Chapter 5

His scent lingered around her like morning fog on a moor, though he'd only leaned in for a matter of seconds. That wasn't to say she found it overbearing or off-putting, in fact quite the opposite. Kate relished in the tickle the soft spice of his skin left in its wake. It was one she vividly remembered, one she'd experienced on a long ago afternoon- a memory she'd since kept tucked away, wrapped pristinely in a bow, until tonight when the redhead two chairs over said his name and pulled the satin string loose. Richard Castle- someone so important to her past, someone suddenly so within reach in her present.

"Fans of yours, huh?" She wasn't even aware they were forming inside her. The words simply flew from her mouth like a round fired from her service weapon, swift and invasive.

"I'm- I'm sorry." Rick said, leaning back across the leather buffer between them. "Were you talking to me?"

Of course it was too much to ask that the ambient sounds of the lounge had drowned out her pointless and uninvited inquiry. "Oh, no, I'm sorry. Please excuse me," she answered, her cheeks warm with the blush of embarrassment. "I didn't mean to bother you," she added, swallowing down nearly all that remained in her glass.

"You didn't bother me at all. I just wanted to make sure before I answered and potentially embarrassed myself. My family assures me I'm quite adept at that."

Kate finally turned her head in his direction, found his body closer than she expected. His proximate scent instantly set her memories off like fireworks. She'd find the book when she got home that night, she decided with a silent thrill, the one with the note in it, penned by him years before, just for her. "Is your family right?"

"Of course not, no." He laughed her off. "I'm absolutely perfect. No flaws to speak of." He smiled and she mirrored it right back. "But to answer your question, because you really didn't bother me at all, I think it's probably more likely they're fans of Page Six, not me. They're not exactly in my demo."

Kate shifted her attention briefly to the trio and then back again. "And what demo is that?" Her tone was inexplicably playful. She caught herself entirely off guard.

"Well let's just say, because you're clearly a lady and I should, therefore, be a gentleman, that my devotees know how to order a real drink, and real drinks are never the color of cotton candy."

Kate looked down at the remnants in her glass and grinned inside. She knew what a real drink was. Her mother had loved manhattans, and her mother was the most real person she'd ever known.

"Kudos, by the way. I couldn't help but notice we share the same excellent taste in spirits." He extended his glass to provoke a toast and she obliged, with an audible clink.

"Guess that means I'd make an acceptable member of your fan club." As though she weren't already.

"Oh, you're absolutely, 100 percent acceptable." Rick took another sip to slow himself down. Here he was, waiting for a date- albeit one he didn't want- and shamelessly flirting with someone else at the bar.

"Well, thanks, I think." She reached out her hand. "I'm Kate, by the way, in case you need it for the newsletter mailings or something."

"Cute. Very cute." He took her hand in his and continued to squeeze it gently without release.

She looked at him quizzically.

"Not you. I didn't mean—not, not that you aren't cute. You are. More than cute, actually. I was-"

Her eyebrow crept up at an angle. "You sure you're him? The actual Richard Castle? The writer of best-selling words and sentences?" She had no idea where all of this playfulness was coming from. But she felt more at ease with him by the second, while that long ago afternoon continued to flash across her mind- the soft rain, the fluorescent light of the bookstore, the tight, anticipatory grip of her fingers around the bend of his novel.

"Hard to believe, isn't it?" He couldn't help but chuckle. "A smooooth talker like me."

"Well, I used the word huh earlier. Who am I to judge? I say we call it even."

"It's a deal." He still had her hand in his, he realized. To his surprise, she hadn't yet pulled away. "Please call me Rick. It's very nice to meet you, Kate."

That afternoon. The pristine bow. She'd already met him, but, for now, that would remain just for her.

"Crap!" He released her hand and pulled back his jacket from his wrist. "I'm meeting someone and she's supposed to-"

Kate fiddled with her clutch and slid out her phone.

"Would you excuse me? I'm sorry. I need to go and check-"

"No, of course, go ahead," she said with a sweep of her hand. "I'm sorry I kept you." A part of her didn't feel sorry at all. A big part of her. A bigger part than she cared to admit.

She watched him step quickly away until he disappeared around the corner and then she lit up her phone. Josh was fifteen minutes late and there was no message to speak of. She glanced over each shoulder to make sure she hadn't missed him, as though she were in the middle of some crowd of people. Hell, she didn't even know what he looked like. Maybe she was just hoping she'd see Rick walking back toward her. Maybe.

The bartender made his way down the counter and cleared away her empty glass. "May I offer you another?"

Kate looked once more at her phone. Still nothing. "Sure. Why not." She'd put on a dress and eye shadow, after all.

xxxx

The blabbing bimbettes took off before Kate's second drink was set on the bar in front of her, and she wished there was someone next to her to toast the occasion. Six more minutes had passed without word from Josh, her phone now out of her purse and left within view. She thought briefly about texting Lanie but quickly realized she didn't really care all that much. Sure, she could be at the precinct working on her case against Rollins, but that would surely have frustrated her just the same. They still had nothing on him that was worth a damn to the DA. At least here some good had come- in the form of a charming, divinely-scented writer. She had to drink to that.

"Another of the same, if you would," Kate heard from just over her shoulder, the deep voice of its origin both familiar and titillating at once. "A beautiful woman should never drink alone," Rick spoke softly, his lips just beyond her ear.

Kate turned in surprise and found him standing behind the chair directly next to hers- no buffer this time. "I thought you- weren't you meeting someone?" Not that she was in any way disappointed in his return.

"May I?"

"Of course, please." She scolded herself for sounding too excited.

Rick sat as his drink was delivered. "Thanks. I, uh- hey, no more rambunctious fan section." He interrupted his own thought, basking in the peace of their absence.

"Aw, don't worry, the night's still young. I'm sure there will be more hair-color-from-a-box, Page Six readers along shortly," Kate teased with a smile.

"Feisty, I like that. But," he paused to sample his drink, "to be honest, as perfect men such as myself always are, I'm rather enjoying your company and wouldn't welcome the interruption."

Kate swallowed- hard. She reached gracelessly for her glass and sent her phone spinning. Rick trapped it under his hand and guided it slowly back toward her.

"I should've known," he said with a knowing nod of his head. "Of course you're waiting for someone too. How would a woman like you not be waiting for someone?" He pushed his chair back from the bar and stood. "I'm sorry, Kate. I didn't mean to-"

Before she knew it, her fingers were around his forearm. "No, it's fine, really. Please, sit." He didn't make a move either way. "Please." More than anything else she didn't want from this night, she didn't want him to go.

Rick took his seat once again and they locked eyes for a moment before either said anything. Somehow it didn't feel awkward to either of them.

"I was supposed to meet someone but it seems I've been stood up. We planned to meet here at 8PM. So much for fans, huh?"

Kate did her best to muster a sympathetic tone, but inside she felt as though she was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "I'm sorry, Rick. Hopefully everything's okay and you can reschedule, maybe."

"God, I hope not," he mumbled, though he'd done so more overtly than intended.

"You hope not?" Kate looked at him entirely confused.

"Oh, well, of course I hope she's okay. Of course. No, it's just that this was a blind date orchestrated by my cruel and vindictive ex-wife, and I would rather have spent the evening trapped in a sewer drain if I'd had the choice- which I didn't…and you're looking at me funny. What?"

"I'm not even sure where to begin with all of that. It sounds like it has the makings of a potential new sci-fi book, though. I mean, I know you're a mystery writer, but you should consider it."

Rick's entire face lit up like the brightest beam of morning sun. "Read some of my work, have you? That's kind of hot."

"Beginning to understand the whole ex-wife thing."

"Sorry."

Kate wasn't. She found this entire interlude kind of hot.

"Well, in the interest of keeping things honest, I was supposed to meet a blind date here tonight as well, and though I was trying very hard to convince myself otherwise, I was dreading it a bit too." She reached for her drink and took a large sip that went down warm. "Guess we're quite a pair."

"I'll drink to that," he said, raising his glass to hers. "And may I add to my apologies for your unfortunate evening a selfish yippee because I'm enjoying the hell out of your company."

There was that blush again, one she felt crawl all the way up from her toes to her cheeks. "I am too, actually."

"Actually? You sound surprised."

"I am surprised. Just, not in the way you think," she told him demurely.

Rick looked at her curiously but didn't press it further, and she wasn't ready to reveal anything more in the moment. She'd fought against this night, fought against the idea that happiness could find her where she'd been hiding for so long, but there she sat, nonetheless, next to the man who'd unknowingly helped to put some of her broken pieces back together long ago. Maybe she had Lanie to thank, maybe something bigger. Either way, as she glanced over and noticed the blue glow emanating from the phone beside her clutch, she grinned gently and let it fade away, unacknowledged.