And I bet she was the belle of the ball wherever she went.
I’m no stranger to beautiful LA women, and Katelyn is in a class by herself. Now that she mentioned LA, I can totally see it. Light blond hair and blue eyes, beach body, perfectly creamy skin that looks good with any color of gown. Did she attend the Oscars on a celebrity’s arm? The Emmys? Grammys? Hollywood premieres?
I don’t doubt it, and a sliver of jealousy spikes into me. Odd. Not because I’m jealous. That’s normal. It’s even normal to want to pummel all the rich men who probably escorted her to galas and benefits. What’s odd is that I no longer have the urge to lock her away to keep her safe and under my control. Sure, I want to protect her, but within reason.
I’ve come a long way.
And that makes me smile.
“Do you want me to ask Lois if there’s a place for you at the restaurant?”
“I’ve never waited tables. And I’m horrible in a kitchen.”
“What about hosting?”
“I’ve never done that.”
“Hmm…I don’t know if you’re qualified. It requires a lot of wearing sharp clothes and looking pretty.”
“I’m sure there’s more to it than that.”
“Of course. Can you read?”
“I think I just told you I’m a high school graduate.”
“That doesn’t always mean much, but I was only kidding. I know you can read, Katelyn. That’s all hosting requires. You read the reservations list, or you take names. You answer the phone to take reservations, and you lead people to their table. I’m pretty sure none of that is beyond your capabilities.”
“As I recall, The Glass House already has a lovely hostess and a maître d’.”
“Sure. We have several. Doesn’t mean there isn’t room for another.”
She pauses a moment. “I’m not sure I’m good enough with people.”
“You were an escort, Katelyn. You must be good with people.”
Silence again. “Maybe. I can type, you know. I think I’d rather type.”
“And be stuck in a cubicle all day? Working at a restaurant would be a lot more fun. Plus, important people come in all the time. You probably already know this, but you’re gorgeous, Katelyn. Model gorgeous. Agents come in all the time looking for fresh faces.”
“I’m way too old to be a model.”
She may be right. I don’t have a clue about modeling. All I know is she’s the most spectacular-looking woman I’ve seen in a long time, including my time in LA, where spectacular-looking women threw themselves at me on a regular basis.
“I’m not looking to get discovered or anything,” she says. “I left LA to get away from all that.”
“And you came to Manhattan.”
More silence. She must know that her reasoning makes no sense at all.
Then again, I shouldn’t be in Manhattan either. I should be on a farm in a flyover state, but I couldn’t leave the city life totally behind, even though I hate New York.
“I have…friends here,” she finally says.
“The Wolfes?”
“Zee Wolfe, yes. She’s my friend.”
“How did you two meet?”
Silence again.
And this time she never replies.
9
Katelyn
Does he notice I don’t answer? It doesn’t matter, anyway, as we arrive at my building.
Luke’s eyes widen. “You live here?”
I nod.
“And you’re not working?”
“No, not at the moment.”
“How do you—”
“The Wolfes. Zee. She’s…loaning me some money until I get settled here.” I don’t like the lie, but I’m not ready to talk about why I’m really here. Luke will run away screaming.
“Good for you, then,” he says. “What floor are you on?”
“Ten.”
“I’ll walk you up.”
“No, that’s okay.”
Men aren’t allowed in this building. Okay, that’s not quite true. Fathers and brothers are allowed. Good friends. But we’re not supposed to bring dates here…because we’re not supposed to be dating.
“Katelyn, I don’t mind.”
“This building is very safe. Great security.”
At least that part isn’t a lie. I pull the keycard out of my purse. One card to get in the building. One for the elevator. One for my actual apartment. Plus a guard on duty inside at all times.
Is that normal? In Manhattan? I have no idea. Will it seem strange to Luke? I should ask Zee.
Except Zee is busy giving birth. She won’t be around to take my calls any time of the day anymore. She’ll be resting and caring for a newborn.
I exhale a long breath. I didn’t realize how much I’ve come to depend on her in just a few days.
She visited the retreat center on the island several times a month, but not the last two months because she couldn’t fly so late in her pregnancy. Still, she was only a phone call or text away.
I was one of the first women to leave the center. I still have a lot of healing to do, but I couldn’t be “kept” any longer. We were always free to leave the center. It was certainly more freedom than any of us had while we were prisoners. Still…I felt caged.