natalie snapped her notebook shut. “Of course. Big plans?”
“I’m going with Cookie to one of his gallery events. He’s been hounding me for months to do a showing of my own work, but that’s not the real reason he wants me there.”
“Then why?”
“This event is huge—like, three hundred plus invites—and he’s dying for me to put myself back in circulation.”
Natalie’s gaze slid to another frame: Kate and her late husband, Malcolm. Their last Christmas. Smiling through the pain. Three years gone, and Kate still guarded.
“And how do you feel about … circulating?” Natalie asked in a gentle tone.
Kate nuzzled the dog. “I don’t know. Part of me agrees with him. Part of me feels like it’s too soon.”
“It wasn’t that long ago you told me that when the time is right, the perfect guy will appear. I think you should open yourself up to the possibility. Just see what happens.”
“Are you using my own Big Sister logic against me?”
Natalie laughed. “Absolutely. But seriously—someone special is out there. You’re going to fall in love again, and I can’t wait to watch it unfold.”
Her eyes drifted to the dried gardenia bloom in a silver frame on her nightstand. And hopefully, one day, when Natalie & Co is up and running, it’ll happen for me …
Her thoughts were interrupted by an incoming call. Her pulse jumped when she recognized the number.
Be calm. Be professional. You’ve got this.
“Kate, I’ve gotta take this. Love you. Have fun tonight.”
Natalie switched calls before Kate could respond.
“Natalie Powell,” she answered brightly.
“Hi, Ms. Powell, it’s Hannah Hunt, from Nashville Now magazine. How are you?”
Natalie snatched her notebook and flipped pages with jittery fingers. “I’m great. How are you?”
“I’m well, and I need to apologize. Your initial email slipped through the cracks. Thanks for following up.”
“No problem at all. It happens.”
“I’m very interested in covering your showcase. Based on what you sent, it sounds like quite the event. Do you have a few minutes to chat?”
“Absolutely.”
Natalie smiled and crossed off another item on her list.