Katwalk (7 page)

Katrina arrived a few minutes early and took a seat at the far end of the downstairs bar. Quietly nursing a soda water with lemon, she watched the scene unfolding around her. It was only Wednesday, but the place was quickly becoming as full as any bar in Mountain View on a Friday or Saturday night. She had her purse sitting on the bar stool next to her and hoped Brittany wouldn’t be late. Otherwise, she knew she wouldn’t have the nerve to hold the seat much longer.

“You okay there?” The bartender pointed to her drink.

Katrina nodded as she straightened the small stack of cardboard coasters sh
e’d
created on the bar. “I’m fine for now, thank you.” She felt a little silly ordering soda water at a place like this, but she wasn’t comfortable ordering an alcoholic drink by herself. Sitting at a bar alone was awkward enough. Sh
e’d
never been much of a bar person, and here she was, out for the second night in a row—and midweek to boot! Deb would be so proud of her.

“Katrina Lynden, is that really you?”

Katrina turned at the sound of the raspy voice behind her. She stood up and smoothed her dress as a tall blonde wearing what appeared to be a black cape approached and gave her a hug.

As Katrina hugged Brittany back, she was surprised to realize how happy she was to see a familiar face, even though it had been more than ten years since sh
e’d
laid eyes on it.

“Brittany, hi. It’s so nice to see you.”

As a freshman in the dorms, Katrina had always thought of Brittany as an adult figure, though in reality she was only three years ahead of her in school. Impressions made as a teenager were hard to break, so even now, in Katrina’s eyes, she still seemed much more grown-up. It might have been her chic black outfit, or the way she had her blonde locks swept up in a classic twist, but Katrina felt like a girl of eighteen around her. She wondered whether Brittany still thought of Katrina as a kid just out of high school. She ran her fingers over the silver pendant and tried to stand up straight, hoping to make a good impression.

Her hands still on Katrina’s shoulders, Brittany took a step backward and smiled at her. “Wow. It has been
ages
, hasn’t it? I can’t believe you’re all grown-up and here in New York City. You look great. I
love
that necklace. It looks gorgeous with your fair skin.” She glanced at Katrina’s glass. “What are you drinking? I’ll get you a refill.”

Katrina’s eyes followed. “Oh, I was actually just drinking some soda water.”

Brittany gave her a strange look. “Soda water
. . .
as in
only
soda water?”

Katrina offered a sheepish smile. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

“You don’t drink? Oh, wait, I’m sorry. Are you . . .” Her voice trailed off into an awkward pause.

Katrina knew what Brittany was thinking and quickly shook her head. “Oh, no, I
do
drink, just—just not all that often.” Hardly ever, actually.

Brittany waved a hand in front of her. “Well, we must put a stop to that immediately. This is
New York
, after all, where drinking is the city pastime. Do you take your margaritas with salt?” She leaned over the bar and flagged down the bartender, who was a good ten feet away, then snapped her fingers. “Hey there, hon. Two top-shelf margaritas, please.”

The man nodded back in acknowledgment, and Brittany asked Katrina again, “Salt okay?”

“Okay, sure. Thanks.” She was too embarrassed to tell the truth, which was that she had no idea.

Brittany turned back to the bartender, who was approaching them. “Both with salt, and make them strong, thank you very much, you handsome thing.” She pulled her credit card out of her wallet and handed it to him.

“That’s all you have to say to me?” he asked.

Brittany winked at him and nodded toward Katrina. “I’m busy catching up with an old friend. We’ll chat later.”

“Does your friend have a name?” The bartended turned to Katrina and smiled. “I’m Kevin.”

“I’m Katrina
. . .
er
. . .
Kat
. . .
either is fine,” Katrina said. “It’s nice to meet you, Kevin.”

Brittany looked at her. “You go by Kat now?”

“In New York I think maybe I do.” She managed a nervous smile. “I’m still trying it on.”

Brittany nodded. “I like the sound of it. Has a bit of that What-happens-in-Vegas-stays-in-Vegas vibe to it, you know what I mean?”

“I’ll leave you two ladies to get reacquainted.” As Kevin walked away to prepare the drinks, Katrina wondered how well they knew each other. Or did Brittany call everyone
handsome
?

Brittany took off her cape and plopped down on the bar stool. “I’m so glad today is over, can I just tell you that? I’m exhausted.”

“Bad day at the office?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, just exhausting. It’s always exhausting. But let’s not talk about me right now. I want to talk about
you
. How are you doing? You really do look amazing, by the way. Your hair is gorgeous. I don’t remember it being this long.” She reached over and petted Katrina’s wavy auburn locks.

Katrina felt her cheeks flush at the attention. “Thanks. I’m doing well.” Even though they were both sitting down, she felt even smaller in Brittany’s imposing presence than she remembered feeling in college. Her foot began tapping against the bar stool and she forced herself to stop.

“I’m so happy you got in touch. What brings you to New York?” Brittany asked.

Katrina swallowed. “Well, my best friend, Deb, thought it would be fun for us to quit our jobs and move here for a couple months. It’s not normally the sort of thing I would do, but—”

“I love it! I like how this Deb thinks.”

“It took some convincing on her part, but she finally got me to take the plunge.”

“She sounds like someone I want to meet. Where is she tonight?”

“Oh, well, unfortunately her side of the bargain fell through at the last minute, so she didn’t come.”

Kevin set two margaritas in front of them along with Brittany’s credit card. “Ladies, on the house.”

“Thanks, handsome.” Brittany touched his arm, then raised an eyebrow at Katrina. “You came here by yourself?”

“Yep.”

“Do you know anyone here? I mean, besides me?”

“Not really. There’s a handful of people from school I’ll probably meet up with at some point, but they’re not exactly buddies.” Although
two
could hardly be called a handful, she didn’t feel like admitting just how few people she knew here in New York. They also hadn’t e-mailed her back, another depressing factoid she didn’t feel like sharing.

“Wow. Good for you for flying solo. I wouldn’t ever have expected you to make such a bold move, but I guess everyone grows up eventually. You were such a shy little thing back in the dorms. Quieter than a baby hamster.”

Katrina realized how accurate—if not exactly flattering—the description was. But she didn’t take offense. It was clear Brittany hadn’t meant it as an insult, and that she didn’t see Katrina as a wallflower anymore
. . .
even though Katrina knew all too well that she was just as much of a “shy little thing” as ever. She glanced at the sliding stack of coasters and quickly moved to straighten them.

Brittany held up her glass for a toast. “Cheers to you for having a pair, and welcome to New York. It’s a damn fun place to be, I’ll tell you that much.”

Katrina clinked her margarita against Brittany’s and took a small sip, trying her best not to visibly flinch at the strong kick of tequila. The crowd around them was getting louder, so she raised her voice a few decibels. “How long have you been living here?”

Brittany closed her eyes and tapped her forehead with her index finger. “How long have I been living here? Oh Jesus, let’s see
. . . .
I came here straight out of business school . . .”

Katrina watched her do the math in her head.

“So that puts it at eight years now.” Brittany opened her eyes. “Damn! Scary how fast time goes.”

“So I’ve heard,” Katrina said. “You work in investment banking, right?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m in mergers and acquisitions at Goldman Sachs.”

Katrina took another sip of her drink. “Do you like it?” Despite her own mundane experience in accounting, Katrina had always thought investment banking sounded like the more glamorous side of the number-crunching world—and with much better perks.

Brittany raised her eyebrow again. “Do I like it? Now
that
is a loaded question.”

“What do you mean?”

She stirred her margarita. “Well
. . .
I love the money, I hate the hours. I love the challenge, I hate the politics. I love the intellectual stimulation, I hate being on the road so much. I love the lifestyle, I hate the lifestyle. Need I go on?”

Katrina smiled. “I think I get the picture. Are there a lot of women in your field? I think you’re the only investment banker I know, male or female. Actually, that’s not quite true. I went on a few dates with a banker once, but then he stopped calling.” Katrina stiffened and wondered why she was being so candid with that information. Was the tequila already affecting her? Or was it just the fact that she was in a new environment? Regardless, it felt nice to share, and Brittany didn’t seem to find the comment odd at all.

“Yes, there are women, just not even close to as many as there should be. But you could say that about most high-paying jobs in this country, couldn’t you?” She took a big sip of her margarita and glanced around the room, then put her hand on Katrina’s arm. “So tell me, what have you been up to since college? I don’t think I’ve seen you since you were a freshman. Just a baby, you were.”

Katrina hesitated, embarrassed at the dearth of interesting stories she had to share about her life since then. She squeezed the stem of her glass. “Not much, really. I’ve been living in Mountain View since I graduated.”

“Mountain View? Why on earth would any recent college graduate want to live in Mountain View?” Brittany looked sincerely perplexed. “Nearly everyone I knew in school moved to San Francisco.”

Katrina shifted on her bar stool. “I, um, I got offered a job at an advertising agency there a few weeks before the end of my senior year, so I took it. I started the week after graduation, and before I knew it,
I’d
been there for eight years.” Saying it out loud made her even more self-conscious.
How did that happen?

Brittany’s eyes brightened. “Advertising? Sounds fun. What sort of campaigns have you worked on? Anything I might have seen?”

Katrina cleared her throat. “Oh, well, actually I worked in the finance department, so I wasn’t involved in the campaigns. I was an accounting major.”

“Oh.” The brightness in Brittany’s eyes disappeared. Despite her genuine interest in Katrina, she was clearly—however understandably—underwhelmed by this information.

Katrina slouched a little on her stool, wishing she hadn’t led such a boring life. No wonder she avoided social situations. She never had anything interesting to add to the conversation. “What did
you
major in?” she asked, hoping to deflect the focus from herself.

Brittany shrugged and glanced around the bar. “Econ. Pretty standard in my industry. Where are you staying while you’re in town?”

Katrina perked up a little bit at the reminder that she was no longer working at the agency and, at least for the moment, no longer living in Mountain View. For once, she
did
have something interesting to say. “I’ve sublet an apartment in Gramercy. Although my neighbor told me I should say the East Village because she thinks it sounds cooler.”

Brittany smiled. “Your neighbor sounds funny. And young. Is she young?”

“I think she said she’s twenty-six.”

Brittany pointed at her. “Bingo. Everyone in their twenties wants to live in the East Village and go dancing like a rock star every night. Then one day they turn thirty, and soon they start wearing earplugs to sleep and bitching about the piles of trash they have to navigate on the way to work. And then, eventually, they realize it’s time to find a new neighborhood.”

Katrina winced. Sh
e’d
been wearing earplugs to bed since her freshman year in college.

“Did you leave anyone back home?” Brittany asked.

“You mean a boyfriend?”

“You think I was talking about a cat?”

Katrina laughed awkwardly. “No, no boyfriend.” She said the words quickly. Too quickly, she thought, as if sh
e’d
replied
Of course I don’t have a boyfriend!
Why would I have a boyfriend?
Was it really that odd a question?

Brittany polished off her drink. “Well, that’s a good thing, because there are plenty of men here. Not many are worth bringing home to Mom and Dad for the holidays, but believe me, if you’re looking for a good time, men are
everywhere
in New York.” She pointed at the bartender and lowered her voice. “That one, for example.”

Katrina’s eyes followed Brittany’s index finger. Kevin was at the other end of the bar, chatting with two women who were both smiling a bit too eagerly at him.

“You dated him?”

“
Dated
? No.”

Unsure how to respond to that, Katrina just said “Oh.”

Brittany shrugged. “He’s cute enough, but the sex wasn’t anything special, so that was the end of that. He makes yummy margaritas though, doesn’t he? Do you want another?”

Katrina looked down at her glass. It was still more than half full. “Oh, no, thanks. I’m okay.”

“You sure? You’ve been nursing that one for quite a while.”

“I’m sure. Thanks though.”

Brittany caught Kevin’s attention and ordered another drink, then turned to face Katrina and lowered her voice. “I think he’s still a little bitter that I blew him off, but whatever. I’ll tip him well if he actually lets me buy a round.”

Again, Katrina didn’t know how to respond, so she didn’t. Instead, she asked “What about now? Are you seeing anyone?”

Brittany waved a hand in front of her face. “Hon, I’m
always
seeing someone. It’s just a different someone every few weeks.”