you could make it,” Liz whispered with a smile.
“Thanks for telling me about it.”
Next to Liz was a petite elderly woman wearing a black-and-white print dress. She smiled at Katia, and her clear, cornflower-blue eyes twinkled. Katia recognized her in an instant. “Mrs. Beabots? Is that you?”
Mrs. Beabots tilted her head to the right, stared at Katia and then her smile grew wider. “Katia Stanislaus,” she said softly so as not to disrupt Austin’s speech. “Why, I’d know you anywhere, my dear. Come give me hug.”
Katia had to bend down to embrace the tiny woman. “I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Maddie and I were the first ones Austin invited!” Mrs. Beabots grabbed the hand of the pretty green-eyed woman next to her. Katia leaned over and shook Maddie’s outstretched hand. “Katia. Nice to meet you.”
“You, as well,” Maddie whispered back.
Mrs. Beabots nodded. “Maddie made the desserts. You’ll love them.”
“I’m sure I will,” Katia said.
“Maddie’s almost famous. She owns Cupcakes and Cappuccino in Chicago,” Mrs. Beabots said, beaming proudly at Maddie.
Katia’s eyes grew round. She’d been to Cupcakes and Cappuccino with Tina. “I love your café,” she whispered to Maddie. “We should talk afterward.”
Katia turned her attention back to Austin’s speech, thinking how fortuitous it was that she’d made friends with Liz. Now she was reunited with Mrs. Beabots, and she’d come face-to-face with a young Chicago entrepreneur who just might be in need of her insurance services.
Austin continued explaining the museum’s purpose and its benefit to the community. Katia counted over seventy-five people in the room. She kept her face hidden from Austin’s view by ducking behind a tall man in front of her. Fortunately, Austin was so focused on showing off his model and extolling the family history and his grandfather’s creativity that his eyes never settled on one particular face.
Behind Austin were three easels with architectural and designer drawings of the museum interior. He pointed out the features of each of the floors, and when he finished, he asked the crowd for questions.
The journalists peppered him with dozens of particulars about construction, costs and opening dates.
The entire room fell silent when a man who introduced himself as the editor of the Northern Indiana Times cocked his head and asked, “And who is the backer for this expensive museum?”
Austin pursed his lips in a self-satisfied smile, nearly bordering on a smirk. “I am.”
The editor gaped at Austin. “Let me get this straight. You didn’t invite us all here today to petition for donations?”
Austin shoved his hands into his pockets. “No, I didn’t. As I told you, I intend to pay for the building myself. Eventually, the museum will be my gift to the city.”
At the front of the room a young woman asked, “Will you be donating the cars, as well?”
Austin laughed heartily. “I’m afraid I’ll be keeping those...at least until my death, which I hope isn’t for quite some time. But they will be on loan to the city and housed in the museum. I want younger generations, especially, to understand how thrilling it must have been for the inventors of another age to literally change the way human beings live. Only the airplane and the computer have had as great an impact on our everyday lives as the automobile. I’m proud that my grandfather was a pioneer in the automotive industry over a hundred years ago. This is my way of making certain that his contribution is remembered.”
Mrs. Beabots folded her arms over her chest and mumbled something under her breath, though Katia couldn’t make out what she said.
Katia was keenly aware that the crowd was hanging on Austin’s every word. The reporters took copious notes, and people were filming and taking photos of Austin on their phones. Katia wouldn’t be the only one trying to sell Austin insurance. The difference between Katia and other agencies—she hoped—was that she was desperate to save her company, so she would take some risks that others might not. She had already placed inquiries to a dozen companies that she represented to put a package together for Austin that she hoped would make him salivate.
Austin wrapped up his speech and invited everyone to take part in the buffet that had been set out in the dining room. “There’s plenty of local Crenshaw Vineyards wine, as well. And we are graced by Liz Crenshaw herself to introduce you to the splendors of their award-winning product.”
Austin thrust his arm in Liz’s direction to point her out to the guests.
Liz stepped away from the wall and moved forward, stirring the crowd just enough to give Katia a full view of Austin.
Her eyes locked on his, and though he saw her, he didn’t seem to recognize her. Or he did, and he was a superb actor.
Austin’s hands dropped to his sides. Though he kept a smile clamped on his face, he remained rigid.
The crowd dispersed slowly, like the shifting sand after a wave has rushed onto shore.
Mrs. Beabots was the last to leave the room, and then it was just Katia standing across from Austin in the front parlor of the house she grew up in.
“Hello, Austin.”
“Katia.”
She thought her heart would hammer a hole right through her chest, but she didn’t dare let him know how much he affected her. She couldn’t decide whether to smile at him, rush to him and hold his hand or ask his forgiveness on the spot. She felt as if she’d turned to stone. She couldn’t think or move.
She was filled with blistering guilt.
“Austin, I’m so—”
His hands shot up to silence her. “Katia, leave. Now.”
“But, Austin, I want to talk to you...”
He shook his head. “Leave. It’s what you do best.”
He spun on his heel and stormed into the hall. Katia followed him out of the front parlor and stepped into the main hallway in time to see him talking to a woman carrying a tray of marinated shrimp. Katia assumed she was his cook or housekeeper.
“Daisy, there is a woman in the living room,” Austin was saying. “If she’s still there after you put that tray in the dining room, call the cops and have her removed.”
“Sure thing,” Daisy replied.
Katia watched as Austin raced up the majestic staircase and disappeared.
KATIA WAS STUNNED by Austin’s anger. If she’d ever doubted that he’d loved her once, she didn’t anymore. This degree of hatred could only be balanced by the same degree of love. A long time ago, Austin had believed in her and had finally realized that she loved him.
“But
