"He's very sweet, isn't he?" LaVonne said.
"He is." K.O. didn't want to acknowledge it but he was. He'd done it on purpose; she just didn't know why. What was his purpose in breaking down her defenses?
She needed to think. She pulled her feet up onto the bed and wrapped one arm around her knees. He had been sweet and alarmingly wonderful. Oh, he was clever. But what was behind all that charm? Nothing good, she'd bet.
"I have more to tell you," LaVonne said, lowering her voice to a mere whisper. "It happened again this morning." She paused. "I was feeding the boys."
K.O. had half a mind to stop her friend, but for some perverse reason she didn't.
"And then," LaVonne added, her voice gaining volume, "when I poured the dry cat food into their bowls, some of it spilled on the floor."
"You got a reading from the cat food?" K.O. supposed this shouldn't surprise her. Since LaVonne had taken that class, everything imaginable provided her with insight— mostly, it seemed, into K.O.'s life. Her love life, which to this point had been a blank slate.
"Would you like to know how many children you and Wynn are going to have?" LaVonne asked triumphantly.
"Any twins?" K.O. asked, playing along. She might as well. LaVonne was determined to tell her, whether she wanted to hear or not.
"Twins," LaVonne repeated in dismay. "Oh, my goodness, I didn't look that closely."
"That's fine."
LaVonne took her seriously. "Still, twins are definitely a possibility. Sure as anything, I saw three children. Multiple births run in your family, don't they? Because it might've been triplets."
"Triplets?" It was too hard to think about this without her morning cup of coffee. "Listen, I need to get off the phone. I'll check in with you later," K.O. promised.
"Good. You'll give me regular updates, won't you?"
"On the triplets?"
"No," LaVonne returned, laughing. "On you and Wynn. The babies come later."
"Okay," she said, resigned to continuing the charade. Everything might've been delightful and romantic the night before, but this was a whole new day. She was beginning to figure out his agenda. She'd criticized his beliefs, especially about Christmas, and now he was determined to change hers. It was all a matter of pride. Male pride.
She'd been vulnerable, she realized. The dinner, the wine, Chef Jerome, a carriage ride, walking in the snow. Christmas. He'd actually used Christmas to weaken her resolve. The very man who was threatening to destroy the holiday for children had practically seduced her in Seattle's winter wonderland. What she recognized now was that in those circumstances, she would've experienced the same emotions with just about any man.
As was her habit, K.O. weighed herself first thing and gasped when she saw she was up two pounds. That fabulous dinner had come at a price. Two pounds. K.O. had to keep a constant eye on her weight, unlike her sister. Zelda was naturally thin whereas K.O. wasn't. Her only successful strategy for maintaining her weight was to weigh herself daily and then make adjustments in her diet.
Even before she'd finished putting on her workout gear, the phone rang again. K.O. could always hope that it was a potential employer, but caller ID informed her it was her sister.
"Merry Christmas, Zelda," K.O. said. This was one small way to remind her that keeping Santa away from Zoe and Zara was fundamentally wrong.
"Did you get it?" Zelda asked excitedly. "Did you get Dr. Jeffries' autograph for me?"
"Ah…"
"You didn't, did you?" Zelda's disappointment was obvious.
"Not exactly."
"Did you even talk to him?" her sister pressed.
"Oh, yes, we did plenty of that." She recalled their conversation, thinking he might have manipulated that, too, in order to win her over to his side. The dark side, she thought grimly. Like Narnia without Aslin, and no Christmas.
A stunned silence followed. "Together. You and Dr. Jeffries were together?"
"We went to dinner…."
"You went to dinner with Dr. Wynn Jeffries?" Awe became complete disbelief.
"Yes, at Chez Jerome." K.O. felt like a name-dropper but she couldn't help it. No one ate at Chez Jerome and remained silent.
Zelda gasped. "You're making this up and I don't find it amusing."
"I'm not," K.O. insisted. "LaVonne arranged it. Dinner was incredible. In fact, I gained two pounds."
A short silence ensued. "Okay, I'm sitting down and I'm listening really hard. You'd better start at the beginning."
"Okay," she said. "I saw Wynn, Dr. Jeffries, in the French Café."
"I already know that part."
"I saw him again." K.O. stopped abruptly, thinking better of telling her sister about the confrontation and calling him names. Not that referring to him as Jim Carrey and Charles Dickens was especially insulting, but still…"Anyway, it's not important now."
"Why isn't it?"
"Well, Wynn and I agreed to put that unfortunate incident behind us and start over."
"Oh, my goodness, what did you do?" Zelda demanded. "What did you say to him? You didn't embarrass him, did you?"
K.O. bit her lip. "Do you want to hear about the dinner or not?"
"Yes! I want to hear everything." K.O. then told her about cocktails at LaVonne's and her neighbor's connection with the famous chef. She described their dinner in lavish detail and mentioned the carriage ride. The one thing she didn't divulge was the kiss, which shot into her memory like a flaming dart, reminding her how weak she really was.
As if reading her mind, Zelda asked, "Did he kiss you?"
"Zelda! That's private."
"He did," her sister said with unshakable certainty. "I can't believe it. Dr. Wynn Jeffries kissed my sister! You don't even like him."
"According to LaVonne I will soon bear his children."
"What!"
"Sorry," K.O. said dismissively. "I'm getting ahead of myself."
"Okay, okay, I can see this is all a big joke to you."
"Not really."
"I don't even know if I should believe you."
"Zelda, I'm your sister. Would I lie to you?"
"Yes!"
Unfortunately Zelda was right. "I'm not this time, I swear it."
Zelda hesitated. "Did you or did you not get his autograph?"
Reluctant though she was to admit it, K.O. didn't have any choice. "Not."
"That's what I thought." Zelda bade her a hasty farewell and disconnected the call.
Much as she hated the prospect, K.O. put on her sweats and headed for the treadmill, which she kept stored under her bed for emergencies such as this. If she didn't do something fast to get rid of those two pounds, they'd stick to her hips like putty and harden. Then losing them would be like chiseling them off with a hammer. This, at least, was her theory of weight gain and loss. Immediate action was required. With headphones blocking outside distractions, she dutifully walked four miles and quit only when she was confident she'd sweated off what she'd gained. Still, a day of reduced caloric intake would be necessary.
She showered, changed her clothes and had a cup of coffee with skim milk. She worked on the Mulcahys' Christmas letter, munching a piece of dry toast as she did. After that, she transcribed a few reports. At one o'clock LaVonne stopped by with a request.
"I need help," she said, stepping into K.O.'s condo. She carried a plate of cookies.
"Okay." K.O. made herself look away from the delectable-smelling cookies. Her stomach growled. All she'd had for lunch was a small container of yogurt and a glass of V8 juice.
"I hate to ask," LaVonne said, "but I wasn't sure where else to turn."
"LaVonne, I'd do anything for you. You know that."
Her friend nodded. "Would you write my Christmas letter for me?"
"Of course." That would be a piece of cake. Oh, why did everything come down to food?
"I have no idea how to do this. I've never written one before." She sighed. "My life is pitiful."
K.O. arched her brows. "What do you
mean, pitiful? You have a good life."
"I do? I've never married and I don't have children. I'm getting these Christmas letters from my old college friends and they're all about how perfect their lives are. In comparison mine is so dull. All I have are my three cats." She looked beseechingly at K.O. "Jazz up my life, would you? Make it sound just as wonderful as my girlfriends' instead of just plain boring."
"Your life is not boring." Despite her best efforts, K.O. couldn't keep her eyes off the cookies. "Would you excuse me?"
"Ah…sure."
"I'll be back in a minute. I need to brush my teeth."
Her neighbor eyed her speculatively as K.O. left the room.
"It's a trick I have when I get hungry," she explained, coming out of the bathroom holding her toothbrush, which was loaded with toothpaste. "Whenever I get hungry, I brush my teeth."
"You do what?"
"Brush my teeth."
Her friend regarded her steadily. "How many times have you brushed your teeth today?"
"Four…no, five times. Promise me you'll take those cookies home."
LaVonne nodded. "I brought them in case I needed a bribe."
"Not only will I write your letter, I'll do it today so you can mail off your cards this week."
Her friend's eyes revealed her gratitude. "You're the best."
Ideas were already forming in K.O.'s mind. Writing LaVonne's Christmas letter would be a snap compared to finishing Bill Mulcahy's. Speaking of him…K.O. glanced at her watch. She was scheduled to meet him this very afternoon.
"I've got an appointment at three," she told her friend. "I'll put something together for you right away, drop it off, see Bill and then stop at your place on my way back."
"Great." LaVonne was still focused on the toothbrush. "You're meeting Wynn later?"
She nodded. "At six." She should be contacting him and canceling, but she didn't know how to reach him. It was a weak excuse— since she could easily ask LaVonne for his number. Actually, she felt it was time to own up to the truth. She wanted to see Wynn again, just so she'd have some answers. Was she truly attracted to him? Did he have some nefarious agenda, with the intent of proving himself right and her wrong? Unless she spent another evening with him, she wouldn't find out.
"Are you…" LaVonne waved her hand in K.O.'s direction.
"Am I what?"
LaVonne sighed. "Are you going to take that toothbrush with you?"
"Of course."
"I see." Her neighbor frowned. "My psychic vision didn't tell me anything about that."
"No, I don't imagine it would." K.O. proceeded to return to the bathroom, where she gave her teeth a thorough brushing. Perhaps if Wynn saw her foaming at the mouth, he'd know her true feelings about him.
Chapter 6
K.O. had fun writing LaVonne's Christmas letter. Compared to Bill Mulcahy's, it was a breeze. Her friend was worried about how other people, people from her long-ago past, would react to the fact that she'd never married and lacked male companionship. K.O. took care of that.
Merry Christmas to my Friends, K.O. began for LaVonne. This has been an exciting year as I juggle my time between Tom, Phillip and Martin, the three guys in my life. No one told me how demanding these relationships can be. Tom won my heart first and then I met Phillip and how could I refuse him? Yes, there's a bit of jealousy, but they manage to be civil to each other. I will admit that things heated up after I started seeing Martin. I fell for him the minute we met.
I'm retired now, so I have plenty of time to devote to the demands of these relationships. Some women discover love in their twenties. But it took me until I was retired to fall into this kind of happiness. I lavish attention and love on all three guys. Those of you who are concerned that I'm taking on too much, let me assure you— I'm woman enough to handle them.
I love my new luxury condo on Blossom Street here in Seattle. And I've been continuing my education lately, enhancing my skills and exploring new vistas.
* * *
K.O. giggled, then glanced at her watch. The afternoon had escaped her. She hurriedly finished with a few more details of LaVonne's year, including a wine-tasting trip to the Yakima Valley, and printed out a draft of the letter.
The meeting with Bill Mulcahy went well, and he paid her the balance of what he owed and thanked her profusely. "This is just perfect," he said, reading the Christmas letter. "I wouldn't have believed it, if I wasn't seeing it for myself. You took the mess this year has been and turned it all around."
K.O. was pleased her effort had met with his satisfaction.
LaVonne was waiting for her when she returned, the Christmas letter in hand. "Oh, Katherine, I don't know how you do it. I laughed until I had tears in my eyes. How can I ever thank you?"
"I had fun," she assured her neighbor.
"I absolutely insist on paying you."
"Are you kidding? No way." After everything LaVonne had done for her, no thanks was necessary.
"I love it so much, I've already taken it down to the printer's and had copies made on fancy Christmas paper. My cards are going out this afternoon, thanks to you."
K.O. shrugged off her praise. After all, her friend had paid for her dinner with Wynn at Chez Jerome and been a good friend to her all these months. Writing a simple letter was the least she could do.
K.O. had been home only a short while when her doorbell chimed. Thinking it must be LaVonne, who frequently stopped by, she casually opened it, ready to greet her neighbor.
Instead Wynn Jeffries stood there.
K.O. wasn't ready for their outing— or to see him again. She needed to steel herself against the attraction she felt toward him.
"Hi." She sounded breathless.
"Katherine."
"Hi," she said again unnecessarily.
"I realize I'm early," he said. "I have a radio interview at 5:30. My assistant arranged it earlier in the week and I forgot to enter it into my PDA."
"Oh." Here it was— the perfect excuse to avoid seeing him again. And yet she couldn't help feeling disappointed.
He must've known, as she did, that any kind of relationship was a lost cause.
"That's fine, I understand," she told him, recovering quickly. "We can get together another time." She offered this in a nonchalant manner, shrugging her shoulders, deciding this really was for the best.
His gaze held hers. "Perhaps you could come with me," he said.
"Come with you?" she repeated and instantly recognized this as a bad idea. In fact, as bad ideas went, it came close to the top. She hadn't been able to keep her mouth shut in the bookstore and been banned for life. If she had to listen to him spout off his views in person, K.O. didn't know if she could restrain herself from grabbing the mike and pleading with people everywhere to throw out his book or use it for kindling. Nope, attending the interview with him was definitely not a good plan.
When she didn't immediately respond, he said, "After the interview, we could go on to the Figgy Pudding thing you mentioned."
She knew she should refuse. And yet, before she could reconsider it, she found herself nodding.
"I understand the radio station is only a few blocks from West Lake Plaza."
"Yes…" Her mouth felt dry and all at once she was nervous.
"We'll need to leave right away," he said, looking at his watch.
"I'll get my coat." She was wearing blue jeans and a long black sweater— no need to change.
Wynn entered her condo and as she turned away, he stopped her, placing one hand on her arm.
K.O. turned back and was surprised to find him staring at her again. He seemed to be saying he wasn't sure what was happening between them, either. Wasn't sure what he felt or why…Then, as if he needed to test those feelings, he lowered his mouth to hers. Slowly, ever so slowly…K.O. could've moved away at any point. She didn't. The biggest earthquake of the century could've hit and she wouldn't have noticed. Not even if the building had come tumbling down around her feet. Her eyes drifted shut
and she leaned into Wynn, ready— no, more than ready— eager to accept his kiss.
To her astonishment, it was even better than the night before. This couldn't be happening and yet it was. Fortunately, Wynn's hands were on her shoulders, since her balance had grown unsteady.
When he pulled away, it took her a long time to open her eyes. She glanced up at him and discovered he seemed as perplexed as she was.
"I was afraid of that," he said.
She blinked, understanding perfectly what he meant. "Me, too."
"It was as good as last night."
"Better," she whispered.
He cleared his throat. "If we don't leave now, I'll be late for the interview."
"Right."
Still, neither of them moved. Apparently all they were capable of doing was staring at each other. Wynn didn't seem any happier about this than she was, and in some small way, that was a comfort.
K.O. forced herself to break the contact between them. She collected her coat and purse and was halfway to the door when she dashed into the bathroom. "I forgot my toothbrush," she informed him.
He gave her a puzzled look. "You brush after every meal?" he asked.
"No, before." She smiled sheepishly. "I mean, I didn't yesterday, which is why I have to do it today."
He didn't question her garbled explanation as she dropped her toothbrush carrier and toothpaste inside her purse.
Once outside the building, Wynn walked at a fast pace as if he already had second thoughts. For her part, K.O. tried not to think at all. To protect everyone's peace of mind, she'd decided to wait outside the building. It was safer that way.
By the time they arrived at the radio station, K.O. realized it was far too frigid to linger out in the cold. She'd wait in the lobby.
Wynn pressed his hand to the small of her back and guided her through the impressive marble-floored lobby toward the elevators.
"I'll wait here," she suggested. But there wasn't any seating or coffee shop. If she stayed there, it would mean standing around for the next thirty minutes or so.
"I'm sure they'll have a waiting area up at the station," Wynn suggested.
He was probably right.
They took the elevator together, standing as far away from each other as possible, as though they both recognized the risk for potential disaster.