Chapter 6

            A week later . . .

            Catherine was about to open a bottle of wine when the doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting anyone. More than likely it was one of her sisters. They were the only ones who showed up unannounced.

            Catherine opened the door to – Ava Bartholomew.

            “Hi, Catherine. May I come in?” Ava chirped happily. She wore a tight shirt and blue jeans. She held a bag.

            “Ava,” Catherine said as she shook off the shock. “What are you doing here?”

            “I went by the mansion, thinking you were still staying there with your parents.  One of your sisters told me you had returned to your condo and gave me the address.”

            “You didn’t answer my question.”

            “Is that popcorn I smell?” she asked as she gently yet quickly pushed past Catherine.

            Seriously?

            “Ah. I did smell popcorn. And I see you have a bottle of wine already opened. No matter. We can drink both bottles,” Ava said as she pulled a bottle out of the bag.

            Catherine closed the door. “Which one of my sister’s gave you my address.”

            So I know which one to kill.

            “Huh? Oh. The one with the blonde hair,” Ava answered.

            Catherine placed her hands on her hips as she took a few steps towards Ava. “All my sisters have blonde hair.”

            Catherine had four sisters. Constance was the eldest and married with twins, then Catherine, Caitlin was third, and Chastity and Chelsea were the youngest. Chastity was born first and Chelsea followed thirty minutes later.

            “Oh. The one with the cute little nose. She wore a blue bathing suit that X-ed over her belly. She has a sister the same age. Twins? Wait I remember now. Sheila. No. Chelbea.”

            Blue bathing suit that made an X over her body.

            “Chelsea,” Catherine corrected as quick as a fly whizzing by.

            “Chelsea, right. Her.”

            Something occurred to Catherine. Ava had been in court every time at each session. Sitting in spectator saying nothing. Not approaching anyone during short recesses.

            She might know something and didn’t want to tell me in the courtroom with a bunch a people hanging around.

            “Come on, Catherine. Let’s settle in and eat this popcorn. Plus, we don’t want the wine getting hot.

            Catherine decided to play along. Make Ava feel comfortable enough to come out and say why she was really there – to tell what she knows that could help Cameron’s case. “All right,” she said sweetly.

            They settled down on the carpet in front of the television.  Ava proceeded to ask a few questions as to what Catherine did for fun when she was not in the courtroom. Lately, what has been fun for Catherine was being in the courtroom and working on current cases.

            Catherine’s cell rang.

            “Excuse me for a moment, please.”

            “Sure.”

            Catherine grabbed her phone off the coffee table. She didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

            “Catherine? This is Don Townsend.”

            “Oh. Hi, Don,” she said with surprise.

            “How are you this evening?”

            Other than having an unwelcomed guest, fine.

            “I’m fine.”

            “Good. Look. Cameron gave me your number because I was pestering him for it. I wanted to call you to ask you to dinner this Friday.”

            “Dinner . . . this Friday?” She repeated slowly. Why in the world did he want to have dinner with her? Was this about Cameron’s case? Just in case it was about the case she accepted.

            “Great! Uncle Harry was telling me how good Michael’s New York restaurant is. How is that?’

            “That’s fine.”

            “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

            “Seven o’clock Friday is fine. I’ll meet you at the restaurant.”

            “Whatever makes you comfortable. Goodnight.”

            “Goodnight,” Catherine said and clicked off.

            “Hmm. That didn’t sound like a client,” Ava fished with a smirk.

            Catherine decided to indulge her since she had a feeling Ava wouldn’t let it go until she knew who it was. “It wasn’t technically. It was my client’s cousin. He wants to have dinner this Friday.

            “A date,” Ava chirped happily.

            “No. At least I don’t think it is,” Catherine said with newfound uncertainty.

            “What makes you think it isn’t?”

            “It was Cameron’s cousin, Don Townsend. I’m sure he just wants a one on one with me to make sure Cameron has the best representation. It’s happened before. Client’s relatives drop by the office or ask me out for a meal or a drink to pick my brain to make sure I’m up to snuff.”

            “That could very well be, but it’s best to make sure you are up to snuff as you say – physically.”

            “I beg your pardon?”

            “Catherine, just in case the man is interested in you we need to make sure you are putting your best foot forward. When was the last time you had a manicure?”

            “I don’t know. A little over two months ago, I guess,” Catherine said a she shrugged. It wasn’t a guess. She knew. It was a few days before her and Bruce was supposed to get married. But she didn’t want to say that to Ava. She didn’t want to open a conversation about Bruce.

            “We have two days to get you ready.”

            “We?” Catherine repeated.

            “Yes. I’m going to help you get ready for your first big date after your break up with Bruce. This guy could be the one you were truly meant to be with.”

            “Ugh, god,” she groaned. “Ava, I don’t need any help –”

            “No offense, dear, but you do. I couldn’t help notice in court yesterday that your suit was a little . . . loose. How much weight have you lost?”

            “Eight pounds give or take.”

            “Yes. We’ll get you a nice dress for Friday night.” Then Ava looked her over quickly. “A facial, manicure, and maybe even a body wrap.”

            “I don’t need all that,” Catherine stated haughtily.

            “I’m helping you with this, Catherine. I won’t take no for an answer.”

            “And why not? It’s not like . . . we’re close friends.”

            “No. but we can be.”

            “Ava, I’m not saying I don’t want to be your friend, but don’t you have friends you have more in common with? You and I are like apples and oranges. We’re the same gender but we’re totally different.”

            “Well, my friends are . . . not like you, let’s say.”

            “I see,” Catherine slowly said like she understood but she really didn’t. “Ava, I’m going to be honest with you. I thought you sought me out because you had information about Cameron’s case.”

            “Why did you think that?”

            “Ava, you’ve come to court every time it’s been in session. Cameron said you two were just acquaintances and you and Kelly weren’t friends at all. So, I thought . . . you knew something and wanted to tell me in private.”

            “Ooooh,” she stretched out. “No. I sought you out to . . . make a new friend. We’ve known each other for years and we never spent any real time together.”

            Why would we? In age we are worlds apart. I’m thirty-six and you’re what? Twenty-five, twenty-six?

            “Uh huh. And why are you attending Cameron’s trial?”

            “Curiosity. I never witnessed a real trial before, and I wanted to see you in action. For ages I’ve heard what a good lawyer you are.”

            “I see.” Catherine wasn’t sure to believe her or not.

****

            It was Thursday, and Ava was driving Catherine crazy going to this store and that store. If she wanted to shop till she dropped, she would have gone shopping with Chelsea. But when it came to actually purchasing anything Catherine had put her foot down. She had bought three new dresses and that was it. If it was up to Ava alone, Catherine would have a whole new wardrobe.

            Now they were at the spa. Catherine had never been to Studio 21 and now she knew why. It was extremely expensive even for an heiress’s standards. They laid across from each other wrapped in cloth with mud on their faces and cucumbers on their eyes.

            As Catherine laid their getting hotter than Dante’s nine circles of hell, she wondered how she got herself into this. She didn’t even do a spa day when she was preparing for the wedding that never was. She had gotten a manicure and pedicure. That had been it. Her hairdresser was going to do her hair that morning at the church.

            This is ridiculous. What is this supposed to do other than hinder your movement and make you hot? Catherine blew out with frustration.

            “What a sigh,” Ava commented. “You’re not thinking about Bruce Hudson, are you?”

            “No.”

            “Are you sure? I’m sure you were . . . devastated after he canceled the wedding the way he did. Just so you know, everyone sympathized with you including me.”

            “Thank you, but I don’t need anyone’s pity.” That was what was worse than Bruce leaving her. The pity on everyone’s faces when they looked at her.

            “It’s not pity, dear. It’s concern. You are very popular among society.”

            Catherine scoffed ironically. “I have a hard time believing that.”

            “It’s true. Everyone says how well-bred you are and so on and so forth.”

            “Hmm.”

            “If you play your cards right, this Don Townsend could be perfect for you. Just don’t talk about the law so much.”

            “What’s wrong with talking about the law?”

            “Nothing as long as it isn’t the only thing that comes out of your mouth. What are the other things you like other than that?”

            “I like museums, Law & Order SVU, wine, and . . . and jogging.”

            Ava grunted like she was in pain.

            “What is it?”

            “That’s it? Catherine, one thing I learned when Trevor left me was I needed to broaden my horizons. At the time I was seeing him, all I cared about was shopping and going to the salon.”

            You don’t say, Catherine thought sarcastically.

            “I think that’s how I . . . lost him,” Ava said in a low tone. “I’ll probably go to my grave hating Joanna for taking him from me, but I can give the devil his due. Joanna had been going to school and now she has a career. I’m sure that made her intriguing to him. She loves art like he does. In hindsight, of course, I see why my relationship with him didn’t work out.”

            Catherine thought back to the night of Joanna’s and Trevor’s surprise reception in the Hudson ballroom. Her and Bruce had just been dating during that time. Ava had showed up with her mother, Whitney Bartholomew. Both women had been embarrassed when the news had been sprung on them. They were set up to believe Trevor was going to make some sort of public declaration to Ava.  It was a revenge plot more directed to Whitney than Ava. Whitney had set up Joanna to believe that Trevor was furious with her and was going to get revenge. Fear of feeling the Hudson family’s wrath, she had run off all the while carrying his child. Once the truth was discovered, Trevor had found out where Joanna was and had pursued her to straighten things out.

            “Ava, you know that night of the reception was directed to make a fool out of your mother because she set Joanna and Trevor up, right?”

            “Hmm. Yes, but as you know I was hurt and shocked as well. After all, you were standing in the receiving line with your now ex. You saw it all.”

            “I know. But from my end of the deal I . . . wanted to see Whitney suffer. Not you. You may not know this – or even believe it but Whitney almost broke up my parents.”

            “I didn’t know that, but I believe it,” Ava said in a dry tone. “There’s nothing my mother won’t do to get what she wants.”

            Whitney Bartholomew’s lecherous tongue had spread an awful rumor about Catherine’s father, Carlton Van Dyke, having a mistress on the Upper East Side eight years ago. Of course, this had gotten back to Catherine’s mother and she had been furious. So much so, she had started packing her bags. Fortunately, Catherine’s father had heard about the rumor and where it originated from and was able to convince her mother that it was a lie.

            Catherine didn’t blame Ava for saying that there was nothing her mother wouldn’t do to get what she wanted. Matter of fact, she was surprised she didn’t say anything worse. A few months after Trevor and Joanna’s reception, Ava had started dating Derek Dawson, a very wealthy playboy. A few months later, Ava had discovered Derek in bed with Whitney. It had been in the society pages so everyone found out about it. “I take it you’re still not on speaking terms with your mother.”

            “You take it correctly,” Ava said dryly. “Let’s not talk about her anymore. We’re supposed to be having a good time.”

            Catherine’s brain engaged. Maybe Ava was looking for a friend because her mother had been her best friend. At one point, Ava and Whitney had gone to all the social events together whether Ava had an escort or not.

            I see now, she thought with sadness.

            “Don’t forget tomorrow morning I’m taking you to my hairdresser and makeup artist.”

            “I haven’t forgotten.”

            God help me.

****

            Shopping and getting primped and puffed was more exhausting than being in court all day. No wonder some socialites didn’t work. Being a spoiled wife or widow took all day, and it was tiresome. Catherine wasn’t sure if she could take another puff session, but she already promised Ava she would show up at the salon.

            Catherine sat in the chair as Regine, Ava’s hairdresser, looked at her hair.

            “Are you a natural blonde?” Regine asked.

            “I am,” Catherine answered.

            “Lucky you. And your hair is so thick. Does your usual hairdresser have to thin it out when she cuts your hair?”

            “She does.”

            “Regine,” Ava began behind them. “I was thinking that Catherine would look totally hot with long hair. You think you can do extensions?”

            “Absolutely not,” Catherine said seriously.

            “Why not? Regine asked.

            “I haven’t had long hair since my first year in law school. I learned I’m not taken seriously if I have long hair.” She had learned that lesson the hard way. Perhaps she was more attractive with long hair, but it wasn’t worth it. One of her professors had constantly hit on her in law school along with the boys who were more players than gentlemen looking for a serious relationship. Other professors had assumed she was a primadonna and unintelligent because of her blond hair and because she was from a rich family. Her roommate had suggested she cut her hair to see if it would change people’s perception of her. Out of frustration, she did, right in her apartment bathroom. Her roommate had helped even it up in the back. And sure enough the professor’s sexual harassment ceased and the players left her alone. Her other professors stopped giving her smart aleck comments and started taking her more seriously as a student.

            “We’re talking about a date here not a court appearance,” Ava said.

            “You can pin it up for when you’re in court. We can experiment a little with different looks,” Regine.

            Ugh. I don’t have time for this. I didn’t think this would take no more than an hour.

            “I have to be at the office by eleven for a meeting,” Catherine said. “I don’t have time to get extensions.”

            “I’m quick. Did you wash your hair today?”

            “Of course.”

            “Good. We can get right to it. I’ll get my assistant to help. Once where through we’ll direct you to the make-up artist. You’re going to look like a new woman,” Regine said with a smile.

            That’s what I’m afraid of.

            “No, just trim it,” Catherine said.

            “Catherine, please, trust us. If you really hate it, you can take it out later before your date tomorrow,” Ava said in a pleading tone.

            “Ava –”

            “Please. I’ll even help you take it out if you hate it. I promise,” Ava whined.

            “Oooh, all right, just make it quick,” Catherine said to Regine through the mirror. “Please.”

****

            It is late August, therefore, too hot to have all this blasted hair.

            Catherine’s extensions went to her shoulder with big curls at the end. She admitted it looked good on her but it was too much to take care of. It wasn’t worth it to her, but Ava wouldn’t shut up or stop following her around until Catherine promised not to touch the extensions until after her date.

            “Honey, this look has taken ten years off your face,” Regine had said once the make-up artist had finished.

            Catherine had ended up buying cosmetics she really didn’t want because of Ava’s pestering. When she finally got to the building she actually exhaled with relief. Now she was where she belonged, where she was comfortable. A place that was stable. A place that didn’t let her down. Didn’t break her heart or made her feel inadequate. Her law firm.

            She walked through the lobby to the elevator. She was wearing a light blue pants suit with white heels. She had fifteen minutes before her meeting. A man stood next to her waiting for the elevator.

            They didn’t have to wait long. The silver doors opened.

            They both stepped on.

            Catherine hit the button for the eighteenth floor. Then she looked at the man.

            “Fifth floor, please,” he said with a grin.

            She hit the button.

            The man cleared his throat.  Catherine had so many associates now she couldn’t keep up with them all. When she first opened the firm, she had five lawyers under her.  Now it was sixty-seven – and that’s not counting the employees who worked in accounting and HR.

            “My name is Kyle Willington the third,” he oozed as his eyes ogled her form up and down. “I’m an attorney here at the firm and a damn good one. I haven’t seen you here before. Are you new?”

            Seriously? I’m that unrecognizable.

            Kyle began to move towards her almost pressing her against the cool wall of the elevator. “How about after work we get better acquainted at . . . the Marriott, gorgeous.”

            Catherine’s temper flared. Really? He’s propositioning someone like this he just met? What a creep!

            Catherine whipped her sunglasses off with ire. “How about I shove your law degree down your throat and squeeze your nuts so hard you’ll be hitting high notes in court for years to come!” she barked. She had heard Bruce use that line with one of Milton & Sons associates when Lance, his usually representation wasn’t available. The young attorney had more arrogance than sense and Bruce had lost his patience. Then again, Bruce never had much patience to begin with.

            “Ms. Van Dyke!” he cried with horror as he stumbled backwards. “I had no idea it was you.  Please forgive the –”

            “Do you proposition the other ladies at the firm like this?” she asked sternly.

            “No! I saw a beautiful woman and got beside myself. I . . . I …”

            The elevator doors opened.

            “Again, I am very sorry,” he whined as he rushed out the elevator.

            That didn’t stop Catherine for setting foot off it. She held her hand over the side to make sure the doors didn’t close on her. “You’ll definitely be sorry if I hear a hint of you harassing any of the ladies in my firm!” she said loudly as the creep scurried down the hall.

            Catherine got back on the elevator. She was still fuming when she got to her floor. Her office was on the top floor along with three others who were top associates. She stalked into her office.

            “Hello Miss – Ms. Van Dyke,” Carlie said with slight surprise.

            Ugh. Why is everyone acting like they never seen a woman with long hair and make-up on before?

            “Good morning, Carlie. Do I have anything pressing before my meeting at eleven thirty?”

            “No, ma’am,” Carlie answered. It appeared she had recovered rather quickly.

            “Good. I want you to contact HR and ask them if they have had any complaints concerning an associate named Kyle Willington – the third,” she ended crassly.

            Carlie quickly scribbled the name down. “Yes, ma’am.”

            “Thank you,” Catherine said and went straight to her office.

            She quickly checked her email and then walked out. Carlie followed her out the doors since she was needed to take minutes at the meeting.

            The conference room was down the hall. She was meeting with her top associates. When Catherine and Carlie walked through the doors all the talking stopped.

            It seemed like everyone in the room was staring at them.

            “Good afternoon, Catherine,” Phillip said and then cleared his throat.

            Well, at least he has enough sense to act like nothing is different.