Kitty heard Bart walk out, closing the bedroom door softly behind him. She tossed the pillow aside, and scooting up to lean against the headboard, she reached for the coffee. As the caffeine hit her bloodstream, she started making sense of the world again and pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness.
Okay, she thought. I’m here in Bartholomew Saint’s bed. Two of his nephews’ wives—at the very least—know I spent the night in Bart’s bed. When Bart takes me into work—she glanced at the clock—three hours late, it’s likely everyone at Konstantine will know I spent the night with him.
Then she thought about her father’s harsh words over the phone yesterday afternoon, and she could only wonder at her sudden lack of trepidation. In fact, she decided, she felt pretty darn good at the moment. She hadn’t slept with Bart in order to convince him to sign the contract, which is what her father had hinted she attempt. Instead, she had made love with Bart after conceding that The Four Saints would never sign such a contract. Her father would be furious, but she realized, however belatedly, that she didn’t care. In point of fact, she had money in the bank and a pricey condo she could sell. So who said she needed to worry about what Randall J. Konstantine, Sr., thought of her? Why should she continue to care about pleasing the “old man”—and keep beating her head against the wall trying to do so?
Kitty froze with the coffee mug halfway to her lips, suddenly realizing what she was considering.
Are you out of your cotton-picking mind? her other half—the sensible half—asked herself.
“Probably,” she said, then sipped her coffee and waited, trying the kernel of an idea on for size.
Then she took a very deep breath and smiled. “In fact, undoubtedly.”
Setting aside her coffee mug, she threw off the sheet and headed for the bathroom, before she could change her mind.
48
Bart pulled the SUV into the loading zone at the front door of the Konstantine Talent Agency, put it in park, and hopped out to come around and open Kitty’s door.
“You sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” he asked.
Kitty smiled. “No thanks. I’ve got this.”
She released her seatbelt and swung her legs around only to have Bart grasp her waist in his big hands and lift her gently to the ground.
“Thanks,” she said. Slightly breathless, she reached back for her purse.
“Thanks for the ride,” she added. “And thank you for last night.” Her smile warmed. “I’m really glad you trusted me enough to tell me about yourself and your nephews, Bart. It means a lot to me.”
Bart returned her smile, and brushed a loose lock of hair back from her face. She wore it pulled back into a simple pony tail, this morning. It was unusual for her, to say the least, but it seemed to match the style of Meg’s dress, which was a light, full-skirted wrap-around style, made of a light-weight, breezy chiffon. The color was of early daffodils. Meg had left not only the dress for her but also a white slip, panties, and a pair of matching, low, wedge-heeled canvas shoes. The entire outfit couldn’t have been more different than Kitty’s usual work attire, and she found she loved it—both the look and the feel. She and Meg were of a size, and everything fit perfectly.
“You’re welcome, darlin’,” Bart said, leaning in to kiss her lightly on the lips. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”
“How about tonight?” she asked, pleased to see his eyes light with anticipation.
“Works for me.”
“Good.” She turned away, but when she glanced back briefly to see his golden eyes following her closely, she laughed.
Kitty entered the building and ignored the stares from the security personnel as she signed in and headed for her office.
Good morning, Tina,” she greeted her assistant.
“Oh! Good morning, Ms. Konstantine!” Tina said. The young woman was obviously trying hard not to stare at her boss. “Uh, Mr. Konstantine has been trying to reach you all morning.”
“Okay. I’ll call him in a bit. Please ask Ms. Saint to come to my office as soon as possible, if she’s available.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Kitty felt laughter bubble up at her assistant’s expression, but tamped it down. There would be plenty of time, later.
Stepping into her office, she closed the door behind her and went immediately to her desk to turn on her computer. Twenty minutes later, she hit send, sat back in her chair, and took a deep breath.
“That’s done, then. No turning back, now.”
She rose and headed for the closet. Rummaging around, she found a couple of empty file boxes, and bringing them out, she began to systematically go through her office, packing personal items into the boxes. She would leave all company files behind, because she didn’t want her father to sic his lawyers on her for stealing company secrets, but some of the files—and all the decorations—were her own personal property. Retrieving the photos of her brother, she smiled.
“Wish me well, Rand,” she whispered, touching a finger to his beloved image, before she closed the frame and placed it gently in a box.
The intercom sounded, and she reached for the switch.
“Yes?”