But Kat’s mind was still lost in a dream, clouded with smoke and fire.
“Excuse me,” Marcus whispered. “Miss, the gentlemen—”
“Are morons,” Gabrielle said, taking the walkie-talkie from his hand. Kat watched her cousin storm off with an exasperated sigh of, “I guess I have to do everything myself.”
Kat, Hale, and Nick watched her go. Another roar bellowed in the distance as Kat found Hale’s gaze and whispered, “Bigger.”
Chapter 28
Sometimes Katarina Bishop couldn’t help but wonder if she had been the victim of some colossal, genetic mistake. After all, she almost always preferred black to pink, flats to heels, and as she stood perfectly still atop one of the silk upholstered chairs in Hale’s great-great-grandmother’s dressing room, all she could think was maybe she wasn’t even female— at least when compared to Gabrielle.
She glanced down at her cousin, who sat on her knees beside the chair, a pincushion in one hand and a cell phone in the other.
“Of course I want to come to your engagement party,” Gabrielle said with a sigh into the phone. “Those are always fun, but you know how Switzerland is this time of year.” She darted her eyes toward her cousin. “No, Mother, I haven’t seen Kat in ages—you know we’re not exactly close.”
Gabrielle winked.
“It’s too short,” Kat whispered at the exact moment Gabrielle chose to mouth, “I think it’s too long.”
“Sure, I think you should call Uncle Eddie,” Gabrielle said into the phone, but stared up, straight into her cousin’s eyes. “Whoever ratted out Kat’s dad should totally pay.”
Kat cut her a look. Gabrielle gestured and mouthed the word “Turn.”
Kat did as she was told. She could feel her hemline rising as her cousin worked, but she didn’t protest. After all, Kat was a natural grease man, wheel man, and inside man. Gabrielle was a natural girl. So Kat stayed still and quiet on her chair, staring through the bay windows, looking out onto the garden and the statue, trying to remember which parts of the night before had been a dream.
“So . . .” Gabrielle said slowly. The cell phone was gone. The skirt was nearly finished. And there was no disguising the thrill in her voice as she said, “Where’d you and Hale disappear to last night?”
“Nowhere,” Kat said.
“Turn,” Gabrielle instructed. Kat moved a half step, but her gaze never left the garden. “Remind me . . . didn’t you used to be a better liar?”
Kat sighed. “Probably.”
Even with a straight pin between her teeth, Gabrielle managed to nod and say, “Thought so.” She gripped the skirt’s hem, then cried, “Ouch!”
Kat glanced down in time to see Gabrielle pulling a stray pin from her finger.
“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Kat said. “Marcus is working on the costumes.”
“The last time Marcus made our costumes, you looked like a nun.”
“I was a nun.”
Gabrielle shrugged as if that were utterly beside the point. “Besides”—Kat heard the teasing tone in her cousin’s voice again—“you’ve got legs.”
“Thanks,” Kat said flatly.
“What’s wrong? Are you afraid your men might notice?”
“What men?”
“You know…” Gabrielle teased. “Your boyfriends . . . Hale and the new kid.”
“Hale’s not my boyfriend,” Kat blurted.
“Of course not.” Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Hale is definitely not your boyfriend.”
“But you just said—”
“Let’s face it, Kitty Kat. Of all the men you’ve known in your life, Hale’s the first guy who could be your boyfriend.” Kat started to protest, but Gabrielle silenced her with a hand. “And a tiny little part of that great big mind of yours has always thought that someday he would be your boyfriend.”
Kat wanted to deny it, but she’d forgotten how to speak.
“Turn,” Gabrielle commanded, but Kat didn’t move. She just watched her cousin finish. “And Nick . . . well, Nick’s the new Hale.”
“No”—Kat’s voice was as sharp as the pins in Gabrielle’s hand—“he’s not.”
Gabrielle raised her eyebrows. “Well then, maybe you should make sure the old Hale knows that.” Kat stood perfectly still for a long time, thinking about the guys in her life: the ones she could trust and the ones she could con, wondering if she really knew the difference—wondering if, in that respect, she’d ever be as wise as Gabrielle.
“Do you like Nick?” Kat asked timidly. “I mean . . . do you trust him?”
Kat felt her cousin’s hands fall away from the skirt. “Those, Kat my dear, are two very different questions. Why do you want to know?”
“Do you remember that day I was late coming back from the Henley—the day before I met Nick? I saw Taccone that afternoon. He gave me these—”
“Excuse me, miss?”
Kat turned to see Marcus in the doorway of the dressing room, holding a massive bouquet of roses and lilies and orchids so rare that Kat imagined they must have been stolen from nature itself.
Gabrielle squealed and ran toward them. “Oooh! Sven!” she cried, reaching for the card. But then she stopped. A shadow seemed to fall across her face. “They’re for you.”
Her cousin tried to hand her the card, but Kat stood back, staring. Something told her that nothing that beautiful ever came without some kind of string attached, so she didn’t reach for the flowers. She didn’t want to listen as Gabrielle started to read.