Caught Up in Us (11 page)

“But what if you were to try the
next thing after rose gold?”

“What would that be?”

I flashed back to the
Impressionist art I loved so much, to the way the painters played
with light and shadow to show different times of day. “What if it
were possible to make a sort of sunset gold? Or morning light gold?
Rose gold is basically just a tinting. Maybe the same could be done
with your tie clips and money holders, but the gold almost looks as
if it’s reflecting the time of day.”

She nodded appreciatively. “Damn,
girl. I like that idea.”

I also spent time with the
operational team. I’d weighed in on some challenges with suppliers
they were facing, suggesting strategies to spur along some of the
more difficult ones. John Walker, head of operations, had even
implemented some of my ideas. But a new wrinkle in the supply chain
woes emerged later that week.

“The Silversmith in Brooklyn said
they’re not going to be able to meet the timeline with bike chain
parts,” John said during a meeting. “We need to come up with a
replacement within a week.”

Bryan’s features tightened and he
rubbed his hand over his chin. His green eyes were hard and
intense. He didn’t look at me once, and that was fine with
me.

The meeting continued on like that
for another hour, and when it ended without a clear resolution from
anyone, Bryan said he was going for run. I took that as a cue to
leave. Besides, I needed time and space away to try to research
possible replacements for Silversmith. I stopped in the temporary
office to grab my bag, and then headed for the elevator banks. I
sucked in a breath when I saw Bryan there, wearing a gray tee-shirt
and running shorts. He pressed the down button.

“Hey.” His jaw was still tight.
The stress of the meeting and the supply complications was taking
its toll.

“Going for a run?” I said, then
wanted to kick myself. Not only was it patently obvious he was
about to exercise, he’d also announced it.

“Running helps me think. I swear I
do my best problem solving on the trails and bike
paths.”

“I find I do a great job keeping
track of how much I never want to run again when I’m
running.”

Bryan’s features softened and I
saw the sliver of a smile form. “That’s right. You’re all about
walking.”

The elevator arrived and he held
out his hand. I stepped in first and stood in the opposite corner.
“I’ve been known to traverse the city on foot. I dare anyone to
take me on in a walkathon.”

“Quite a dare. I’d love to take
you on.”

I looked away.

He drummed his fingers against the
elevator bar as the car descended. “So does walking help you think?
What do you do to blow off steam or escape or whatever?”

“I go to the movies.”

The elevator reached the first
floor. As the door opened, he said my name in that smoky voice.
“Kat.”

There was a pang of remorse in his
tone. Instinctively, I took a step closer, all my self-preservation
falling away.

“What is it?” I asked
softly.

“Nothing.” He was ice again. He
repeated the word as he walked out of his building, and started
running the second he hit the sidewalk.

*****

The cinema around the corner was
showing the newest Emma Stone movie, but I couldn’t stomach romance
now. I bought a ticket for a Ryan Gosling action flick. I needed
improbable car chases and ridiculously implausible getaways. I
slinked down into a seat in the back, leaving the looming pile of
homework, necklace orders and the supply chain issues untouched for
the next two hours.

There were only a few other people
in the theater for the mid-afternoon showing on a Thursday. Some
solo movie goers had snagged seats near the front, and there were
two pairs of friends in the middle rows. Maybe they were blowing
off steam too.

As the hero hacked into a laptop,
an idea flashed before me. I’d once made a custom necklace for a
computer programmer-turned-bestselling author and had scoured the
city for the charms she wanted — floppy disks and motherboards I
cut down to size. The vendor I’d hooked up with had started
expanding into other recycled materials, including old tires and
worn-out bike chains.

I made a mental note to track down
the name later, and then returned my focus to the
screen.

When Ryan Gosling scaled an
impossibly high ledge, I caught a flicker of movement at the back
of the theater. I turned to look, and I froze when I saw Bryan. He
was still in his workout clothes, and even in the dark I could see
the slight sheen of sweat on his brow and his tee-shirt. He scanned
the aisles, and when he spotted me, he didn’t look happy. His jaw
was tense again as he walked across the aisle. His eyes were lined
with anger, and his fists were clenched. He sat down, turned to me,
and placed a hand on my cheek so I was looking at him.

“You’re making me crazy,” he
whispered in a hard voice.

“I am? Why?”

“You act like nothing
happened.”

“What are you talking
about?”

“How can you just be like this?
Like it was nothing what happened?”

“How can
you?”

“I called you that day. I emailed
you that afternoon. You totally blew me off, and I’ve been looking
for every chance to talk to you.”

“You haven’t been trying that
hard.”

“Bullshit, Kat. I’ve tried to talk
to you every time you’ve been by and you know it.”

One of the guys a few rows ahead
turned around and gave us a dirty look as Ryan Gosling smashed open
a door with his elbow.

Bryan lowered his voice further.
“Do you have any idea what I’m going through at work?”

“No. Why would I?”

The guy looked back again. “Keep
it down, okay?”

I tipped my forehead to the exit.
Bryan took me by the elbow and guided us out. As the door to the
theater swung shut, we were alone in the dark hallway.

“I’m doing
everything to keep it quiet, and you can’t say a word. Promise me
you won’t say a word.” His voice was laced with equal parts stress
and fear.

“I promise.” I
wanted to reach out and run a hand gently over his cheek. He seemed
to need it, but I kept my hands to myself.

He took a deep breath. “Wilco is
suing us for wrongful termination. That’s what went down the day I
had to take that board call at the factory. We learned he was
suing. It’s totally ridiculous because he was in the wrong. He
crossed every line imaginable with the intern. But the board is
pissed, and I’m pissed, and I can’t take a chance. The guy’s
unhinged, Kat. He calls me at my home and hangs up. Does the same
to Nicole too, and she’s also seen him skulking around near our
offices. I thought I knew the guy. I thought I knew what to expect,
but now everything has changed. And on top of that, my board is
incredibly conservative and I have to do everything properly. I
can’t have a trace of anything that isn’t 100 percent professional.
Which makes it really incredibly difficult when all I want to do is
finish what we started.”

Everything inside of me turned
hot. “You do?”

“I have not been able to stop
thinking about that afternoon. I have not been able to stop
thinking about you.”

My heart leapt into my throat.
“Really?”

He moved closer. He was so
dizzyingly near to me it was as if every nerve ending in my body
was exposed. The possibility that this wasn’t one-sided made me
deliriously giddy. That it was more than just a romp on the couch
in his office.

“I think about
you all the time. I think about how beautiful you are and how smart
you are and how funny you are, and how I want nothing more than to
take you out to the movies, and hold your hand and laugh at the
same time. Or not even at the same time. To laugh at different
things. To learn more about what you think is funny. Like, I don’t
even know if you think it’s funny when people fall down stairs. Do
you like pratfalls?”

His eyes were sparkling and
playful.

I grinned so wide my face would
hurt, but I didn’t think I could feel anything except happiness
right now. “I love pratfalls. I love non-sequitur humor, and I love
dark humor, and I especially love stupid humor. I laugh when I see
videos of guys being pushed down hill in shopping carts, and when
they slip in their socks and fall down stairs. Well, as long as
they don’t really get hurt.”

“Of course not. You’re not a jerk.
You just appreciate good physical comedy.”

“That I do. And
what about you? What do you laugh at? I mean, besides Bucky
from Get Fuzzy
.”

“Ah, she remembers.”

“Of course I remember.” I punched
him in the arm, and even though I wanted him to touch me all over,
it meant so much more to me that he wanted to talk. That he wanted
to know me. How I’d changed. How I hadn’t changed.

“I remember everything too,” he
said softly, and I felt a ribbon of heat rush through my body. “To
answer your question. Cartoon cats are still a yes. I’m almost
embarrassed to admit this, but I like those silly Internet pictures
with dogs saying ridiculous things. I mean, not really saying
ridiculous things. Just captions. Like this one husky dog, and
there was a caption that said ‘Oh you ran a marathon. How heavy was
the sled?’”

“I saw that one too. I loved it.
So did my roommate because she’s run five marathons.”

“That’s impressive. And I like
late-night talk shows. I like politics, so I especially enjoy
political humor and the late-night guys are the best.”

“What about movies? What are your
favorite movies?”

“Well just in
case the guys committee is listening I’ll tell you
The Fast and The Furious
. Or
The Hangover
.” Then he lowered his voice and whispered. “But I’ll admit
to you, only you, that it’s actually
Casablanca
.”

Pinch me now, I
thought. Wake me up from this dream. Because right then, I closed
my eyes and watched that perfect film unfurl in front of me, a
romance that left you breathless no matter how many times you’d
seen it. I could feel myself sinking into that heady state, like I
was under a spell, transfixed, and I could touch the scenes, feel
every sensation the characters felt zip through me.
They’d always have Paris
.

I felt wobbly, and I swayed toward
him. He caught me, and wrapped his arms around me, tucking me close
to him. He pressed his chin against my head. “Kat.”

I melted into him, savoring the
feel of his chest, even under his sweaty tee-shirt, against me.
Here with him, I didn’t have a care in the world. Even though being
with him was the riskiest thing in the world. I closed my eyes and
flashed back to my parents, to the store, to my plans. Then to
Professor Oliver, and his wife, and my business. Everything else
was so much more important than a mere feeling. I knew that. I
really did. But yet, I didn’t want anything more in my life right
now than this moment, this closeness, this man.

“I’m dying to kiss you. I want to
take you out to dinner, and walk around the city, and talk about
anything and everything.”

I could barely feel myself
anymore. My whole body was edgy, floating. This couldn’t be
happening. But it was. I felt light-headed, like I’d just taken a
painkiller and gotten that warm flush where it kicks in and spreads
throughout your chest and belly. The little hairs on my arms were
standing on end.

“But I can’t,” he said.

“Why?”

“I can’t risk it. The Wilco
thing…”

“But she was a high school
student. Wasn’t she seventeen?”

“Yeah, but still. He’s hunting out
dirt. He’s hunting out anything right now.”

“I’m twenty-three. I’m not an
intern. I’m just a…”

“A protege. At a school where we
endowed the new wing of the library. It’s too close. No one has
said anything to me, but this is my choice. This is how I have to
be. I have to be above reproach. I don’t want anything to look bad
for Made Here, and I don’t want anything to look bad for the
school. That’s why I couldn’t even email you anymore. I can’t have
a trace of impropriety.”

I half wanted to add that I had to
be a good girl too, but what was the point? I didn’t need to dole
out my stakes as well. There needn’t be any one
upsmanship.

I nodded into his chest. I didn’t
like these rules, but I understood them.

He placed a hand under my chin and
lifted my face so I was looking at him. His lips were so close to
me. “But maybe I can call you?”

“Of course.”

“Can I call you
tonight?”

I was a pinball machine, buzzing
and humming, saying yes, yes, yes. Then I remembered the name of
the vendor.