Erica Lucke Dean - To Katie with Love (20 page)

JUST WHEN I THOUGHT THINGS COULDN’T GET ANY WORSE

I
pulled into my usual parking spot with a sigh. It was Thursday, and the last one had nearly been my undoing in so many ways. Just one week ago, I had been plagued with suspicion, cabernet, and inoperable cell phones.

Not anymore. I needed to get caught up on all the work I had been ignoring. Cooper and I had settled into a lovely new existence as a couple. I wasn’t going to worry about his job. I still had no idea what it was, but I wasn’t going to worry about him being an assassin. And I wasn’t going to fret over him finding out I had been snooping around. I would just pretend it never happened.

I had no idea how I got myself into such situations, but I’d finally managed to extricate myself from my own tangled web without any lingering effects. That was refreshing.

I got quite a bit done in my first hour. No one bothered me all morning, and I even managed to sneak into the back for a quick snack. I wasn’t distracted at all. It was almost nice not having to worry about what Cooper was doing. I knew he was in his office, doing his mysterious job, while I was at the bank, doing mine.

Vicky stopped me as I made my way back from the break room. “Staring off into space again, Katie?”

“Just ignoring you,” I said with a grin. It was the gloomiest winter Atlanta had seen in years, but to me, everything was sunshine, and I wasn’t about to let Vicky spoil my day.

“Like you’ve been ignoring Dean? He’s in my office now. Did you know he got a part in a big show? He said he’d like to take me to New York with him this time.” She sounded like that kid who wanted everyone to be impressed with her toys.

Well, I wasn’t impressed. “That’s nice.”

“I’m telling you, Katie, that man is so hot. I swear, the first time I saw him, it
started to throb, and I got instantly wet.” She was on the verge of swooning at the memory.

“It?” I was almost afraid to ask.

She rolled her eyes. “
It
.” And pointed at her crotch.

“Ewww.”

She made a sour face back at me. “Did you figure out what Cooper does for his money yet?”

“He kills actors for a living.”

“Funny, Katie.”

I shrugged. “So how long have you been
seeing
Dean?” I asked with a smirk. I knew the only
seeing
she was doing was from a respectable distance.

“Just a few days.” She frowned. “And since you’re totally ignoring him today, he asked me to help him get his accounts in order. Thanks to you, they’re pretty messed up.” Vicky flipped her hair at me and turned to walk away.

Nope. Not even Vicky could ruin my morning. In fact, I was thrilled to see she’d moved on to a new pretend boyfriend, or first-round draft pick, as she called them.

Dean was my client, but of course, that had never stopped Vicky. And after the whole scene with Cooper, I was determined to completely avoid Dean. I honestly hadn’t noticed Vicky showing that much interest in him. But he
was
cute. I had no problem acknowledging that. Vicky definitely had a thing for the cute ones. I often wondered if her husband was even aware of the things she said and did.

Phil whipped around the corner and stopped me before I reached my office. “James, did you hear I won my poker tournament last night? Oh yeah. I am richer to the tune of seven hundred dollars.” He held up seven fingers and then made a circle two times with his thumb and finger. “I’m buying lunch for everyone.”

“That’s nice. Cooper has to work today, so I don’t have any lunch plans.”

“Good! You can choose anything you want from the dollar menu.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re so generous.”

“Yeah, I know.”

On my way back to my office, my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I checked the caller ID and cringed. My mother. Again. She was calling for the fifth time that morning, so I figured I might actually have to answer the phone. No, I needed coffee first. I doubled back to the break room and poured myself a cup of cream and added a splash of coffee and sugar to it.

I’d never really liked coffee that much. I was afraid I would need a double shot of Grand Marnier to work up the courage to talk to her.

I’d lost count of how many of her calls I’d ignored over the course of the week. I didn’t have the strength to listen to her tirade over my
fake
boyfriend. She was convinced I’d made Cooper up to throw her off my trail. It wasn’t a bad idea. I should have done it years ago. Maybe then she would believe me.

I traipsed into my office and let the door fall shut so I could call her without eavesdroppers, but Vicky poked her nose into my office as I dialed.

“Hey, Katie. You need to see this.” She motioned toward the lobby.

“I’ve got to make a call. What do you need?” I held the phone to my ear and waited.

“Oh, nothing really. CNN just announced that the two murders in Atlanta are directly connected to the one in New York. I thought you’d want to know,” she tossed in, letting the door fall closed as she left.

In the four rings it took for Mom to pick up, I didn’t have time to process the new information, and when she did answer, the connection was bad. She sounded as though she was in a wind tunnel.

“Katherine Grace James, where in the world have you been? I’ve been calling you for days with no response. It’s bad enough you don’t answer your phone, but could you possibly have the common decency to listen to your voicemail? If you
had
, I may have a lot of money in cab fare.”

I had no idea how listening to my voice mail would save my mother cab fare.
Or did I?

I suddenly had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, the same feeling I got when I ate something with mushrooms in it—that sudden urge to make a run for the bathroom. I was afraid to ask, but I had to know. “Mom? Where are you?”

She pulled the phone away from her mouth and asked, “Where exactly am I?” I heard someone speaking to her in the background, and then she said, “I am just a few miles from your bank. And when I get there…”

I stopped listening. She was still rattling on, but I couldn’t hear a word she said over the rushing sound building behind my ears. My mother was just a few miles away. From the bank. From
me
.
Shit! Shit! Shit!
I dropped my face into my hands and collapsed against the back of my chair.

To my mother, I had been nothing but a supreme disappointment—creeping ever closer to thirty and yet to find a single prospective husband. Mom thought if she could marry a doctor, her daughters could too. My dad was a plastic surgeon in Connecticut, which basically meant my mother lived off the tits and faces of rich women. I found that funny.

I was determined to choose a mate based on nothing but love. It was purely by accident Cooper met every prerequisite Mom had ever imagined for me. And she was coming to visit. She would want to meet Cooper.

The phone had gone dead in my hand, so I jumped from my chair and did a frantic search of my office. I wanted to be sure there was nothing sitting out that my mother would grasp onto as some pathetic commentary on my life. There were just a few potted vaginas, but I was certain she would be oblivious to the humor in that. Once I decided I was safe from her scrutiny, I bolted from my office and ran straight to Silvia’s.

“Silvia,” I hissed from her doorway.

She was on her cell phone, but she must have noticed the frantic look in my eyes because she held up a finger. “Listen, sweetie. I’ll have to call you back. Katie has some new catastrophe that needs my attention. I’ll see you in a bit.” Silvia ended her call and looked up at me with a bewildered expression. “What on God’s green earth has happened to you? I saw you this morning, and you looked absolutely elated. Now you look like you did the day you stapled your blouse to the copy machine.”

I glowered at her. “I didn’t staple myself to the copier. I got caught on the copier’s automatic stapler.”

“Only you, Katie. That’s all I have to say about that.” She shook her head, laughing.

“Will you please pay attention? My mother is on her way here.” I grabbed the long strand of pearls around my neck and wound them around my fingers, practically cutting off my circulation.

Silvia’s eyebrows shot up. “Right now?”

“As in, this minute.”

“Oh, this should be interesting.”

“It’s not funny.”

“Oh yes it is.” She put her hand over her mouth to hold back the fit of giggles.

“Gah!” I threw up my hands and left.
Does no one understand that Hurricane Grace is on her way to rain on my perfectly sunny day?

I managed to clue everyone in, so they were all huddled in the lobby waiting for the show to start. I was in my office, shooting off a text message to Cooper, the one I promised myself I would
not
send.

Katie: My mother is in town! Unannounced of course. She has come to inspect me with her own brand of sex radar. I may have to leave the country.

I sat on pins and needles until he texted me back less than thirty seconds later.

Cooper: I can have us on the next flight out! You aren’t leaving without me. I’ll pack the sunscreen. You bring the bikini.

I slid my phone across my desk, satisfied if things didn’t go well, I could call for Cooper and make my escape. I patted my cheeks, telling myself to relax. It was only my mother. I had known her my entire life. Unfortunately, that only made me more nervous.

A few minutes later, I heard a commotion in the lobby. I knew my mother had entered the building when the temperature dropped several degrees. Okay, that was an exaggeration. The sour tone of her voice drifting over was the giveaway.

“Hello, I’m Grace James. I’m looking for my daughter Katie.”

I poked my head out of my office and waved. “Hi, Mom.”

As usual, my mother looked striking. She was dressed in white wool from head to toe. I knew the outfit was designer, but I had no clue which one. The vanilla pantsuit was tailor-made for her tall, slender frame and perfectly matched to the long wool coat and brushed suede boots. The only color she wore was the rich velvet red on her lips.

I could’ve never pulled off that outfit. She was all grace and elegance, unlike me. And she was built like the stick-figure women I always feared were Cooper’s type. Even at her age, she was stunning. Except for the god-awful hat perched on her head like a dead pheasant dressed in silk.

I forced my eyes away from the taxidermist’s nightmare. “Mom, what are you doing here?”

“What kind of greeting is that?” She frowned. “Come give your mother a hug.” 

I knew what that meant. I walked over and, holding my breath to avoid the cloud of Poison that always accompanied her, kissed the air by her cheek, never actually touching her body with mine. She would not have appreciated me wrinkling her designer suit.

“It’s good to see you, Mom,” I said, forcing a cheery voice. “I wish I had known you were coming.”

She popped up one perfectly arched brow. She didn’t have to say a word for me to hear her loud and clear. Had I answered my phone or listened to my voice mail, I would have known.

Like a statue suddenly coming to life, Silvia reached a hand toward my mother. “So, Mrs. James, what brings you to town?”

My mother responded by pursing her lips, and Silvia let her hand fall.

“Yes, Mom. What brings you to town?”

She smirked. “Isn’t it obvious?”

I couldn’t resist. “You missed me?”

She waved off that ridiculous notion with a flick of one long, slender hand. “I wanted to see this
boyfriend
for myself.”

Amazing. She flew all that way to catch me in a lie. I was glad she didn’t ask to see my new cell phone. “Well, Mom, he isn’t here now. I
am
at work.”

“The way I heard it, he’s always at the bank.”

“Never on Thursday,” Vicky interjected from her spot behind Silvia.

“So he does exist then? Hmm.” She appeared to run that through her platinum-blond head. “But he never comes in on Thursday? What’s wrong with Thursday?”

“He’s
working
.” Vicky made the quotation marks in the air, and I fought the urge to slap the sarcastic look from her face.

Of course, my mother caught wind of a conspiracy and jumped right in with enthusiasm. “What exactly does he do?” She stared at me for a second, then looked back to Vicky for the answer.

I flashed a look of panic at Silvia, who nudged Vicky, but the words were already flying out of Vicky’s mouth. “That’s the two hundred thousand dollar question.”

Bitch! Bitch! Bitch!

My mother huffed. “Exactly what are you talking about?”

“He’s very private, Mom. He doesn’t talk about work very much.” 

“Very much? It doesn’t sound like he talks about work at all. Have you even asked him?”

“It’s really none of my business,” I muttered.

“None of your… that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. What if he’s into something
illegal
?” She whispered the word illegal, as if it was, well… illegal.

Vicky took a step closer to my mother, as if choosing sides for powderpuff football. “That’s
exactly
what I told her!”

That figured. My mother and Vicky were going to be the best of friends. I thought I might need that one-way ticket to Brazil after all.

I decided I’d better separate the two before they had a chance to compare notes, so I poked Vicky in the shoulder. “Don’t you have a client in your office?” Then, as Vicky scurried off with a scowl, I turned to my mother. “Mom, why don’t you come and sit down? You look tired.” I led her to my office.

“Well, it
was
a long flight.” She nodded. “And just a horrible ride from the airport. You know you really should move to someplace more accessible.”

That’s all I need… to be somewhere more accessible to my mother.
“I really like it here, Mom.”

I got Mom situated in the chair across from my desk and excused myself to get her a cup of coffee. Or as I liked to refer to it,
make a break for it
. No one was in the lobby, as if they’d scattered like rats on a sinking ship. I zipped around the corner to Silvia’s office and stuck my head part of the way in before I realized she wasn’t there. I scanned the lobby, but I couldn’t see her anywhere, so I cut through the back to see if she was in the break room.

“Where’s Silvia?” I asked June.

“No clue.” She smiled. “Your mom seems nice.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, thanks.”

I turned to run back to the lobby and remembered the coffee—my whole purpose for leaving her alone in my office. I quickly poured her a cup and added exactly three Sweet’n Lows and a heavy splash of non-fat creamer.

I walked slowly back, careful not to spill on my new pants. It was my first time wearing them, so it went without saying that something would get spilled on them.

Silvia was still nowhere to be found. I made it back safely and set the cup down on my desk. My mother was sifting through the stack of papers with her reading glasses perched at the end of her nose.

“Mom, you can’t read those. That’s confidential information.” I tried to sound assertive as I took them from her and placed them face-down out of her reach.

The smug expression on her face told me I had failed. She took off her glasses and folded them carefully in front of her. “Perhaps you shouldn’t leave such
confidential
information out on your desk then.” Her tone suggested I was five years old. “Oh, and you have a new text message.” She nodded toward my cell phone on the desk.