The Artist (The Game Changers #2) (14 page)

BOOK: The Artist (The Game Changers #2)
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“We aren’t done here, Katherine,” he insisted.

“What else is there to say, Adam?”

He stared at me incredulously, like he couldn’t believe what was happening. Honestly, a part of me couldn’t believe it, either. After a moment, I broke eye contact and peeked out the door. “Nothing, I guess,” he conceded.

I picked up my Dior clutch and held it to me like a shield. “Good luck to you. I hope everything works out with your brother. I know it doesn’t help, but I really am sorry…for everything.”

I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I walked out of his office, my heels clicking hard against the wood floors. I passed Dee on my way out, and she couldn’t wait to give me the tongue-lashing I deserved. Too bad nothing she could say could make me feel worse.

With her dark eyes glaring at me from across the room, she said, “You should have stayed away, Duchess.”

She was baiting me. She wanted me to argue with her. There was no argument, though. I looked at her sadly as I pushed the door open for the last time. “I know.”

Tears burned my eyes the whole drive over to my parents, but I wouldn’t give myself the satisfaction of letting them fall. I created this mess, so I deserved the anguish I felt. Knowing his family was going to be taken care of wasn’t any kind of satisfaction right then. All I could feel was the selfish heartbreak I had caused.

I pulled up to my parents’ house and found myself surprised when my mother opened the front door to greet me. “Your father told me,” she said.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“Did you end it with the artist?” she asked with what appeared to be concern.

“It’s done,” I told her with no emotion.

“Oh, Kitty, I’m sorry.”

I froze. I couldn’t have heard that right. “What?”

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I really do want you happy. First, I thought Grant was perfect for you. I picked him because he protected you. I’ll never forget the first time I saw it. You were six or seven, and we were having a dinner party. You wanted to be able to join us so badly that you waited until your nanny fell asleep and snuck downstairs in your pajamas. Your father was not happy. Grant must have seen the look on his face, because he grabbed your hand and took you back upstairs. He was wearing his tuxedo, and you had on silly My Little Pony pajamas. I found you later playing Candyland when Iris asked me to find Grant.”

I smiled. It was true that Grant had always protected me from my father. That was the only reason I had ever agreed to marry him. I knew I’d be safe. Love didn’t matter to some degree, but safety did.

My mother continued, “If you had to marry someone who could take over for your father, he would have been perfect. Then I thought Ward would be a good fit for you, but I realized that I had been foolish to believe that as well. I’ve never seen you light up like you did when you looked at the artist. I’m sorry this is what it’s come down to.”

“Then why do it?”

“Come in. Let’s talk.” She held the door open wide for me and led me to the kitchen. After she poured each of us a steaming cup of green tea, she said, “I fell in love with your father when I was just barely twenty. He was everything to me. Then we found out I was pregnant and everything changed. He never looked at me the same. I had let him down, disappointed him.”

“Then why’d you stay? Almost thirty years, Mom.”

“Because I thought if I did what he wanted, one day he’d look at me like I was that beautiful ballerina he met all those years ago.”

“Has he?”

She smiled sadly, and for the first time, I could see the age on her face and the sorrow she worked so hard to hide. “No. I didn’t want that for you. I thought if you did what he wanted and married for business then your heart would never get broken. I thought you could marry someone you could get along with and make a life for yourself. I didn’t count on your falling in love with an artist.”

“No one said anything about love, Mom.”

“You’re giving him up so your father will help his brother. That selflessness screams love, Kitty.”

“Okay,” I admitted, “Adam didn’t say anything about love. It was only a month. He probably doesn’t feel anything like I do, and besides, he doesn’t know I fell in love with him. I never told him.”

“That’s probably for the best.” She smiled sadly, as much as her Botox face would allow. “Want some ice cream?”

“You have ice cream?” I asked surprised.

She rolled her eyes, which made me laugh because it was so unlike my mother. “Fat-free, sugar-free, everything-that-makes-ice-cream-taste-good-free ice cream.”

“Why not,” I shrugged.

As she pulled the bland ice cream out of the freezer, she said, “Your father has a good man picked out for you, but we’ll give you time to adjust to the city first.”

“Ward was a good guy, just not for me.”

“I know. Edward might be off the market anyway.”

I smiled fondly, remembering the ten-year girlfriend. “Good for him.”

“You’re doing the right thing, you know. Your father would have found another way to get you to do what he wanted.”

“I know, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less,” I told her sadly.

In another uncharacteristic move, she wrapped her arms around me in a warm hug. “It never does.” I dropped my spoon to the marble counter and began to sob into my mom’s shoulder as she held me close. I couldn’t remember one other instance in my entire life when my mother held me as I cried.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

I left for New York the next morning. True to her word, they gave me time to adjust. During the day, I wandered the city, visiting my favorite places. At night, I stayed awake thinking about Maverick. I wondered what he was doing, how Jack was holding up, if he felt anything for me. I wondered why I didn’t hear from him. I had secretly hoped he would try to stop me from leaving, but I hadn’t heard a peep from him. I wondered if I had ever mattered at all.

I reported to my father’s office a week after I arrived. He was there and began my review of his New York clients immediately. He wanted me to know the name and face of every important client or potential client so I would recognize him or her at my first gala in a couple of weeks. I needed to know everything about them to help my father’s business. The social side had always been my mother’s and my forte, so I wasn’t surprised when he asked me, no, commanded that I come on board to woo clients into believing his was a “family” business.

It was at the first gala that I met Alexander. He was handsome enough, well-groomed, tailored tux, good breeding, the works. As the son of a congressman, and a businessman himself, he had the background my parents desired. My father had been meeting with him for weeks to persuade him to join the firm. According to my father, he was great at wooing clients himself. I wasn’t sure at the time if this was who my mother had in mind for me, but he took one look at me, toes to hair and down again, and smiled suggestively. In front of my parents he said, “I could definitely use a woman like you in my life.”

My mother’s eyes lit up like the Fourth of July, and I knew she was mentally matchmaking. “How is a handsome man like you still single?” she asked.

“Haven’t found the right girl…woman,” he said as he glanced over at me again.

I kept my façade up like a champ that night. My smile didn’t crack when he suggested women were simply there to look pretty. It didn’t fade when my father agreed with him, and I saw the brief glimpse of my mother’s grief appear on her Botox-filled face before she giggled loudly, playing it off as a joke, and then downing her champagne in one unpleasant gulp. I kept it up through dinner while my father and Alexander continued to make deals and discuss business as if they hadn’t just insulted my mother and me. It was another amazing performance by Kitty Peters, all the while Katherine was thinking how tacky Dick and Alexander were for discussing such matters in public, and for having such barbaric opinions to begin with. That night, when I had washed my face clean of makeup and of Kitty, I looked in the mirror and had one thought—Eff my life.

The next week at work, I was pleasantly surprised to find Ward climbing on the elevator I was standing in. He did a double take when he saw me. “Katherine?”

“Ward.” I smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

“My father had me moved here. I’m working for him now,” I explained briefly as he scooted closer to me, allowing other suits to climb in the elevator.

“How’d that happen?”

“Long story.”

“Wanna tell it to me over lunch tomorrow?”

“I’d love to.”

“How about I meet you downstairs at one?”

“Perfect,” I agreed as he stepped off the elevator three floors before me. And just like that, my day had improved.

It wasn’t until I made it to my desk and found flowers, roses of all things, sitting there that I was reminded why I was in New York in the first place. The card was signed by Alexander and said, Dinner? I frowned and plopped in my chair just as my phone rang from an inside line.

“Kitty Peters,” I answered.

“Did you get my flowers?” Alexander’s smooth voice came through.

“I did. They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

“How about dinner tonight? Your mother said you’d be available, seeing as you just moved to the city.”

“Oh.” It was true that I hadn’t really made friends. I stayed home every night thinking of Maverick and wishing my life away. Pathetic, really. It was time to move on. He’d probably already moved on to someone better. After all, he still had made no effort to contact me over the last couple of weeks. I guess I didn’t deserve it, though. Maddox was the only person from home I had spoken to lately. After I told Penelope and Victoria I was in New York, I hadn’t heard from either of them. It wasn’t surprising, though. I had always known Maddox was my only true friend. He had even found out about Jack’s surgery for me. The biopsy came back saying the tumor was malignant, so his surgery was scheduled for the following Tuesday.

“That’s it? Oh?” Alexander spoke, bringing me back to the phone conversation.

“I’m sorry. I was thinking. Dinner tonight?”

“I have reservations for eight at Gramercy. How about I pick you up at seven? Your mother gave me your address.”

“It sounds like you and my mother have this all worked out. You sure you don’t want to take her to dinner?” I meant it as a joke, but the words slipped out with too much bite to be taken as anything friendly.

“She seemed to think you’d be interested. I’m sorry if I misunderstood.”

I suddenly felt bad. I was here to do what my parents asked of me. It wasn’t Alexander’s fault. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come off like that. I’d love to join you for dinner. Seven sounds great.”

“Wonderful. See you then, Kitty.” I cringed when he said my name.

“See you then, Alexander.”

I spent the rest of my day lost in research and adding events to my calendar until it was time for me to go home and get ready for my date. My mother was still in town, waiting for me when I arrived at their penthouse.

“What time is he picking you up?”

“Seven.”

“That doesn’t give us much time. Let’s go find the perfect dress.”

I solemnly followed her to my walk-in closet where the modest amount of clothing I brought was mixed in with what my mother had a personal shopper deliver for me. Spring was on the horizon, so I could afford to show a little more skin on this date. My mother seemed to want me to take advantage of it, which was unusual for her. I ended up dressing in a red Gucci fitted dress with a high neck and a shorter hemline on the flared skirt. My mother had always liked me in red. It usually made me feel like a siren, but tonight I felt like an imposter, which seemed fitting under the circumstances.

Alexander showed up promptly at seven and held open the door to a sleek black Bentley. The conversation on the way to the restaurant was pleasant enough, but I didn’t get the butterflies in his presence like I did every time I was this close to Maverick. Instead of enjoying Alexander’s company, I sat there mentally comparing him to Maverick. His voice wasn’t as raspy; it was too smooth. His hair was too perfect, more like Nolan than Maverick. His smile was too rehearsed, nothing like Maverick’s damn smirk. It was simply wrong, but I didn’t have any way of making it right. With my Kitty mask firmly in place, I did what I could to make the most of the night and tried to get to know the stranger beside me.

Once we were seated and the wine had been served, I asked, “So, why business and not politics?”

He laughed like it was all a joke. “Someone has to raise money for my father’s political career. The things we do for our parents, right?”

I smiled knowingly. “Right.”

“Besides, my brother is the aspiring politician. You’ll meet him soon. Your father’s company is a rather large donor to my father’s campaign this year.”

“I assumed so.”

“I take it we’ll be attending together.”

“Is that your way of asking?” I asked unimpressed.

“Let’s be frank. Your parents have made it clear what a great wife you’d be. Why is it they haven’t married you off before now?”

“Okay. Sure. Let’s get down to it.” I sipped my wine preparing for the conversation similar to the one I’d had with Ward a little over a month ago.

“I’m just trying to figure it out. You’re gorgeous and smart, but I’m guessing you do everything your parents tell you. How did you manage to avoid marriage this long?”

“It wasn’t like they didn’t try. It just hasn’t worked out yet.”

“Your doing?”

“Partially,” I confirmed with a small shrug and nod of my head.

“So, if I pursue this thing your father has not so subtly hinted at, you’re going to make it difficult?”

I appreciated his bluntness. Alexander might have been an ass, but he was upfront and honest. He was the kind of guy I could trust only because he didn’t care enough about me to be concerned about my feelings. “No, I’m not going to make it difficult. If you’re the man my father wants to groom for the future of his company, then I’m all in at this point. No sense fighting it anymore.”

“Well, I have to say, you’ll do for what I need a wife for, but you know this isn’t going to be some ridiculous romance. We’ll have to make the press believe that it is, but you and I need to be honest with each other.”

I froze for a moment. He was right, but I wasn’t sure what his motivation for entering a fake marriage could be. “Why would you do something like this? Why not find a girl you actually care about and marry her?” I asked curiously just before our overfriendly waiter delivered our meal to the table.

He waited for the waiter to leave us alone again before he spoke. “Honestly? Because I have no interest in marriage. I get my rocks off like every other red-blooded American, but making money is my first priority. I don’t want or need a real relationship. Women are clingy and emotional, but if you don’t expect anything more than what your father does from me then we should be fine. Your father knows business is better when it’s a family affair. I don’t disagree. If I had to choose anyone for a father-in-law, it should be someone who understands what I’m all about before I marry his daughter.”

Again, I appreciated his honesty, but I couldn’t say it didn’t disgust me a little to hear his perspective.

“What about you?” he asked pointing his fork at me.

“What about me?”

“Why would you be willing to do this?”

“Because I never had another choice,” I admitted sadly.

“And you’ve accepted that?”

“I’ve accepted that.”

“Then I guess we better get to know each other better.”

“I guess so.”

We spent the rest of the date doing the whole first date getting to know you thing with one glaring difference. Our cards were already laid out on the table. We knew where we stood with each other. There were to be no romantic feelings. Alexander and my family had brokered the perfect business deal, and I had been the bargaining chip. Disappointment threatened to crush my soul, but my blackened heart kept me going. I guess I inherited one useful thing from my father.

That night as I lay in my white bed, in my white bedroom, in my white pajamas, I surrendered myself to the pain I still felt. As I scrolled through the pictures on my phone, I allowed myself to remember. All of the pictures were of Adam and me or of Adam’s paintings. My Maverick. He was there smiling, looking as happy as I had felt. I wondered what the images of Alexander and I would look like. Would he smile like that? Would people believe us? Could I smile like that with him? Could I feel happy again?

The questions poured out of me, and it wasn’t long before the tears followed. I missed Maverick. I missed who I was with him. I missed Katherine, but most of all, I missed Duchess and Maverick. The way he made me feel was unlike anything else in the world. As sleep continued to evade me, I clung to the month of memories I had with the one person I wasn’t sure I could be happy without.

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