A Winter's Tale (The Shakespeare Sisters 2) - Page 99

– As You Like It

When she walked through the door to her apartment later that evening, the place was in chaos. She’d barely kicked her shoes off before Sorcha barrelled past her, mumbling about being late for her job at a nightclub in downtown LA. Anais was running between the bathroom and her bedroom like a pinball, shouting out that she couldn’t find her earrings, her purse, her credit card. That left Sia, who was sitting quietly in the living room, already dressed for wherever she was planning to go that night.

‘You’re late,’ Sia observed, looking up at Kitty. ‘Are you back to working at the restaurant again?’

‘No, I was hanging out at the library.’

Sia grinned. ‘You know how to live life on the edge.’

‘Why’s Anais so crazy tonight?’ Kitty asked, as the girl started screaming about her heel being scuffed. Not that Anais was ever completely calm. Kitty had become used to the dramatics, living with three wannabe actresses. It wasn’t completely different to living with her three sisters.

‘There’s a party tonight. Rumour is that a few big names are going to be there. Anais’s boyfriend reckons he can get us on the guest list. You should come.’

Kitty wrinkled her nose. The last thing she wanted to do was go to some bullshit evening and make small talk for hours with people who preferred staring at themselves in the mirrored glass walls than actually look at you while you spoke. ‘I think I’ll just stay here.’

‘It could be good for you,’ Sia pointed out. ‘There’re bound to be producers there, you could ask them about that internship.’

It was on the tip of Kitty’s tongue to tell her she had an interview for one tomorrow. But that would only lead to more questions. It was hard enough fending off her sisters’ interest, she couldn’t face having to do the same in her own home.

After the three of them left – Sorcha climbing into her car and heading for the club, while Anais and Sia were picked up by Anais’s boyfriend – Kitty collapsed on the sofa, pushing a pile of rejected dresses to the side. From the looks of them they had to be Anais’s, but the girls all borrowed each other’s clothes. Who knew their origins really? She’d never been part of their crowd. They were kind, but while she spent all day on campus, they were bonding over failed auditions and budding relationships. Even here Kitty was the odd one out. The story of her life.

It was barely eight. The evening stretched in front of her like an unwanted interval – a long, lonely gap that she didn’t really know how to fill. She shoved a ready-meal in the microwave and then pushed it around with a fork for a while, before scraping the contents down the waste disposal and turning it on with a satisfying crunch. She managed to fill another twenty minutes by sorting out her portfolio ready for tomorrow, in case she decided to actually go to the place. Then she looked at the card again, at the address Adam had scribbled on it.

Who was she fooling? Of course she was going to go. Even if it was just to make a fool out of herself.

She even thought about killing time with a bath, but one look at the devastation Anais had left in her wake made her think again. She could barely get in the bathroom to clean her teeth and wash her face. Her shower would have to wait until morning.

When she looked at her watch it wasn’t even nine o’clock. Without anything to take her mind off things, she found her thoughts drifting to Adam. Again. Analysing everything he said, every movement he made, remembering the way he’d pressed his hand into the small of her back as they walked across campus to the library. What had he meant by that? She wanted to call one of her sisters to dissect that afternoon’s events, but she was afraid.

Afraid they’d tell her she was reading too much into it. It was as if a tiny flame of hope had been relit inside her, buffeted on all sides by a wind that she couldn’t stop. The best she could do was protect it, cup her hands around it, and hope that somehow the flame wouldn’t be extinguished.

After pacing around the apartment for ten minutes, she stripped her clothes off and climbed into her pyjamas, determined to get an early night. At least if she was asleep she wouldn’t be obsessing over every word he’d said in the lecture theatre, or the way his face had looked when he’d told her about his experiences in Colombia.

But even in bed she was way too jittery to relax. She jumped out and grabbed her laptop, climbing back on the mattress to balance it on her knee. Then she called up the old familiar page – the one that would have been worn out by now if it wasn’t virtual – and pressed play on the video she’d already watched too many times.

There he was, in full screen glory. His hair styled, his face freshly shaven, looking exactly like the man who’d stood at the front of the lecture theatre and engaged tw

o hundred students with little more than a good story and a lot of charm.

The same way he’d engaged her in West Virginia. Except back then he’d been less than charming, and definitely not clean-shaven. And yet beneath it all he was one and the same. A man who saw a child being shot in front of him, and carried the blame like a heavy weight. A man who had been hurt by those who were supposed to love him. A man who had somehow found his way into her heart.

She pushed the laptop screen down, leaning back against the padded headrest, her eyes squeezed shut. For a moment she allowed herself to indulge in all those questions that had been shooting around her mind ever since he’d walked into the lecture theatre. Why was he there? What did it mean? Was he simply trying to make amends for the way he’d treated her, or did he want something more?

Was it normal for a guy to fly all this way just to say sorry? Was he planning to leave after the meeting tomorrow?

She clenched her fists, feeling the frustration washing over her. She couldn’t just lie here wondering what the hell was going on. She needed to talk to him.

And she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Sliding the laptop onto her bedside table, she climbed out of bed and walked into the living room, grabbing her phone and the business card he’d left for her. It had his number on – something she’d never thought of asking for back when they’d been holed up in his cabin. She hadn’t needed it, all she’d had to do to talk to him was follow that winding, snowy path through the forest. And when she’d left under that dark, dismal cloud, the last thing she’d thought to ask was if she could call him.

She could feel the anxiety build in her chest as she pressed the numbers into her phone, sliding her eyes between the card and her screen to make sure she had the right ones.

Just as she pressed to call, there was a buzz from the intercom. Damn. She hung up, rolling her eyes at the interruption, and walked over to the speaker. ‘Hello?’

‘It’s Adam.’

She froze for a moment. Then when she tried to form a word her mouth opened and closed like a mute fish. Finally, she found enough breath to force it out. ‘Hi.’ Yep, that was one for the history books. Way to go, Kitty.

Tags: Carrie Elks The Shakespeare Sisters Romance
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