Katwalk (12 page)

“I do. Not that I know a lick about art, but I love it.”

“Well, consider it yours.” Katrina began to hand it to her, then pulled it back as she eyed Shana’s workout clothes. “Are you off to teach?” I can hold on to it for you.”

“Yep. Friday evenings I teach at six and again at seven thirty. You should come to a class sometime.”

Katrina stiffened. “I don’t know. I’m not very athletic. I can barely keep my balance on the stationary bike.”

Shana put a hand on Katrina’s arm. “That’s okay, a lot of people who come to my classes aren’t athletic. That’s why they do yoga, or at least the kind of yoga I teach. Come on, give it a try. I can get you in for free. I know it’s not much compared to that painting, but at least it’s something.”

Katrina hesitated. She wanted to go, but she had agreed to meet Reid for a drink in the Meatpacking District.

“How long is the class?”

“Just an hour.” She squeezed Katrina’s arm, her eyes bright. “Come on, it’ll be fun! I promise.”

“Do I have to wear special clothes?”

“Anything yo
u’d
wear to the gym is fine, as long as it’s not too loose. And I have an extra yoga mat you can borrow. But I’ve got to leave
now
, so if you’re going to come with me, we’ve got to get a move on.”

Katrina thought about it for another few seconds, then made a decision. “Okay, I’ll do it. Can you give me five minutes to change?”

“Make it three. And hurry.”

“Got it.” She turned and rushed upstairs with a hint of a smile on her face. With each step she climbed, she realized that she was acting less like
Katrina
and more like
Kat
, and it felt
. . .
good
.

Shana set Katrina up with a mat near the side wall of the yoga studio, close enough but not completely front and center. The room wasn’t too crowded, which helped assuage her self-consciousness about being a complete beginner.

“I hope I don’t make a fool of myself,” Katrina whispered as she rolled out the mat. “I’m not very coordinated.”

“You’ll be fine,” Shana whispered back before tiptoeing across the wooden floor. “Just copy the person next to you if you get lost.”

Katrina took a seat on her mat, interlacing her hands in her lap and waiting for the session to begin.

Shana turned down the lights, and soft music began to play. She lit a candle and sat cross-legged in front of the group, then opened a notebook. It looked like she was about to begin reading but she suddenly closed it. Katrina noticed that all the other students had their eyes closed, so she followed suit.

She heard Shana inhale deeply, then begin to speak. “I recently met a woman who has truly inspired me, who has made me remember how important it is to take chances in life. She came to New York alone, without a job, without knowing a soul
.
”

Katrina opened her eyes and looked up at Shana.
Are you talking about me?

Shana smiled at Katrina and gestured for her to close her eyes again, then continued.

“This woman didn’t
plan
to come to New York by herself, but when her travel companion had to bow out unexpectedly, instead of canceling the trip, she came
on her own
. She didn’t know a soul here, but she didn’t let that stop her. She might not even realize it yet, but I think on some level she came here
by herself
to learn
about
herself.
And meeting her has inspired
me
to keep learning about
myself
. We all need to keep learning. If we never take chances in life, if we never venture out of our comfort zones, we’ll never grow. And we all need to keep growing. The day we stop growing is the day life stops mattering.”

Katrina kept her eyes closed even after Shana finished speaking, stunned by her new friend’s perception of her. Was she really that person? A person who took chances? A person who wasn’t afraid to step out of her comfort zone? A person who inspired others?

I want to be
, she thought.

Katrina loved the class. As Shana had predicted, she did get lost several times at the beginning, and nearly fell over more than once trying to balance on one leg, but no one seemed to care. The basic sequence of positions repeated itself much like the chorus of a song, so when she got the hang of it, she was able to relax and enjoy the experience. Shana’s description of yoga had been accurate; the postures were geared more toward strengthening and elongating the muscles than providing an intense cardiovascular workout, and they did their job. Though she wondered how sore sh
e’d
be the next day, Katrina felt like sh
e’d
just gotten a massage, and her mind was calm.

“You did great, Kat.” Shana came over and handed her a bottle of water. “How do you feel? Did you enjoy it?” Though she kept her voice low, it was brimming with positive energy.

Katrina took the water and opened it. “It was just what I needed. Thank you so much for getting me to come. I wasn’t expecting that part at the beginning though. You surprised me.”

Shana smiled. “What can I say? I was hit with a bolt of inspiration, so I went with it. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh gosh, not at all.” If Shana only knew how rare it was for Katrina to inspire anyone.

“Were the poses too challenging for you?”

“A little, but not terribly. At first I felt really self-conscious, but by the end of the class I was able to relax and get into it.”

“I’m so glad to hear that.”

Katrina nodded before taking a sip of water. “I was impressed by how well you speak, but also by the way you ran the class. You have a really gentle way about you. Very soothing.”

Shana smiled. “Thanks. Maybe if there’s ever a role as a yoga teacher on Broadway, I’ll get the part.”

“Yo
u’d
be great at it.”

Shana squeezed her shoulder. “It was fun having you here. You should come to another class sometime.”

“
I’d
love to come back—assuming I can walk tomorrow, that is. I’m not sure how my hamstrings are going to respond to holding all those poses.” She pretended to grimace. Or half-pretended. Getting out of bed in the morning was going to be no joke, especially after all the ground sh
e’d
covered earlier in the day.

Shana laughed and headed toward a broom closet at the back of the room. “You’re sweet. Now scat so I can get this place ready for the next class. I don’t want to get yelled at by Blair.”

“Who’s Blair?”

“The studio owner. She’s teaching next, and she gets upset when my classes run over even a little. She’s very particular and likes time to prepare before the students show up.” Shana lowered her voice. “And she’s a little scary, if you ask me.”

“Got it.”

Out on the street, Katrina passed a tall, thin woman with ivory skin and black hair slicked back into a severe bun. She looked to be in her late thirties or early forties. Katrina smiled weakly at her, immediately intimidated. The woman nodded back but didn’t smile.

As she walked down the sidewalk, Katrina turned back and watched the woman enter the studio.

She hoped Shana had finished sweeping the floor.

Chapter Six

When she got back to her apartment, Katrina quickly showered and got dressed. After much thought, sh
e’d
made the decision that she would meet Reid for one drink and then leave. Regardless of whatever New York social etiquette was, she didn’t feel comfortable spending time alone with a married man she barely knew, no matter how nice he was.

Or maybe because of it.

She remembered what Brittany had said about his unhappy relationship.

She shook her head and told herself to stop thinking that way.

He was married,
period
.

She fixed her hair and makeup and studied herself in the mirror, once again wishing her freckles would magically disappear, that one morning sh
e’d
wake up with her mother’s flawless complexion. After agonizing over what to wear, sh
e’d
finally settled on a sleeveless black sheath cut two inches above the knee. She wanted to look nice but not like she was trying
too
hard. Unfortunately, she had zero idea what that meant in New York.

Does this look okay for a drink?

Black goes with everything, right?

One drink. Where’s the harm in that?

She switched off the bathroom light and went to grab her purse.

She was halfway out the door when she remembered. She turned on her heel and hurried back into the bedroom, her eyes scanning until they landed on the shopping bag in the corner. She pulled out the pink silk scarf and silver earrings, put on the earrings and tied the scarf around her neck, then took a quick peek in the mirror above the dresser.

She smiled.

She wasn’t looking at
Katrina
.

Katrina would never dress like this.

She was looking at
Kat
—and she liked what she saw.

I’m going out for a drink in New York!

She turned out the lights and skipped downstairs to find a cab.

A few minutes after eight o’clock, Katrina entered the lobby of Soho House, a private social club in the heart of the übertrendy Meatpacking District. After giving her name to the glamorous young woman at the front desk, she rode the elevator to the sixth floor. As she ascended silently, wondering why the walls were padded in green leather, she suddenly feared that the pink scarf looked silly. How quickly her newfound confidence had waned.

The doors opened onto what appeared to be a foyer or reception area, which led to an expansive room divided into two distinct sections. To the right was a saloon-style bar, complete with high red leather stools and dark hardwood floors. A sea of sparkling liquor bottles framed an enormous mirror mounted on the wall. A handful of plush velvet couches and love seats separated the bar from a dining area; a roaring fire in the large marble fireplace set against the back wall emitted a cozy glow. To the left was a large, beautifully appointed lounge filled with clusters of friends and couples chatting away over drinks. A few people even sat alone, quietly reading books with glasses of wine in one hand. Crisply attired waiters in white shirts and black bow ties and vests moved silently among the guests, gracefully refilling glasses and whisking away empty ones.

Katrina immediately loved everything about Soho House.

She soon spotted Reid. He was chatting at the bar with two men, one taller than he, one shorter. All three of them were wearing sport coats and ties. She lifted her hand to yank off the scarf and tuck it into her purse, then willed herself to stop.

No.

You’re in New York now.

You look fine.

She took a deep breath, smoothed her hand over her dress, and walked toward the bar. She was about ten feet away when Reid looked over and saw her. He grinned and set down his drink.

“Well, hello there, Snow White.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for coming. It’s great to see you.”

She smiled. “Thanks for inviting me. It’s nice to see you too.”

Reid gestured toward the two men. “Kat Lynden, meet Ryder Schaffer and Colby Sinclair. Kat’s new in town, from California.”

They each held up their glasses and nodded in salutation, then Colby gestured to the bar. “Welcome to New York. What can we get you to drink? We’re doing scotch and soda.”

Katrina looked up at him and guessed he had to be six foot three, maybe even taller.

She lightly touched one of her new earrings and tried to conceal her nerves. “A glass of wine would be lovely. Thank you.”

“Could you be more specific?” He looked amused.

“Oh, yes, of course. Sorry. Red would be fine. Thanks.”

He laughed. “Still need more direction.”

“How about a pinot?” Reid put a hand on her arm. “They have an excellent Kosta Browne.”

Ryder nodded. “The oh-nine Sonoma Coast. Good call. Stellar year for that blend.” He glanced at Katrina’s chest as he spoke.

“Sound good to you?” Colby asked her.

She had no idea what that was, but she smiled and nodded. “Sure, that sounds nice.”

“One glass of the oh-nine Sonoma Coast, coming right up.” As Colby turned to the bar to order, Katrina noticed he was wearing a wedding ring. So was Ryder. It was Friday night. Where were their wives? Where was Reid’s wife? Was this really how things worked here?

“Did you find this place okay?” Reid asked her.

She nodded. “I love the cobblestone streets in this neighborhood. It sort of makes me feel like I’m in a movie set in old New York.”

“How long have you been in town?” Ryder asked. The way he looked at her made her slightly uncomfortable, and she found herself taking a tiny step backward.

“Just a few days. This is the first time I’ve been to the Meatpacking District.”

He sipped his drink. “What part of California are you from?”

“The Bay Area.”

“Is that so? Where exactly?”

“Mountain View.”

He nodded very slowly. “Niiiiiice. I went to business school at Stanford. Dammit, I love the weather out there.”

She noticed he was slurring his words a bit and wondered how many drinks h
e’d
had.

“It’s pretty nice, no arguing that. I’m excited for fall here, but I’m not sure how well I’ll be able to handle New York if it starts snowing,” she said.

“Why did you move here?”

She swallowed. “I didn’t actually
move
here. I’m just staying for a couple months.”

“For work?”

“No, just
. . .
for fun.”

Reid grinned. “She’s being adventurous.”

Ryder nodded. “I dig it. New York is the place to be if you want adventure.”

Katrina looked at Reid and then at the others. “Do you all work together?”

Reid shook his head. “Same industry, different firms. It’s a big city but a small community.”

“How do you know our man Reid here?” Ryder asked.

“She went to college with a friend of mine,” Reid said. “You know the tall blonde, Brittany?” He held his palm up to about his eye level.

Ryder nodded. “Ah, yes. That woman isn’t someone a man can easily forget.”

Colby turned around and handed Katrina a glass of wine. “Who’s that now?”

“Brittany Levin,” Reid said. “We used to work together. I don’t think you’ve met her.”

“Believe me, you want to meet her,” Ryder said. “Killer rack.”

Katrina let the comment pass. Ryder was clearly not her type of person, but she willed herself to be friendly. She took a sip of her wine and forced a smile. “Do you both live in Manhattan?”

Colby shook his head. “I’m in Westchester.”

“Westchester?” Her eyes were blank.

“The northern suburbs that begin right after Manhattan ends,” Reid said. “Moving there is sort of par for the course here once people get married and start having kids. Either that or Long Island. Or New Jersey.”

“Oh, do you have kids?” she asked Colby.

He smiled. “One in the oven.”

“Wow, congratulations.” She turned to Ryder. “What about you?”

“I’m in Montclair, which is in New Jersey.” He pointed in the direction of the fireplace, which she assumed meant west. “And downtown.” He motioned behind the bartenders.

Reid saw the confusion on Katrina’s face and explained. “That’s par for the course around here too. A lot of guys in the banking industry who are married have houses in the burbs but keep apartments in the city because of the long hours.”

Katrina nodded and took another sip of wine. “Got it.” She wondered where Ryder would be sleeping tonight. This lifestyle was so foreign to her.

“What about you?” Colby asked. “Where are you staying while you’re in town?”

“I’m subletting a place in Gramercy.”

“Cool. And how are you liking New York so far?”

She smiled. “So far I’ve had a lovely time, although I’ve barely skimmed the surface. There’s so much to do here that I can’t seem to get anything done.”

Reid held up his glass. “That’s why they call this city Disneyland for adults.
Everything
here is worth doing.”

Katrina looked at him. “Disneyland for adults? I hadn’t heard that, but I like it.” She turned back to Colby and Ryder. “What about you two?”

“What about us
what
?” Ryder said, his eyes a little glassy.

“What do you like to do when you’re not working? Any recommendations for things I should add to my adventure list?”

Ryder took a gulp of his drink and gave her a suggestive look. “I like to get into trouble. You interested in joining me?”

Reid shook his head. “Don’t be an ass, man. I’m sorry, Kat. We’ve been here for a few hours. Just ignore him.”

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Ryder said with a shrug as he polished off his drink.

Katrina didn’t want to think too much about what kind of trouble he was referring to. Whatever it was, she wanted no part of it, or him.

Reid squeezed Ryder’s shoulder. “Don’t you have dinner plans?”

Colby set down his drink and looked at his watch. “I think my hall pass is up too. Lisa’s got dinner waiting for me.”

“Okay, okay.” Ryder held up his hands in surrender. “I can take a hint.” He gestured clumsily to the bartender for the check. “Sure you and Kat can’t join us?” he said to Reid. “We’re going out hard tonight.”

“Maybe next time,” Reid said.

Katrina wondered who Ryder meant by
we
, but she also didn’t really want to know.

After Ryder and Colby left, Reid and Katrina moved to the far corner of the bar, which was closer to the fireplace and much less crowded. She was able to relax a little, now that it was just the two of them.

“Alone at last,” he said. “Sorry about Ryder.”

“I thought he seemed
. . .
nice enough.” She gave him a polite smile, figuring it was best to keep her misgivings to herself. “Colby too.”

He chuckled. “You’re so gracious. It’s very charming. Ryder’s not all bad, but he can be kind of a prick when he drinks. Amelia can’t stand him.”

“Who’s Amelia?”

“My wife.”

She hesitated. “Oh.” He hadn’t mentioned his wife by name before, but Katrina still felt a little silly for having asked. Her foot had begun to tap, and she forced herself to stop it. “Where is Amelia tonight?”

“She’s out with friends.” There was noticeable tension in his voice. “Can I get you another drink?”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m still working on this one.”

He gestured to the bartender, and Katrina gazed into the fireplace as he ordered. “Don’t the men in New York ever go out with their wives?” she mumbled under her breath.

“What was that?” Reid asked.

She blushed. “Oh, nothing.”

“Come on now, you said
something
. Out with it, Snow White,” he said, wiggling his fingers in a come-here gesture.

“I
. . .
was just wondering if any men here go out
with
their wives. Do they?”

He half-smiled, then shrugged. “Depends on whose wife you’re talking about.”

She had no idea what he meant by that remark or how to respond to it, so she just took another look around the room. “Is Soho House only for bankers? It’s beautiful here.”