Текст книги "Katherine in Gold"
Автор книги: J. B. Hartnett
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KATHERINE IN GOLD
Copyright © 2015 J.B. Hartnett
All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, including electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the work of this author.
This is a work of fictions. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Formatted by Max Effect
CONTENTS
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Also by JB Hartnett
Contact the Author
FOREWORD
WARNING:
This story deals with a sexual relationship between a fourteen year old girl and an older man which may be a trigger for some people. The act is not detailed. But for some, this may be a little too much. Our main character is coming to terms that what she experienced was not normal and definitely not all right.
This is also a story containing sexual acts, coarse language, and love…
Always about the love with me.
I would like to make a special dedication to my long-time friend, Jenna Petrotta. She and I were roommates in Laguna Beach and her little place behind the high school was the original inspiration for Victoria and Katherine’s apartment. The time I spent in Laguna, living with her, were some of the most amazing years of my life, but even more amazing was the friendship I made with Jenna. So to you, my dear friend, lover of animals, and beautiful soul, thank you for always saying I can.
To my Kimbo, there are no words. You’re my friend, and your friendship is the greatest gift anyone could ever have. I love you.
To “the girls”…Karen, Nancy, and M.K. Thank you for everything. EVERYTHING. You each have your individual strengths that help me in my day to day life. Lucky, doesn’t even cut it.
A special thanks to the bestest, most awesomest beta EVER, Marilyn…you’re the badass of betas.
I’ve been so lucky to have great people supporting me from the very start. Lisa, Becca, Sandy, Coleen, just to name a few.
To all the bloggers who have been with me since the beginning, THANK YOU!!
Louisa M. Another beautiful cover, you rock!
Max Henry, another badass of the formatting variety, awesome!
To my editor, Nancy. As a writer and editor, great critique and suggestions…you will forever be known as the comma-Nazi, but your help is indispensable.
To Tina, BJ, and Mary…Dude (you’re all a bunch of whores).
And finally, to my readers, new and not so new. Sara, Amber, Josina, Lauren, Stacey…Rock Chicks. Every damn one of you. Thank you, for every word you read, for every review you write, for every tear you might shed…damn, I’m sure lucky you took a chance on my stories.
And always…
For Tara
MARCH
Katherine
I was a girl who had great friends. They were also sneaky fuckers.
“Another drink?”
“Diet Cherry Coke,” I replied. “And…” I stopped him by grabbing hold of his wrist. “Make it a strong one. You don’t need to be stingy with the magic cherry sugar sauce, ‘kay? And extra cherries on the side,” I added.
The bartender chuckled, grabbed a new glass, and made a great show of pouring in tons of syrup, then, filling it with a quick squirt of soda. He presented it to me with two straws and a rocks glass with about ten cherries…on the side.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” I laughed.
The bar was quiet. Only me and about five other people in the place. It wasn’t a usual haunt of mine, but I knew the bartender because he used to work at my normal watering hole.
“So…Kath…what brings you to South Laguna? Hiding from someone?”
“Ah, Nick, you know me too well.” I took my first sip of the drink and declared, “Whoa, that’s a lotta sugar. In about ten minutes, people are gonna think I’m doing lines off the bar.”
He only smirked at my comment as two customers left. He then turned his attention to me again. “You okay? You don’t normally come in here, and I’d know if you came in here.”
Nope, I wasn’t okay.
“Has our therapy session started already?” I joked, pretending to look at the time.
“Up to you, Kath. None of my business, but, it’s a slow night, already finished the book I was reading, bar is stocked…I have time.” He grinned.
“All right.” I rolled my eyes, but I really was grateful for the ear. I needed to get some shit off my chest, and I couldn’t talk to my big mouth bestie, either.
He threw a white towel over his shoulder and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”
“So…I’ve lived here all my life, and my big dream has always been to have my own café.”
He raised one bushy eyebrow and looked me over. “You sure? I’d open a place with you. Hell, customers would come in just to see you.”
“Well, had you mentioned that maybe, oh, five hours ago, I might have considered it.”
“What happened five hours ago?”
“I met the man I think I might have to kill…also, my potential business partner.”
“You wanna tell me a little more?” He chuckled.
“He calls me Katherine. I hate that!”
“Is that it?”
“Well, it’s like this: I told my best friend about my big dream…that I wanted to open a café; I just didn’t want to do it alone. I have the drive, I’m great with customers, and I know I can secure a business loan without digging into my savings. So, Tori…you remember Tori?”
“Giggly and talkative when she’s had a few. Yep.”
“Tori tells all this to our friend, Dee. She runs that bridal boutique, Beachy Bride?”
“Yeah, I know the place. Up from the tattoo shop?”
“That’s right. And Dee has this thing going with Frodo who works at the tattoo shop.”
Nick lifted the sleeve of his tee. “He did this tat for me.”
I studied the skull memorial for someone named Joseph. “Nice.” And it really was. From what I’d seen, Frodo was an incredibly talented artist.
“So…”
“Right,” I said, and took a sip of my drink, so sweet my eyes fluttered as the sugar absorbed into my teeth and bloodstream. “Anyway, Frodo was giving some guy a tattoo and that guy happened to be leaving his job in San Clemente…and get this…” I laughed. “He apparently worked in a hotel running their café and restaurant, and, for some insane reason, decided he wants to relocate and open a place here in Laguna.”
“So, you told him fifty-fifty?” he asked.
I stuck my hand into the cherries and popped one in my mouth. “We haven’t gotten that far in negotiations yet. But he did give me a key to look around the place.”
Nick leaned in on his elbows. “So, what’s the problem?”
I looked at the near empty pink and brown remnants of soda and admitted, “He reminds me of the man who took my heart and never gave it back. That right there makes me kinda hate him. But then there’s this other part of me that…. I mean, that doesn’t happen twice in a lifetime, does it? Fate…she’s kind of an asshole. Like one of those mean bitches in high school that everyone hated, but were also terrified of her and the power she wielded over them.”
“Yeah. Fate’s a real bitch,” he agreed.
“Tori got engaged,” I explained.
“Losin’ your wing-woman.”
“She’s happy, and besides, I have a boyfriend now.”
Nick raised his eyebrows in surprise.
“Shut up. So, this guy shows up to meet me in person. He’s pretty enthusiastic about this café thing, and I don’t know what came over me, but he said black, I said white, and he didn’t take my shit. I mean, I was throwing full on attitude and it just slid right off of him.”
“Were you testing him?” he asked.
I ignored his question. “You know who he is?”
“Nope.” Nick chuckled.
I popped another cherry in my mouth. “He’s Clint Eastwood. He’s all calm and cool. Eastwood-Zen, that’s what he is… and he’s hot. He’s tall, which is a plus since I’m Katherine the Giantess in heels, and, Jesus! I don’t know why I’m even stressing about this. I have a boyfriend!” I yelled.
“Sounds like you have a real predicament.”
“I want to do this café thing. The plus side, I know all my neighbors. I’ve got a support team to keep my crazy in check all around me. Tori’s house is just a flight of stairs away. The tattoo shop is next door, and those guys are all right. Dee’s at the bridal shop upstairs, and Tori’s stationery shop is next to that. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?”
“Well,” he looked at my near empty glass of cherries, “if you’re lucky, you could keep up this diet of sugar-syrup soda and let your teeth rot. That’s bound to keep any potential business and pleasure mixing at bay. I mean, I hate to break it to you, Kath, but most guys aren’t into toothless women.”
“You’ve been a tremendous help, Nick.”
“I’m a listener.” he laughed. “Not a problem solver. ‘Eastwood-Zen’…I like that.”
Yeah, I like it, too.
And that scared the fuck outta me.
JULY
Katherine
“It all started with this dress.” Tori giggled as she explained her gown to some random wedding guest. One hand brushed the cascade of bright, peachy tulle; the other hand went to the chest of her new husband, Cam.
Me?
I was proudly clad in my maid-of-honor gear: solid blush pink from the little hat thing on top of my head to the matching satin, open toe shoes. From the front, it looked like a tailored suit with a simple cap sleeve, but the back was completely open…a definite undergarment challenge to hold up the girls.
My best friend, Tori, and her soulmate, Cam, had just celebrated their “formal” wedding. They’d been married a few months back when Tori did the chick thing and freaked, certain something would go wrong. In response, Cam rallied the troops—friends and family—and within three hours of Tori’s meltdown, we were at the county clerk’s office to make it official.
“You know,” I said to one of the catering staff. “There’s nothing about the groom I don’t like. Except, he doesn’t really seem to find my suggestion that Tori and I could be sister-wives nearly as entertaining as I do.”
“Kath.” Cam’s mom giggled at my comment. I’d learned this was a woman I could be straight with. “He’s so in love with her.”
“Yep,” I agreed. “That he is.” He adored Tori, and what more could I want for her? “I love this, I love how happy they both are, but, I gotta be honest with you, Paula. Sometimes, I look at them and kinda tilt my head and make that aww sound. You know the one you use for cute babies and puppies?”
“Yes.” She laughed. “I know the very one.”
“Then other times I’m like, ‘You know what? Fuck you.’”
We both laughed at my well delivered and good intentioned observations, but there was more truth to it than I wanted to admit to Paula Muir. That kind of happiness, though it was a beautiful thing, was completely and totally unfair to the rest of humanity. Not to mention unrealistic. It gave false hope to those who would either never have it, or people like me, who’d already had it, never to experience it again.
And that sucked.
“I’ll see ya later, Paula. You know how weddings are supposed to be the place you meet your future husband?”
She nodded and sipped her glass of champagne.
“Yeah, that’s a big lie. Anyone single at this shin-dig is looking to get laid. And since I already have a…person for that, I’m gonna drink instead.”
I’d been dating Mark “Goya” Espinoza. Total pain in my ass, but damn, the man was great in bed. I didn’t invite him as my date, and this pissed him off. I’d been completely straight with him from the beginning. There was no future between us. It was fun until it wasn’t, and then…that was it.
He didn’t like that answer.
I looked at all the people, smiling, laughing, happy, and grabbed a nearly full bottle of tequila off the bar. The caterers didn’t even blink since I’d made sure they were fed and got regular smoke breaks throughout the night. I found the bride and groom and tugged on Cam’s free arm, the one that wasn’t wrapped protectively around Tori’s waist.
“Hey.” I grinned as he smiled back at me. “Can I steal you a minute?” Damn, so good looking. I wasn’t hot for my bestie’s man or anything, but there was no other way around it; the man was fine.
“Fairy,” he said quietly in Tori’s ear. “Be right back.”
Cam respected the bond Tori and I shared, and because of that, I felt…I don’t know how to explain it…almost like he was an extension of that bond. I was glad, really, because it meant I’d gained another great friend.
He followed me down their front steps and through the green gate that opened to Pacific Coast Highway. There were two businesses to our left. One was Coastal Ink, the tattoo shop. Next to that was an old office, the site of the proposed café…the one I was apparently opening with a guy named Holst.
“You okay?” Cam asked.
“Yeah,” I lied through my teeth. “Can you tell the girls I had to go? I need to spend some time with this here bottle of José, and,” I leaned in to whisper, “he likes it to be just the two of us.”
Cam studied my face then turned his attention to the empty shop. “You gonna do it?”
I let out a long, dramatic sigh. I had so much shit to think about, it wasn’t even funny, so I gave Cam the short list.
“Well, part of the reason I need some alone time with the Cuervo, I have some shit to sort out. For one thing, I have a,” I cleared my throat, “boyfriend who wants to take things to the next level.”
“His art does not make me feel happy,” Cam interrupted. “I know he said we could have a painting as a wedding gift, but honey, let your gift to us be making that offer go away,” he pleaded with a smile and a furrowed brow.
“Done,” I smiled back, stifling a giggle.
“What else do you have to sort out?”
I held my free arm up to the filthy windows of the old office. “This. I’ve always wanted my own café. Always. And I never wanted to do it alone. Holst has the experience I don’t, so in theory, it’s perfect.”
Holst. Even his name gave me anxiety.
Cam gave me a second, but only a second, before he asked, “You gonna tell me the reason it isn’t perfect?”
And that was the moment I opened that place deep inside me and shared just enough to make the pain visible and let Cam see it. “He reminds me of someone, and I don’t know if that’s such a good idea for me.”
He’d seen me cry, once. Tori, never. I kept my emotions on a tight leash. But Cam made me feel safe enough to share, so I decided to give a little more.
“Every time he opens his mouth, I turn into a crazy person.” Yeah, the crazy person being the vulnerable girl I was at twenty. That’s who I became every single time I was around Holst. “Anyway,” I said, trying to shake off the heavy, “take care of my girl. I’m gonna spend some time in this dump and see if it speaks to me through the power of Cuervo.”
In hindsight, I should’ve snagged the Patron.
“You know where to find us. Don’t worry about the time. If you need us, Kath, we’re right upstairs.”
“Your wedding night?” I chuckled. “That’s so not gonna happen. Night, Cam. And congratulations,” I said warmly.
I then took the key Holst had given to me to “look around the place” and opened the door to find two huge, leather chairs. I locked the door and uncapped the bottle in my hand. After the first swig, I looked at one of the beckoning big, empty chairs. As the liquor took effect and the emotions I’d held onto began to let go, I spoke to the only man who’d ever really known me. Thirteen years and still, I wished he was there to guide me.
“Think I should do it?” I asked.
The other chair didn’t answer.
And it wasn’t long until my tears, washed down with tequila, put me to sleep.
Katherine
I felt…cozy, and it occurred to me this was the opposite of what I should be feeling. I wasn’t a stranger to drowning my sorrows in alcohol, but in the last six months, I’d taken stock of my life—soon after I was sure Tori and Cam were absolutely gonna make it—and when I did, I came to some hard truths. The most important of those, I needed to take better care of myself, physically and emotionally.
I’d always had the habit of going for long walks the day after a big night on the booze. I left the comfort of my soft bed, downed some Advil, and stepped outside. Absolutely nothing beat sunshine and fresh air to remind your body it was alive…even if you felt like death. Now, I hadn’t been drinking, which meant I hadn’t been exercising much. But the lack of drinkable calories seemed to even out, and, thankfully, I hadn’t put on weight. Not much, anyway.
Because I’d been abstaining, I thought I’d feel horrid after my tequila-transfusion, but as I began to stretch, I felt something heavy draped over me, my shoes were off, and the distinct aroma of coffee permeated the air.
Then I heard the gentle turn of a newspaper page, and that’s when I knew…
I wasn’t alone.
Fuck.
“Are you awake, Katherine?”
Holst.
I’d come to the empty café space for solitude. If I’d gone home, I knew eventually Goya would stop by and expect sex and answers from me. I was happy to provide the sex, the answers to his questions, not so much.
“I’m awake,” I replied, and if my eyes were open, I would’ve rolled them. No matter what I said to the contrary, Holst insisted on calling me by my full name, and I fucking hated that.
“I came in about half-past seven; decided to let you sleep. Your skin was like ice, so I left, grabbed a blanket from my trunk, came back, and covered you up. Then I went to get us coffee and breakfast.” He paused before he added, “And a newspaper.”
When Tori and I became roommates, we both decided to get jobs in town. Tori landed a gig at Tresso, a huge giftware place on Forest Avenue. Through her, I got a job at Greg Tresso’s smaller shop called Grizzly, right on Pacific Coast Highway. Grizzly sold California-themed merchandise, most of it handcrafted and geared toward the wealthy tourist.
I loved my job, and Tori loved hers, our boss was a fantastic guy, but I think most people would love to be their own boss. Tori was the first to follow her dream. Tresso had a huge stationery range and sold invitations, but Laguna didn’t have a shop specifically for that. So, Tori opened one, right next door to Beachy Bride. She hired a gal named Ruby, who made all sorts of party favors, to specifically match the invites. Whether it was a bar mitzvah or a divorce party, she and Ruby designed entire packages to accommodate the customer’s needs, from the invite down to the decorations.
This left me with the opportunity to manage Tresso. It was a much bigger store and more responsibility. I could handle it. I could handle it with my eyes closed and juggle flame throwers. My point being, it didn’t challenge me.
But my friends were kind of like meddling, nosy neighbors, and Dee was possibly the worst offender. She managed Beachy Bride and had this weird thing going with Frodo down at Coastal Ink. The guy was an incredible tattoo artist and seemed to be smitten with our Dee. Unfortunately, she’d been burned by an ex, and I hoped she got her head out of her ass before her chance with Frodo was gone.
Because he was a fantastic guy.
He also told me about his tattooed client with cash to burn and a dream to open a coffee shop in Laguna. It wasn’t lost on me that Laguna Beach needed another café like a hole in the head, but the old office I was sitting in was right next door to the tattoo shop, two doors away from my best friend’s front gate, and just a flight of stairs down from a popular bridal and stationary shop…this part of Laguna was café-light. There was a taco joint not far away, and, truth be told, I’d probably take the taco over coffee before someone jabbed my skin multiple times with an ink-filled needle. Still…if I stood on the sidewalk and looked around, there were five small hotels, tons of apartments, houses…and a surf shop.
The café would be a success.
But the memory of a conversation I’d had with my dad last time he breezed through town invaded.
“What are your plans for the future, Katherine?”
“Well…” I bravely and honestly replied, “I’d like to open my own little café eventually.”
“Not with my money you’re not. I don’t want your failure tied to the family. Understand me?”
I tried not to let his negativity affect me. But seeing as how I’d just secured a small business loan using the apartment building he gave me as collateral, I couldn’t fuck it up.
“Katherine,” Holst called. “When you’re ready, I have the business proposal here. We can start the meeting whenever you like.”
Yeah, he’d called three days ago and said he was ready, made this date with me the day after Tori and Cam’s vow renewal, and I’d texted back, “Fine, whatever, see you then.” God, I was such a bitch to him, and I swear, my behavior was completely out of my control.
“Coffee was mentioned?” I asked.
He pushed off from the desk where he’d been reading the paper and silently handed me a cup. That first taste was fucking glorious. He stood above me, looming. Maybe waiting for a thank you, which would’ve been the polite thing to do. There was only one problem with that: I’d have to make eye contact, and to make eye contact, I’d have to look at him, and when I did that, the crazy in me woke up from her long slumber, slapped on her bitch-amour, and spoke for me. But with no other option…
I looked up at him.
Holst had one of those year-round tans which prompted me to ask, “Are you always this tan?”
He smirked. “Yes. I’m always this tan.”
I knew he was an avid surfer, outdoorsy kinda guy, so I was sure that helped. But he was just naturally tan. His hair looked dark when he was indoors, but I’d seen it in the sun, which accented these amazing highlights. Bastard. I’d kill for natural highlights like that. He was lean, not a solid mountain like Cam and his brother, but it was easy to see that his height and broad chest, well…there was nothing weak about him either…and I wanted to paint him with my tongue.
His caramel eyes smiled down on me as he asked, “Katherine, is there something on your mind you would like to share with me?”
“No,” I quickly returned, and, it took a lot of doing on my part, but I kept any tempting smartass comments to myself.
“All right then.” He grabbed a folder from the desk, opened it, and handed it to me. “Take all the time you need.”
I sat up and put my coffee cup on the floor. A quick flip through all the pages told me Holst had thought of absolutely everything: suppliers, cost, employees, menus…but all of that seemed unimportant when I flipped to a black and white sketch of the interior of the café…or what would be the café when it was done.
“Did you draw this?” I asked, not hiding the shock in my tone.
“There’s one more sketch, and no, I didn’t. I had Frodo help me with that.”
The first time we met, he was cool as Clint Eastwood. All that did was make me more combative.
“I was gonna say you’re talented, but I was wrong,” I mumbled.
“Oh, I have other talents.” He grinned.
“Yeah, I bet you do. I bet you’re good at lots and lots of things.” I was being sarcastic, of course, and I knew he was staring at me. I could feel his eyes on me like lasers.
“I will treasure that back-handed compliment until I take my dying breath, Katherine.”
“Keep calling me Katherine and that dying breath might come quicker than you think,” I rallied, thankful the coffee was bringing me back to my good ole self again.
“There she is.” He smiled wide, and fuck him for having perfectly straight, white teeth.
“What kind of espresso machine did he draw here? It looks…”
“Like the Maserati of espresso machines,” he told me, and that was a pretty good description. “For the price, it might as well be. But I think the reliability and quality would be worth the investment, considering the business we’d lose if it broke down all the time. And the company that supplies them is in Irvine, so if something did go wrong, they could bring us a replacement or service it quickly.”
It was then I looked back at the drawings. They looked like the inside of a log cabin. The picture depicted all the décor of a California mountain getaway with old-fashioned snow shoes, vintage signs, and old glass bottles. I could see his vision, and, lifting my eyes to the room, I asked, “You have a name?” When we’d spoken before, I hated every suggestion he made.
“I do indeed.” He grinned.
“And that is…?” I prompted.
“You worked at Grizzly, the state flag has one on it, so I thought Bear Claw had a nice ring.”
Bear Claw. Perfect for a “coffee shop” that sold pastries with a California theme.
Then I made a decision.
I could be professional, I knew I could. Part of taking better care of myself was to take a risk. And though I was sure Holst calling me Katherine would never cease, I could suck it up. I wasn’t going to let the ghost that lived in my heart or the negativity of my father hold me back from following my dreams. When I felt I could talk again without exploding from excitement, I gave him my decision.
“Drop off whatever I have to sign at my place and give me a couple of weeks to train someone at Grizzly.”
He seemed shocked I’d given my answer so easily.
“You’re sure?”
Well, I was sure about being partners in the business. I was sure I could put my all into it and make it successful. I was sure I didn’t want to do it alone. The only thing I wasn’t sure about was him.
“One thing to know about me, Holst: when I give my word, I never go back on it. Not ever.” Then I moved my stiff body from the chair and walked to the door. “Thanks…for the coffee.”
“Anytime, Katherine,” he called, and, as much as I hated to admit it, the way he said it was growing on me.