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I stop and look at Robin who is grinning at me.
“What’s so funny?” I demand.
Robin leaves her seat and comes over to wrap her arms around me. She squeezes me and then lets go. “You are what I’m laughing at. Listen to yourself. Are you trying to talk yourself into Blake being the bad boy you actually don’t know him to be?”
My head hurts, and I’m not sure I understood what Robin just said.
Before I can ask her to repeat it, and this time in English, a knock at the front door interrupts our peaceful evening.
With my heart beating a little faster than usual, I walk over and open up. Given my track record, I’m a little more cautious about visitors.
“Mademoiselle Katherine?”
I nod in acknowledgement.
He’s not a policeman, but the young man is wearing a uniform of sorts. He hands me a large white envelope, and is gone before I can say anything else.
Confused, I head inside and hold up the envelope for Robin to see as I sit back beside her.
“Open it, “demands Robin and watches me turn the strange stationary over.
“It doesn’t say who it’s from,” I hesitate.
This time, its Robin’s turn to roll her eyes.
Slowly, I take a silver knife from the tray and slide the envelope open. I pull out a large white invitation with purple letters on it.
Invitation for Katherineis written in the centre with a flourish. Underneath it are the wordsArt Show of Blake. Below that saysInvitation for one.
Robin reads the words the same time I do and claps her hands.
I’m confused.An art show for one?
“He’s going ahead with the art show but only inviting you.” Robin is near delirious with joy, she’s practically bouncing on her seat.
“So?” I have mixed feelings and don’t know what to make of it.
“He’s trying to make it up to you.” Robin is talking slowly as if I’ve suffered a head injury. I hear theDuh?at the end of the sentence even if she doesn’t say it. “Youaregoing, aren’t you?”
Up until she asked, I wasn’t sure. It’s so strange. What if I make another mistake?
I can’t help but notice the writing is in purple, though, not gold or black, the way these things are usually done. Had Blake remembered I told him my favorite color is purple?
“Katherine?” Robin prompts.
I look at her and make a decision. “I suppose I’ll go.”
Chapter 33
Katherine
I take a deep breath and glance at my reflection on the window of the little antique shop next to the gallery.
My knee-length black dress hugs my body and I smile. Someone once told me to feel good, you must look good. And who has not read the bookClothes Maketh the Man?
Tonight, with all kinds of insects crawling over my skin and insides, I find it is so true.
It has taken me several hours to find the perfect dress. At first I had been tempted to go in a tracksuit and sneakers. But who was I kidding? I would not feel good if I turned up looking like a tramp. And so I spend an hour trying on different outfits.
