Catch - Deborah Bladon Page 0,43

of my bed out of pure relief. I feel as though I’ve been holding my breath for hours.

Keats was delayed by a day in Orlando as he worked out a deal to represent his newest client. He promised me he’d be back in Manhattan in time for the Newmans’ anniversary party tonight, but I was nervous.

I’m confident that I could have handled attending on my own, but I’m thankful that I won’t have to.

I type out a quick response.

Maren: Go home and get ready. I’ll meet you at Howerton House.

His reply is instant.

Keats: Are you sure? I can pick you up.

I’m touched by the offer, but it’s out of his way. Howerton House is in mid-town. The venue features a garden terrace, a loft, and a ballroom. I’ve never been, but I’m excited to see it and Keats.

Maren: I’m sure. See you soon.

I take a second to stare at my screen before I hit send.

Keats: See you there.

“Please tell me that Keats texted you.”

I look up to see Arietta standing in the doorway of my bedroom. I slide my phone into the pocket of the robe I’m wearing. “He’s back in New York.”

She moves across the floor with Dudley in her arms. She’s been cradling him since we picked him up from Donovan’s office yesterday afternoon. He implanted the microchip in Dudley and gave him a checkup and a bath.

Arietta commented that she liked the shampoo’s peach fragrance, so he handed her a bottle and told her not to bathe him too often. I don’t know how long she’ll be able to resist that temptation.

“Thank goodness,” she says. “It’s makeup time, Maren.”

I glance over to where the dress I bought a few days ago is hanging in my closet. It’s black, sleek, and sexy. The fit is divine.

When I tried it on at the Ella Kara boutique, I was struck by the style. My back is completely on display, and the hem falls just above my knee. It’s sophisticated but edgy enough to turn heads.

Arietta encouraged me to buy new shoes to go with it, but I’m relying on my favorite pair of black heels. They’re comfortable, and I know I won’t come home at the end of the night with blisters.

“Are you excited?” Arietta asks. “I’d be so excited to go to Howerton House. You’ll take pictures for me, won’t you?”

“I will.” I nod.

She glances at my bouncing knees. “You’re nervous.”

I have to pretend to be Keats’s girlfriend for the evening. I’m not convinced that I have the acting skills to pull that off. “I want everything to go well tonight.”

“You mean you want Keats to get that Fletcher guy to sign on the dotted line.”

Arietta has no idea that the Newmans think that Keats and I are involved. I didn’t tell her because I’m hoping that after tonight, we can drop the lie.

“It will,” she reassures me with a pat on my shoulder. “Stand up and stretch it out. It’s time to get ready.”

I push to my feet. “Are you staying home tonight?”

She places Dudley on the bed. “I’ll hang out with my favorite guy.”

“Mr. Calvetti is finally back from Italy?” I joke.

She laughs. “You know I meant Dudley, not Dominick.”

“I know.” I wrap an arm around her shoulder. “The bar down the street has half-priced martinis on Saturday nights.”

Her eyes meet mine. “I’m good. It’s the puppy and popcorn for me tonight.”

It’s a fake relationship with my boss for me tonight.

With any luck, this night will end with Fletcher Newman as a client. Once that happens I can go back to not being the pretend girlfriend of the man I have a real crush on.

***

I press my finger to my phone’s screen to cancel the Uber I ordered.

It was due to arrive ten minutes ago. I’ve been standing on the sidewalk outside my building anxiously waiting.

Ricky, the doorman, has come outside twice to check on me. He disappeared when Mrs. Belars from 4B emerged from a car with an armload of packages. Ricky happily helped her with everything, promising me that he’d find a cab for me after he got back from her apartment.

I’ve lived in Manhattan my entire life. I know how to hail a taxi.

As one approaches, I lift my hand. I make eye contact with the driver. He smiles as he pulls up to the curb.

Just as I’m about to reach for the door handle, a hand darts out to grab it.

I turn to thank the person opening the door for me. A man