Fine Dining

by Gale Deitch

  I tripped over something and fell to the floor. A woman’s scream ripped through me.

  “Who’s there?” I asked.

  “It’s Katie.” She grabbed onto my arm. “Help me, please. Don’t let them take my baby.”

  “Of course, I’ll help you. Lay still, Katie. Stay low while I get help.”

  I stood, my feet slipping precariously on the thick, black viscous substance surrounding me, and attempted to move forward. I tried to yell for help, but only got a mouthful of a hot, syrupy liquid that tasted like molten licorice.

  Sliding my foot forward, I could go no further as the substance hardened to a taffy and then a brittle that held me in place.

  Then I heard a tap, tap, tapping. Had someone come to break me out of this hard cast?

  KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

  “Trudie?” May opened the door to the room. “It’s time for you to start getting ready.”

  I opened my eyes and inhaled deeply. I could breathe. Only a dream, a bad dream.

  “What time is it?” I asked, still in the haze of sleep.

  “It’s four-thirty. Isn’t Stu picking you up at six?”

  “Yes. Thanks for waking me. And hey, I might need some help with my hair and makeup, if you wouldn’t mind. Remember at school how you and Ally used to help me get ready for a party or a date?”

  She laughed. “Sure, shuga. I’ll be happy to help. Let me know when you’re ready.”

  After showering and drying my hair, I put out all my makeup on the vanity and called for May. She worked her magic, bronzing and highlighting to accentuate my cheekbones and using eyeliner, shadow and mascara to create a glamorous eye.

  “Wow. I look like myself…but a much better version. You are a genius at this, May. Where did you ever learn to apply makeup?”

  “My mama was obsessed with makeup. Used to put it on me from the time I was two years old. Rememba’, she was only a teenager when I was born.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I did recall that her mother had named her Maybelline after her favorite brand of drugstore makeup. May always hated that name and never used it, until of course she opened her restaurant.

  “Let’s see what we can do with your hair. I think we’ll put it up.” After only about ten minutes with a brush, comb, pins and hairspray, May had taken my dark, shoulder-length hair and created a gorgeous upsweep with sexy tresses dangling on the sides and neck.

  “Okay, let’s get your dress on.” I stepped into the dress and she zipped it up. Then I buckled on my strappy silver heels and stood in front of the full-length mirror with May behind me.

  “Ma cherie, you are a vision.”

  And I was. I’d never looked so good, ever. The shimmering emerald gown with its plunging neckline and the glamorous makeup and hair all produced a very attractive woman, someone I’d never seen before in my mirror. In fact, I rarely used a full-length mirror, avoiding a view of my curves and bulges. But this gorgeous woman in the mirror was me.

  I put out my earrings and necklace on the vanity.

  “No, no, no,” May said. “Those will neva’ do. Come to my room and we’ll find somethin’ else.”

  I followed May down the hall to her bedroom. It’s funny that I hadn’t actually looked into her room before now. The furniture was composed of intricately carved dark wood pieces with a strong French and Caribbean influence. When her home in New Orleans had been flooded in Hurricane Katrina, the water destroyed everything on the first floor, but she had been able to salvage some of these lovely antique pieces in her bedroom. The room was painted a pale mauve with raspberry accents in the fabrics and pillows. A fringed boudoir lamp sat on her dresser next to a tapestried jewelry chest. She lifted the lid on the chest and inspected then pulled out a magnificent pendant with matching earrings in glimmering shades of color that changed with the lighting.

  May hung the pendant around my neck then gave me the earrings to put on. I peered into the mirror. The effect was impressive. Nothing in Charmaine’s store would have worked any better than these. I turned and gave May a big hug. “I feel like Cinderella, and you’re my fairy godmother.”

  She grinned. “You look like Cinderella.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “It’s a little early for Stu,” I said. “Only five-thirty.”

  May went downstairs to answer the door, while I retrieved my silver bag, making sure I’d included the few most important items: lipstick, cell phone, keys and ID. Before snapping the bag shut, I threw in a small handful of business cards. Never knew when an opportunity would arise to promote my business. Then I headed downstairs.

  Standing in May’s living room was Alan Bernstein, looking particularly handsome in a tuxedo.

  “Holy--,” he said, watching me descend the stairs. “Trudie, you look amazing. More than amazing.”

  “Thank you,” I said, smiling. “How come you’re so dressed up? Where are you going tonight?”

  “The Policeman’s Gala at the Mayflower. My law practice is a big donor, so we get a whole table of tickets every year. I’m assuming that’s where you’re going as well, right, dressed the way you are?”

  “Yes. But what are you doing here?”

  “May called me for a consult. I thought I’d stop by on the way to the Gala. I guess your policeman is coming to pick you up? Lucky man.”

  “Actually, no. Daniel has to meet me there. His dad is picking me up and dropping me off at the hotel.”

  “Dropping you off?” Alan approached and circled me slowly, never taking his eyes off of me then stood so close I could smell his earthy aftershave. “You’re much too gorgeous in that dress to be dropped off at the curb like some kind of taxi fare. Why don’t I take you, and you can arrive in the ballroom like a lady with an escort.”

  I peered up into Alan’s eyes, fringed by those long dark lashes. “I already have an escort for the evening.”

  “I realize that,” he said. “I’ll just escort you inside and deliver you to the waiting arms of your man. What do you think?”

  “It would be a shame for Stu to make that trip when Alan is going to the exact same place,” May said. “Why don’t you call him and tell him you have a ride.”

  “I guess that does make sense,” I said. It absolutely made sense for me to ride with Alan, but I worried how Daniel would react. On the other hand, if Daniel couldn’t pick me up for the Gala, I would much rather arrive with someone I knew than all alone. “Okay, Alan. I’ll accept your offer.”

  May invited me to stay and listen while she consulted Alan about whether the judge would approve Katie staying with her rather than me.

  “I suppose it’s possible. She’s pretty young for something like this.” Alan turned to me. “You’re okay with it, Trudie?”

  “Absolutely. Katie needs a place to stay, and I’d love to get back to a normal life.”

  “Okay, then. May, I’d like to speak with Katie myself, do a background check, and then I’ll try to get a meeting with the judge in his chambers. Let me know what Katie decides, and I’ll start the ball rolling.”

  He turned to me and held out his arm. “Ready?”

  “Ready.” I took his arm and let him lead me out the door.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Alan held the car door open for me, and I sunk into the cushy black leather passenger seat of his BMW. When he got into the driver’s seat and started the car, I snuck a peak at him, so appealing in his tuxedo and smelling of sandalwood and a hint of musk. If I weren’t with Daniel, I might be able to see myself with Alan. An attractive and thoughtful man with an excellent income, he would be a good catch for any woman.

  He turned, caught me staring and grinned. “What?” he asked.

  I felt my face redden. “Just admiring how handsome you look tonight.”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Hmm. And here I am delivering you, dressed like that and looking so beautiful, to your boyfriend. What’s wrong with this picture?”

  I wondered myself. Where was Daniel, my supposed date for the
night? He should have been the one escorting me to the Gala, not Alan and not Stu. Work or no work, this was a formal event, and dressed the way I was, Daniel should have been the one in the driver’s seat.

  “Doesn’t shed a very good light on Daniel, does it?” I asked.

  Alan put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “Daniel’s a good guy,” he said. “And you two are good together. Guess it’s just a matter of timing. I came into the picture a little too late.”

  His words shot through me like a splash of hot sauce. He’d always been warm and friendly towards me, but was it more than that? “Meaning?” I asked.

  He pulled up to a stop sign and turned to me. I’d never seen his face so serious, except in court. “I’m not going to lie, Trudie. Daniel’s a lucky guy to have you in his life. I wonder if he realizes how special you are.”

  I looked at him with my mouth open, not able to utter a sound.

  The car behind us honked and Alan glanced at his rearview mirror then proceeded through the intersection.

  The two of us were quiet for several uncomfortable minutes. What did he expect me to say after a comment like that? I was surprised and flattered. I was also feeling incredibly guilty.

  Then Alan murmured under his breath, “I’m sorry.”

  “About what?

  “I never should have said that to you. It’s not fair to you or to Daniel.”

  “You told me what was on your mind. I’m flattered.”

  “But—“

  “But yes, Daniel is my boyfriend, and we’re pretty serious about each other.” I looked him straight in the eye. “Under other circumstances, who knows?”

  We pulled up to the front of the Mayflower Hotel and, as the valet approached to open my door, Alan said, “Let’s forget I ever mentioned these things to you, and I will deliver you like a dutiful knight to your prince.”

  My prince, however, was nowhere in sight when we entered the hotel. He’d promised to be there waiting for me. At the cocktail reception in the foyer outside the ballroom, Alan got us glasses of wine from the bar and stood with me while I waited for Daniel. I found myself constantly turning toward the entrance, hoping to see him.

  When waiters approached with silver trays of mini quiches and smoked salmon canapés, I took a few, more to keep myself occupied tasting and reviewing the competition’s products than from hunger. It annoyed me that Daniel’s absence removed all the enjoyment from this exclusive event, and although Alan stayed close and even ate a few hors d’oeurves himself, I felt lost and abandoned.

  Searching the faces in the crowd, I didn’t recognize anyone. Alan seemed to know many of these people, and he nodded to them or engaged in friendly conversation, always introducing me and drawing me into the group.

  “Sorry, Alan. I’m keeping you from your friends and coworkers aren’t I?”

  “Believe me,” he said. “I only come each year to represent my law firm and do a little networking. I’d much rather be standing here with a gorgeous woman.”

  I peered around the room. “There are lots of gorgeous women here. Why are you wasting your time with me?”

  He put his arm around my waist and drew me so close, his breath tickled my ear and a shiver shot down my spine. “Because I’m with the most attractive woman in the room.”

  I smiled at him and he clinked my glass with his and took a sip, his eyes not leaving mine.

  “Trudie,” I heard a voice yell through the crowd. I turned and saw Daniel heading toward me. “I tried to call you. Why didn’t you answer your phone?” he asked when he reached me. Sergeant Sherrie Flowers followed behind him, her scarlet dress plunging deep and sparkling rhinestone jewels dripping from her neck and ears.

  “I…didn’t hear it,” I said, reaching into my evening bag. “I guess I had the volume turned down. Anyway, you’re here now.” I glanced up at him, fighting back the disappointment I couldn’t seem to get rid of. In my head, I knew his work took precedence over other, less important, things. But still, I’d wanted him to be here when I arrived, to tell me how beautiful I looked, to take me in his arms and proudly escort me into the Gala. By now, my anxiety had turned to anger. What if Stu had driven me and left me off at the hotel? I would have been alone through this whole ordeal. No doubt, by now I would have called for a taxi and gone home.

  The chimes sounded, and the ballroom doors opened. “Come on, Dan,” Sherrie said, pulling on his arm. “Let’s find our table.”

  “You go ahead,” he said, noticing Alan for the first time. “We’ll be in soon.” He turned to Alan. “What are you doing here?”

  “I drove her.”

  Daniel looked from me to Alan and back. “What happened to Dad?”

  “Alan had business to discuss with May and stopped by her house. Since he was also coming to the Gala tonight, he offered me a ride. It was such a coincidence.”

  “I’ll bet,” Daniel muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. But he turned to Alan and nodded. “Thanks.”

  Alan nodded back. “No problem. You’ll be all right now?” he asked, turning to me.

  I smiled, hoping my expression conveyed how grateful I was to him. “I’ll be fine. Thank you, Alan.”

  We watched the foyer begin to empty out as Alan followed the crowd of people entering the ballroom, their snippets of conversation and tinkling of glasses following with them.

  “I’m sorry, Trudie,” Daniel said. “I tried to get here earlier, but one thing led to the next, and I couldn’t seem to get out of the station. Barely had time to put on my tuxedo.”

  I shifted my gaze toward the ballroom. “Well someone had time to get ready,” I said, thinking of Sergeant Sherrie Flowers. “It couldn’t have been easy squeezing herself into that anchovy paste tube.”

  Daniel laughed and stood back to gaze at me, his expression brightening. “Trudie, you are gorgeous tonight.” His smoldering eyes locked on mine and kept me frozen in place. My body tingled as he examined me from top to bottom. He closed the gap between us, lifted my chin, and gave me a soft, lingering kiss.

  “Do we have to go in?” I asked when he released me.

  He chuckled. “I’d much rather we spent the evening at my place, but unfortunately this Gala is an annual obligation. “Although,” he said, raising his face toward the upper floors of the hotel, “maybe we can escape at some point and get a room.”

  We picked up our table cards and entered the Grand Ballroom, a long expansive space flanked by majestic black, wrought-iron balconies. Trying to find our seats, we wove our way through the sea of round tables, all dressed with ivory linens and vases of assorted varieties of white flowers. Sherrie seemed to have taken over our table, and possibly the room, with her strawberry blonde hair coiffed as big as risen bread dough. “Dan,” she called, waving him over and then patting the table next to her. “Over here. I’ve saved seats for you.”

  Daniel introduced me to the others at the table, fellow cops from his precinct, three of whom had brought their wives or significant others. Sherrie’s date, who I noticed for the first time, was probably one of the recruits from work, a quiet young man with a sandy buzz cut who anxiously anticipated her needs and clung to her every word.

  I watched Sherrie trying to capture Daniel’s attention, leaning in to him and putting her hand on his arm as she spoke. I’d had so little time with Daniel lately. I missed him, missed his touch and our flirty banters, missed waking up and finding him propped on one elbow watching me sleep. Tonight I only wanted his undivided attention, his body turned toward mine and our fingers intertwined under the table, things Sergeant Flowers made virtually impossible.

  The band began to play Lady in Red as our arugula salads were served. I must have been hungry or maybe distracted by my frustration because I’d already unconsciously munched on two buttered bread sticks. As I reached for a third, Sherrie stood and pulled Daniel up by the sleeve to dance with her. He rose, giving me a shrug, and followed her to the dance floor where she wrapped her arms aroun
d his neck and pulled him close. Two couples from our table joined them, the other wandered off to speak to friends across the room, and I was left alone at the table with buzz cut to watch our dates dance.

  I felt a light tap on my shoulder. “May I have this dance?” Alan asked.

  “Of course.” I smiled up at him, my knight in shining armor for the evening.

  He took my hand and deliberately led me to a spot right next to Daniel and Sherrie. Then he pulled me close and we swayed to the music…I’ll never forget the way you look tonight.

  I peered up at Alan and mouthed the words, “Thank you.”

  When we turned, I glanced up to see Daniel glaring at us.

  I shrugged at him, and Alan turned us in another direction, Daniel now out of my sight line.

  The song ended, and Daniel escorted Sherrie back to her seat then returned to the dance floor as a new song began. He tapped Alan on the shoulder. “I’d like to dance with my girlfriend.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask her if she wants to dance with you?” Alan asked.

  Daniel frowned and peered down at me. “Trudie, can I have this dance?”

  “I guess so.” I moved from Alan’s arms to Daniel’s.

  “What do you mean, ‘I guess so’?”

  I felt my lower lip tremble. “I would have liked to have the first dance with you,” I said, my voice cracking.

  “What could I do? Sherrie literally pulled me out to the dance floor.”

  “You could have politely bowed out,” I blurted. “Sherrie came with her own date. Let her dance with him.”

  “And what about you,” he asked, “dancing with that Bernstein guy? It seems everywhere we go there he is cozying up to you.”

  “Alan was just being a gentleman. I was sitting all alone at the table, and he rescued me. Something you should have done.” I frowned at Daniel.

  He lifted my chin. “Listen, Trudie. I don’t want to argue. I want you in my arms, no one else’s. You’re my girlfriend and I love you.”