Luck of the Draw (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 1) (3 page)

“Oh.
That.
” Kate relaxed a little remembering the papers she’d brought to the office to copy. “I was going to tell you, er, talk about that, when you got back. You see, I’m not—”

Nancy held up a hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain. I get it: you hate your job. It was too much to expect someone of your caliber to want to be my assistant forever. I just want you to know… I won’t stand in your way.”

Kate opened her mouth to protest,
hate
was such a strong word, really, but then… Nancy sighed.

Uh-oh.

Nancy’s sighs were epic in intensity and length, expressing her disappointment, frustration and sympathy in excruciating slow-motion. Kate had timed one sigh at seventeen seconds. The student had gone blue by the time the last low, guttural syllables had passed over Nancy’s lips.

Then she’d expelled him.

Eight... Nine... Ten...

Nancy inhaled. “Look, I know this has been a difficult time for you. It’s perfectly understandable that you’d want to explore your options. Especially now.” She paused and Kate sucked in a breath, bracing herself for who knew what. “I don’t know how to say this, but I want you to know what I’m about to say... I’m not speaking only as your boss... but as your friend.”

Kate nodded, the blood rushing from her head. “Am I being
fired?”

“No! No. Of course not. It’s... Look, I know Randy’s death has been difficult. I understand.
I do.
But I think it’s fair to say your heart hasn’t been in your work for a while now.”

Kate nodded. “I had so many things to take care of after Randy
—”

“I’m not talking about Randy, Kate. I’m talking about
you
.” Nancy laid a sympathetic hand on Kate’s shoulder. “It’s clear you’re at a crossroads. I’ve read
Eat, Pray, Love.
I get it. The fact that you’re applying to college again
proves
it. I want you to know… I support you. Go! Find out what’s next for Kate Mitchell. Find your passion.”

Kate blinked. “My what?”

“Your passion! Figure out what makes you happy.
Alive
. Figure out if being my assistant is enough or if you need something more in life.”

Kate shook her head as Nancy’s hand dropped away. Her gut clenched. “I don’t need to
—”

“I’m giving you a leave of absence,” Nancy announced as if she were sending Kate on a cruise and not shoving her into choppy seas without a life preserver. “Take the summer. Explore!
Get away.
You can leave as soon as classes end. I can’t pay you, but think of it as a gift of time.”

“I don’t need time! I’m
fine
!”

“No, you’re not. You’re exhausted and lost.” Nancy’s head tilted compassionately. “Randy is gone, Kate. You’re no longer in his shadow. But, I’m here to tell you that, come September, the strategic initiatives the board just approved will demand a renewed commitment from everyone, including you.  As your employer, I need to know I’ll be able to count on you to give me 110%. As your friend, I’m giving you time
—
now
—to figure out whether that’s want you want.”

Kate let out an unsteady breath. “Do I have a choice?”

Nancy smiled. “No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

A moment later, Kate stumbled back into the living room, her thoughts swirling, her summer opening up liking a gaping black hole before her. Some gift! How would she ever pay for tuition without a
job?
And, where would she find the time to attend classes and finish her degree if she gave Nancy the 110% she was asking for?

“Kate
.” Celery Mom lightly touched Kate’s shoulder, and Kate dropped the carrot she didn’t know she’d been holding. It rolled under the loveseat.  “We were talking, Betsy and I, and we feel awful about all you’re going through.”

You have no idea.

Betsy nodded sympathetically. “I know it may sound crazy, but trust me. The best thing you can do right now is pamper yourself. Get a facial, a massage—
the works
. It’ll do you a world of good!”

“A spa day always makes me feel so
refreshed
,” Celery Mom agreed.

Kate watched as Betsy fished in her fancy designer bag. Her spirits lifted a little. A little me time did sound heavenly. While a spa day wouldn’t fix her problems, it would go a long way toward smoothing the rough edges.

Betsy found what she was searching for and pulled it from her bag. “I just happen to have a business card for my massage therapist. Trust me—he’s the
perfect
escape.” She winked conspiratorially and pressed the little ivory card into Kate’s palm. “It’s clear this ordeal has left you drained,” she whispered.

“And haggard,” mouthed Celery mom.

Kate stared at the card. Drained?
Haggard?
She tried not to erupt in semi-hysterical laughter. When was she supposed to have gotten a manicure? After the funeral but before her bereavement leave was over?

She wanted to tell them all
—Betsy, Nancy and especially Nana—to jump in the proverbial lake. Oh God. But they were right. She hadn’t taken care of herself. And, while a gift certificate to said spa would have been a heck of a lot nicer than a measly business card, that had to change. Now.

She shoved the card in her pocket. “Actually, speaking of escapes, we
are
taking a vacation. Liam and I. Getting away for a bit. We’re headed to New Hampshire, um, next week. So… no time for a spa day!”

“How lovely!” Betsy enthused. “My Evan’s family has a cottage on Squam Lake. You know
—
On Golden Pond
?” Seeing as Betsy referenced the decades-old Oscar-winning movie every time she mentioned the ‘cottage,’ Kate nodded.

“That is a lovely spot,” Celery Mom interjected. “
Unspoiled
.”

By this, Kate assumed she meant there weren’t too many pesky locals hanging about. “Yes, well, we’re actually going to
Whisper Lake. In Sugar Falls.” Just as soon as she made arrangements.

“Sugar Falls? New Hampshire? I can’t say I’ve heard of
—”

“It’s on the western border. Near Vermont. My grandmother grew up there.”

Betsy’s head tilted, her elegant, spa-shaped brows gently knitted. “Oh. Well. I’m sure it will be lovely there, too.”

“Lovely,” Celery Mom nodded in agreement.

Kate wasn’t sure how lovely it would be once she was arrested on attempted-murder charges for poisoning these toxic women with lethal doses of Red Dye No. 3, but she figured she’d find out soon enough. She grabbed the lemonade pitcher’s handle with a death grip, and refilled each of their paper cups with neon-pink liquid.

The pink dot that happened to jump onto Celery Mom’s white shirt was just a bonus.

A
N HOUR AND A HALF LATER,
K
ATE waved goodbye to the next to last guest with no small amount of relief. She put the slice of cake she’d wrapped up for Mrs. Pemborly in a plastic bag and handed it over. “Remember,” she said, “you’re not supposed to have too many sweets. So, this is for tomorrow.”

Mrs. Pemborly pulled the bag’s handles over her wrist, her pale blue eyes conveying what she thought of the admonition. “I’m ninety-three years old, Kate. There isn’t much point in waiting to indulge in anything.” She heaved a beleaguered sigh. “But I will. You can sleep with a clear conscience tonight.

“Liam!” the older woman barked, “Happy birthday, young man! Enjoy your loot!” Liam grinned and waved as Mrs. P. peered out the front window. “Oh, June, you’re right. It’s starting to rain again.”

“I’ll get my coat and walk you home,” Kate offered.

Mrs. Pemborly rolled her eyes and opened the door. “I’m ninety-three years old. I think I know how to walk. Besides, you look spent.”
Great
, thought Kate,
another unflattering adjective to add to the list
. Mrs. P. turned to Nana. “Just open my umbrella, would you, June? I have such a time with it. It’s a little rusty, but at ninety-three, there doesn’t seem much point in buying a new one.”

Before the woman could announce she’d turned ninety-four, Kate tied Mrs. P.’s little plastic hood under her chin, Nana popped the umbrella and they both helped her down the front steps. Nana closed the door with a satisfied thump. “Well! That takes care of that!”

Yes. That it did. Kate blew out a breath and tried to ignore her frayed nerves as she surveyed the mess. Toys and wrapping paper lay in mounds on the loveseat under the window. Popcorn and chip crumbs littered the carpet like pale confetti. Half-eaten plates of cake sat on the mantel, the snack table, the floor. And, a single cup of pink lemonade balanced precariously on a window sill.  Kate wanted to go curl up in bed with a cup of hot tea, but this mess wasn’t going away by itself. “You’ve been on your feet all day, Nana. Why don’t you go rest for a bit? I’ll clean up.”

“Nonsense. I’ll help. Mrs. P.’s right. You look exhausted!”

“Thanks for noticing.” Kate picked up a trash bin and began loading it with half-eaten cake slices and the larger chip crumbs, her eyes welling with tears. She poured the lemonade into a potted plant and threw the cup in the trash. Nana didn’t mean to be unkind, but the truth was, she
was
tired. And haggard. And out of a job! Kate swallowed. She wouldn’t lose it now, not after holding it together all afternoon.

The doorbell rang and her eyes flew to Nana.

“I’ll get it. Probably somebody left their jacket or something.” Nana swung the door wide, and Kate’s stomach rolled.

“Katherine.
Mother!
Thank God. I’m
so
worried about Sandy…” Kate’s mother stood on the other side of the screen door, a giant golf umbrella sheltering the small pink animal crate in her hand. “She’s been acting lethargic all day,” her mother whispered.

Kate opened the screen door and took the dog crate as her mother shook the umbrella and set it next to the door.  “My
God! What happened here?”

“Liam’s birthday party.” Kate set the crate next to the umbrella.

“Oh, right. I couldn’t make it. Sandy has been suffering so. I needed to be with her. You understand.” Her mother frowned. “Honey, don’t put her by the door. She’ll catch a draft.”

Kate dutifully picked up the crate again and carried it to the dining room.

“I hate to ask,” her mother continued, “but I have an event this evening and Rosaria has gone home, and I don’t like to leave Sandy alone when she’s under the weather…”

“I’ll watch her.” Kate said, returning to the living room.

“Thank you. You know how she looks up to you.”

Kate fought the urge to roll her eyes and accepted the designer pink backpack that included Sandy’s leash, favorite toys, treats, organic food, stainless measuring scoop, pop-up dishes, biodegradable poo baggies, tick remover, hair brush, and personal pillow with lamb
swool covering. Kate knew this because her mother itemized its contents as she passed it over. “And only
one
scoop of food. Don’t let her beg for more. I know you’ll want to give in to that sweet little face, but we can’t have our little pooch getting poochy, can we?”

Kate glanced toward Nana
—who
was
rolling her eyes.

“When will you be picking her up?”

Her mother shrugged gracefully. “A few hours? Four at most. I’ll try not to linger.”

“Of course.”

“I have to use the little girls’ room before I go. Be back in a sec.” Kate’s mother’s kitten-heeled sandals made little
schtuck, schtuck
noises as she walked down the hall.

Liam pounded out a jar of Play-Doh onto the coffee table.

“There are times I cannot believe I gave birth to that woman,” Nana muttered from the other side of the room.

“Nana!”

“Oh, please. I think the chemicals she uses in her hair have done something to her good sense.”

Kate went back to picking up food debris. “She doesn’t use anything but the natural dyes now.”

“After thirty years of pickling her brain. But, she had you, so it’s clear the commonsense genes made it through before she did too much damage.”

Kate knew Nana was only trying to lift her spirits, but still. It hurt that a dog meant more to her mother than her own grandchild. Kate wondered if she had married one of the prep-school boys her parents approved of rather than the son of a factory worker whether Liam would be more acceptable in her parents’ eyes. She didn’t have time to dwell on the thought, as a shriek rang down the hall.

“Katherine! Come quick! There are
feces
on your bathroom floor!”

Kate met Nana’s eyes across the room. “Well, don’t look at me,” Nana said.

Kate hurried down the hall.