The Almost Wives Club: Kate (4 page)

Kate wasn’t a movie star; she wasn’t royalty. She’d believed that all she had to do was tell Ted she wasn’t marrying him and get on with her life. Apparently, it wasn’t going to be that easy.

Even as she went to put her phone away it began ringing. It was Ted’s special tone. They’d made a custom ring out of the John Mayer song that had been playing when he proposed. Now the notes made her sick. She let the call go to voice mail and then wiped her phone.

It was almost brand new. Ted’s office had a plan and he’d put her on it. She rose and walked to where the surfers were packing up. “How were the waves?”

“Amazing. But we gotta head back for work. Which sucks.”

You could track cell phones. She thought about giving the kids her phone but didn’t want anyone thinking they stole it. She decided to put it in the courier instead. She found a UPS outlet and sent her phone, after some deliberation, to Miami. Maybe they’d hire the lying PI from Seattle to trace it and he’d follow her phone all the way to Miami. That would make her happy. Except, now, she wished she’d sent it to somewhere a lot farther away and more dangerous.

Then she treated herself to breakfast on the pier and decided that she was going to have to get more serious about hiding out, at least until the wedding had truly been cancelled.

She got back on the road, still heading south. She could be in Mexico in a few hours.

She called Lissa on a pay phone outside a liquor store. When she identified herself, Lissa said, “No, you can’t have your car back. Finders keepers.”

She smiled. “Are you kidding? I love your car.” She glanced at the faded blue paint, blistered in a couple of spots with rust. “It’s got personality.”

She chuckled, deep in her throat. “You are seriously deranged, you know that, right?”

“Look. You’re a counselor and you do great work with the girls. Could you counsel me?”

“Seriously? You want me to give advice to Miss Perfect?”

“Miss Perfect? Is that how you see me?” She was a mass of insecurities and contradictions.

“That’s your nickname with the girls. You didn’t know?”

She sighed, realizing that she’d presented an image the world that wasn’t close to true. “No. I didn’t know.”

Lissa’s voice changed, it softened. “Okay, I’ve got fresh coffee and I’m sitting down. Prepare to be counseled. But I’ll tell you what I tell the girls. I don’t do ‘poor me’ and I don’t care if you’re a victim. Show me what you’ve got. How are you going to stand in your own power?”

“You tell that to the girls?”

“Damn straight. You think you’ve got it tough?”

Kate felt instantly ashamed. “No. I don’t. I’ve been blessed with so much, I shouldn’t even be wasting your time. I’m sorry.”

“Whoa, not so fast. Just because you’re a rich, entitled white chick doesn’t mean you don’t have problems. So, spill.”

She took a deep breath. “I’m a coward.”

“So? We’re all cowards one way or another. Remember what I said. I don’t do victims.”

“Right.” Don’t think like a victim. “What’s the opposite of a victim?”

“What do you think it is?”

“Really, Lissa? Are you one of those kinds of counselors? Turning everything into a question and batting it back at me?”

“You want to drive your ass back to LA and get a real therapist? Be my guest.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.” Cars drove by with a dull, monotonous roar. She had to be in one of the last remaining telephone booths in North America, and this one could use an upgrade. The glass was dirty, the phone dented, and she was glad she always carried hand sanitizer. She’d doused the phone with it before putting it near her head.

“The opposite of a victim. Victor? A winner?” She sighed. “I don’t want to win against Ted.”

“Maybe Ted’s not the one you’re fighting,” Lissa said softly.

“So, you don’t turn everything into a question and bat it back,” she said with a smile.

“My approach is multi-disciplinary.”

“Who am I fighting?” she repeated the not-quite-a-question aloud. “Is it my mother?”

“Is it?”

She let herself think about it and then the truth hit her. “It’s not my mother, is it? It’s me.”

“You know what happens when you try to run away from yourself? You do a lot of running but you don’t get far.”

“You think I should come back? Stand up to them?”

“Actually, I don’t. Until you figure out what you’re doing, you’re going to fall back into your old patterns. I think you’re going to get braver. But you need some time.”

Her last few weeks flashed in front of her eyes in a series of images, like a movie montage. She saw herself reflected in the mirror in the wedding dress, Evangeline pushing her breasts up to fill a dress she was never going to fit.

She found herself telling Lissa about that last fitting, the curse, the gel pads. All of it. “That dress was like a metaphor. It wasn’t meant for me. I faded away in that dress. I literally got lost in it.”

“Okay. That’s a good insight. In a way, that pin burst your fantasy bubble, too. Didn’t it?”

A truck rolled into the liquor store parking lot and a guy in a ball cap got out, strode to the store and went inside.

“Oh, my gosh. You’re right.”

She pictured her dinner with Ted, when she’d tried to leave with him and he’d essentially told her to act more like his mother. She gasped as she realized that was what she had been headed for. The life of Millicent Carnarvon. Society wife, yes woman, and all around doormat.

A string of other scenes flashed.

“Maybe it’s not me I’m running away from. It’s Miss Perfect.”

“Really? And what are you going to do about that?”

The guy in the ball cap emerged with a six back of beer. As he sauntered past he gave her the once-over.

And there it was. The perfect solution. “I’m going to kill Miss Perfect off.”

“Hold on there, honey. Let’s not get carried away.”

“No. I am. Lissa, you are brilliant. That’s it! Don’t you see? Ted and Ted’s family want me to join the family firm. They think I’ll be a real asset because I’m so squeaky clean.”

“That’s because you are.”

She shook her head feeling a sense of power begin to surge up from deep within her. “That’s who I used to be. Ted and his family want me because I’m so untouchable. But the best way to let them know I am not the wife they want is to destroy my own reputation.”

“Look, Kate, you’ve been under a lot of stress lately. I’m all for you taking a little break, but don’t do anything stupid. Anything you’ll regret.”

She felt as though a window had opened somewhere and she was finally breathing freely. “You know what I regret? I regret how much of my energy I’ve wasted trying to please other people.”

“Speaking of which, have you told our esteemed boss lady your plans? Because she’s going to wonder if you don’t show up Monday morning.”

“My next call,” Kate said, suppressing a groan.

Allison Timberlake was a wonderful woman. A charitable and tireless workhorse. She was also humorless and so politically correct that Kate kept her sentences short and factual to avoid one of Allison’s tiresome lectures.

Even though she worked as hard as anyone, she knew that Allison looked down at her for marrying into ‘the establishment’. Also, for wearing lipstick.

She called Allison’s work number and even though it was a Saturday, the woman picked up immediately.

“Allison, it’s Kate.”

“Why, hello Kate. Congratulations. I just heard the good news. Our funding’s in place for another year. Sending individual letters to every board member was a brilliant idea.”

Kate let out a sigh of relief as one chunk of stress fell off her shoulders. “I’m so glad to hear it. I was hoping. But I’ve also got other grant proposals ready to go and some ideas for fundraisers. But I wanted to ask you a favor.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“I’m wondering if I could take my holidays now, instead of in three weeks as I’d planned.”

There was a beat of silence and she felt the stress start climbing back up her spine.

“Look, Kate, I’m glad you’ve called. I was going to talk to you next week anyway. You know better than anyone how tight our budget is. I don’t think we can afford a full-time fundraiser.”

What?
“But you just complimented me on my work.”

“Oh, please don’t misunderstand me. You do excellent work. Outstanding. But with your upcoming marriage, you obviously won’t need the modest salary we’ve been paying you. I’m very much hoping you’ll consider continuing your work as a volunteer. Naturally, you wouldn’t need to come to the office and put in long hours, but you could be so valuable in promoting our work to your husband’s colleagues and your social friends. Particularly the wives.”

“Allison? Are you firing me?”

“No. Of course not. We’re eliminating your position.”

Kind of the same thing from where she stood.

 ***

Kate spent a lot of time walking beaches. She stopped whenever she felt like it, drank coffee, browsed surf stores and junky tourist places. And then she’d get back in her car and make her way generally south. Mexico seemed complicated. She didn’t speak Spanish and she didn’t feel like anything complicated. San Diego was too busy. She felt so raw it was like her skin had been stripped off. She couldn’t handle busy. She wanted a quiet place near the ocean where she could walk on the beach, listen to the waves soothe her. Where she could think. Heal.

In twenty-four hours she’d broken her engagement and lost her job. She figured she was allowed to wallow.

When she pulled into Carlsbad late that afternoon, she knew she’d found her place.

The beauty of Carlsbad was that it was only an hour and a half from LA. They’d never in a million years think she’d end up there. It was too close. But no one she knew lived in or visited the seaside resort town which made it the perfect hiding place. She hoped that by the time the Carnarvons and their hired detectives discovered she wasn’t in London, Sydney, Las Vegas, New York or Miami, she’d have a better idea of what she wanted to do.

Ever since she ended her call with Lissa she’d felt that sense of power and freedom she’d experienced in that decrepit phone booth. She wouldn’t think about losing her job, not now. She’d find another job. For now, she could take a vacation for as long as her money lasted.

Ted and his family wanted a virtuous wife so badly they’d tested her. The best and most permanent way she could think of to make them understand that she would not be marrying Ted, not now and not ever, would be to act as unvirtuous as possible.

Kate, who had spent every one of her twenty-eight years as a good girl, was going to be a badass.

Carlsbad might not be the bad girl haven, but she figured a woman determined to ruin her reputation could do it anywhere.

Besides, she liked the atmosphere when she drove in for coffee. She found an apartment listed on Craigslist that was half a block from the beach. It was a little shabby but fully furnished. The landlord rented her the vacation apartment for a month. She paid in cash.

He accepted her friend Lissa as her only reference. He said she had an honest face.

Nick couldn’t settle. As a private investigator, he spent a lot of time trailing unpleasant people doing unpleasant things who deserved to be exposed for whatever bad behavior they were engaged in, whether cheating on a spouse, selling company secrets, using disability payments to fund their golf game, or any other of a hundred deceitful activities a human being could engage in.

And then he’d been hired to try and seduce a nice woman. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Kate since he’d returned to Seattle.

He hadn’t wanted the job. He’d taken it to help out an old friend. And, in a bitter twist of fate, he’d fallen for his old buddy’s woman. He’d fallen hard and fast. And the irony was that because she was a decent, loyal woman, he didn’t have a chance in hell with her.

He was glad he was busy because work distracted him from a pair of big blue eyes, a mouth made for kissing, a trim body and—

He’d given Kate his business card. Stupid, foolish thing to do, but he had and every time his phone rang he hoped against hope it might be her.

But, in two days she hadn’t called. The woman was getting married. He had to accept that she wasn’t going to call. Which made him a lot less courteous on the phone.

“Mansfield.” Nick answered the phone curtly hoping to convey to whomever his secretary had put through that he was in no mood for chit chat. If they had a problem he’d solve it, a missing person, he’d find them, evidence to be gathered, he was on it. A bride to test for fidelity, he was your man.

The last statement had his frown deepening. And only getting heavier when the caller identified himself as Ted Carnarvon.

“Ted. What can I do for you?”

As he listened to his old college roommate relate how Kate had not only overheard him giving his report, but had thrown Ted’s fat diamond engagement ring in his face, his scowl lightened.

By the time Ted said, “She’s disappeared and no one can find her,” the scowl had reversed itself to a broad grin.

“That’s really too bad, Ted,” he said, barely attempting to conceal his contempt for a man who had so little faith in the woman he was about to marry that he set her up to be seduced by another man.

He’d liked Kate immediately. One look at her and a man with a single functioning brain cell could tell she was the true blue kind of woman who would never cheat. How could Ted be such a dick?

But Ted had always been a dick.

Back in college he used to cover for his roommate when he was cheating on whichever blue blood he was dating. Ted dated the kind of women his family would approve of, and then secretly hooked up with exactly the opposite type of girl.

When Nick had met Kate he’d thought that Ted had finally figured it out. He’d found a woman with the pedigree and breeding his parents would love, plus there was a certain something about her that was so subtle you could miss it if you weren’t looking carefully. It was a hint of devilry. The way she’d say the expected thing but a twinkle in her eye suggested she was thinking the opposite. The way she’d been so carefully polite but once she started blurting out her true feelings she couldn’t stop. He’d found it fascinating.

He’d thought that Ted was the luckiest guy alive. Now he began to wonder if Ted had even noticed the most interesting things about Kate.

“We’re not cancelling the wedding,” Ted said with an edge of desperation.

“I still can’t make the ceremony,” he said. He’d rather saw off his own toe than watch that amazing woman settle for Ted.

“No. You don’t understand. I can’t find her. Her own mother can’t find her. No one can.”

“Wait a second, you mean you haven’t talked to her?”

“Not since Friday night. She threw the ring in my face and then she left. She’s not at her apartment. Her phone’s turned off. She’s disappeared.”

“You know, Ted, when a woman throws a ring in your face and tells you it’s over, maybe you should cancel the caterer and start sending back the gifts.”

“You don’t understand. I have to get her back. I can’t let her make a fool of me and my family like this.”

Seemed to Nick that Ted had made a fool of himself without any help, but he didn’t point that out. He said, “Well, good luck.”

“I want to hire you. You have to find her.”

“I’m all booked up.”

“I’ll pay you whatever you want. Her mother thinks something’s happened to her daughter. She blames me. And you.”

He gazed out the window at another gray Seattle day. “She hasn’t contacted her mother?”

“No. She disappeared.” He sighed heavily. “It was late when she left my place. She didn’t have a car. Maybe something did happen to her.”

“Wait. You left her to find her way home? After suffering a shock like that? Knowing she had no transport? You live miles from town.” If they’d been having this conversation face to face he knew he’d be tempted to throttle Ted.

“I—my cheek was bleeding where the ring hit it, her mother was hysterical and I—I had something I needed to do.”

He knew that tone and even those same words. “Nick, buddy, I’ve got something I need to do later. Cover for me if Stacy/Miranda/Claire/Deb of the week calls.”

The years rolled away. “Tell me you aren’t still seeing her.”

There was a silence. Finally, Ted said, “Find Kate for me. Please.”

When he got off the phone, Nick flipped back through his notes. He’d done a lot of research on Kate prior to meeting her so that he could find a way to appeal to her immediately. He’d wanted to know her politics, her favorite sports and movies and anything that would make him interesting to her.

He’d done a background check on her for Ted’s family as well as a credit check. Ted’s family demanded the platinum level of service and were willing to pay the platinum level price. He’d been happy to oblige.

Now things were different. She wasn’t a billing number. She was an articulate, intelligent woman who’d given him a hint of fascinating fires burning under a façade of cool reserve. She was a woman who deserved a hell of a lot better than Ted Carnarvon. The chances that she was a victim of foul play were slim to none. However, he knew from his background check how very sheltered her life had been. She was upset, angry, probably broken hearted. She was vulnerable. Ted, prince among men, had let her go off into the night alone. His precious parents, even her own mother, hadn’t gone after her.

And now she was missing.

He scoffed at himself. She wasn’t a helpless little kid. She was a grown woman with friends, a cell phone, credit cards. She’d called a cab, or phoned a friend for a ride.

Not even her mother had heard from her.

Not in three days.

In truth, he wasn’t that busy.

And Kate was no longer engaged.

He finished up a report on a really rich guy who’d been caught cheating on his wife. The only interesting aspect to the case was that he was fairly certain it was the girlfriend who’d planted the evidence the wife had found. He suspected she was hoping to grab the soon-to-be-vacant role of wife herself.

By the time he signed his name to his report, he’d made up his mind.

He called a meeting of his staff. They weren’t a large outfit but he had an assistant and two other private investigators so he had people to take up the slack if he was out of the office for a few weeks. He explained that an important client had asked him to track down a missing girlfriend.

The four of them sat down and went over the caseload and distributed tasks until he was free and clear. He’d be available for consultation but he was unavailable to work until further notice.

His mind kept skipping back to that night, after dinner, when he’d followed her out of the restaurant. When he’d nearly kissed her. Or she’d nearly kissed him.

She hadn’t been single then. Now she was.

And all he had to do was find her.

 ***

Kate sat on the sand staring out to sea. She’d been doing a lot of that since she got here and she found it as healing as therapy, without the need to spill her secrets to a stranger, something she’d never do. Except she
had
spilled her secrets to a complete stranger at dinner Friday night and the man had turned out to be a PI hired by her fiancé and his family. How had she shown such poor judgment? Nick, if that was even his name, had drawn her into telling him about the things that were bothering her, and look how that had turned out.

The sun dropped lower. She wasn’t the only one on the beach waiting for the sunset. A string of pelicans drifted by, seeming to skim the waves. A half-dozen surfers were out hitting the evening waves and people walked the beach or stood on the path above. Some walked their dogs, some jogged, some biked, but she felt they were all watching the sunset. She loved the sound of the waves pounding the shore, knowing that she wasn’t required to be anywhere or do anything.

Of course, all this beach walking and sunset gazing wasn’t getting her reputation ruined.

Tomorrow she’d start seriously working on that.

It was funny, she’d imagined she’d never sleep with another man. That Ted would be her forever lover.

Sex with Ted had always been pleasant. Although, pleaser that she was, she was always very concerned to make sure he was completely satisfied. He hadn’t always been as scrupulous about her pleasure. While she never actually faked an orgasm, she often let him believe she’d had more pleasure than she’d actually experienced.

Now she was greedy. She wanted it all. All the marrow she’d politely left in the bone for others to enjoy, she was going to suck out.

She was here to surf, to play, to get herself into as much trouble as she could cram into a month.

And she was here to figure out what she was going to do with her life.

Kate spent a couple of hours stocking her new apartment. There was food to buy, everything from coffee to meals for one. She found the local Trader Joe’s and stocked up on onesie meals. She bought a few bottles of wine and packed her supplies home and put the groceries away. She cleaned up the shabby apartment.

She warmed up one of her meals for one, which she picked at, and sipped a glass of wine.

She went to bed early.

From her apartment she could hear the tick of the wall clock, and the roar of traffic on Carlsbad Boulevard and then, as it grew later and traffic lessened, she heard the heartbeat of the ocean, calling to her. Telling her that everything was going to be okay.

The second day she woke to brilliant sunshine. She brewed coffee. Ate a little cereal and put her big sunglasses on, grabbed a ball cap and headed for the beach. Off-season meant the beach was sparsely populated. A line of surfers floated like plump seals waiting for the waves. She dug her toes into the sand and watched them. A curious seagull waddled up and turned its head sideways, studying her. When it was clear no picnic would be forthcoming the gull gave up in disgust.

By day three, Kate realized that brooding was not healthy for her. She took a walk through town. Idly she wandered through clothing stores and gift shops. She passed a salon that had a poster in the window about a project to give hair to cancer patients.

A momentary vision flashed before her eyes. Ted with his hands in her hair. “Don’t ever cut it,” he’d said.

She walked into the salon. An hour later she walked out with a blunt cut at the level of her chin and the happy thought that someone with cancer would get her hair. Her whole body felt lighter without the weight of all that hair. Plus, she had bangs. She hadn’t had bangs since she was a kid. Maybe if she could figure out where she’d first gone wrong, she could catch up with herself and get her life back on track.

The surf was picking up. An itch she’d barely been aware of grew strong enough that she strolled into a surf shop. “I want to rent a board and a wet suit,” she told the sleepy looking man behind the cash desk.

He cast a glance out of the long windows that overlooked the ocean. “You want a lesson?”

“No.”

“Surf’s coming up. You know what you’re doing?”

“Yes.”

He pushed a form at her. “Rental’s $75 a day. Wet suit’s an extra $25.”

She pulled out cash.

“I’ll need some ID.”

She gave him her driver’s license and then grabbed the wet suit he pulled out for her, headed to the small changing room at the back of the store, and squeezed into it. The familiar tightness, the way the suit resisted her, all that was so familiar. When she zipped up the back she felt a lightness she hadn’t felt in days.

She hadn’t surfed in a few years, but she hadn’t forgotten how.

She grabbed the board, tucked it under her arm and headed for the beach. The breeze tossed her newly short hair, the waves called to her, come and ride me, see if I don’t toss you. The pelicans skimmed the waves. She tethered the board to her ankle and headed in. Her bare feet hit the water and she noticed a rush of coolness, then she was striding into the surf, the board bouncing along beside her like a rambunctious puppy.

She pushed out, lay out on the board and began to paddle. When the first wave crashed over her head she laughed aloud. Soon, she’d passed the tideline and was out in the relative calm, waiting. Surfing was timing and balance. She waited, watching for her chance, and then instinct kicked in. She jumped to a crouch, felt the surge beneath her, and stood. It was like riding a wild horse she sometimes thought, bareback, standing up on bare feet. The first wild horse tossed her to the dirt. Shaking her head and climbing back onto her board, she headed out again.

Who had time to obsess about a broken engagement, a faithless fiancé, an untrustworthy mother and a job loss when all her attention and focus needed to be on the board, the wave, the moment.

Another wave came hulking toward her, daring her to try and ride it.

She took the dare.

Jumped to her feet. The wave tried to upend her but she danced up and back, like a fencer, feeling all the instinct to ride, all the years of surfing rise up out of her feet into every muscle as she balanced, danced, and rode.

She flew.

For hours she surfed wave after wave until her arms were so tired they were a couple of overcooked noodles and all her muscles felt the unaccustomed pull and strain of the workout.