"I'll send a car to get you!"
"Thanks. You spending the weekend with your…friends?"
"Don't start, Katherine. I know you don't like them. "
"Hate them, actually."
"You'll get used to them. Maybe one day they'll rub off on you, help you get a decent man."
Katie touched her throat. Decent wasn't the word she'd ever use for Rhyn. Her sister would have a heart attack once she saw the tattoo and found out she'd basically married the type of man Hannah'd always warned her about.
"Will you be ready in an hour?" Hannah asked.
"Sure."
"See you soon!"
Katie clicked the phone off and looked at the five-year-old doing wind sprints across her apartment. She waited for him to finish before crossing to her room to change. The effort of a shower left her even more exhausted. She dressed comfortably and packed her overnight bag, then searched the room, certain she was forgetting something.
"He's not in the closet," Toby said, then laughed.
She rolled her eyes at him and snatched her stuff before leaving her apartment for the sidewalk in front of her building. She waited in the cold winter day until the familiar Lincoln Town Car arrived. She dozed in the car during the forty-five-minute drive into northern Virginia, where her sister's fiancé owned a mansion secreted behind towering shrubbery and a gate that swung open to welcome her.
Her sister waited in the reception room, sipping tea and flipping through a magazine. She looked as healthy as Katie didn't feel. Hannah looked up as the butler let her in, her smile turning to a frown.
"You look ghastly," she said. "How long have you been…"
Too late, Katie realized she'd not thought to wear a scarf. Hannah's eyes widened, and she rose, angling her past the butler and a maid dusting a painting to the second floor. She closed the door behind them in the massive bedchamber that was hers and whirled.
"You know how trashy tattoos make women look? Why on earth…Gio will be so angry!"
"I don't care what your man thinks," Katie replied, agitated already. "I had it done in Ireland. It's some sort of Celtic…thing."
"What's a rhyn?"
"I'm not having a good turn, sis. Can we please just…do something?"
"The girls and I are going to brunch."
Katie didn't bother hiding her grimace. Hannah rolled her eyes and looked her over. Her gaze lingered on Katie's face, which Katie knew was pale. It was this that saved her from some snide comment about her less-than-fashionable clothes. Hannah gathered her things and led her down to a warm, waiting car. Katie pretended to listen as Hannah discussed the Paris fashion show she'd attended and the month in Monte Carlo she'd spend in January to escape the coldest weather.