“Hi!”
That one word had Nick’s pulse jumping all over the place. There was no mistaking the smile in Kat’s voice.
“Hey, there. Sounds–”
“Oh, my gosh, Nick. This is so amazing. Tell me everything they said.”
Blood pounded in Nick’s ears. This is what he’d been waiting for. Sure, his parents were excited. They’d beamed with pride—his mother practically giddy at the news. But, somehow, Kat’s enthusiasm was the prize. Feeling as if he’d just scored the winning run in the World Series, Nick launched into the details of the call from Charles.
“That’s so exciting. You’re going to rock this, and I bet you’ll get more episodes. Who knows, you could end up with your own show.”
Nick chuckled, flattered by her enthusiasm and praise. “Well, thanks for that, but I’m not counting those chickens just yet.”
“When will you know dates for filming?”
“Hoping to get more info this week. At least I know I have to move everything else into high gear so I can be available.”
“I guess that’s true. Seems like such a tease, though.”
“Maybe they’re testing my patience.”
Kat laughed. “They’re testing mine. I’ll be super-busy again this week, but I want to know as soon as you find out more. Send me a news flash.”
“Will do. I hope you can come up for air when I get back up there.” He held his breath in the beat of silence.
“Me, too.”
“Might be last-minute.”
“We’ll figure it out. Once we get all the decisions made and orders placed for the bamboo project, there’ll be a little lull before set-up. The timing might work out great. We’ll make it work.”
Her words sent electricity straight to his veins.
ChapterEleven
Much as Kat would’ve liked to go home and sink into a steamy lavender bath after work on Friday, that wasn’t an option. Neither was letting down her best pal. She needed to work fast to have everything ready for Mia’s party.
By purchasing a few items after work each night, and splurging a little, she’d managed to pull together all the essentials for a fun birthday bash. After a quick change of clothes, she arranged a ring of colorful macarons around a tower of dark chocolate truffles, then set the platter next to a small charcuterie board on the coffee table in her living room.
Unfortunately, their numbers were dwindling. Rachel, a mutual friend, had called to say a sick child was keeping her home. A few others were stopping by but couldn’t stay for dinner. Kat was lighting candles when then the doorbell buzzed.
“We’re here!” Mia sang out when Kat hit the intercom.
Kat pressed the button to allow them access, then ushered in Mia, with longtime friends Jack and Brendan, at the same time, officially kicking off the party.
“Wow. Good timing,” she said as they began removing coats and gloves.
“Oh, we came together,” Mia said.
Kat moved in for a hug. “Happy birthday. Come in, and let’s get this party started. I’ve got beer…wine…Bellinis.” She waved them toward the kitchen and the small bar she’d set up as she gathered the coats then tossed them on her bed.
A moment later, the bell rang again. Natalie, a friend of Mia’s, bustled in. A few others followed. It didn’t take many people for her tiny apartment to feel full and lively. Natalie picked up a lemon macaron and tossed her arm around Mia. “Hey, sweetie, I’m sorry I can’t stay for dinner after all. I’m double-booked. Forgot about a work shindig.” She grimaced. “I gotta go—dotted line reporting structure.”
A glimmer of disappointment flashed in Mia’s eyes before she covered with a smile.
“No worries,” Kat told Natalie. “Glad you’re here.” She picked up one of the wrapped packages that had stacked up under the windowsill and handed it to Mia. “How about you open some of these, birthday girl?”
In the spotlight, exactly where she liked to be, Mia took her time opening each package. Kat already knew what Jack and Brendan had to offer since they’d both consulted her. Jack had sent no fewer than a dozen photos of possibilities until Kat put him out of his misery and picked a beautiful hand-knitted wool scarf. Mia reacted with a satisfyingly long “ooooooooh,” and immediately wrapped the scarf around her neck.
