Katwalk (2 page)

It wasn’t too late for her.

She and Deb had a few days to get ready. All she had to do was pack.

She sipped her drink and looked at her watch, then turned toward the entrance. Deb should have been here by now. Maybe her exit strategy hadn’t gone as smoothly. While Katrina had chosen to resign at lunchtime, Deb had planned to break the news later in the afternoon, when she thought it would cause the least drama. Deb hated drama even more than she hated her boss.

Katrina pulled her phone out of her purse to see if there was a text or a missed call.

Nothing.

She’s probably just caught in traffic. She’ll be here soon.

“You need anything else to drink?” the waiter asked.

Katrina smiled. “I’m good for now. Just waiting for a friend.”

As the waiter walked away, Katrina thought about the day, three weeks earlier, when she and Deb had made the joint decision to quit their jobs. Or, more accurately, the day Deb had convinced Katrina to quit her job. They had met up at their favorite sushi bar, Sushitomi, one evening after work.

Over a bowl of edamame, Deb complained about her unappreciative boss, and Katrina wondered out loud what would have happened if sh
e’d
had the nerve to stand up to her parents and pursue her love of art. As the waiter brought them a plate of California rolls and a sashimi platter, he smiled sympathetically and set down two steaming cups of sake.

“Sake’s on the house. Sounds like you two need something stronger than sushi tonight,” he said with a wink.

They both laughed and thanked him, but the moment he turned his back to walk away, Katrina pushed her cup toward Deb. As soon as she released her hand, Deb caught it and gave it a squeeze.

“He’s right, you know.”

Katrina nodded. “I’m not disagreeing with him. I just don’t drink sake.”

“I know, I know, you and your low alcohol tolerance. But I’m not talking about sake. I’m talking about us.”

“What?”

“
Us
. We need to mix it up.”

Katrina picked up a pod of edamame. “Mix up what?”

“Life. Our lives. We need to mix up our
lives
.”

“And how would we do that?”

“Let’s quit.”

“Quit what?”

“Our jobs.”

Katrina gave her a look. “Quit our jobs? Are you crazy?”

Deb squeezed her hand again. “I’m serious, Katrina. Let’s do it. What are we waiting for? Look at us. All we do is come here and complain about work, right?”

“Right.”

“But we never do anything about it, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, maybe it’s time. Maybe we should quit.”

“You’re really serious?”

“Yes. I mean, why not? We’re not married. We don’t have kids. Neither one of us is even dating anyone right now. What are we waiting for? Let’s quit and go do something adventurous before it’s too late.”

Katrina opened up another pod and thought about what her friend was proposing.

Quit and go do something adventurous before it’s too late.

She wondered what her parents would think of that idea. As the only daughter of two overachievers who valued a person’s work ethic above all else, the importance of getting a practical education had been ingrained in her since her days in a crib.

You need to be able to support yourself, Katrina.

Majoring in art history isn’t going to pay the bills, Katrina.

You need to get your head out of the clouds, Katrina.

You can’t expect a man to come along and rescue you, Katrina.

So getting a practical education was exactly what sh
e’d
done. Sh
e’d
chosen a major that would lead to a steady job, a predictable career path, a growing nest egg, and, eventually, a mortgage. Sh
e’d
done everything the right way.

The safe way.

The responsible way.

The
boring
way.

Until that moment.

She looked at Deb. “You really think we should do it?”

“I do.”

“What would we do?”

Deb shrugged. “I don’t know. We could go somewhere.”

“Could you be more specific?”

Deb downed her sake. “I don’t care. The beach. The mountains. The moon. Anywhere but Mountain View. I’ve had enough of Mountain View.” She set down the cup and tapped her palms against the table. “Wait. I’ve got it! Let’s go live in New York for a while.”

“New York?”

“Yes. Why not? You know what they say, right?
Everyone should live in New York at least once
.”

“Who says that?”

“I don’t know. People.”

“For how long?”

Deb picked up Katrina’s sake and downed it too, then set the cup on the table and tapped her chin with her finger. “I don’t know
. . .
a month? Maybe two? Two months sounds good. Yes, let’s do two.”

Katrina’s eyes got big. “Two months? Are you joking?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“No.”

“So there’s your answer.” She pointed to herself and shook her head. “Me. Not joking.”

“Two months is a long time, Deb.”

Deb waved a hand in front of her. “Please. It will fly by. If you want, you can sublet your place here to cover the rent.” Deb never seemed to worry about money the way Katrina did. But then again, she didn’t really need to. Her grandparents had made sure of that.

Katrina took a sip of water and considered the idea. Scary as it sounded, maybe Deb was right; maybe she
could
break out of her shell. Plus she hadn’t had an extended vacation in ages. Sh
e’d
started her job at the agency immediately after graduating from college, when most of her peers had gone traveling or at least taken the summer off to unwind after four years of books and exams.
Why wait to begin working?
her dad had said.
You’ve got to start supporting yourself,
her mother had agreed.

Katrina had listened to her parents, albeit reluctantly, and as a result, outside of one family trip to Washington, DC—which, frankly, had felt more like school than a vacation, given how structured it had been—she had never even left California. Sh
e’d
gone to college just down the road from home, earned a degree in accounting—with honors—then had taken the job with the advertising agency and become a full-time number cruncher barely one week after graduation.

“Are you with me?” Deb extended her hand.

Katrina hesitated.

“Well?” Deb kept her hand out.

Katrina stared at the edamame bowl and thought about the pit she felt in her stomach whenever someone asked her what she did for a living. Sh
e’d
been unhappy in her job for a long time, but for some reason it had never occurred to her to quit.

Not even once.

Quitting would be so
. . .
unlike
her.

Deb was staring at her, her hand still extended. “You can do it, Katrina. I know you can. It would be good for you to take a chance for once, to try something outside of that safe little bubble you live in.”

Katrina knew her friend was right, but she hesitated.

“Come on, you know I’m right,” Deb said. “And I say that thing about your bubble with love, by the way.”

“I know you do.”

Deb raised one eyebrow. “So what do you think? Are you in?”

Katrina took a deep breath.

Maybe this is just what I need.

She sat up straight and shook her best friend’s hand.

“Okay, I’m in.”

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” Deb finally came rushing up to the table nearly thirty minutes late. “Things got a little crazy at the office.” She took off her jacket and sat down, then looked around for the waiter. “I’m dying for a stiff drink.”

Katrina took a sip of Sprite and held up her guidebook. “No worries. I’ve been reading about all sorts of cool things we could do in New York. Did you know that in Central Park there’s a—”

Deb put her hand on Katrina’s shoulder. “I need to talk to you.”

Katrina froze, then squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh no. Don’t tell me.”

Deb kept her hand on Katrina’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Katrina was silent for a few moments, then opened her eyes and looked at her friend with a sigh. “Okay, let’s hear it.”

Deb stood up. “Let me get that drink first.” She hurried over to the bar.

Flush with panic, Katrin
a’s
mind began to race.

Is this really happening?

Is the rug really being pulled out from under me?

I just quit my job.

Her foot began to tap as one thought leaped in front of all the others.

What am I supposed to do
now
?

Deb returned, then pressed her palms against her temples for a moment before speaking. “Okay, here’s what went down. When I told my boss I was quitting, he offered me a big raise, right then and there. He didn’t even hesitate.”

Katrina raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes, along with that promotion I’ve been wanting for like a year. He said h
e’d
been planning to promote me at my next review anyway. Then he told me how he and all the other higher-ups expect me to be running my department one day.”

“But I thought he didn’t like you.”

“I did too, which is why I was so surprised. I thought he had it in for me, but you should have heard him when I told him I was quitting. He went on and on about how good I am at my job, finally showing me the respect and appreciation I’ve wanted for so long. He sounded so sincere I couldn’t help but believe him. He was close to
groveling
, Katrina.”

“Why didn’t he ever tell you any of that before?”

Deb lifted up her hands. “I know! Typical man. They never appreciate what they’ve got until they’re about to lose it, just like most of my ex-boyfriends. Anyhow, after he said all that, I couldn’t turn him down. I just couldn’t. I’m so sorry.” She made a pained face.

Just then the waiter appeared with Deb’s drink, a vodka martini. She immediately took an enormous sip—or gulp. “So do you hate me? If I were you, I think I might hate me.”

Katrina didn’t reply. Instead, she straightened up the coaster stack, which didn’t need straightening.

“Will you please say something? Even
I hate you
would be better than nothing right now.”

“Of course I don’t hate you. I could
never
hate you. I’m just disappointed that our big plan has sort of
. . .
imploded.” The truth was, Katrina was devastated, but she didn’t want Deb to know that. She didn’t want her to know that she was paralyzed with fear. At least before, sh
e’d
had a plan. Now she had
. . .
nothing.

But what was done was done, and she didn’t want her friend to feel any worse than she already did, so she maintained her polite exterior.

“I’m so sorry, Katrina. I truly thought they were never going to promote me. If
I’d
suspected there was even a baby chance they would counteroffer like that, I wouldn’t have let you quit your job. I never imagined it would turn out like this.”

“It’s okay. I know how much you wanted that promotion.” She also knew that despite Deb’s occasional gripe about not being appreciated by her boss, she enjoyed her event-planning job and was generally happy with her career choice. Katrina, on the other hand, couldn’t remember the last time sh
e’d
actually looked forward to going to work. Had she ever?

She certainly wouldn’t be going to work tomorrow. Sh
e’d
already cleaned out her cubicle and said good-bye to her coworkers—neither of which had taken very long—and turned in her security badge.

Plus she didn’t want to go back anyway. On that she was clear.

The question was, what would she do now? She knew she could probably find another accounting job in no time if she put her mind to it, but she had already sublet her place to a friend of a friend of Deb’s, a freelance writer from San Diego who was all set to move in on Monday. Plus she and Deb had already paid for the apartment the
y’d
rented in Manhattan, beginning Tuesday, and it hadn’t been cheap. Rearranging everything at the last minute was going to be not only complicated but expensive.

“Katrina? Are you there? What’s going on inside that smart head of yours?” Deb snapped her fingers in the air between them.

Katrina blinked and realized she was tapping her foot again.

“I hope you’re not thinking of ways to poison me,” Deb said.

Katrina tried not to laugh as she took another sip of her Sprite. “I’m not exactly thrilled with you at the moment, but I’ll get over it. I guess I’ll just need to find a new job a little faster than
I’d
planned to. And a place to live until Thanksgiving.”

“Why don’t you go without me?”

“Go live in New York for two months
alone
?”

“Sure. Why not?”

“Are you crazy? Do you even know me?”

“Do I look like I’m crazy? People go traveling by themselves all the time. Why can’t you?”