by Joachim Jean
“Crashing?” Nina asked Norman, cocking her head to the side.
“Fran told me you had a great play for me to read.”
Nina turned her head then motioned to Clint. “And here is the great playwright. Norman Fallon meet Clint Hayworth.”
Norman extended his hand, and Clint took it for a brief shake.
“Not bad looking, but a little young?” Norman asked her.
Clint straightened up, his lips tightening into a frown.
“He’s a friend, Norman. Come in. Have you eaten?”
Nina slipped her arm through Norman’s and led him to the dining room, giving Clint an admonishing look as she passed him by. He stood stock still as they strolled past. “One more for eggs Benedict!” she called into the kitchen.
“You’re too kind, Nina.” Norman kissed her hand. “So, where’s the play by this new Thornton Wilder? I can read while I eat.”
Clint followed them.
“It’s not quite ready yet,” Nina said, placing her hand on Clint’s arm to stop him.
“Oh?”
“Next week. Can I bring it by?” her voice was flirtatious.
“Only if you wear that red dress. You still have it?” he asked, his hand rubbing her waist.
“I do.”
“Good. I like to read in bed. Perhaps you can help?”
“Norman!” Nina blushed and stole a glance at Clint, whose face was turning redder by the minute.
Norman peered at Clint then turned to her again. “I thought you said you were just friends, Nina?”
“Come eat something. Coffee? The parade is splendid today.” Nina looked at the terrace and spied Cory come in. She got flustered. Buttering up Norman isn’t easy with Clint and Cory here. What is Cory thinking? “Excuse me,” she muttered, lowering her gaze to avoid Clint’s glower.
Brushing by Cory, Nina hurried into her room, leaving the door ajar. She sat completely still, not making a noise, so she could hear what transpired in the living room.
“So, you’re hunk-of-the-month?” she heard Norman ask.
Clint must have made some move, because Cory’s voice said, “Dad. Don’t.”
“That’s right, sonny, him decking me won’t get his play to Broadway.”
Suddenly, Clint stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. Nina jumped.
“What the hell was that?” he yelled.
“Lower your voice. Please,” she admonished with wide eyes.
He paced across the room and back. He took two deep breaths and turned to face her. “What happened out there? ‘Your friend?’ I’m only your friend?” He raised his eyebrows.
Nina couldn’t mistake the hurt reflected in his gaze. Her lips compressed into a frown, and her hands played with the hem of her sweater.
“Answer me! Is that all I am to you?” He cocked his head, placing his fists on his hips.
“Of course not. I didn’t expect Norman to stop by. I was taken by surprise.”
He neared the bed. “What does that have to do with us?”
“I want Norman to produce your play. He’s the hottest producer on Broadway now, and if he takes it, it’ll have the best chance for success.” She glanced up at him.
“You’ve been his lover.”
“So?” Nina fidgeted with the bed cover.
“And the way you were playing up to him…seemed to me like you were angling for that job again.” He tipped her chin up with his finger.
“I’m not interested in Norman. It’s the way we theater people do things sometimes. You know? Flirty. Simply an act to get him interested…”
“Oh, he’s interested. In you.” His gaze searched hers.
“In your play.”
“I don’t like it, Nina. I don’t want you sleeping with him to get him to read my play. And I’m more than your friend.”
“Boyfriend?”
He pushed a strand of hair off her face. “Lover.”
“Goodness,” she said, heat returning to her cheeks.
“At least it’s honest.”
“Norman’ll read the play because Fran told him it was worth reading, not because of me. He’s still mad at me over our break-up. That’s why he was so obnoxious, needling you and all. He’s jealous.” She pushed to her feet.
“Did you dump him?”
“I got tired of waiting around for him while he slept with every young woman he could get his hands on. So, I told him I didn’t want to see him anymore.”
He turned her to face him. “Were you in love with him?”
She laughed. “No way. Norman is too much in love with himself.”
“Do you regret your break-up?” His brows knitted.
“Are you kidding? He can’t hold a candle to you,” she said, smiling at him.
“A little hard to believe…he’s rich, powerful, smart, not bad looking, and obviously crazy about you.”
She thrust out her chin. “Not as crazy about me as you are.”
“Damn right. And don’t you forget it.” Clint shook his finger. Then, he leaned over and kissed her hard.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you jealous.”
“You’re mine now.”
There was a soft knock on the door.
“Everything okay?” Cory asked, stepping inside.
“Sure, sure, son. Everything’s fine.” Clint shot a glance at Nina.
“Of course,” she said, rising from the bed. She walked over to Clint and put her arms around his waist.
“Good. You promised,” Cory reminded, looking at her. “The last of the balloons are coming. Come on, you don’t want to miss SpongeBob, Dad,” Cory teased, yanking on his father’s arm.
“Nina?” Clint offered his hand. She took it and closed the door behind her.
Norman Fallon was looking at his watch when Nina came out of the bedroom. Cory pulled on his dad, but Clint raised his palm. The producer cocked an eyebrow and looked at Nina.
Clint walked over to him. “She’s my girlfriend, the love of my life, Norman. Wanted you to know before you made any more assumptions.”
“Well, it’s about time you had the balls to speak up, Hayworth. I’ll expect your play in my office no later than Saturday morning, before eleven. Nina, gotta run, love,” he said, kissing her and stopping to shake Clint’s hand before he raced through the door and was gone.
The sudden squeals from the terrace diverted Clint and Nina. They joined the others outside, where they waved to SpongeBob Square Pants. Clint took her in his arms for a long bear hug.
****
By eleven o’clock, all the guests had departed. Anton had two students to do clean up. Nina, Clint, and Cory sipped the last of the hot chocolate and rested shoeless feet on the coffee table.
“So that bastard, Norman Fallon, was testing me, was he?” Clint eased his arm along the back of the couch.
“Guess so,” Nina responded.
“I passed?”
“You did. The play has to be ready for Saturday.”
“It will be. I have a couple of days off to work. You won’t mind, Cory?”
“Can we stay here so I can finish Roller Coaster Tycoon? I’m in the middle of a scenario.”
Clint looked at Nina.
A smile stole across her face. “That would be great. I’d love it. Stay as long as you like.”
Clint leaned over and planted a sweet kiss on her lips.
Cory got up. “I’m outta here.”
“I’m sorry if we embarrassed you,” Nina began, pushing up.
“Get used to it, son,” Clint said and laughed.
Cory disappeared into the bedroom.
“Oh my! The turkey!” Nina jumped up and went into the kitchen, Clint following. Anton was packing up. She gave him a generous tip to share with the staff then pulled down the roasting pan. Clint opened the refrigerator and removed the huge bird. They worked together for fifteen minutes until the turkey was stuffed, greased, and ready. Then, Clint lifted the heavy pan into the oven.
<
br /> “Time to relax.”
They returned to the sofa, where she double-checked her list. Back to the kitchen to prepare the side dishes. Almost everything was ready by one o’clock, and no guests were due to arrive until five.
“Nap time,” she announced, heading toward the bedroom.
“Would you mind if I took this time to work on the play?”
“Not at all, sweetheart.”
Clint retrieved his briefcase and set up on the dining room table.
“Don’t forget to add the grandmother. She makes a great foil for the daughter.” Nina rested her hands on his shoulders.
“All right, all right. I’ll consider it. But if I can’t work her in easily enough…”
“I know. You’re the playwright,” she murmured, leaning in to kiss him.
Clint gave her a quick squeeze then flipped through until he reached the first page with a comment in the margin.
Alone in the bedroom, Nina unbuttoned her turquoise, silk shirt. She hung up her clothes, stripped off her underwear and slipped between cool, beige, six hundred thread, cotton sheets. She snuggled up under the puffy down comforter to keep warm in the chilly room. Even with her eyes closed, Nina couldn’t stop smiling. Clint had told Norman that she was the love of his life. One more wonderful thing to be thankful for. Then, she drifted off to sleep.
****
At three o’clock, Clint came in and woke Nina with a kiss.
“Like sleeping beauty,” she muttered, rubbing her eyes.
He stroked her hair. “Time to get up, babe.”
“I wish I could pull you right in here next to me, if only for a hug.”
“Like I believe that…I’d love to, but you’ll be upset if you burn the turkey.”
She dragged herself out of bed. Clint gave her bare behind a few pats and moved away.
“Leaving?”
“Knowing when to avoid temptation.” He snickered, getting a glimpse of her pulling out lacy lingerie from the bureau drawer.
Nina dressed and set to work basting the turkey, setting the table, again, and putting dip and crudités in dishes to plant in key spots in the living room, along with some mixed nuts, cold shrimp, and cocktail sauce. Clint took his work into the bedroom and set up his laptop on the small desk there.
“Can I help?” Cory stood at the entryway to the kitchen. His voice had startled Nina. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
She smiled at him. “You certainly can, Cory. Let’s see.” Nina bit her lip for a second then motioned to the kitchen table. Cory sat. She pulled out her list and ticked off what was done and read him the things left to do. “Get down serving dishes and utensils. Wash celery. Open cans of olives. Set up bar. Make ice. Fold napkins. Find extra salt and pepper shakers—”
“Stop. I can reach stuff on high shelves.”
“How about you get down the serving dishes, open the olives, and make ice?”
“Awesome.”
Nina directed him to the cabinets and told him which dishes she wanted. When they were done, about four o’clock, Nina made her special hot chocolate for them and invited Cory to the terrace. The sun had already moved west and Central Park West was in shadows lengthening to nighttime soon. They stood outside in the cold, sipping the chocolate and looking at the lights on Fifth Avenue straight across the park.
“Thank you for helping today. I didn’t want to bother your dad, as he seems to be making progress on the play.”
“I guess. At least he’s not hollering and cursing like he usually does when he’s writing.”
“You can go back to the game. We’re all done, and people won’t be arriving for another forty-five minutes.”
Cory nodded and retreated to the guest room. Nina went into the kitchen and retrieved a cold bottle of Moët & Chandon, champagne left over from brunch, and popped the cork. She poured herself a flute, put the bottle under her arm, and went into the bedroom to change.
“You’re very smiley today,” Clint said from the chair in the corner, facing the desk.
“Having Cory here reminds me of Darcy. It’s been a long time since he lived here with me. I miss him. Your son is charming and sweet.” She stood next to him.
“Sweet? He’s got a mouth like a sailor and a temper—whoa, you don’t wanna know.”
“Not with me. I like him.”
“Thank God.” He grinned.
Clint’s hair was mussed from carelessly running his fingers through it. She took in every detail—his flannel shirt was open by two buttons, showing some chest hair, his cords fit snugly, and his face with its slightly square jaw and perfect lips at once frozen in a frown thawed into a warm smile when he saw her.
“How’s the play coming?”
“I think I found a place for the grandmother. As comic relief.”
“I can’t wait to read it. But it’ll have to be tomorrow morning.”
“You can read it when you get up,” he said, saving the document.
Nina went to her closet and plucked out an apricot print long, gauzy skirt and a scoop-necked, cotton sweater in a becoming shade of peach. A pair of gold earrings and a thin, gold choker completed the outfit. She sipped her champagne and offered some to Clint then stripped off her clothes and put on the fancier outfit. He sipped as he watched her. The heat from his stare pleased her.
“This is good stuff.” He nodded his head in approval and smacked his lips at the tangy flavor.
“We’re having champagne with dinner, too.”
“You’re pulling out all the stops.”
“I always do at Thanksgiving. These are dear friends coming.” She stopped for a second and smiled.
“Should I change?”
Nina rested her palm against his chest. “You look fine. More than fine. If I wasn’t having people here tonight, I might be tempted to—”
He cut her off with a kiss. “You’d better back away after that show you put on.”
“What show?” She placed her hands on her hips, her feet spread wide.
“Most people don’t change clothes like they’re doing a striptease.”
She laughed. “Saw right through me, didn’t you?”
“Duh, a no-brainer.”
“Save it for later.” She picked up a pair of earrings and stood in the mirror, fastening them.
“You won’t be too tired?”
“I hope not.”
They left the bedroom and settled on the sofa.
“Beat it,” Cory said, sauntering out of the bedroom, his hands in his jeans pockets.
Clint cocked his eyebrow at Cory.
“The second scenario. I won.”
“Terrific! Onto the third after dinner,” Nina said.
“So, who’s coming?” Clint asked, raising her palm to his lips.
“Shady and Sara and Lark are coming back.”
“I thought they were relatively new friends,” Clint put in.
“Sara’s mother was one of my best friends. She died of breast cancer about five years ago, and Sara has been coming here ever since.”
“Lark is coming back?” Cory asked.
Nina nodded. He pulled a comb out of his back pocket.
“My agent, Fran Doyle, is coming with her husband, Herb. And Henry’s sister, Lena, and her husband, Arnie.” Nina ticked off each person on the fingers of her left hand.
“Henry’s sister?” Clint asked, a look of distress on his face.
“She has come every year for over twenty years…oh, you don’t think? Lena won’t think anything negative about you. She’s not like that.”
He was interrupted by the buzzer. Nina sashayed over to answer it.
“Henry’s sister,” Clint muttered under his breath, as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.
“I heard that,” Nina said, turning her head as she put her hand on the phone that connected to the doorman.
Chapter Nine
About five minutes later, four people poured into the apartment. Hugging, laughter, and loud voices
preceded the folks entering the living room. Clint shifted nervously under the perusal of Nina’s friends. Cory stood slightly aside and watched, an amused smile on his face. Nina took coats from the women, and the men hung their own in the front closet.
“This must be the fabulous Clint,” Lena announced, sweeping into the room.
She was dressed in the finest, most expensive, cashmere dress in a light gray that flowed all the way to the floor, setting off her dark hair and fair skin to perfection. She was about ten years older than Nina and five inches taller. Too slender, but elegantly draped in white gold bracelets that tinkled and a necklace with matching earrings, she appeared as festive a sight as some of the Christmas trees decking out the windows of posh Fifth Avenue shops.
“Darling, he’s adorable!” Lena gushed to her sister-in-law.
Arnie, an attractive, slim, impeccably dressed man wearing Paul Stuart from head to toe in charcoal pants, white turtleneck, and tweed jacket, approached Clint with an outstretched hand. “Hi, I’m Arnie,” he said, shaking Clint’s hand then turning to Cory.
“This is my son, Cory,” Clint said, easing him forward.
“I don’t stand on ceremony,” Lena said, planting a kiss on Clint’s cheek and pushing into his arms for a hug.
Cory put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh as he watched his father’s obvious discomfort when he, tentatively, put his arms around Lena.
“Lena! He’s not theater, yet. Give him a break!” Nina admonished.
“He’s gorgeous,” Lena cooed over her shoulder at Nina, her eyes on Clint.
“He’s mine, Lena. You have Arnie.”
“Of course, of course.”
With a smile on his face, Arnie stepped over, gently disengaged his wife from Clint, and delivered a possessive kiss to her lips. “You belong to me, and don’t you forget it,” he said in a raspy voice, waving his finger in her face.
The buzzer sounded again, and Nina returned to the door while Clint mopped sweat off his forehead with a handkerchief.
Sara and Lark joined the growing group. Sara fell into Fran’s arms for a huge hug while Shady and Lark took off their coats and hung them up. Nina enlisted Clint’s help in opening the champagne. He uncorked bottle after bottle of the bubbly, light gold liquid, and Nina delivered flutes to each of the guests. Sparkling cider was given to Cory, who was sitting on the sofa chatting with Lark. Nina returned to the kitchen.
