Catherine Lanigan - Katia's Promise

Katia unfurled the towel and shook out her messy mane of coppery hair. She quickly applied black eyeliner to make the dark green of her eyes pop. She swooped on blusher and then uncapped a brand-new flame-red lipstick. The salesgirl at Macy’s had claimed it was such a powerful red, it would change her life.

Just then, Katia smelled something burning in the kitchen. The turnovers!

Tossing the lipstick onto her dresser, Katia raced, still barefoot, into the kitchen. The timer was chirping, and there was a thin stream of brown smoke coming from the oven. Using an orange pumpkin-shaped pot holder, she opened the oven and pulled out the cookie sheet of feta cheese, spinach and bacon phyllo dough appetizers.

Katia looked over the tray of golden crisp finger foods. Only one victim. I’m saved , she thought.

As she turned off the oven, the intercom rang. It was Joey, the doorman. “Miss Stanislaus. Your guests are arriving. In droves, I might add. Should I send them up?”

“Yes, Joey. Thanks.”

Katia hung up and quickly moved the hot appetizers onto a tiered serving stand. She took the stand into the dining nook, placed it strategically on the table and surveyed her work.

Katia’s apartment was small, but it had a large enough dining and living area that she could comfortably host small parties, like the engagement party she was throwing tonight for her coworker Tina and her fiancé, Allen. The kitchen was minuscule, but since Katia didn’t cook—except for when she had company—she didn’t mind. The bathroom was more of an alcove than a room, and the only saving grace in her bedroom was the walk-in closet, which housed the bounty of her bargain-hunting addiction.

The building had been constructed in the late 1950s and wasn’t very aesthetically pleasing. What it had going for it was great access to her work, security and a massive window that looked out over Chicago. Many was the night that Katia lived to see the lights glittering beneath her, as if she was walking on stars.

Katia smoothed the white cotton tablecloth she’d bought at an outlet store—yet another great bargain—and straightened the fruit platter of grapes, pears, melon wrapped in prosciutto, pineapple chunks speared with maraschino cherries, apples for dipping in caramel sauce and twin mounds of strawberries with chocolate fudge. She’d displayed an array of specialty cheeses on a slab of rough-edged marble she’d found at a granite and marble boneyard. She had four kinds of crackers and three bread selections.

She crossed to the antique marble-topped buffet on the wall next to the boring, mantel-less fireplace. This was the most important element of all—the bar.

Recently, Katia had discovered Crenshaw Vineyards while passing through her hometown, Indian Lake, on a business trip. She’d gone back four times, and now her wine rack and portable wine cooler were stocked with some of the best wines Katia had ever tasted. Katia had bought discount wineglasses and garage sale decanters, and she’d trawled eBay for the best deals on bar paraphernalia. But she never scrimped on the food and wine that she served to her guests.

Katia loved giving parties, and though she couldn’t afford florists, live music, caterers or even a bartender, she enjoyed making holidays and special events even more exceptional for her friends and coworkers. She wanted them to have happy memories.

“I want them to remember me,” Katia murmured as the doorbell rang.

Putting her hand on the doorknob, Katia scanned the room one more time. She couldn’t remember if she’d dusted the glass shelf in the bathroom or if she’d lit the scented candle in the kitchen.

There was a knock.

It was too late now for a last-minute check. Katia felt her heart pound ever so slightly, as it always did before an important meeting or a special event, then she whisked open the door.

“Hi, guys!” She beamed at Tina Goodman, her assistant at Carter and Associates, and Allen Hampton, the football coach for St. Michael’s High School. “If it isn’t the bride and groom!” The second the words were out of her mouth, Katia realized she still wasn’t wearing any shoes. She’d been so immersed in the food and decor, she’d forgotten to finish dressing. It wasn’t like her to be so scatterbrained, but she’d been noticing herself slipping up more often lately.

Allen—lean, blond and California handsome—kissed Katia’s cheek. “You look gorgeous, as always,” he said, winking at Tina and pulling her close with a possessive arm.

Katia smiled demurely. “But not as beautiful as the bride.” She squeezed Tina’s hand.

“Very diplomatic, both of you,” Tina teased. She gave Katia a quizzical look. “You’re shorter.”

“Uh! Didn’t have a chance to grab my shoes. Come in before the others get up here. I have to finish dressing.”

“We’re not early, are we?” Allen asked as Katia ushered them inside.

“No, no. It’s just me. I got behind somehow.”

Tina shook her head. “That’s hard for me to imagine.” She turned to Allen. “We call her Miss Excel at work. Because she’s so organized, we figure even her leg waxings are plugged into a spreadsheet.”

“I’m not that bad,” Katia replied defensively, showing them into the living room. “Now, if you’ll excuse me for a minute, I have to get my shoes.”

Allen grinned playfully and winked again at Tina. “Maybe some earrings, too, while you’re in there?”

Tina elbowed him and giggled.

Katia rushed to the bedroom, stuck her feet into a new pair of black Stuart Weitzman pumps and put on a pair of dangling emerald earrings and a bracelet to match. The ringing doorbell kept her from double-checking her reflection in the mirror.

On her way through the living room, she saw that Tina and Allen had found the wine bar and Allen was opening a bottle of Crenshaw Cabernet. “Thanks, guys. Oh, and open some pinot grigio while you’re at it, please?”

Katia answered the door. Filling the entrance were four couples and a single man, who stood inches taller than everyone else. His charisma dwarfed the group even more. Jack Carter.

“Welcome!” Katia beamed amid hugs and well wishes as her friends moved into the apartment. Jack was last. He bent and placed his hand on her shoulder and started to kiss her cheek, then abruptly pulled back. He smiled awkwardly, as if suddenly remembering she was his employee. He was the boss. “Thanks for inviting me, Katia.”

Jack had ironclad rules when it came to office romances. He forbade his employees from dating each other, and under no circumstances could anyone at Carter and Associates date a current or prospective client. Katia thought the rule was wise and necessary, considering the nature of their business. After all these years, however, Katia realized that the long hours and weekends she put in kept her single with a capital S .

Katia had very little time for dating, and even when she was at parties or functions, she was always scanning the crowds for new clients.

Katia was perpetually working the room. The company benefited from her dedication, but as she watched her friends gather in her living room, it struck her that all of her friends had paired up in the past few years. Tina was the only one who hadn’t gotten married yet, and this was her engagement party.

Only Katia and Jack were left.

She smiled at Jack and lifted her arm to usher him inside. “It wouldn’t be an office party without you,” she told him.

She glanced down the hall and looked back at Jack curiously. “Barry and Ava aren’t with you?”

Barry was Jack’s partner and brother-in-law. Jack’s sister, Ava, loved parties and never missed one of Katia’s gatherings. Ava had once told Katia that she secretly hoped Jack and Katia would pair up someday. As if that would ever happen.