“Night, Dad.” Kat wasn’t anxious to get to her dreams. Last night had been restless with visions of Nick wandering aimlessly around the city, lost in the sea of concrete, unable to find her.As if he were searching for her.Still, she couldn’t help a glance around the bar and lobby. To herself, she rolled her eyes. The man knew where to find her—and he had not come looking.
* * *
Mid-morning Saturday, Nick downed the last swallow of coffee and considered the rest of his day. It yawned before him like a lonely stretch of desert highway. The servers at the small sidewalk cafe where he sat watching the frenetic traffic of New York City would probably kick him out soon—or at least stop refilling his cup.
He wouldn’t meet up with Sherra until seven tonight. He’d been lucky enough to spend all day yesterday at the wood shop in Connecticut where they’d do some of the filming for his program. But today he was on his own.
A niggling in his brain kept telling him the MoMA was close by. He’d love to visit—had barely scratched the surface of all the museum offered the last time he went, but that was no way to free his mind of Kat. He agreed with his mother that atime-outwould do him good.
If Kat stuck to her original schedule, she would’ve taken her family to the MoMA yesterday. He blew out a long breath. At least she had something to show off there. The bamboo exhibit intrigued him on multiple levels. Personal connections aside, he was an artist and woodsmith. He tucked cash for his check under the mug and wandered onto the sidewalk.
Ten minutes later, he arrived in front of the museum. He craned his neck, looking every which way. Keeping his sunglasses on, he paid the admission, took a map, and entered the museum. On the fifth floor, he strolled through the first exhibits, taking his time, soaking in the unique vibe of the building and displays. The first temporary exhibit he found featured the bizarre artwork of a French sculptor. Making his way to the second floor, a sign pointed him in the right direction. He peered inside and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe a dozen people dotted the exhibition room. And none of them familiar.
The lush bamboo wall Kat told him about ran the length of the exhibit on one side and made a dramatic backdrop to the displays. He moved slowly, inspecting the bamboo frames and reading the small informational plaques that accompanied each one. As he read, he could almost hear Kat’s voice. He swallowed hard. Kat had touched every item in here. Her signature, her insights, her passion came through in the words, images, and artifacts.
Nick stopped still as a realization washed over him. It didn’t matter that Kat had had the help of money and status to get into the best schools, to be able to afford to live in New York City and land a job at a prestigious museum. She couldn’t have excelled at those schools or a top museum without things money couldn’t buy—her energy and extraordinary talents. She had good reason to aim high.
“This is what’s been consuming my life.”
The words were accompanied by a light laugh that Nick would recognize anywhere.
He froze in place. Without turning around, he weighed his options. Could he get out before anyone noticed him? Maybe, but sneaking out felt ridiculous and cowardly. The alternative was an awkward encounter.
He shifted his feet and turned slightly toward the entrance. His heart bounced. Kat was leaning in talking to her grandmother, a beautiful, wide smile on her face. Her dad and Mia rounded out the group. The grandmother was exactly as Kat had described. She wore a mocha-colored pantsuit with a cream and gold scarf—and looked like a class act. Still had excellent posture and vibrancy in her face.
In his indecision, he hesitated. Mia spotted him first. Her surprised gape quickly changed to a glare that practically burned his skin. She gave the slightest shake of her head.
He didn’t know if the gesture was one of disapproval or a signal he should keep his distance. Mia’s reaction meant Kat had obviously shared the details of his exit with her friend. What about the others? Was he about to be skewered by all four of them? He sucked in a deep breath. Might as well get it over with.
He’d taken only a few steps toward the group when Mia nudged Kat’s arm and spoke in her ear.
She whirled around, fully facing him, eyes wide.
For a second, he thought he saw something flicker in her eyes. Perhaps a spark of pleasure… But it was fleeting. In the next instant, her expression turned guarded.
He offered a polite smile and tried for a nonchalant gait crossing the room. “Hey, Kat.” He kept his voice low and gave Mia a nod.
“Nick. What are you doing here?”
He gestured around the room. “Wanted to see the exhibit I’ve heard so much about.” He raised his brows and smiled at Nana Kitty, prompting Kat to make introductions.
She pressed her lips together but took the hint. “Nana, this is Nick Summers.”
She gave no explanation of their relationship, but Nick guessed Nana knew who he was. The woman extended her hand, her direct gaze searching his face. Sizing him up, he figured.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Summers.” She held his hand a beat longer than a normal handshake, and Nick had no idea what to make of that—if anything.
“Dad.” Kat turned to her father. “You remember Nick Summers, of course.”
His brows pulled together. Apparently not.
“He built the new bookcases and mantel at your house.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Great to see you again, Nick. Spectacular work.” Clearly confused, he looked from Nick to Kat.
When Kat flicked a glance his direction, the pang of regret inside him went deep. Her eyes held none of the spark he’d seen when they painted together or went skating. His throat tightened as he remembered how her eyes became soft and luminous when they made love. The cool disinterest in her gaze now told Nick that not enough time had passed. She wasn’t ready to talk, to give them another chance.
“We met in Denver,” Kat said finally. “Now he’s doing some work here in the city.”
