Chapter Nine
Kat
Tuesday felt like it crawled on forever.
I was so excited about the following morning, when I would be on my way to Jonah’s house so that we could drive together to the site. Jonah wanted to get to the location early, and thankfully Vince had a scheduling conflict, so he was going to be driving himself separately.
Jonah and I would be alone, in a closed space, for nearly three hours.
It was just what I needed to figure out what was going on, because if I was being perfectly honest with myself, which I always tried to do, I was feeling a little confused by the time I left the office Tuesday afternoon. In my car, driving back to my apartment, I realized I hadn’t seen or heard from Jonah all day. I didn’t pass him in the hallway, nor did I see him grab some coffee. We had no meetings together, which also struck me as odd, since I figured that he would want to sit down at some point with Vince and me to make sure we had all the details hashed out for the following day. But no, that didn’t happen either.
Yesterday, I had worried he was potentially avoiding me, but now I was almost sure of it, and it made me think that maybe something had changed between us since Friday night. But that’s why the car ride was ideal; I would have plenty of time to suss out the situation and see what’s what.
Plus, I would wear one of my best outfits, one that showed off my legs, and then we would see just how well Jonah could ignore me.
Back home that night, I told Becca about the trip, and she insisted on helping me pick an outfit, ultimately making her late for her date with Paul. I reminded her of said date while trying on the third outfit option, and she just shrugged.
“I think I’ll call and cancel,” she said. “I’m sure he’s sick of waiting around for me, and he’d rather just go home and have a night in anyway.”
“How are you so sure of that?” I asked.
“I just know him.”
I frowned. “Don’t you think you should at least make sure that’s what he wants before you just decide for him? Maybe he’s been really looking forward to dinner.”
She sighed. “And what about whatIwant? You know, he always picks this restaurant when it’s his night to choose, even though he knows I hate it there. The food is terrible, and it’s all small plates and overpriced. But it’s his favorite spot, and he doesn’t even care that I always leave feeling hungrier than when we got there.”
“Then text him and tell him you want to go somewhere else. Paul isn’t unreasonable.”
She looked out the window and scrunched up her nose. “Nah. I think canceling is the right move. It looks like it might snow. I don’t want to be out in bad weather.”
“It’s not going to snow,” I said. “It’s way too early in the year, and I heard them reporting on my drive home from work that it’s supposed to be a lovely night.”
She ignored my comment and instead shifted the conversation back onto clothes. “I think you should do that top but with the other skirt. This skirt is too long.”
“It’s above the knee,” I said. “And this is a work thing. The other skirt might be too short.”
“No, that other skirt looks fine when you stand up, very professional, and you’ll be standing up in all the meetings, so you’ll be fine. It only looks too sexy when you sit down, which is perfect since you’ll be sitting in the car. Next toJonah.”
I smiled. “I never should’ve told you about my devious plan.”
“You must always tell me about your devious plans,” she said. “You know how much I love scheming.” She hopped off the bed and grabbed her phone. “Try on the combination I just suggested while I go call Paul and tell him I won’t be able to meet him.”
She left and I put on the outfit combo, and I knew right away Becca had hit the nail on the head. I looked great, with a neckline that was low but not plunging and a skirt that was perfectly acceptable when I was standing up, and just the right amount of enticing when I sat down. I would pair it all with my favorite spike-heeled booties and my checkered coat, and it would be flawless.
I admired my reflection in the mirror and smoothed out the front of the skirt. There was only one thing missing.
My favorite accessory.
I went over to my dresser and opened the small ornate box that lived on top of it. Inside, I kept only two pieces of jewelry, both from my mom. First, I had her grandmother’s engagement ring, which had been passed down from generation to generation, and which my mom left me in her will. The other piece was a necklace that she gave me for my 16th birthday. It consisted of a delicate gold chain and a single gold pendant in the shape of a tiny cat. Everyone always called me Kat, except her. She called me ‘kitten,’ all the way up until the day she died.
I put the necklace on and went back to the mirror.
There, now the outfit was complete.
I rubbed the pendant between my thumb and pointer finger and thought about the way my mom grinned ear to ear as she watched me open the box with the necklace in it.
“It’s real gold,” she said. “So be very careful with it.”