Kat Attalla Special Edition (70 page)

She arched in, molding her body to his. He rested his hands on the small of her back and used his thumb to massage the line along her spine. Her warm breath tickled his neck as she teased him with her tongue.

"If you plan to make another mark on me, we best take this inside so you can leave it in a place that no one else can see it."

She sighed. "You keep making me offers like that, Jake, and I might have to find a way to stick around more often."

"That's the idea," he muttered, and made the first move towards executing his new plan of action.

Chapter Fifteen

The month of April flew by. Between the normal chores and the extra work of planting, Kate found precious few moments alone with Jake when he wasn't asleep. They spent most nights at her house, but that meant Jake had to get up even earlier to be back in his own house before Chloe woke up. Even the weekends, which they had designated to themselves, didn't always work out as they had planned.

Jake's resurgence into local society had brought with it a host of surprise visitors, and he didn't know how to get rid of them. In the small farming community, people looked out for one another. Jake had a small family compared to the size of his land. At least once a day someone would stop by to see if he needed help. The visits, although appreciated, took time away from the schedule Jake and Trevor had worked out so they wouldn't need help.

Kate wanted to be more useful, but her one attempt at learning to use the tractor was not something she would soon live down. They allowed her to plant a small vegetable patch in the backyard, she suspected, to keep her out of the way. Jake laughed when she borrowed books from the local library on crop rotation and soil fertilization, but she had the last laugh when her corn sprouted up faster than his.

By the first of May, life began to settle down a little, and Kate had to look for new excuses for why she hadn't found the courage to speak with Jake about Leather. Their relationship couldn't have been better, but she lived with the nagging suspicion that it could get worse. Jake's image of her as a subdued concert pianist was a world away from the woman the critics had dubbed the "Queen of Flash."

Next week she promised herself. Next week she would find a way to tell him. Having now found an excuse to push the worries into the back corner of her mind, she stepped outside into the morning air. The days had gotten progressively warmer since her arrival, and she no longer needed a jacket. She walked down to the edge of the road and picked up the mail from the box.

With her schoolbooks in one hand and a buttered roll in the other, Chloe ran out the front door. "Get your earplugs. They're fighting again," she warned Kate, and crossed the road to catch the school bus as it pulled up in front of the house.

"It was mine. You had no right to touch it," Jake snarled out as she walked in the kitchen door.

"It didn't have your name on it," Trevor snapped back.

She walked over to the counter and poured herself a cup of coffee, unnoticed by the feuding brothers. She couldn't imagine what they were arguing over this time, but she had learned not to interfere.

"That was the last piece, and you knew it was mine. You saw me leave it there last night."

"Do you want it back, Jake?"

Jake shoved Trevor's shoulder. "Don't be a pig."

"Then stop being a jackass."

Kate sat down in a chair and stretched out. "At 1east you're keeping it to farm animal insults." With hands at each other's throats, they both turned. "Don't stop on my account. There are still some wonderful animals left. Like chicken, bull, rat.
Turkey
is a good one, too."

"Which one were you referring to?" Jake asked.

"Both of you." While she waited for one of them to back down, she glanced through the mail. Identical twins with equally stubborn natures, neither one would give in. She pulled out one letter and waved it in the air. "Gee. A letter from the Division of Motor Vehicles. It looks like a driver's license."

"You win," Trevor said, and let go of Jake. He snatched the letter out of Kate's hand and tore it open like a four-year-old at Christmas. "I'm free. Give me the keys, Jake. I want to go for a drive."

"I have to go deliver a calf to Whitman's farm."

"I'll do it." Jake looked as if he was about to refuse out of spite, but Trevor added quickly, "I could make sure I'm gone until Chloe returns from school or I could spend the day with the two of you. Your choice."

Jake weighed the decision, turning a sweeping gaze in Kate's direction. He tossed the keys to Trevor and grinned. "You just got it back. Try not to lose it again on the first day."

"Don't worry. That would mean five more years of you." Trevor bolted out the door without a backward glance.

"So long, Trevor," Kate said to the closed door. "I have to be going, too."

Jake's silly smirk faded. "Going where?"

She rose and stood in the archway. "Down the hall to the bedroom."

"Oh," he said thoughtfully. "I'll meet you there after I've had a shower."

She acted shocked. "Alone? With water being so scarce? Don't you read the conservation pamphlets that are distributed?"

"I suppose, for the sake of the environment, you'd like to join me?"

"No. I'm being purely selfish. I'll never find a more perfect excuse for putting my hands all over your body."

Jake laughed and scooped her up in his arms. "I might be tempted to do the same."

"I'd be insulted if you weren't."

* * * *

Kate lay on her stomach and watched Jake while he slept. The clock on the bedside table ticked off the seconds, softly reminding her that she didn't have much time left. Chloe would be home in less than ten minutes, so she slipped off the bed and silently dressed. She pulled the blanket across Jake's magnificent body and left him sleeping. He needed the rest.

With one last glance, she closed the bedroom door and quietly left the house. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the cherry tree, and she reached out to grab a budding blossom in her hand. She sat on her front porch and gazed out over the fields of green geometric patterns. Daffodils and tulips lined the fence along the road in a swirl of colors and floral scents. Filled with a feeling of warmth, she clicked her heels together and whispered, "There's no place like home." One day she would write a song about this place.

Far back on the horizon she caught sight of an approaching car. Sure this was another friendly neighbor stopping by to visit, she smiled. She jumped down from the porch and walked down to greet the arrival. The sun cast a glare across the windshield. She couldn't see the driver until the car pulled alongside of her.

"Thank God it's you!" exclaimed the voice of the last person on earth Kate wanted to see.

Her stomach cramped. Why would Bill show up on her doorstep without calling? What if Jake woke up? "What are you doing here?"

Bill grimaced. "Your watchdog sister wouldn't give me your phone number, and I needed to speak with you. You don't think I would have come to a place like this if it weren't important, do you?"

She could well imagine that Bill felt as comfortable around a farm as Jake would feel in the city. "You should have left a message with Nikki. I would have answered it."

"I needed to see you in person. Where should I park?"

Kate glanced nervously at the big house, terrified that Jake would come out to investigate. "Next to the jeep."

She waited anxiously on the porch while Bill parked the car. He stuck his briefcase under his arm and crossed the road. His Italian leather shoe landed in a cow pie, and she laughed in spite of her tension. It served him right for showing up unannounced.

She ushered him into her house. "This better be good."

"It is, Katie. I promise."

Kate paced the room like a nervous feline. She resented Bill's intrusion in her private world. She had left her address strictly for an emergency. Out of professional courtesy, she read over the offer he came to show her. He had traveled a long way just to restate his old position and make new offers he knew she'd never accept.

"You know I don't do endorsements, Bill.”  Some stars made half their income plugging products they never used. Kate turned down all offers, needing neither the money nor the exposure.

"Kate, don't be foolish. We're talking about seven figures here. You wouldn't even have to talk. They just want a concert clip."

"No, Bill."

He tapped his finger repeatedly over the dollar amount written on the contract. Clearly Bill was too caught up in the money to notice how strongly she felt about this. "Their ad people have it all figured out. They want to use Betrayal." He held up an imaginary can in his hand and quoted, "Feeling betrayed by the calories of some soft drinks? Try this."

"They want to use a song about child abuse to sell diet soda?" Kate said, completely disgusted. "I'm not sure who's worse. You or them."

"The song's meaning has always been ambiguous. A betrayal is a betrayal. For God's sake, Kate, with the kind of money they're offering, who cares?"

"I do." She threw the papers back at him. Her body trembled with rage. He had no respect for her feelings, her music, or her past. The offer insulted Kelly's memory. "I would not lend my name or my music for ten times that money."

Bill's bloodshot face turned a brighter shade of red. "Maybe you can turn your nose up at that kind of money, but I won't."

"Then you do the commercial, because I not going to. If you've got nothing else to add, please leave."

His thick fingers grasped at her forearm and tightened painfully. "I won't let you kiss off that kind of money. This is what I did all that work for. You owe me."

She swatted his hand away and took a step back. "You? I was the one working sixteen hours a day, Bill. I was the one onstage night after night while you and Rosie sipped French champagne and siphoned off half my earnings as business expenses. And neither one of you saved a cent of what you made. I don't owe you anything. Now, get out."

For one frightening moment she feared Bill's temper. He took a menacing step forward but jerked back quickly when her front door opened wide. As threatened as she felt, she dreaded Jake meeting Bill even more.

Jake eyed the situation, finally resting his gaze on Kate's trembling hand. "Are you all right, Kate?"

"Yes. Bill was just leaving."

Bill grinned, and Kate saw the cruelty in his twisted lips. "Not before you introduce us, Katie."

"Get out of here." Kate regretted the outburst. Bill, who had known her so long, must have sensed she feared an introduction.

He turned towards Jake and offered his hand. "Bill Harris. Kate's agent."

"Jake Callahan."

Kate watched helplessly while Bill took control. "Kate, you should have told me you were involved with someone."

"Leave it, Bill," she warned, but Bill's greed had obviously overshadowed any sense of loyalty he felt towards his ex-client.

"Come on, Kate," Bill said smoothly. "He must be very special for you to put your career on hold to stay here."

Jake, misreading the tension, put an arm around her shoulder. "She's not ready to go back to work."

Bill gave Jake a good-old-boy pat on the back as condescending as it was phony. "Who said anything about work? They just want to use her music. One day in a studio at most for a voice-over."

Jake shrugged. "She's not interested. Have someone else do it."

"Send someone else," Bill repeated incredulously. "Now, that's rich. They aren't willing to pay that kind of money for just anybody. Lord, Kate, you would think he didn't know who you are."

"Shut up, Bill," Kate snarled.

"He doesn't know, does he?" A malicious delight rang in Bill's voice. "I'll admit you always were good at hiding that from people."

"Know what?" Jake asked. The gentle hold he had on her shoulder tightened as she tried to inch away.

Bill rested against the wall and twisted his fingers together, making that annoying cracking sound that sent chills right through her. "Oh, this is good. Imagine the field day the press would have with this, Kate."

Kate took the briefcase from the table and shoved it in Bill's hands. "Take your offer and stick it up your ass. Then check your own contract before you try to blackmail me. You have a gag order forbidding you from talking about me to the press for ten years after the expiration of our contract. You say one word and I'll nail you for every last dime you have."

Bill laughed. "Careful, Kate. Your middle-class roots are showing. What's next? Leather sings 'Old MacDonald's Farm' at the rodeo?"

"Leather?" Jake's confusion spread across his face.

She knew Bill wanted to get back at her for refusing the lucrative offer. She didn't care for herself, but Bill sensed that her only weak point stood right next to her. "Yes, Leather. Wake up and smell the manure, man. You're playing house with one of the hottest rock singers in the country."