Katwalk (31 page)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Six months later

Katrina had set her alarm for 6:00 a.m., but she was so wound up she woke up on her own fifteen minutes before that. There was just so much to do to prepare for the big opening, and she wanted every detail to be perfect—or at least nearly perfect, which had become good enough for her.

She opened her bedroom window and poked her head outside. The fresh morning air was cool, but to Katrina it seemed practically balmy compared to the harsh weather sh
e’d
experienced—and survived—during her first winter in New York. Even at this hour of the morning, the sun was already shining, with summer just around the corner.

After making her bed, she glanced at the calendar on her desk.

A small black circle was drawn around Thursday, May 15.

Today.

It was finally here.

She smiled at the calendar, then spontaneously grabbed a pen and drew a smiley face next to the circle.

That’s more like it.

She spent most of the day at the studio getting everything ready for the launch party, crossing items off her list one by one.

Decorations, check.

Music, check.

Food, check.

Drinks, check.

Lighting, check.

Nerves
. . .
still working on it.

Grace and Shana arrived just after lunch, and Justin popped in and out throughout the day to make sure nothing needed hanging, hammering, or replacing. The
y’d
hired Enrique the driver for a flat rate to lug anything that needed to be lugged, and they were getting their money’s worth. Ferrying boxes of everything from paper plates to champagne and decorative lanterns, his car was continuously on the move, often with a harried Katrina in the backseat.

“I’m going to try to double-park, but this area can be tricky, so if I’m not here when you come out, I’m circling around the block,” Enrique said as Katrina hopped out of the sedan. They were in Tribeca to pick up a batch of miniature cupcakes Brittany had insisted on buying for the party. Though Katrina knew she could easily find similar ones for half the price in Brooklyn, she also knew that arguing with a force like Brittany over anything—especially money—was not a winning strategy. But Brittany had gotten hauled into an all-day meeting at work and couldn’t pick them up before the festivities started, so here Katrina was.

“Got it.” She hustled into the bakery, checking her watch as she took her place in line. Deb’s plane landed in an hour, so, assuming the cupcakes were ready, Enrique would have plenty of time to drop Katrina back at the studio before driving out to JFK to pick up Deb.

As she waited patiently for the teenager in front of her to purchase a cookie, she pulled her list out of her pocket and felt a sense of accomplishment when she saw how many items sh
e’d
already checked off. So far, things were right on track.

“May I help you?”

Katrina looked up at the woman behind the counter. “Oh, hi, yes, I have an order to pick up for Brittany Levin.”

The woman smiled. “Oh, yes, of course. Let me get it from the back.”

Katrina smiled back.
Pick up overpriced cupcakes, check.

Moments later, she exited the bakery carrying the large box. She didn’t see Enrique, so she turned and looked in the direction of oncoming traffic.

What she saw approaching made her jaw drop.

Or more to the point,
who
she saw.

It was Reid.

Reid Hanson, walking alongside an extremely pregnant woman.

It was too late for Katrina to move, and she didn’t want to risk dropping the cupcakes, so she just stood there in the middle of the sidewalk, frozen. Reid looked equally surprised.

“Kat, hi.”

“Reid.” She was too tongue-tied to say anything more.

Reid cleared his throat. “This is my wife, Amelia. Amelia, this is Kat, a friend of a friend.”

“Hi,” Katrina said a bit awkwardly.

Amelia gave Katrina what appeared to be a warm smile, which surprised her. “It’s nice to meet you.
I’d
shake, but it looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Yes, um, cupcakes,” Katrina said.

Amelia nodded toward the bakery entrance. “This place is amazing, isn’t it? I had the worst cravings early on, for chocolate peanut-butter balls, of all things. Ten in the morning and
I’d
hustle down here for half a dozen of them.” She put her hands on her bulging stomach.

“I’ll have to try those sometime.” Katrina was thrown by Amelia’s friendliness.

“Why are you still in New York?” Reid gave her a curious look. “Weren’t you here for just a few weeks?”

If he was afraid Katrina was going to rat him out, he didn’t let on. He looked as unflappable as ever, and she wondered how many women in a position similar to hers were wandering around Manhattan.

Katrina held up the box. “Change of plans. Looks like I’m staying for a while.”

“Oh, cool. Well, hey, w
e’d
better get going.” Reid put his hand on Amelia’s lower back. “It was nice seeing you, Kat. Maybe I’ll bump into you again sometime.”

“That would be nice.” Katrina smiled.

She knew sh
e’d
probably never see him again.

For a moment, as she watched Reid and Amelia walk away, she was curious to know what was really going on inside their marriage.

She was also delighted to realize that she didn’t care.

“It’s magical, Katrina.” Deb tilted her head back to admire the light-blue ceiling of the yoga studio, which was sprinkled with a trail of bright silver stars leading to a half-moon on the far wall.

“Who’s Katrina?” Grace appeared and handed them each a champagne flute.

Deb laughed. “I’m sorry. I mean, it’s magical,
Kat
.”

Katrina put her arm around Deb and gave her a squeeze. “
You
can always call me Katrina. I wouldn’t want it any other way. To be honest, I still think of myself as Katrina, at least right now.”

Deb held up her glass. “Well, Kat, Katrina, whoever you are, cheers to this beautiful place you’ve created.”

“What are we toasting?” Shana walked up.

“Your engagement, of course,” Grace said. “Just like we’ve been doing for the last three months.”

“We are?” Shana giggled and held her left hand up to her cheek, a diamond ring glittering in the soft light.

“Barf,” Grace said.

“What are
you
complaining about?” Katrina asked Grace, pointing to the other room. “Li’s at the coffee bar right now, probably missing you even though you’re only like twenty feet away.”

“Who’s Li?” Deb asked.

“He
was
Grace’s pretend boyfriend, but he’s not so pretend anymore,” Katrina said.

Deb looked at Grace quizzically.

“He came crawling back,” Grace said.

Apparently, Li
had
been telling the truth about his feelings for Grace, and the
y’d
rekindled their romance a month earlier. Li had finally turned the corner and was ready to commit, but now, as Grace liked to say, she was the one “wearing the jock.” This time around things would be on her terms—just the way she liked it.

“Come on, I’ll introduce you.” Grace grabbed Deb’s arm and pulled her toward the front room.

The four of them left the yoga studio, passing down a short hallway into a large open space with a coffee bar on one side and clusters of plush lounge chairs sprinkled around the room. Justin and Josh stood like footmen in front of the bar, Justin dexterously holding a platter of Brittany’s cupcakes, Josh carefully balancing a tray of champagne flutes and miniature cappuccinos. Beethoven’s
Moonlight Sonata
played in the background. The coffee bar looked similar to Justin’s shop in her old neighborhood, just as Katrina had envisioned.

Even more importantly, it
felt
similar.

Warm.

Inviting.

Friendly.

A Place for Yoga and Coffee
was officially open for business.

Katrina’s paintings, all for sale, hung on the walls. Sh
e’d
recently completed a new series sh
e’d
done exclusively in Brooklyn Heights, after moving there. The subjects sh
e’d
chosen were simple, but she found them as inspiring and beautiful as the famous landmarks that surrounded them—if not more so. Cobblestone streets, mom-and-pop storefronts, tidy brownstones, meticulously tended flower beds. With each piece, she paid homage to something she adored about her new neighborhood, including what was possibly her favorite discovery of all: the stoop sale. Part garage sale, part flea market, 100 percent social hour, the stoop sale was an integral part of life in Brooklyn Heights, and no lazy Saturday was complete without stopping by at least one.

Or two.

When sh
e’d
arrived earlier in the day, Katrina had been surprised to see that Justin had framed one of her earlier paintings and positioned it prominently at the entrance. Fittingly, it was the one sh
e’d
given him of the bench on the Brooklyn Promenade, a few days after sh
e’d
come up with the idea behind A Place for Yoga and Coffee. A far corner of the main room featured a pretty tree-shaped display of Grace’s jewelry—though given how many shops across Manhattan were now selling it, she hardly needed the exposure anymore. Grace was finally on her way, and Katrina hoped that one day sh
e’d
have similar success with her art.

As her friends chatted, Katrina twirled slowly in a circle, taking it all in, thinking about what it meant. All of them working together to create something special, something their future patrons didn’t even know they wanted but that they would grow to love. Although not entirely certain how things would play out, she felt hopeful and optimistic.

For now, hope and optimism were enough.

The front door chimed, and Katrina turned around.

“Hey, there’s Brittany.”

“Who’s Brittany?” Grace asked.

“She’s the one person I knew before I moved here.”

Deb elbowed Grace. “You mean back when she was still
Katrina
?”

Grace elbowed Deb back. “You mean back when she was rigid and uptight?”

“I prefer words like
organized
and
structured
,” Katrina said with a tiny smile.

Katrina grabbed a champagne flute from Josh’s tray and approached Brittany. In her black dress and heels—which put her well over six feet tall—she was as sensational as ever.

“Hi, Brittany, welcome!” Katrina said. “Thanks so much for coming.”

Brittany took the flute. “It’s my pleasure, hon. I can’t believe how cute this neighborhood is, and so close to Manhattan! How have I lived in New York for nearly nine years and never been here? I need to stop ignoring Brooklyn.”

“Given how popular Brooklyn is now, we’re hoping to have a lot of business, even from fancy Manhattanites like you,” Katrina said. “Oh, that reminds me: thanks so much for the fancy cupcakes. They’re a huge hit.”

“It’s my pleasure. Your new apartment is near here?”

Katrina nodded. “In a brownstone around the corner. It’s not big, but it’s super charming. I’m madly in love with it.”

“Look at you, all grown-up and making things happen. I’m impressed. Pretty soon you’ll be teaching me a thing or two.”

“I highly doubt that will
ever
happen, but thanks for the vote of confidence.”

Brittany touched one of the spaghetti straps on Katrina’s black cocktail dress, which sh
e’d
bought months ago at Chelsea Market. “I’m digging the frock. Did you buy that here?”

Katrina nodded. “To be honest, I don’t wear many of my California clothes that much anymore. I’ve realized they’re all a little, um, conservative, especially for New York.”

Deb laughed. “Have I not been telling you that forever? Your wardrobe was conservative for
Mountain View
, for crying out loud.”

Brittany gave Katrina’s shoulder a squeeze. “Well, whatever it is you’re doing, it’s working. You look gorgeous.”