Katia's Promise. Catherine Lanigan

attack, Katia’s party was a rousing success. The rice was fluffy, the shrimp tender and not overcooked and her homemade French bread and herb butter was gone before she could dish up seconds for Jack and Allen. While the candles flickered merrily and she served dessert with Tina’s help, everyone engaged in lively and thought-provoking conversations about the new play at the Oriental as well as city politics.

      All in all, it was the kind of evening Katia had hoped it would be. It reminded her of a time, long ago, when she’d watched intelligent and interesting people gather around a glittering dinner table at Hanna McCreary’s mansion. Katia never forgot those conversations, nor the fact that the guests had never wanted to leave Hanna’s house before midnight. Even as a little girl, Katia had absorbed every nuance of Hanna’s talent for party giving. Tonight, her studies had paid off.

      It was odd, Katia mused, as she dipped her spoon into the chocolate mousse, that Hanna should pop into her mind like that. She hadn’t thought of Hanna in a long time, though she had been Katia’s mentor in many ways.

      Was it possible that these old memories had something to do with her earlier panic attack?

CHAPTER TWO

      WITH HER HEAD propped against three down pillows, Katia sat in bed and turned on her iPad. Her guests were gone and the kitchen was clean. With the sound of the dishwasher running in the background, Katia checked her emails. She clicked through the usual sale announcements from her favorite stores and a reminder about her dentist appointment later that week, then read a note from Ava apologizing for missing the party. Katia quickly answered Ava and promised to bring some of her chocolate mousse to the office for Barry to bring home. At least they’d get a taste of the party.

      Because Katia had promised Jack that she would order a case of Crenshaw cabernet for him, she banged out a quick email to Liz Crenshaw. She’d been getting closer with Liz since her last trip through Indian Lake. Katia admired her drive and ambition, and she was impressed by Liz’s plans to expand her vineyard. Katia was also a very good customer, which had helped spark their friendship. She’d promised Liz she would recommend Crenshaw wines to all her friends. Since the wines were excellent and a good price, Katia didn’t have much trouble finding enthusiastic new customers for Liz.

      Before typing out her order, Katia asked about Liz’s grandfather’s health. Sam had undergone open heart surgery just over a month ago, and she knew Liz had been spending a lot of time caring for him. Then she asked about the case of wine and requested that Liz set aside a half dozen bottles so she could restock her bar after tonight’s party.

      Katia glanced at her digital alarm clock and was surprised it was not even ten o’clock. She was exhausted, and Jack had told her to “get some rest.” He’d mentioned something about being sharp for their Monday meeting.

      Katia didn’t have the slightest idea what he’d meant by that, but he had seemed a bit preoccupied during dinner. The more she thought about it, the more she felt dread creeping up on her like a snake.

      If there was something amiss with the company, Katia hoped Jack and Barry had enough confidence in her skills and professionalism to trust her with that information. She’d taken it as a good sign that Jack had attended the party for Tina. Her assistant was hardworking, intelligent and dedicated to the company. Katia believed that Jack recognized her own loyalty to Carter and Associates, and knew that she’d always been focused on becoming a partner. Insurance was one of the few businesses that still rewarded loyalty, longevity and impressively long client lists.

      Katia had always intended to be nothing short of a stellar employee for Jack.

      That was another reason she didn’t understand her panic attack. She’d been in a gazillion situations with Jack that many women would construe as romantic, yet they’d all been for work. They’d sailed into the sunset on Lake Michigan with clients, sipped French champagne on the lawn of a Lake Forest estate and danced to harp music at Christmas high tea at the Drake Hotel. Yet every moment had been strictly professional, in conjunction with Katia’s efforts to sign new clients.

      Jack stuck to his rules like superglue. He’d never once acted inappropriately; never held her hand or gazed at her a fraction of a second too long.

      Over the years, Katia had come to understand that Jack wasn’t into her. Period. And that had been okay.

      Until tonight.

      Tonight, Katia’s psyche, if not her conscious mind, had suddenly realized that Tina was the last of her friends to pair off. Everyone was married. Except Katia.

      She didn’t have weekend lunches or theater matinees with her girlfriends anymore. And when they did manage to get together, half of them had to rush home to kids. Or, like Ava, they had to break dates because of a sick child.

      Katia’s iPad dinged with a new email. Katia smiled as she opened the note from Liz.

      Hi, Katia,

      I’m so happy your friends like our wine so much and that you are true to your word about being my Chicago advertising advocate. I will be happy to put a case aside for you as well as the extra bottles. You can pick them up on your next trip through town. When do you think that will be? I’ve come to look forward to your visits, and though I don’t email on a daily basis, I’m apparently falling into the habit.

      We’ve been busy with the harvest, but for me, there’s been a big change. Since I saw you only two weeks ago, Gabe and I got engaged! Because you two knew each other in high school, sharing the news with you was fine with him.

      Katia groaned. “Not you, too! Is this some conspiracy?” She exhaled deeply, hoping to rid her cells of her growing envy. She read further.

      Honestly, I’ve never been into the white-dress thing, though nearly all my girlfriends are. Frankly, Gabe and I are talking about eloping. Or a seriously small wedding. Don’t say a word—not that you know that many people here anymore! We just don’t see any point in waiting another week, to be honest. Who knows, by the time you come through Indian Lake again, I may be married!

      And thank you for asking about my grandfather’s health. He’s doing amazingly well. I can’t believe it, to be honest.

      The reason we’re still up is because we just got back from driving an order into town. It was last minute and our customer can be rather demanding when he wants to be. Actually, it’s pretty exciting for us in Indian Lake. Austin McCreary—you probably wouldn’t have known him when you lived here since I think he’s quite a few years older than us. But anyway, we’re excited because he decided to build a car museum on the south side of town. He’s giving a big show-and-tell for the City Council, the Mayor and the Northwest Indiana Tourism Board members and officers. Should be around fifty people. Actually, I’m going to bartend for him, which is another chance to get our wines advertised and “out there.” But Grandpa is fine. He’ll be so pleased when I tell him that our wines were such a hit at your party.

      Let me know when you’ll be coming through town. I don’t want to miss you!

      Fondly,

      Liz

      Katia threw back the covers and shot out of bed as if she’d been set on fire. She raked her fingers through her long hair and pulled it tightly away from her face. Any thoughts of sleep were distant.

      “This isn’t happening. Austin?”

      Katia paced at the end of her bed and then left the bedroom. She went straight to the kitchen and poured a tall glass of milk, took out a full bowl of chocolate mousse and sat at her small table. Her mind raced as she shoved the mousse into her mouth.

      She’d made four trips through Indian Lake and hadn’t once thought about Austin. Oh, no. Instead, tonight, when I practically felt as if I was having a heart attack... Now he comes back to haunt me.

      She knocked back a big slug of milk. A car museum. Humph. What’s that all about, Austin? As if you need a museum.

      Katia