Page 14 of Counterfeit Connection

“As soon as I bring this table’s food out, I’m off the clock, and Kat is going to cover the entire floor since we’re winding down.”

“Kat. Is that the name of your partner in crime? I wondered when I’d find out.”

She smiles. “It’s short for Katarina. Partner in crime, eh? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say I broke up a bro chat with yours.” Kaitlyn takes two victory steps back. “Do you want anything right away?”

Outed.

“Just your company.”

She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and I can’t help but notice, even her ears are adorable.Who is this woman and where did she come from?

“You’ll have that soon enough. I’ll be right back.”

“I look forward to it.”

She leaves me to myself again, and this time, I slide my phone into my pocket. I refuse to have any distractions once I have her undivided attention.

“You,” I hear from my right side and look up to see Katarina standing with her finger pointed my way. “She’s a wonderful human. You better be nice or I’ll go Brooklyn on you.”

I hold my hands up in surrender. “I have nothing but gentlemanly intentions.”

“Good, because I may or may not know people who can make someone disappear.” She uses two fingers to point at her eyes then at me, as if to sayI’m watching you.

I get the sense I’d better not test that theory.

Several minutes pass. She said she’d be back, however, I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve been stood up. Would she do that to teach me a lesson? I’d deserve it, to be sure. I don’t see her as the type. Could I have been completely wrong?

I tug at the watch around my wrist as I study the weekend warriors wandering about the city. As I’m about to check thetime again, I sense I’m being watched. I look out into the nearly empty restaurant to see Kaitlyn coming toward me. The stray hairs that had fallen from her pulled back look have been set free. Her rich blond waves fall around her shoulders. She’s changed out of the uniform I’ve seen her in the last two days to a casual T-shirt with an open, deep-gray cardigan sweater skimming over her body.

I rise to my feet to greet her properly, walking around to pull the chair out for her.

“Wow,” she says as she sits. “I didn’t expect that.”

“My mother taught me, when I was young, women are to be treated with respect.”

“She must be an amazing woman.”

“To say the least.”

I return to my chair while we stare into each other’s eyes for a brief moment before she cuts the silence with a question.

“So, you’re in New York on business?”

“I am, yes. I work in corporate real estate. I had to venture across the pond to take a few meetings and potentially close some deals.”

“Sounds so official and important.”

“It can be, yes, but other times it can be tedious and incredibly irritating, like any job, I suppose. How long have you been working here?” I ask her.

“Forever and not long enough. I started here in my last couple years of college, and then even after I graduated and got another job, I asked if I could stay.”

“You enjoy it here that much?”

“Being at Elliot’s doesn’t feel like work. It’s more like spending time with my family who’s not blood related.”

Her point of view is so foreign to me. I can’t remember a time where I really, with my heart, enjoyed what I did. “If this is your family time, what do you do when you’re not here for work?”

“I’m a case preparation attorney at Wilder, Hawkings, and Grant in Midtown. I’ve been working my way up through the ranks. I started as a paralegal.”

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