Enjoy the extra-long chapter...I followed my outline and this still took on a life of its own! Rest of notes to follow...
Chapter 11-Friday, April 24th
(Katniss)
Aside from the fact that she has a pounding headache that two aspirin have yet to alleviate (which is irritating in itself because she did not have that much to drink), Katniss finds it's her stomach that is causing her the most anxiety as she gets ready for work that morning.
After Peeta left last night, she hadn't been able to sleep. She read. She watched bad infomercials—and resisted the temptation to order an entire new set of kitchen knives. She played solitaire on her outdated PC for over an hour. By the time she finally laid down in her bed, her eyes still would not stay closed. She kept replaying that kiss in her mind, savoring the memory of his soft lips on hers, wishing he wasn't such a damn noble guy and hadn't stopped it when he did. Her imagination had started to run wild with all the fantasies inundating her. She was finally able to find the slumber she desperately sought when she slid her hand down the front of her panties and her fingers found her clit, already swollen and begging for relief. This time, she didn't bother to try to keep her mind off Peeta, and she definitely didn't restrain herself from conjuring up an image of his face and calling out his name when she came harder than she had in weeks.
But now she's nervous to see him. She had told herself she had been waiting for him to make a move—wasn't kissing her doing just that? Yet when she had taken a risk and tried to initiate more, he had pulled away. Her stomach roils with unease again. Is it possible she has been misreading his signals all along?
The drone of her buzzer interrupts her while she's brushing her teeth and getting ready for her run. Toothbrush sticking out of her mouth, she pads to the door and pushes the button. She manages to get out a "Yeah?" around the foam.
"Catnip, it's me."
Her heart thumps at the sound of Gale's voice through the tinny speaker. She presses the release on the door, giving him access to the building and rushes back to the bathroom, spitting the toothpaste into the sink and rinsing her mouth with water. A few seconds later, there is a gentle knock at the door.
"Peace offering," he says, thrusting a small white bag at her when she throws her apartment door open. His other hand holds a tray with two coffees, and his handsome face is earnest and remorseful. She takes the tray from him, sets it down on the small kitchen table and wraps her arms around him.
"I'm sorry," she whispers, his broad chest muffling her words. He squeezes her tighter and then pulls back.
"I'm sorry too," he answers as they both take their coffees and the white bag to the couch. "I should apologize for blindsiding you with my news the other night. I didn't think twice about bringing Madge along and that you might have been upset by it. I was just so excited to share our engagement with you and—"
She places a hand on his knee and shakes her head vehemently. "Stop. You weren't wrong. I was. I was awful to you the other night. I shouldn't have been so negative. You're my best friend, Gale. I told you when we broke up that that would never change." She stares down at her coffee and takes a quick sip, a smile instantaneously lighting her face. French vanilla with a little bit of cream and two sugars—he does still know her better than anyone. "I'm happy for you," she continues. "I really, really am. And I'm sorry if I was being a selfish bitch by letting my own fears get in the way of that."
"There's nothing to be afraid of, Catnip," he says gently. "This isn't going to change things between us, I promise. If we could get past all the bullshit after we broke up, you and I can weather anything." Then he reaches over and puts his coffee cup on the end table, taking her free hand in one of his and using the other to playfully swipe under her eye. "Is that a tear I see?" he teases and she swats at his hand. "I've seen you cry three times, and two of those times were when your parents died." He snickers. "And the other was when you watched My Dog Skip."
"Fucking dogs. If there's a dog in a book or a movie, there's like a 99 percent chance it's gonna die by the end, right?" They laugh together and she leans her head against his shoulder. "I love you, Gale. You know that."
"I do," he replies quietly. "And I love you. That won't ever change because I'm in love with Madge and plan to spend the rest of my life with her. Don't be afraid of that."
She sighs and opens the white bag that rests beside them on the couch and breaks the cheese Danish in half, offering him a piece. They chew in silence until she swallows the last bite of hers and clears her throat. "We're still going to be able to hang once in a while just the two of us right? I mean, since you moved back here we haven't spent much time together and I guess that's what I was upset about."
"I promise you I'll do a better job making time for that," he agrees, taking a long swig of his coffee.
"And I'll also try and reach out to Madge, okay? There's no reason why she and I can't be friends, right? She was always nice to me in high school."
Gale's grey eyes flicker happily. "That would mean the world to me, Catnip." He leans back against the cushions and studies her carefully. "I can't believe you won the lottery," he muses.
"I didn't win the lottery," she corrects. "Peeta Mellark won the lottery, and I happened to be in the right place at the right time. Sheer dumb luck–isn't that what the lottery is all about anyway?"
"You really believe that things don't happen for a reason? That life really is just about chance and luck?"
She shrugs and sips her coffee contemplatively. "I don't know. Maybe it's a little bit of both?"
"Will you finally get the hell out of this shithole of an apartment and get yourself a nicer place now that you've got the cash?"
"Are you going to house hunt with me?" she teases.
He nods emphatically. "If you wanted me to, I would. I'd have gone car shopping with you tomorrow too if you had asked."
She laughs. "I think Prim and Rory are kind of looking forward to it, actually."
She leans into him again and they ruminate about their younger siblings getting together. She's a little annoyed to learn that Gale has known about the relationship for weeks now. But then she gets him to change the subject by asking about how he proposed to Madge, and the animated, giddy manner in which Gale relates the whole scenario tells Katniss all she needs to know about her friend finding true love. She's never seen him, for lack of a better word, glowing like he is at the moment.
"Peeta Mellark, huh?"
She narrows her eyes at him. "Don't start with me, Gale. We're having a nice moment."
He downs the rest of his coffee and puts down the empty cup. "I'm not starting with you. I'm just surprised. He was so into you in high school and suddenly here he is, giving you winning lottery tickets and playing the hero. And if he's married—"
"He's not. I mean, he is, but he's filed for divorce," she explains, tucking her feet up underneath her. Gale gives her a reproachful look. "What? He took the ring off and everything."
"That doesn't make it better. If he's getting divorced that's bound to get messy and you don't want to get yourself caught in the middle of something." He reaches over and takes her hand. "Katniss," he begins seriously, "you know how much I want you happy. I'm glad you kicked that fucker Cato to the curb."
She hesitates, considering whether she should tell Gale about Cato's behavior over the past few days. "Yeah, I should have listened to you about him," she replies simply, earning an expression of mock indignation on Gale's face.
"Did Katniss Everdeen just admit I was right about something? First an apology and now another "you were right, Gale"? Are you really my Catnip?"
She smacks him playfully. "Shut up."
He traps her hand in his again. "I'm being serious now. The right guy is out there for you. You just need to keep looking."
"I know," she replies sullenly, shifting on the couch again and pulling her knees to her chest as she rests her chin there. She swallows. "But I like Peeta, Gale. I really like him. He could be the one," she adds softly.
He sighs and draws her into his side where she nestles into the crook of his arm. "Then be careful. I guess that's all I can say."
After a little more chatter Gale leaves for work and she goes for her run and showers. She gets ready for work and walks the few blocks, dismayed to learn that Peeta is not at the restaurant when she arrives. Apparently, he switched with Thresh and he's closing that night and won't be in until around one. Finnick gives her a warm greeting when she enters the kitchen and puts away her things in the office.
"So I heard you're joining us at the epicurean gala?" he says with a grin.
"Yeah, it sounds like a nice evening," she replies, locking her purse in the drawer. "I'm going to have to find something to wear. That dress I wore to the press conference was probably the nicest thing I own."
"Go to Peeta's brother-in-law's place. Annie always gets her dresses from Cinna."
"Yeah?"
Finnick nods. "He does amazing work, and he's one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet."
"Well, okay. Maybe I'll check it out."
"I think it's great you're coming. I can't wait for you to meet Annie. She's going to be a wreck being away from Nick for a night, but it will do her good. And she'll be thrilled not to have to spend the night bullshitting with Glimmer for once."
"Annie doesn't like Glimmer either?"
Finnick throws his head back in a laugh, his aqua eyes sparkling. "Are you kidding? I don't know anyone who likes Glimmer—and who could like the nasty woman who's been parading around making my best friend's life miserable for the last year and a half?"
Katniss can't resist digging for information with Finnick's disdain for Peeta's wife so apparent. "Was she always like this? I just can't picture Peeta falling for a girl like her. I mean, the girls he dated in high school were always blonde and pretty, but they were all nice enough. Did she change or something?"
Finnick looks thoughtful as he contemplates her words. "Peeta would tell you she's changed." She quirks an eyebrow at him, and he smiles wanly. "But I don't think she changed. If you ask me, Katniss, this is the real Glimmer. Spoiled, spiteful, cold…Peet was just too caught up in being in love to see it." He sighs. "And I think bringing home a girl like Glimmer to his parents—his mother in particular—well, I think he thought he could finally do something to match up to Grant. That's his oldest brother."
Katniss vaguely remembers that Peeta' eldest brother was some kind of football god at their high school. She doesn't recollect anything about the middle one—in fact, she's heard more about Kieran Mellark in the past week than she ever knew about him before.
"His mother is hard on him?" she asks.
"She's awful," Finnick shudders. "Nothing Peeta does is ever good enough. I mean, he's turned Thirteen-12 into a success from the ground up, mostly on his own. You know she's never even set foot in our restaurant?"
She's shocked. "His mother? No? Not once?"
Finnick shakes his head. "His dad comes in from time to time. You can tell he's proud. But his mother, man…I always thought Peet was joking in college when he'd talk about his mom. Then I met her." He does a mock shudder and laughs bitterly. "Peeta was actually being nice with the things he said."
"Peeta's such a good guy. How can someone not be proud of him?" She notices Finnick's lips have curved into a half smile. "What?"
He shakes his head and chuckles. "He is a good guy. It's a shame you didn't see it sooner. How did you two not hook up in high school?"
"What?" she exclaims, her eyes rounding comically at his question.
"I can see it, Katniss. It's really obvious. You two can't keep your eyes off each other when you're in the same room."
"I…I, no…Finnick…I don't…" She's so flustered that she can't manage a coherent thought. Has she been that transparent with her feelings for Peeta? Finnick's words ease her mind, though, given her paranoia earlier that morning. Maybe Peeta does want her too.
Finnick stands and places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Katniss. Don't worry about it. You haven't done anything wrong, and I know Peeta never cheated on Glimmer. But let me give you some advice. That marriage is over. Don't feel guilty about anything from this point on. You said it yourself: Peeta's a good guy. He deserves to be with someone who is truly gonna make him happy, give him what he wants and all that he deserves from life. I've known him long enough to say I think that someone could be you."
She blushes and fiddles with the chain of her necklace, considering Finnick's speech. "I like him, Finnick. A lot," she confesses, and saying the words again after having first confided in Gale lifts a weight from her soul. "But he's the one who's ending a marriage, and I won't complicate things for him. When he's ready, he'll show me."
Finnick's smile widens and he places a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."
"Thanks," she says, her flush deepening as she exits the office and heads back to the front of the restaurant to get ready for the day's business.
They've been open for about ten minutes when an older blonde woman steps through the front door, her hair carefully coiffed and a large pair of black sunglasses dominating her face. She slides the glasses down the bridge of her nose and glances around the foyer critically.
"Good morning, welcome to Thirteen-12," Katniss greets her, plastering a warm smile on her lips. "Are you dining alone today or will others be joining you?"
The woman turns her attention to Katniss, and the blue eyes rake over her disparagingly. She looks familiar, but the icy look she gives Katniss makes her apprehensive.
"I'm not here to dine," she says curtly. "I'm here to see my son."
Katniss swallows nervously. That's why she looks familiar. Peeta's mother raises a sculpted eyebrow at her. Her stomach twists for him—didn't Finnick tell her just moments ago that Mrs. Mellark had never set foot in Thirteen-12? And now here she is? This can't be good.
"Peeta doesn't come in until one today," she replies. "I can let him know that you stopped by."
Mrs. Mellark's eyes flash with irritation. "Perhaps I'll just sit and wait for him then. He's not being a very good son ignoring his mother's phone calls and text messages."
She decides to kill the older woman with kindness. "I can show you to a table while you wait. Peeta plans each day's specials and he has a wonderful Oriental salad and crab cakes on the menu this afternoon."
But Mrs. Mellark ignores Katniss and carefully arranges herself on the plush lobby bench, pulling out an iPhone and dropping her arctic blue eyes to the screen. Katniss heaves a sigh and returns to the podium, the tension in the air pregnant as his mother sporadically cuts those eyes in her direction. Reaching for her own phone, she taps out a text message to Peeta, telling him his mother is at the restaurant. His reply is immediate—I'll be right there.
And he is—within minutes, though she is not expecting to see him in a sweaty Adidas tee shirt that clings to his defined pec muscles and sweat shorts, his blond hair damp. God, the swell of his biceps under the sleeves does things to her, and she feels herself getting warm. He gives her a quick smile before turning his attention to his mother, who is patently pretending she has not seen Peeta enter the restaurant. "Hello, Mother."
"Peeta. What a surprise," she replies coolly, slipping her phone back into her Hermes bag and rising from the bench, shooting a knowing glare at Katniss. "You couldn't clean yourself up a little?"
"I just got done at the gym and was about to get in the shower. What are you doing here?" he asks pointedly.
"A mother can't come visit her son at his establishment?"
"A mother can. You don't. You never have."
Mrs. Mellark's face tics subtly, but she suppresses any other reaction. "You didn't answer any of my calls or messages yesterday. We need to talk." She slides her eyes at Katniss once more. "Alone."
Peeta shakes his head, a bead of sweat meandering down his temple along his cheek and past his jaw. "You've come to my place of business. Katniss is doing her job, and she needs to be exactly where she is."
"She does not need to be privy to this conversation, Peeta. Not when it involves your wife."
"Glimmer's not going to be my wife anymore, Mother. I can assume from your presence here that she came crying to you?"
"She was quite upset, yes. Devastated, frankly. What is wrong with you, Peeta?" she reprimands him sharply, and Katniss wishes she could leap to his defense.
"I told you last week at brunch that I wouldn't make the same mistake Dad did. Apparently you don't listen to me any more than Glimmer does. I told her our marriage was over and I moved out."
His mother folds her arms across her chest and levels her gaze at her son as the front door opens and a group of middle-aged women bustle through, giggling like teenagers. As Katniss greets them and counts out menus, she hears Mrs. Mellark say in a hushed voice through clenched teeth, "Enough. This is not the place for this discussion. You have an office here so let's go there. Now."
Peeta sighs and brushes his sweaty curls off his forehead. "Fine." He gives Katniss a sympathetic smile and mouths 'thanks' as he leads his mother past the hostess stand and through the dining room.
She seats the women at a large booth in the rear of the restaurant where they can chatter and be noisy and not disturb as many other diners when the room eventually fills up, and when she returns to the foyer, Finnick is lounging on the podium, shaking his head at her.
"What?"
"It's like she has a beacon or something."
"Oh, because we had just been talking about how she had never been here?"
Finnick nods. "Exactly."
"She's only here because she figured Peeta would be. She's probably pleading Glimmer's case to him right now," Katniss explains, summarizing the little bit of conversation she overheard.
Finnick rolls his eyes. "Glimmer's biggest fan. And no shock, they're like clones of each other. A psychologist could probably have a field day with that one."
Katniss is about to answer when a rush of male guests flood the foyer. Finnick gives them a toothy grin and welcomes them and when they ask for a table for twelve, he nods to Katniss to begin arranging a space large enough to accommodate them. She heads into the dining room and informs Iris, one of their best servers, that she's going to put a few tables together and seat her with a large party. She knows the pretty waitress is thrilled—businessmen dining together generally leave generous tips when their company is footing the bill.
After Katniss has gotten them settled and resumed her post behind the hostess stand, she answers a few phone calls and finds herself nervously nibbling on a fingernail, anticipating Peeta's mother leaving. But it takes nearly twenty more minutes before she hears Peeta's voice. By then, the lunch rush is well underway, and as she is seating a party of two she only catches a glimpse of him leading his mother back to the front of the restaurant. His mother's visage is still stony, and Peeta looks exhausted. She hastily gets the older women settled at their table, tells them who their server will be and bolts back to the front. Peeta leans over the host stand talking quietly to Finnick, who stands shaking his head, his eyes stormy.
When he turns and meets her eyes, she offers him a compassionate smile. Finnick wriggles his eyebrows at her and slips away, leaving them alone.
"Thanks for the heads up," Peeta says.
"No problem," she replies quietly. "I didn't think you wanted to be railroaded when you got to work and figured it'd be better to see what she wanted sooner than later."
"And I appreciate it." He tousles his hair, which is now nearly dry, though a few patches of sweat still remain on his shirt. "My mother has actually never been in this place til this morning."
"I know. Finnick told me." She pauses, studying his expression. "Did you want to talk about it?"
He reaches over and covers her hand with his, giving it a gentle pat. "Not much to talk about. She took Glimmer's side just as I expected. Thinks I'm being cruel and heartless and that no Mellark has ever been divorced before and I'm as big a disgrace to the family as Kieran is. I got the 'thank God for Grant' speech a few times."
She's appalled that his mother could say such things to her flesh and blood and side with the woman who has treated him like shit for months. Her heart aches for him. "You're not a disgrace," she says emphatically. "It's her loss if she doesn't see what an amazing son she has. Don't listen to her."
"It's getting easier to do just that," he admits, rubbing the back of her hand with his thumb. "I'm going to go back to the hotel and shower and I'll see you in a bit."
When he returns, however, he keeps to himself and he barely looks up when she bids him goodnight a little before five.
She spends most of the evening picking up and setting down her phone, debating sending him a text or calling him or taking a cab to the hotel and buying him a drink. But she chickens out on all three accounts and nods off watching an old Cary Grant movie on AMC.
And when she awakens at almost two in the morning and checks her phone, she can't hide her disappointment that he never reached out to her either. Discouraged, she changes into her pajamas and falls into a discomfited sleep.
"Come on, Katniss, you aren't really going to drive yourself to this thing, are you? I know now that you'll have a fancy new car you want to show it off and all but if you fucking drive you can't drink and let yourself go."
Katniss glances at Johanna in the mirror and gives her a pointed glare as she looks back to critically study her reflection in the glass. "Yes, I am going to drive. I'm not planning to get completely smashed, Jo. This is a work function. I'll be with my bosses."
"You can come with Thresh and me then. He's getting a limo." She grins widely. "This is like our first real thing together that doesn't involve dinner or drinks."
"Funny, I thought the gala was all about dinner and drinks."
Johanna chuckles and raises her middle finger. "Fuck you." She grins and gestures to the mirror. "I like that one."
"I like it too," Madge pipes up. "God, you're so skinny. I would kill to be able to wear a dress like that." Johanna rolls her eyes, and Katniss hides a smile. The petite blonde may have a few more curves than either of them, but she's not even close to needing to lose a few pounds.
Gazing at her reflection again, Katniss purses her lips. She's not sure about the dress at all. For one thing, it's far sexier than anything she has ever dared to wear. The deep plunge of the neckline practically dips to her navel, and one move the wrong way would easily expose a breast. "I don't know," She pulls at the silky fabric and frowns at herself in the mirror. "I feel like I'm just waiting to fall out of this."
"That's what double-sided tape is for," Johanna replies gleefully. "And if it slips, well, you'll give Peeta quite the show."
"Johanna, shut up. Besides, I'm not sold on the color either."
"What the fuck is wrong with black? I'm wearing black."
"This gala sounds like so much fun." Madge sighs. "I wish I was going."
"It's a charity thing," Johanna says. "You can buy a ticket and wine and dine with the rest of the peons."
"You're going to be going to plenty of these kinds of functions if Gale stays in politics, Madge," Katniss calls over her shoulder.
To show Gale she was sincere in her intentions to include Madge in her meager social circle, she had extended an invite to his fiancée to join her and Johanna when they visited Peeta's brother-in-law's dress shop on Sunday morning to find Katniss a dress for the gala. Wasn't that the sort of thing girlfriends did together? She had honestly expected Madge to politely decline, as it was a Sunday and it was short notice, but Madge had accepted excitedly and was already waiting outside the dress salon when she and Johanna arrived together at eleven.
"How are we doing?"
Katniss whirls around at the gentle timber of the voice, and she sees Cinna, the owner of the salon smiling at her. She had liked Cinna immediately. He's a striking man, very attractive, with skin the color of nutmeg and golden-flecked eyes that he rims with gold eyeliner. From the moment the ladies had entered the store, he had made them feel at home, plying them with cappuccinos, and the women had spent nearly an hour combing through the gowns that Cinna had selected for Katniss.
"I'm not sure about this one," she hedges, meeting Cinna's eyes in the mirror as she turns back to face it. He ventures forward to stand before her, cocking his head to the side.
"Wait here," he orders, his full lips twisting into a secretive smile. He disappears again.
Katniss taps her foot on the pedestal, making faces at herself in the mirror. Johanna's head is lowered, her fingers tapping out a text message, and Madge is dreamily perusing the small selection of bridal gowns that Cinna has in the front corner of the boutique. Johanna finally glances up at Katniss. "Brainless, my shift starts at Cray's in twenty minutes. You can't possibly have not seen at least one thing that you liked."
"Oh, I liked a few of them," she concurs. "But nothing that I loved."
Johanna smirks at her. "I don't see what it matters. If you play your cards right, Peeta won't care what you're wearing because all he'll be thinking about is how to get it off of you to fuck you til next Tuesday."
"Jo, I said to shut up." But this time, a whorl of desire curls through her stomach at her friend's lascivious suggestion. She thinks again about him in his workout clothes yesterday and envisions those sturdy biceps bearing his weight as he drives into her.
"You can't tell me you're not thinking the same thing."
"Fuck off," she growls, feeling the heat creep onto her cheeks.
"You know you're going to need to get new underwear, Everdeen. Granny panties don't cut it under clingy evening gowns. Do you even own a thong?"
"Okay, you can leave now," Katniss retorts. "You're not helping." She ignores Johanna's cackles as Cinna returns, a colorful gown draped over his right arm. Madge wanders back over to settle next to Johanna on an ottoman.
"I cannot believe I almost forgot about this," he muses, extending his arm and holding up the dress for Katniss to see. "Why don't you take this one and see what you think?" He motions to the changing room, and she steps down off the pedestal and closes herself back in the fitting room. She shimmies out of the black gown, places it back on its hanger and turns her attention to the last dress. She steps into it, drawing the satiny fabric up over her hips and slipping her arms through the slender, jewel-encrusted straps. It fits her like a second skin, so as she reaches behind to draw up the zipper, she cannot reach it.
"Cinna?" she calls.
"You need help?"
She opens the door, and Johanna gasps, her hand covering her mouth. Madge squeals and claps her hands together. And a slow, knowing smile crosses Cinna's face, his countenance bright with approval.
"That's it." He grins, urging her up onto the pedestal again as he fastens the zipper and flounces the skirt up so it falls like rippling silk past the dropped waistline. "Perfect."
She scrutinizes her reflection for the umpteenth time that morning, and she blinks several times to reconcile the sight. The gown is exquisite. She has to admit she'd never have given the color a second glance; it's a soft, muted orange through the bodice and waist; tight, horizontal bands of fabric hugging her the curves of her breasts and hips where the dress yields to a narrow column of soft, flawless satin of a deeper orange hue. The hem at the bottom is nearly red; if she twirls just right, she realizes with a swish of her hips, she resembles a kindling flame.
Cinna nods modestly. "That's the one."
"Shit, Katniss, it's amazing." It's the closest to speechless she has ever seen Johanna.
"Really?" she whispers, still awestruck at her reflection. They all nod in unison.
"You look incredible," Madge adds.
"I don't know why I didn't give you this one in the first place. It's Peet—" He stops himself, clearing his throat softly. "You will look radiant. And it scarcely needs alterations. It's like it was meant for you," he finishes. But her curiosity is piqued. Cinna clearly caught himself before he revealed something he shouldn't have—something about Peeta.
He brings her a pair of heels to step into when she describes the silver sandals she's planning to wear, estimating the height she'll be when she's in them. He makes a few measurements and pins the gown in a few places and assures her it will be ready by Friday the 8th—Katniss smiles to herself. A new gown as just as good a birthday present to herself as anything else she might have bought.
Johanna bids her goodbye to head to Cray's, but not before she reminds Katniss to pay a quick visit to Victoria's Secret and get some sexier undergarments. The gown has cups sewn into the bodice—not that her breasts require much support—but Johanna is right, she doesn't own a thong, and she doesn't care go commando as Johanna gleefully boasted she would be doing.
She redresses and follows Cinna to the front of the boutique where Madge is eagerly discussing her visions for a wedding gown to the designer. Katniss figures if anything, asking Madge to join her this morning has earned Cinna another customer. Madge seems enamored with what she's seen in the shop.
Katniss begins rummaging in her purse for her wallet. Cinna draws up an invoice, but he holds out a hand when she produces her debit card.
"It's been paid for," he replies softly, his amber eyes sparkling mischievously. Katniss sighs and shakes her head.
"He can't, Cinna," she grouses, slapping the card against the counter. "I have money now, thanks to him."
"He insisted, Katniss. And I don't argue with my brother-in-law." She heaves a sigh and signs the contract for the dress as Cinna hides another smile. "I'll see you in two weeks."
She and Madge exit the shop; Katniss squints in the bright sunlight. The two women stand on the sidewalk, and Katniss clears her throat. She didn't really consider spending much more time with Madge than the dress store, but she feels like she should at least ask her to continue on to the next store with her. "So, um, do you want to come with me to Victoria's Secret? We could, ah, get lunch after?"
Madge's smile widens. "That sounds really nice, Katniss, thanks. But I'm actually going to meet Gale and my parents for brunch so we can pick a date and get going on the wedding plans." She lurches forward and enfolds Katniss in a tight hug. Katniss's hands hang awkwardly at her side before she responds and hugs the girl back. "Thank you so much for inviting me this morning. I had so much fun and I think I've found the place where I'll be getting my dress."
"Yeah, Cinna does do amazing work," Katniss agrees.
"We will do lunch one day when you're off work okay? And I'll have to come by and try Peeta's restaurant. It's been forever since I saw him." She gives Katniss a little wave and sets off in the opposite direction.
Satisfied with the morning so far, she walks the five blocks to the plaza where the lingerie store is located. A chirpy sales associate greets her as soon as she steps through the door, carrying on about which panties are on sale and if she buys a bra, she'll get ten dollars off. Katniss waves her off, intending to find what she's looking for quickly and get the hell out of the store.
But as she wanders through the aisles, scanning the tables of various undergarments, her eyes land on a rack of tiny, sheer nightgowns. Her first reaction is how uncomfortable it must be to sleep in something that barely covers what it's intended to cover, but then her mind wanders to a vision of Peeta ripping it from her body as he hovers above her. She feels her body beginning to respond to the daydream and her mouth goes dry. She's never stopped to consider the delicate negligees serve a far more important purpose than sleepwear—she's never had anyone she'd even want to don one for.
So when she finally locates the perfect pair of panties—a little scrap of pale orange lace that almost perfectly matches the gown from Cinna's—she can't help but gather a few other items from throughout the store and when she leaves several minutes and two hundred dollars later, it's with a small bulging pink-and-white striped bag. It never hurts to be prepared.
When she pulls into the small parking lot behind Thirteen-12 on Tuesday morning, having picked up her new car after leaving work on Monday, she's surprised to find Peeta sitting in his car, his iPad balanced on the steering wheel. She raps her knuckles on the window and he glances at her, a wide smile curving his lips up. He quickly shuts down the iPad and exits the car, grinning more broadly at Katniss's new car.
"You didn't go for broke?" he teases, walking around to admire the Infiniti G coupe.
She laughs softly. "Believe me, this was enough of a leap of faith for me. I'm not a fancy car girl at all. Prim would have liked to see me in a BMW or a Benz, and Rory tried to get me to get a convertible but really, this is nicer than I ever expected."
"It's beautiful," he agrees. "Congratulations."
"Thanks." She gives him a suspicious look. "Were you waiting out here for me?"
"Maybe," he teases. "I kind of didn't think you'd go through with it. I can rest a little easier knowing you won't be walking around in the dark when you leave here or Abernathy's. Speaking of which, have you had any visits from Cato since, ah, since the other night? Any phone calls?"
"Actually," she starts locking her car and following him through the rear door of the restaurant, which leads directly to the back of the house. "One text message Saturday morning asking me to meet him for drinks and talk—"
He interrupts, voice firm. "And you didn't, right?"
"I never replied back. Haven't heard from him since." She shrugs. "I don't know what to make of him, really."
"Well, stay alert, okay?"
He makes polite conversation with her as she puts away her things. Katniss is off weekends as per Annie's part-time schedule, but she finds herself wishing she logged more hours at Thirteen-12. She enjoys her time there—a stark contrast from the shifts she toiled at Cray's. The restaurant had been surprisingly busy Monday afternoon, and she had only managed a few words with Peeta, who had been in a staff meeting when she arrived and spent the day holed up in the kitchen messing with a large pastry sheet and an array of fruits. She had worried he was avoiding her and spent most of her Monday evening shift at Abernathy's obsessing over the thought.
But the conversation flows easily this morning, much to her relief. He asks her about her weekend and how it was spending time with Prim and Rory. She admits that the more she sees them together, the more she accepts that they are a really good match and she's happy that they decided to cross the line from friends to lovers, though she still tries not to think about her sister sleeping with anyone.
When she questions him about his own weekend, he shrugs nonchalantly. "Didn't do much. I was here most of it. Oh, I took my oldest nephew to the zoo yesterday morning before I came here to close. That was an adventure." He grins. "But it got me out of brunch with my family so it was a relative success for that reason alone."
She smiles, picturing him walking around the zoo, holding the hand of one of the tow-headed boys from the photo on his desk. "I bet your nephews adore you," she says.
"Not much impresses them," he replies. "They're pretty spoiled kids. But they're not my kids, so I get to do my thing when I'm with them and then send them back to my brother and his wife."
"I'm sure your mother was thrilled by your absence at brunch."
Peeta smirks knowingly. "Haven't said a word to her since she left here Friday. She made it clear where her allegiance lies. I did talk to my father for a long time on Friday night. He made me feel much better."
The office phone rings, and Katniss reaches over to answer it, handing the phone to Peeta when a deep baritone asks for Mr. Mellark or Mr. Odair. He holds up a hand. "Thanks. I'll pick up in my office." And with that, he disappears from the smaller office and she hears the door next door close soundly.
She doesn't see him again for the next hour as the morning staff begins to filter in. Katniss has just finished refilling the bowl on the hostess stand with mints and is rearranging the matchbooks when there is a loud knocking at the front door. She peers out of the glass she cleaned only a little while earlier and spies a man in a three-piece suit. She hesitates then opens the door and leans out. "Hi, sir, we're not open for business for another half-hour. Can I help you with something?"
He eyes her critically. "Are you Katniss Everdeen?"
Her pulse picks up its pace at his clipped tone. "I am," she replies uneasily.
The man nods and thrusts a thick packet at her. "You've been served." And he turns on his heel and stalks off up the street, leaving her stunned, staring at the papers in her hand. Served? She feels nauseous as she unfolds the papers and scans the lines of print until her eyes land on the words "alienation of affection." What the fuck does that mean? Her throat constricts, and she swallows again in an attempt to dislodge the golf ball-sized lump that has formed. Glimmer's name is in clear, bold print above the word 'plaintiff' and she sees her own name designated "defendant." She goes back to the top of the documents and reads carefully, the bile threatening to rise as the picture slowly comes into focus: Glimmer is suing her, alleging Katniss is to blame for the failure of her marriage to Peeta.
She clutches the papers in her hand and walks briskly to the offices in the back. Pounding her fist on Peeta's door, she's glad that Finnick has the day off and Thom is out on the floor, conducting a brief meeting with the bar staff. When Peeta doesn't respond immediately, she knocks again and waits. She chews on her lip anxiously as she grows more impatient, her heart thrumming wildly.
"Come in. It's open!"
Katniss takes a breath and turns the knob, pushing the door open a crack. Peeta is hunched over his desk, a pair of reading glasses perched low on the bridge of his nose. Her lips tug into a wry smile at the sight; she's never seen him wear them before, and if it's at all possible they only make him more attractive. He glances up and spies her in the doorway and his blue eyes light up.
"Why are you waiting out there? I said you could come in." He pulls the glasses off and sets them down on the desk as he focuses his gaze on her again.
"I've never seen you in glasses before," she says as she closes the door behind her. He laughs.
"I only wear them when I'm doing the books," he confesses.
"They probably have software for that." She chews on her lip, shuffling on the balls of her feet.
"We have the software. I usually load the numbers into it after the fact. There's just something to be said for doing the math by hand. It's how my dad always did it at the deli, and he made out just fine. But Finn and I have discussed hiring someone to do the accounting for us with how well everything is going. And I've been thinking a lot about getting back in the kitchen."
Peeta's handsome face alters when she remains quiet. He rises from his chair and comes around from behind his desk. Leaning against it, he places his hands on either side of his hips, bracing his weight on the desktop. "Katniss, what's wrong?" She presses her lips together and slowly moves towards him, extending a hand to show him the papers. His bright blue eyes shift back and forth, his blond brows knitting in confusion, his mouth moving wordlessly as he reads. "What is this?"
She feels her lower lip tremble and bites down again to still it. "I think it means your wife is suing me for ruining your marriage."
His eyes go round and he stands up. "What the fuck? That can't be. We didn't…" He trails off and glances down at the papers again. "How the hell did she do this? She's fucking crazy. Let me call Plutarch. He'll get this straightened out."
She listens patiently as Peeta speaks with his lawyer, though her pulse continues its frantic staccato through her veins and the tiny muscle below her right eye that sometimes twitches when she's nervous hasn't stopped ticking since Peeta picked up the phone. It seems like he talks to Plutarch forever, but the conversation really only lasts a few minutes. Peeta remains quiet, but his agitation is evident on his face. "Okay. She's right here. I'm going to put you on speaker phone, alright?" He nods to Katniss and presses the button on the phone. "Plutarch, go ahead."
A thick Southern drawl fills the room. "Hi there, Katniss."
"Hi, sir."
"Call me Plutarch, darling. 'Sir' makes me feel like a buttoned-up old fogie. Listen, you've got nothing to worry about. I'll take care of getting this horseshit lawsuit thrown out if you'll let me represent you."
"Plutarch and his partner are the best, Katniss," Peeta assures her.
"Okay," she agrees. "What do I need to do?"
Plutarch informs Katniss that it would be best if she came by his office and they discussed a few things in person. Peeta quickly offers to escort her tomorrow, and Plutarch booms that he'll see them at nine a.m. Satisfied for the time being, Peeta thanks the lawyer and replaces the receiver on the phone. He walks towards her and reaches out, placing his hands on her upper arms, rubbing them reassuringly.
"Everything is going to be okay," he begins. "You heard Plutarch. Glimmer doesn't have a case, Katniss. These kinds of tort lawsuits are nearly impossible to prove even if there is adultery between one spouse and the third party." He tries to paraphrase the lawyer's words the best he can as he explains alienation of affection torts are rarely successful, as the spouse who is suing must prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that the marriage would never have ended if not for the third party. Plutarch said there were far too many mitigating circumstances in his case to pin anything solely on Katniss's shoulders. In spite of this, Katniss can't quell the nausea cresting in her stomach.
"I don't trust her. She said she'd get revenge on me. You heard her the other day."
He nods. "I just don't understand how she got you served so quickly. She had to have gone right to a lawyer after she left here Thursday morning. I mean, shit, Plutarch is very efficient and it took him a few days to draw up my papers before I could file. And the courts are closed on weekends."
She watches him grow more agitated, and her stomach pitches again. "I'm sorry," she murmurs sadly.
"For what?" he whispers, training his eyes on her. Her pulse resumes its accelerated pace at the imperceptible darkening she suddenly sees in the vibrant blue irises. She looks away quickly before her resolve shatters and she kisses him like she did the other night—but today, she won't have Cato as a convenient excuse for getting caught up in the moment.
He takes his index finger and angles her chin back to meet his eyes again, and she gets flustered. "For…?" But she can't find the words. He shakes his head at her. "See? You don't even know what to be sorry for. We did nothing wrong. It's not your fault my marriage failed."
"But all this happened after we met up in the diner!" The queasiness in her gut yields to an odd miasma of desire and guilt; he's still close enough that she can smell the earthy notes of his cologne and her stomach flips in spite of herself. "It's all because of the lottery, is it not? Won't she use that as her main claim?"
"Katniss, stop. I've been unhappy with her for a really long time, and yeah, maybe it wouldn't have happened at this exact point in time but it would have happened eventually, I swear. And it should have happened awhile ago."
"So it is my fault!"
"No, it's not," he spits emphatically. "The lottery thing was incidental. It's no one's fault but Glimmer's, and if this bullshit lawsuit even gets that far, I'll testify that we were through way before that morning." He throws his hands up in exasperation. "Was it your fault she stopped letting me touch her? Was it your fault that she decided she didn't want kids? Was it your fault we couldn't have a civil conversation anymore? No. You had nothing to do with these things. I tried to make her happy. I tried, Katniss. I tried so hard."
"But it's gotten worse since you left me that tip, has it not? I mean, can you deny it, Peeta? What if her suing me is only the start? What if she goes after you? After this I couldn't live with myself if you suffered because of me, not after all you've done for me."
"Plutarch and Paylor are damn good lawyers. They'll insure that my assets are protected. I promise you she won't hurt me, Katniss."
"Maybe this is all a bad idea." She gestures around her wildly. "Maybe I shouldn't be working with you and spending time with you and thinking about you—
His mouth attacks hers, silencing her, and his arms tighten around her and she can't think. The room tilts and spins and her knees buckle as his lips continue their pleasurable assault. His tongue flicks at the seam of her lips and she parts them. His mouth is warm and wet and tastes of his morning coffee when he sucks eagerly on her bottom lip. The kiss is even more urgent than the one she initiated outside her building last Thursday night. She allows his tongue to plunder her mouth, licking and swirling at her own tongue, emboldening it to join his.
She claws her hands through his short curls as he backs her into the desk and leans into her. The way his body covers hers she can feel his hardness pressing against her thigh when he wedges one leg between hers. She closes her eyes as his lips descend on her neck. Leaving one hand winding encouragingly through his hair, she boldly plants the other on his ass and brings him even closer to her. He growls against her skin and her limbs turn to jelly when one of his hands palms her breast through her shirt.
His fingers then wander to the buttons on her shirt and fumble to start undoing them. She meets his hand with hers, bowing her back, her abdominal muscles tensing as she braces her body against the desk and she helps him to free the top two buttons from their holes. The heat of his breath ghosts over the swells of her breasts, and she shivers with delight, wetness pooling between her thighs.
She yanks on his tie, her fingers prying at the knot, desperate to loosen it as his tongue laps at the hollow of her throat. "Peeta," she whimpers, his name escaping her lips, but as it does, it breaks his concentration and he jerks away.
"Fuck, I'm sorry!" He turns his back to her, raking a hand through his disheveled curls. "I don't know what I was thinking."
Her shoulders slump as she pants, trying to regain her breathing, breasts heaving as she watches him pace agitatedly around the office. "Don't be sorry," she murmurs, making no move to refasten her shirt.
"No, I had no right to kiss you like that," he apologizes. "I…shit. It's getting harder and harder to control myself around you." He scrubs his face with his palms as she remains frozen, perched on the edge of the desk, her body strung taut from his confession that he wants her as badly as she wants him. And fuck, does she want him. She's tired of waiting.
"Glimmer is an idiot," she starts slowly, "if she could not want that—with you—all the time."
He finally meets her eyes, and she trembles when she sees the predatory glaze to them. He starts advancing upon her again when the office phone trills. Reaching behind her, she answers it with the usual greeting. She feels his gaze on her partially exposed chest and watches him adjust the prominent bulge in his pants.
The voice on the other end is clipped. "I'm looking for Peeta Mellark or Katniss Everdeen."
Peeta raises an eyebrow at her when she replies, "This is Katniss Everdeen."
"Katniss, this is Portia Ruiz from The Caesar Flickerman Show. We spoke last Monday about you appearing on Mr. Flickerman's program?"
She exhales and meets Peeta's eyes. "Yeah, hi, Ms. Ruiz. I remember."
"I hope you and Mr. Mellark have considered our offer and changed your minds about allowing Mr. Flickerman to interview you."
"Oh." She pauses. "Actually, Ms. Ruiz, could you hold for one second?" She presses the hold button and places the receiver down on the desk. "It's the Caesar show. We really didn't talk about this, did we?"
Peeta gives her a wry smile. "I guess we've had a lot on our minds. What do you say?"
"I'm not sure. After what just happened, I'm having a hard time thinking clearly." And between the lawsuit and the kiss, she's not exaggerating. Peeta crosses the room and stops before her; his eyes dart briefly to her breasts, and she blushes and finally hastily rebuttons her shirt.
"I think we should do it. On our terms."
"Really?"
He nods. "Yes. Especially now, given the circumstances since last Monday. I want the chance to explain things in my words."
"Okay," she agrees. "Ms. Ruiz? We'll do the show."
"Wonderful!" the producer trills. "Now about the arrangements—"
"Put her on speaker phone," Peeta murmurs in her ear, and the puff of air that escapes his lips tickles her neck. She feels the dulled buzz of desire reawakening and shifts to put some space between them.
"Ms. Ruiz, I have Mr. Mellark right here. I can put you on speaker phone."
"Wonderful! Hello, Mr. Mellark," she adds as the speaker button clicks and her voice fills the room.
"Hi, Ms. Ruiz."
"Now, as I was about to say. Normally our guests come to us and we interview in our studios, but Mr. Flickerman thinks it might be fun to interview you in your little town and film a few of the sites of your story. You know, the diner…the store where you bought the ticket…your restaurant, Mr. Mellark."
Katniss wrinkles her nose at the thought of having to go inside Cray's. But she supposes it's more desirable than flying to the New York City and dealing with all the logistics that would bring.
"That sounds fine," Peeta replies, glancing to Katniss for affirmation. She sighs and nods her head once.
"Wonderful!" Katniss rolls her eyes. Someone needs to get the woman a thesaurus. "Mr. Flickerman will be in Panem on the fourth of May and we will likely do the interview that day, perhaps at your restaurant, if that can be arranged, Mr. Mellark?" She prattles on about filming permits and waivers, and Katniss figures Cray will jump at the chance to have his greasy little establishment broadcast to the nation. She gives Ms. Ruiz the information to contact her old boss, and after a few more trivial details, Peeta coughs and speaks up.
"What about Glimmer?" he asks. There is silence on the other end of the phone.
"Well, Mr. Mellark, your wife contacted us just the other day. Caesar does want to talk to all three of you—" The woman vacillates before finishing. "But well, your wife actually asked to be interviewed separately from you."
A/N-Many thanks to fenderfreak81 for her expertise in explaining tort lawsuits to me and how 'alienation of affection' suits really work and to jeeno2 for the legal pre-advice she gifted me with before I even began this story!. A kind reminder this takes place in the fictional state of Panem, so any liberties taken with laws, etc. are all my own creative decisions. I'm trying to balance the reality of the situation without bogging you down with the details!
Thank you to all the readers who continue to support this story with your kind reviews, your follows and your favorites. I'm happy you're all enjoying it so much.
And to ILoveRynMar and streetlightlove, thank you for your friendship and your guidance.
Thanks for reading.