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The framed article pressed tightly to her chest, so tightly it would likely leave an impression in Kara’s cardigan once removed, but she didn’t mind. She held it firmly, partly hidden by the folders pressed to the back of it, and walked as quickly as was humanly possible to the small office Cat had given her what now felt like ages ago.
Slipping quickly inside, she turned her attention to the naked wall behind her desk. Setting her files aside, Kara held up her framed article and looked it over. Her eyes stung with tears as her lips spread around a smile that made her cheeks feel strained. Her first first page.
Reminding herself not to squeeze too tightly for fear of cracking the glass frame, Kara held the article up to the center of the wall. She could imagine it hanging there, surrounded by countless others; acclaimed pieces penned by her hand and photographs of herself accepting her first Pulitzer. The mere thought made her feel flushed–thrilled and hopeful and maybe a bit embarrassed for picturing it at all, but Kara couldn’t help herself. This felt like a turning point, a tipping point, and she could feel herself on the edge of soaring.
“I did it,” she murmured, her eyes tracing rapidly over the piece, line by line. At this point, she had it memorized.
“Yes, you did.”
Startled, Kara whirled around and felt her heart jump into her throat.
Cat Grant stood in the open doorway, hip pressed to the frame and arms crossed over her chest. Her hair was richer, more golden than Kara remembered, and the red-and-black dress she wore hugged her body as if it had been painted on. The exposed skin of her arms was sun-kissed and freckled in places that used to be bare.
Kara knew she had spent the last six months traveling about South America, working on a massive journalistic series about climate change and its effects on the rainforests. Kara had been following the work religiously.
Her throat tightened, strained, at the sight of Cat standing in her doorway, a smirk settled across her lips. “Cat,” she whispered, unsure if the name even left her lips until Cat’s brow arched in response.
“My, you have grown bold in my absence, haven’t you?” Cat stepped into the office, pressing the door quietly closed behind her.
Clearing her throat, Kara reached up to adjust her glasses. Her heart raced with every breath, every step Cat took toward her. It was an old sensation, one she thought long gone by now, but with her old boss standing in front of her again, the familiar refrain of Cat’s fluttering pulse slipping back into Kara’s ears like it never left, the feeling came rushing back.
“I, uh, I’m working on this confidence thing,” Kara said, a nervous giggle speckling the words.
“Mm,” Cat hummed, her smirk blooming into a simple, close-mouthed smile. “Yes, you finally got that son of a bitch, Snapper, to listen to you.” She held out her hand once she was within reach. “May I?”
“O-oh, sure, yes, of course,” Kara stuttered, handing over the framed article.
Cat took the piece gingerly, eyes dancing over the face of it before rising once more to catch Kara’s gaze. “It was an impressive piece,” she said as she handed the article back to Kara.
Jaw dropping slightly, Kara reached up to adjust her glasses again. She shifted on her feet. “You … you actually read my article?”
Rolling her eyes, Cat turned and made her way to the small couch by the far wall. She settled down, crossed one ankle over the other, pressing her knees together, and said, “Of course I read it. Why do you think I’m here?”
Kara’s eyes widened. “You came back because of this?” She waved the article through the air before setting it on her desk. When Cat gave only a nod that one might actually interpret as more of a single-shouldered shrug, Kara crossed to the couch and settled down beside her. “I, I’m, I don’t know what to say, Miss Grant.”
“Oh, something along the lines of ‘you’ve been missed’, ‘it isn’t the same without you’, ‘you are the heart of this company and its vibrancy has diminished in your extended absence’ should do fine.” She waved her hand dismissively and sniffed.
Chuckling, Kara reached forward without thinking and placed a hand on Cat’s knee. “You are the heart of this company, Miss Grant, and you have been missed. I’ve missed you.”
The corner of Cat’s mouth tugged upward, and Kara felt her chest tighten when one of Cat’s small hands settled atop her own, still resting on Cat’s knee.
“I’ve been following your series,” Kara said. “It’s … well, I’m sure you know.” She chuckled again. “It’s amazing. What are the rainforests like?”
“Wet. Green,” Cat said, waving her free hand again. “You get the picture.”
Kara’s smile spread until she felt that strain in her cheeks again. Her heart still hammered away beneath the surface, and her eyes flicked back and forth between Cat’s eyes and Cat’s knee. Their hands still remained pressed together as if it wasn’t something new to them, as if they had always touched this way; as if they had always lingered.
Silence settled between them for only a moment before Cat released a gentle sigh and patted Kara’s hand. “I’m here because what I am about to say to you is a rare bird, Kara, and I’ve learned that rare birds should always be witnessed in person.”
Slender fingers squeezed around Kara’s hand, and Kara’s heart kicked up even faster, harder. She caught Cat’s gaze and held it, waited.
“I am very…” Cat squeezed Kara’s hand again. “…proud of you, Kara.”
The words blasted through Kara, knocking her momentarily breathless, and she felt her eyes begin to sting again. That was it. That was all it took for her to tip, to fall, to fly, and Kara let out a wet laugh as she reveled in the feeling, in the soaring, in the squeeze of Cat’s hand around hers. She wiped quickly at her cheek before shifting closer and wrapping her arms around Cat.
Cat sank into the embrace, their knees knocking together, and held Kara as tightly as she had that last day in the office together.
“Thank you, Cat,” Kara whispered, closing her eyes and breathing in the familiar scent of her former boss. Her own pulse faded from her ears until all that remained was Cat’s–the same easy rhythm that had, for so long, served as the soundtrack to Kara’s days, and she held onto it. An old song she couldn’t help but still love.