Katwalk (13 page)

He shook his head. “Not at all. In fact, Colby and I may be the only members who work in finance. This club is more for artsy types—a lot of writers, musicians, theater people, that sort of crowd.”

“Ryder’s not a member?”

“No way. He hates this place. Too lowbrow for him. He’s a member of the Union League Club. That’s much more up his alley.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say it’s the type of place where you might run into a Rockefeller or a Roosevelt. Or maybe even a Morgan.”

“Got it.” She studied the dozen or so people lining the bar. Despite the swank surroundings, most of the women were dressed in jeans and cute tops. Unlike Reid, most of the men weren’t wearing ties.

“If there aren’t any bankers at this club, why did you decide to join it?” she asked.

He gave her an amused look. “You don’t know many bankers, do you?”

She shook her head.

“Clearly not, because if you did, you wouldn’t ask that question.”

“Not your favorite personality type?”

He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “Completely stereotyping here, but you might say that where Colby is the exception, Ryder is the norm.”

“The norm?” She didn’t really want to know what he meant. Snobbish? Rude? Lecherous? All of the above?

He tapped a finger on her nose. “Let’s just leave it at that. So are you hungry? They have great appetizers here.” He nodded to the bartender, who set two menus in front of them.

She gave him a grateful smile, glad to be changing the subject. “Actually,
yes
. I’m starving.”

“Want to see the roof-deck?”

Katrina looked up from a plate of calamari. “There’s a roof-deck here?”

He nodded. “It’s packed in the summertime. Kind of a scene, actually.”

“
I’d
love to see it.”

After the
y’d
finished eating, Reid asked the bartender to bring him the check. When Katrina tried to offer her credit card, he waved her hand away. “Please. You’re my guest.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Unlike Ryder, I’m a gentleman, remember?”

“Okay, well, thank you then. I appreciate it.” She slipped the card back into her purse and stood up. “Will you direct me to the powder room, please?”

He pointed toward the elevators, then gestured back toward the bar. “You want another glass of wine?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.” She turned on her heel and strolled across the room, adjusting her scarf as she walked. She felt a little silly for having been so anxious about meeting him. Given his opinion of Ryder, sh
e’d
clearly erred in perceiving his overtures as anything more than friendly. She exhaled and was surprised when she felt a bit relieved. It was nice to know sh
e’d
made a new friend. Over their appetizers, h
e’d
surprised her with how many ideas he had for things for her to do in town, as well as suggestions for galleries she should check out.

When she returned a few minutes later, Reid was signing his credit-card receipt. He put his wallet in his pocket and stood up, then pointed to two fresh drinks on the bar. One was a scotch and soda, the other a goblet of pinot noir.

He grinned at her. “I overruled you and got us both roadies. You ready to check out the deck?”

Though she didn’t want another glass of wine, she didn’t want to appear rude. “Show me the way.”

He pointed to her scarf. “I’m liking that look, by the way. It’s very Audrey Hepburn.”

“Oh, thank you.” Her hand flew up to her neck and touched the pink silk. She smiled awkwardly, unaccustomed to being complimented on her appearance.

They walked across the bar and entered the crowded lounge area, which had filled up since sh
e’d
first arrived, then climbed the stairwell one floor to the roof-deck. Reid held open the door for her, and when she walked outside Katrina caught her breath. Although they were only on the seventh floor, two entire sides of the roof deck were enclosed by glass walls, offering a stunning view of the neighborhood—building after building illuminated in sparkling lights—as well as the night sky above.

“It’s gorgeous up here, Reid.”

“Told you so.”

She turned to admire the pool. It was deserted, the water still.

“It looks like glass,” she said softly.

“They’ll cover it soon for the winter. I’ve always thought it would be cool if they just let it freeze though.”

“It would freeze?”

“Not all the way through. The top layer would.”

She sipped her wine, taking in her surroundings. A row of crisp lounge chairs was perfectly aligned around the rectangular pool, the outer perimeter dotted by closed sunshade umbrellas and strings of white lights that reminded her of Christmas. A tented section near the stairwell housed a bar, this one with a marble counter, as well as a handful of round marble tables, all gleaming in the soft moonlight.

They strolled to the far end of the pool to take in the view. “I can see why people would want to spend time up here in the summer,” she said. “If I were a member here,
I’d
never leave.”

“It’s no joke. It can get pretty crowded when the weather’s nice, especially Friday afternoons. I’m surprised there’s no one up here right now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it empty.”

“That might be because it looks like it’s going to rain.” She gazed up at the cloudy sky, and when she tilted her head back she felt a little dizzy from the wine.

Just at that moment they heard a roar of thunder and the rain started coming down.

Hard.

The nearest shelter was a small awning hanging over the restrooms and a utility closet on the other side of the pool. They made a run for it—moving as fast as they could without spilling their drinks—then flattened themselves against the wall and watched the skies open up. The raindrops danced on the pool like tiny ball bearings.

They both started to laugh.

“Did you get wet?” Reid asked, just slightly out of breath.

“Not too much.” Katrina watched the deluge with wide eyes. “I’ve never seen it rain this hard.”

“Really? This is nothing.”

She gaped at him. “You’re joking.”

“Not joking. You should go to Florida sometime. Ma’am, you ain’t seen
nothin’
until you’ve been through a rainstorm in the South.” He said the last part in an exaggerated southern drawl.

She laughed and stared out at the downpour in amazement. “I’m glad it’s not too cold out here. It’s actually much nicer than I thought it would be.”

“At least we have drinks to keep us warm either way.” He clinked his glass against hers.

The dance of the raindrops on the cement was mesmerizing. Katrina could hardly believe she was on the rooftop of a swish social club in New York City on a warm fall evening with the rain pounding down in silvery sheets all around her. She felt so free—so
alive—
that she soon realized she didn’t want it to stop.

Was it the rain that made her feel that way?

She wasn’t so sure.

The two of them stood side by side in silence for several moments, their backs pressed against the wall, their eyes fixed on the raindrops. Then Reid bent down to set his empty glass on the ground. When he stood up, he faced Katrina.

“This has been fun,” he said. “
Again
.”

She smiled. “It has. Thanks for inviting me out, and for introducing me to your friends.”

He cocked his head to one side. “You really are like Snow White, aren’t you? So innocent, so
. . .
pure
.”

Katrina was surprised at the comment, which—despite being true—gave her a sudden twinge of discomfort.

Before she could reply, he spoke again. “I don’t want it to stop raining.” His voice was noticeably softer now.

“Me neither.” She looked up at the sky again. “It’s so pretty.”

“So are you.”

She caught her breath.

He put a hand on her arm. “Is that wrong to say?”

She looked at the ground “I
. . .
I think I should probably go.”

“Please don’t.” He didn’t release her arm.

She swallowed and couldn’t make eye contact with him. His hand was warm, and she felt her pulse quicken. She was grateful for the steady drumbeat of rain that concealed the sound of her shallow breathing. The last thing she wanted was for him to know how flustered she was.

“Kat . . .”

She still couldn’t look at him.

This wasn’t what she wanted.

She knew she was going to get drenched if she took even one step out from under the awning, but she forced herself to do it. “I really think I should go. Thanks for everything, Reid.” She met his gaze for just a moment, then dashed through the streaming rain toward the stairwell.

“He really hit on you?” Deb asked.

“I think so.”

“Are you sure he wasn’t just being friendly? You know how naïve you can be about men. No offense, of course.”

Katrina sighed and looked out of her bedroom window. It was still pouring nearly an hour after sh
e’d
left Soho House. “I don’t know. Maybe I was reading him wrong, but I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure if I hadn’t bolted, he was going to kiss me.”

“Did you want him to?”

Katrina hesitated before replying. “No. And yes. Does that make sense?”

“Of course it does. It makes perfect sense. It’s a very gray area.”

“I feel guilty, Deb.”

“Why?
You’re
not married. And you didn’t even do anything.”

“I know, but I feel guilty for even being in that situation.”

“Don’t. What woman our age hasn’t had a questionable encounter with a married guy?”

Katrina sat up straight. “I haven’t.”

“Well, now you have. Welcome to the club.”

“You’ve had an
encounter
with a married man?”

“Yes.”

“When? And who?”

“Remember that cardiologist at Stanford Hospital a couple years ago?”

“Which one? I feel like you’re always dating doctors.”

“The cute one with the glasses? The one who conveniently wasn’t wearing a wedding ring when I met him?”

Katrina nodded into the phone. “Oh my gosh, that’s right, I totally forgot about him.”

“Lucky you. I still haven’t. So are you going to see this Reid guy again?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, I sort of want to, but I don’t think I should. I should just stay away from him, right?”

“I’m hardly the morality police, but that’s probably a good idea. There are a billion other guys in New York anyway. Why get tangled up with one who’s already taken?”

“That’s what I’ve been telling myself, or at least
trying
to tell myself, even though the attention was just so
. . .
nice.” Katrina sighed. She hated to admit it, but it had been a long time since a man had paid attention to her like that. Actually—if she were really honest with herself—no man had ever paid attention to her quite like that. The way h
e’d
looked after her so considerately, especially when Ryder had been less than chivalrous. It made her feel
. . .
deserving.

“Attention can be deceiving. You never know what someone’s motives are.”

Katrina flopped back against the pillows. “You’re right. Okay, enough about me. When are you going to come to visit?”

“Sounds like you’re doing pretty well out there on your own.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m just saying it’s nice to see you coming out of your shell, that’s all.”

Katrina gazed at the ceiling. “I still want you to come visit. It would be so much more fun if you were here.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. You know if it were up to me
I’d
be there right now. But with this new territory I’m in charge of, I don’t see it happening anytime soon. I’m leaving at the crack of dawn tomorrow for a meeting in Fresno, of all places. A Saturday meeting in Fresno. Fresno! Land of lowrider pickup trucks with tacky things written on the back window. Shoot me now, will you, please? And as you’re standing over my dying body, remind me why I wanted this promotion in the first place.”

Katrina laughed. “At least you’re not melodramatic or anything. I thought you wanted the promotion so you could buy me an expensive thirtieth-birthday present.”