When I entered the living room, he was there, clinging to my jacket. I saw his white knuckles and pursed my lips. He wouldn’t just let me leave easily, would he? With a glare, I held my hand out.
“Can I have that? It’s cold.”
He stared at me for a moment before holding the jacket out. “It’s not what it seems, Kat. I don't think you’re like that.”
“But you do not think that enough to defend me to someone you hate, and you let them get in your head to convince you I want your money. Well, how’s this for wanting your money?”
I shoved my arms down the sleeves of my coat and stomped out the door, slamming it behind me. The instant I was standing on the street corner, I realized I’d have to stand there and wait for God-only-knows how long. Not having a car because I traveled so much was really awful in situations like this. The wind bit down on my skin, and I opened my Uber app to call a ride. Then I buttoned my jacket as high as it would go.
If he thought I was going to just sit around while he had second thoughts and treated me poorly due to his reputation being hampered, he had another thing coming. I had my own reputation to uphold now. And I had performances I should have been practicing for. But I had been spending all my time with him. It was time for me to refocus on what was important and that was my career.
I stood there shivering and waiting for the Uber, and when I heard the door to the house shut, I knew he was coming to talk to me. I did not turn around when he hung a blanket around my shoulders, but I accepted it. He put the strawberry preserves in my hand and shrugged.
“I’m sorry.”
I didn’t respond to him. We just stood in silence waiting for the Uber to arrive. When the driver pulled up, I handed him his blanket and nodded, then turned and climbed in
“I’ll call you, okay,” he called through the open window, but I was too upset to respond to him. The driver took off and I sighed in frustration. If Victor Beringher thought he could project his unresolved trauma onto me and make me feel like that then utter a simple “I’m sorry” and think that was good enough, then maybe I had been misled about him all along.
15
VICTOR
Ihad to admit, Andrew Barker was giving us a run for our money. Adam, Charles, and I were out on the range, shooting 18 holes to schmooze the guy and convince him our firm was the way to go. The problem was, he seemed to be a huge family man. Charles was married happily for over 30 years. Adam had a beautiful new bride—almost 3 years of marriage with one child on the way.
I, however, was a “loose cannon” that could be “wildly unpredictable.” Or at least that was Andrew’s assessment of what single, middle-aged men were like. He spoke strongly about it without even knowing anything about us personally, and from the vibe I was getting from the guys, they both wanted me to keep my mouth shut.
“Nice shot!” Charles poured on the praise a little thick after Andrew’s horrible slice. It was far from a nice shot, but then Charles didn’t really golf much, only when we had to wine and dine potential clients.
Andrew grunted and tossed his club at the caddy, who shoved it in the bag and loaded the bag onto the cart. The sun beat down on us, making us all a bit more irritable than we should have been. After a week of very chilly weather, today was the perfect weather for golfing, the warmest day in weeks. But my bed was still cold, Katherine keeping her distance for the past several days.
I strolled up to the tee and positioned my ball. My game today had been off and there was only one reason why. Kat was on my mind nonstop. I might have had the best reason in the world to mistrust her. I had been used by so many women it wasn’t funny. But I knew I had no reason to take that out on her. She hadn’t given me any proof that she was like her mother, or any of those other women either.
And I had fucked up.
The ball drove straight down the fairway, bouncing a few times in the green before rolling to a stop just before going into the rough. Not a bad shot, but not my best. I watched it until it stopped then put my club away myself. The caddy looked personally insulted by my actions until Adam called on him for his driver. I’d just as soon have passed on the day entirely just to go make it up to Katherine, but she was away at a performance out of state.
“So anyway, like I was saying earlier, I think husbands and fathers really understand the sacrifice a business owner goes through more than bachelors. You know? The sacrifices they have to make.” Andrew sat in the driver’s seat of the golf cart, waiting for Adam to take his shot.
I sat down next to him, and Charles slid into the second row, the caddy waiting on the back end with the clubs. As soon as Adam took his stroke, he climbed on, and we headed off down the fairway. Adam kept the conversation going. I wasn’t really much for talking today.
“Yeah, I get that. I think I agree. I have a whole new perspective now that I’m going to be a father than I had previously.”
Never having experienced that perspective, I thought Adam’s comment was a load of shit, but who was I to downplay his desire to sign this deal with Andrew. I kept my mouth shut. I definitely wasn’t the one who would seal the deal.
“I think I agree too. It makes sense. I was a loose cannon when I was younger.” Charles was older than Adam and me, so he did have a bit more perspective than either of us. That still didn’t discount what sort of a prude Andrew Barker was being, insisting a man couldn’t be a good businessman or leader unless Andrew’s family values aligned perfectly with his. It was a ridiculous notion. And if Adam hadn’t been so enamored of the man and his money, I’d have just called the deal off and sent Barker to Harwin Puschel just to get the man out of my hair.
“Yeah, so what about you, Victor? Wife? Kids?” Andrew pulled the golf cart up to the closest ball and Charles climbed out. Just as I was about to be honest and tell him I was not married and had no kids, his phone rang. “Oh! Hold on. It’s my wife.”
With a huge grin, Andrew scurried away, standing by a corpse of pine trees that provided windbreak for the hole. Adam smacked me on the back of the head, and I spun around to look at him. Adam’s scowl told me he was feeling the heat of a potential deal being blown, but I could care less. I didn’t even want to be there.
“You cannot tell him you’re single.” He took his hat off, raked his hand across his head then put his hat back on. Leaning forward, he talked in lower tones so Andrew could not hear our discussion. If we had to go through all of this to get a client, maybe we were doing business wrong. The wind gusted, cooling me slightly due to the sweat beading on my brow, and I rolled my eyes at him.
“Well, I can’t very well tell him I’m married. Lying to your client isn’t the best idea.” I shook my head. I shouldn’t have been with them. I should have flown with Kat to New York to watch her show. She had asked me, and I turned her down on account of closing this deal. It had been another nail in my coffin, and one that maybe went a bit too far. I hadn’t been to a performance yet, though I’d entertained the idea. The season for her shows in town was quickly passing, and she’d be traveling a lot more soon.
“Just tell him you’re engaged.” Charles slammed his club into the bag, and the caddy scowled at him. “It’s not really a lie. That little—”
“Think carefully how you speak about Katherine.” I cut him off, not really wanting to get into a fist fight with my almost-partner at a client meeting. Charles blanched and Adam stepped in.