Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
SHE’D TAKEN LONGER THAN the allotted ninety minutes, unintentionally.
She truly hadn’t meant to, but she loved this city, and for the first time, she was able to step out and explore it without a looming fear of either poverty or deportation hanging over her head.
She was able to walk amongst the streets and marvel at the windows and people, the frenetic pace of life, the trees changing colour, and soak it all in.
She ventured into the park without really meaning to, and watched a bit of a baseball game being played by two social teams, then meandered over a stunning bridge and towards a diner on the edges that sold the biggest sandwiches she’d ever seen.
She ordered one, even though she wasn’t particularly hungry, and took a seat at the window so she could keep watching and enjoying.
And in the back of her mind was the morning she and Roman had shared, and the evening that surely lay ahead of them, and she felt as though she were being pulled in a million different directions.
Desire was making her heart race, fast and harried like the people bustling past the window, and yet that self-protective muscle was flexing once more, reminding her to be careful, to never forget that this was still something she’d be walking away from, like any other guy she hooked up with.
She couldn’t let herself want more, couldn’t let herself need him, like she’d needed foster parents, once upon a time, and been repeatedly let down. Disappointed and hurt.
She didn’t finish the sandwich; she couldn’t possibly, but she did her best, and sat for a long time in the cosy warmth of the diner, before her phone pinged and she saw a text from Garrett.
You’re late.
She glanced at the time and let out a yelp of surprise.
Whoops.
You promised.
I’m on my way.
He did a thumbs up emoji and she slid out of the booth, wiping her hands on a napkin and cutting towards the door.
She walked back as quickly as she could, but she’d covered a lot of ground and her ankle had started to hurt from being pushed so far.
She tried not to think about what Roman would say; it wasn’t his business, really, anyway.
She was her own person; if she wanted to walk all the way to Wall Street and destroy her ankle in the process, then so what?
She wasn’t afraid of Roman. He’d be pissed, sure, but she was more concerned that he might take it out on Garrett.
She kept her pace up, until she finally reached the recognisably grand entrance of Roman’s building, her breath bursting through her lungs as she stared at it for a moment, trying to imagine actually living like this before she smiled at the doormen and swept inside, out of the blustery afternoon.
In the end, she needn’t have rushed. She swiped the key for the elevator and when the doors pinged open a moment later, it revealed two people already inside.
Roman, and Tia, side by side, looking like a jarringly beautiful and expensive couple, her in a beige trench coat cinched at her narrow waist and him in the dark suit she’d fisted desperately only hours earlier.
“Kate.” Roman’s eyes swept over her, and she hated to think how she must appear in comparison to the polished Tia, in her jeans and sweater, her hair undoubtedly a mess courtesy of the wind she’d been traversing.
“You’ve been out.” His lips compressed, his words suggesting this was something they’d come back to in due course.
“Yes,” she smiled sweetly, eyes challenging him. “Is that a problem?”
His gaze held hers for a long time, and the doors began to close, so Roman stepped forward, pressing his hand towards them impatiently, his big body that bit closer to hers so her senses went into overdrive.
When she stared up at him now, it was with a cloying sense of hunger she feared she could no longer fight.
His own attention fell to her lips, his stare lingering there, doing nothing for her hammering pulse. “Are you coming?”
She tilted her head, pretending to think about it, and just barely caught his muffled curse.
“Or do I need to carry you?”
She thought of her throbbing ankle and wondered what he’d say if she admitted as much. Nothing good. She took a step in, their bodies brushing as she moved past him.
“You remember Tia?” Roman said, moving back into the lift and turning to face Kate properly. The doors swooshed closed and the lift began to accelerate upwards.
“Of course. Nice to see you again,” Kate lied. Not that she had anything against the other woman, except a raging case of jealousy and a sense of bad timing.
“And you.” Tia sounded as sincere as Kate.
The elevator pounded with silence as they rode up, throbbing and twisting until the doors opened into Roman’s apartment, where Garrett was standing, arms crossed, legs hip-width apart.
“Garrett?” Roman said, stepping off.
“I can explain,” he muttered, glaring at Kate mutinously.
Roman looked from one to the other. “No need. I’m well aware of her stubborn side.”
“Her?” Kate spluttered.
“And her stupid disregard for her wellbeing.”
Kate balled her hands into fists by her side and beside Roman, Tia laughed.
“Careful, Roh. This one’s a fighter.”
Kate didn’t even smile as she looked at her; Tia was right. She was a fighter. “Damn straight.”
Roman held his hands up. “Garrett, it’s fine. This is between Kate and me.”
Garrett put a hand on Roman’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry, man.”
Their eyes held and Kate stood still, the words seeming somehow important. Not today. Garrett had said that this morning, as though this day held a particular significance, but Kate had been too busy wrangling her disappointment into line to process that.
She frowned as Garrett left, watching him all the way to the lift before turning back to Roman.
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him what was going on but the look he threw her was pure…
something. Emotion. It seemed to bounce from him to her, barely contained, and then Tia was moving, sashaying elegantly towards the fridge and removing an expensive bottle of champagne.
“We’re getting drunk, if you’d care to join us?” she offered, over her shoulder.
We’re. Us.
Kate heard the words for what they were; a claim. A circle, which she sat on the outside of.
Roman was still staring at Kate, his attention laser focused, and she wondered what he was thinking and decided she didn’t give a damn. “Sounds like a plan.”
Tia’s smile seemed genuine enough. “Excellent.” When she looked at Roman, it was with obvious teasing in the depths of her eyes. “Any issues with that?”
Roman was practically seething but in their desire to provoke him, Kate and Tia had become sudden, unexpected allies.
He waved a hand in the air, which wasn’t exactly an answer, but Tia hadn’t waited in any case. She poured three glasses and slid one to Kate.
“To family,” she said, thickly, and just like that, the alliance seemed to crumble.
It was hurtful on so many levels…exclusionary to Kate—definitely intended—and a sharp reminder of what she didn’t have—likely unintended, for how could Tia have known that her toast was driving a stake into Kate’s lonely and isolated heart?
Tia replaced her glass a little steadily, Roman held his without taking a drink. His eyes were resting on Kate; she felt them in the fibres of her spine but didn’t react.
“How was your meeting?” she asked instead, the hint of a challenge in her voice. Because he’d told her he had a meeting—and maybe he had. But at some point, that meeting had devolved into a drinking session with Tia and it was hard not to hate that.
“Fine.” His answer was abrupt, telling her nothing. “Where have you been?” The question was casual enough, lacking accusation. The sort of question any person might ask another. But Kate knew what was at the base of it. His protective—over protective—instincts. His obsessive need to keep her safe.
“Oh, you know, around,” she answered noncommittally, taking advantage of a moment of Roman’s distraction, when he briefly turned to place his glass on the counter, and hobbling across to the sofa to sit down.
Her throbbing ankle practically exclaimed in gratitude.
She lifted it up surreptitiously, curving a palm around it in a futile attempt to stem the pain.
“Really, Roman, you’re so overbearing,” Tia said, rolling her eyes. Apparently they were allies again. She grabbed the champagne bottle by the neck and brought it with her, across the room, and took a seat on the sofa near enough to Kate to chat easily.
“Tell me about yourself.”
Kate laughed softly.
“Something funny about that?” Tia asked, her eyes narrowing.
“It’s only—you’re the second person today to remind me of Roman,” she apologised, sipping her drink.
Tia relaxed visibly, smiled, her lipstick utterly flawless, as though she’d just applied it. Well, at least she probably hadn’t been kissing Roman before the lift arrived.
Kate sat up straighter, pushing the thought from her mind.
“We’re cut from the same cloth,” Tia shrugged, her eyes following Roman across the spacious lounge.
Kate felt the moment he connected with the sofa, because he chose the seat right beside hers, one long arm stretched along the back of the seat behind her, so that if she relaxed back, they’d be touching.
She sat up straighter.
“I understand you’re very good at what you do,” Kate said, simply to make conversation.
“And what do you think that is?”
“Real estate,” Kate responded. “You sell properties.”
“No,” Tia tilted her head to the side, still studying Kate as though she were a book. “I let people accept their dreams.”
Kate almost choked on her champagne. “I’m sorry?”
“I show them the fantasy then tell them why they deserve it. I match people to the property they never thought they could have—and rattle the keys right in their faces.”