“Depends on how you define know. Shit,” she hissed, her thumb jamming down against the screen. “Lost again.” She sat upright and Katya gasped. It was Brighton Stone, the youngest Stone sibling.
If Vieve and Wulf were cut from the same cloth, then Brie was from an entirely different bolt. She hadn't gotten any of the height or strong bone structure that ran through the Stone line. Brie took after her mother – dark blonde, on the short side, and curvy. She finally stood up and glanced at Katya with a pair of large, closed-off brown eyes. Then she raked a hand through her thick hair and strode into the kitchen.
“Brie,” Katya finally managed, turning to follow her. “I'm sorry, I didn't even know you were here. I can't believe how long it's been, I barely recognized you.”
“Yeah, long time, I know,” the younger woman sighed as she rooted around in the fridge.
“Wulf didn't mention that you were here, too.”
“Probably because he doesn't know.”
“Uh …,” Katya wasn't sure how to respond to that.
“I'm taking some time off school. Wulfy won't be happy when he hears that, he'll spout off to mom, she won't leave me alone till I go back, blah blah blah. I'm just over it, so I'm hiding out here,” Brie explained as she popped the cap off a beer. Katya glanced at Vieve, who looked slightly embarrassed but still maintained a calm smile.
“Hiding out in his home? And aren't you, like, eighteen?” Katya double checked. Brie raised an eyebrow, then necked half the beer before responding.
“I'm nineteen, and do you see Wulf around this place? He won't come back as long as Vieve is here. I'm safer here than at home.”
Katya wanted to keep asking questions, then stopped herself. She didn't know Brighton Stone, at least not anymore. And the girl seemed to have a wall ten feet thick out in front of her. Don't fuck with me rolled off her in waves, and Katya decided to heed that warning. She had enough problems of her own, she didn't need to get involved with an attitudey teenager.
“So what am I going all wrong about?” she went back to Brie's comment.
“This. You're mad at Wulf, right?” Brie checked.
“Uh, yes.”
“And you want him to leave you alone, but you also want him to know you're pissed off at him.”
“Um … sure?”
“Then coming here and whining to his favorite sister isn't going to do any of that,” Brie finished. Vieve sighed.
“Brighton, I'm not -”
“You have to get his attention. Do some crazy shit. Then make him regret the day he ever met you,” Brie talked right over her sister.
“You do know we're talking about your brother, right?” Katya checked. Brie shrugged.
“A man's a man. Not like he acts like a brother, anyway,” she replied, then dragged her feet as she wandered back into the living room, disappearing from sight.
“Brighton,” Vieve sighed, shaking her head. Then she fixed her smile back into place and looked at Katya. “She has some issues. With men. Our father left when she was so young, and then Wulf hasn't been around much, and then there was a boyfriend in high school.”
“At least I'm not a widow at twenty-one!” Brie yelled from the other room.
Jesus. Katya had always assumed Wulf was the odd one in his family. Apparently, she'd been way off base. She got the feeling she could punch Vieve in the face, and the girl would smile and say thank you. And Brie seemed like “Bitch” was her middle name.
They could probably get an amazing discount for some family therapy.
Before things could get more awkward than they already were, Katya grabbed her umbrella and started backing towards the exit.
“I've intruded long enough,” she said, then held up her hand when Vieve went to argue. “I sort of came here on a whim. Thanks so much for being honest with me. It was great seeing you – both of you – again. We'll have to have lunch sometime!”
She kept rushing for the door, exchanging phone numbers with Vieve and shouting goodbye to Brie – who didn't respond. When she was safely in the elevator, Katya slumped against the wall and pressed her hand against her head.
I think I'm more confused now than when I came here. Why did I have to be neighbors with the Stones!?
8
From four in the morning on Saturday, Katya was running at top speed.
She left her dress hanging on the back of her bedroom door, and had her makeup prepped and spread out on her bed.
She took a taxi to work, put all the layers of the cake together, then put on the finishing touches. Then added some more accessories to it. Loaded it into the van for delivery, then rode in the back with it to ensure its safety, and to add a couple new elements she thought of at the last minute.
While the catering staff was moving the cake onto a trolley, they knocked the top layer askew. Katya's first instinct was to throw up, and then to kill everyone in the room. Then she remembered that she was a professional and she'd been through much worse, so she got out her baker's emergency kit and fixed the problem. By the time she had everything back in order and the cake was in place in the ballroom, she had twenty minutes before the wedding party was scheduled to arrive.
Cutting it close.
She felt a little better when she got to the apartment and found out Tori was running late, too. The other girl was running around in her underwear, attempting to curl her hair and brush her teeth at the same time.
Katya did her makeup, helped Tori do hers, and then went to put on her dress, only to discover it had somehow acquired a huge stain on it. She glared down the hall in her roommate's direction – the stain was suspiciously the same shade as Tori's favorite lipstick.
The bride had a strict dress code for the reception – all white. Absolutely everyone was supposed to be wearing as much white as possible, with black pants and skirts being acceptable. Katya's closet wasn't exactly overflowing with white dresses. She'd bought her outfit specifically for the event. She yanked her hangers around and finally found one piece of mostly white clothing.
She frowned as she pulled out the dress. It was the one she'd worn on her second date with Wulf. To the small bar, when the sun had set everything on fire and they'd slept together for the first time.
She shook her head back and forth and yanked the dress off its hanger. She didn't have time for memory lane, or the massive cry fest that was lurking behind her eyes. She put on the appropriate underwear, slid into the dress, grabbed Tori, and was running to the elevator with high hopes of making it to the reception in time to see the cake cut.
“Oh. My. God.”
Katya was breathing hard, one hand pressed against her side. They'd literally ran down the block from their taxi. She wasn't as in shape as she liked to think, and while they stood at the entrance to the ballroom, she bent over and waited to catch her breath.
“What?” she asked, glancing at Tori. The other girl was staring across the room.