It was about the oppressive, overwhelming weight of my life and my future that was bearing down on me, harder and harder until I was certain that if I didn’t do something to break out a little I’d spontaneously combust.
Kat had glanced at my purse as if she could see through the soft Coach leather to the contraband inside. Then she slowly lifted her eyes back to my face. The silence hung between us for a full minute. Then she nodded. “Don’t worry. I get it.” She cocked her head toward the exit. “Come on.”
Relief flooded through me, and my limbs that had frozen in both fear and mortification began to thaw. She steered me to her car, a cherry-red Mustang that she drove at more or less the speed of light. She careened down Michigan Avenue, maneuvered her way onto Lake Shore Drive, and came so close to the other cars as she zipped in and out of traffic that I’m surprised her convertible didn’t lose a layer of paint. In other words, it was freaking awesome. The top was down, the wind was whipping my hair into my face and mouth, and all I could do was tilt my head back and laugh.
Kat risked our lives long enough to shoot me one sideways glance. “Yeah,” she said. “We’re going to get along just fine.”
From that moment on, I’d adored Kat. Now, with Jahn’s death sending my universe reeling, I realized that I not only loved her—I relied on her.
“I’m really glad you’re here,” I said.
“Where else would I be?” She scanned the room. “Are your mom and dad around somewhere?”
“They can’t make it. They’re stuck overseas.” The familiar numbness settled over me again as I remembered my mother’s hysterical sobs and the deep well of sorrow that had filled my father’s voice when he’d learned about his half-brother. “I hated calling them,” I whispered. “It felt like Gracie all over again.”
“I’m so sorry.” Kat had never met my sister, but she’d heard the story. The public version, anyway, and I knew her sympathy was real.
I managed a wavering smile. “I know. That means a lot to me.”
“The whole thing sucks,” Kat said. “It’s so unfair. Your uncle was too damn cool to die.”
“I guess the universe doesn’t give a shit about coolness.”
“The universe can be a raving bitch sometimes,” Kat said. She exhaled loudly. “Want me to crash here tonight so you won’t be alone? We could stay up late getting so wasted that there’s no way in hell either one of us will dream.”
“Thanks, but I think I’ll be okay.”
She eyed me uncertainly. She was one of the few people I’d confided in about my nightmares, and while I appreciated the sympathy, sometimes I wished I’d kept my mouth shut.
“Really,” I said earnestly. “Kevin’s here.”
“Oh, yeah? And how’s that going? Engaged yet?”
“Not quite,” I said wryly. I supposed we were dating since I’d slept with him twice, but so far I’d dodged the let’s-be-exclusive conversation. I wasn’t sure why I was so reticent. The sex wasn’t mind-blowing, but it did the job. And I did genuinely like the guy. But I’d spent the last few months holding him at arm’s length, telling him I needed to keep my attention on Jahn’s surgery, then his recovery.
Obviously, I hadn’t planned on his sudden death.
How horrible was it of me to think that now Jahn was gone, I had no more excuses to hand Kevin?
Beside me, Kat craned her neck and scoped out the crowd. “So where is he?”
“He had to go take a call. Technically, he’s working today.”
“What are you going to do now?” Kat asked.
“About Kevin?” Honestly, I was hoping to avoid doing anything on that front for the foreseeable future.