Between You and Me

by Lynn Turner

  Allie sighed and joined Emanuela at the counter. “Well, the little demon spawn is here in case you want to say hi.”

  His tone immediately brightened. “Hey, gorgeous!”

  Emanuela grinned, quickly swallowing the macaron she’d stuffed into her mouth whole and barely chewed. “Hi, Jamie! What on earth are you doing?”

  “I hate to break it to you, Em,” he said in a deathly serious tone, “but the woman you thought was your friend all this time is actually a witch.”

  “Oh come on!” Allie said, planting her flour-covered palms against the counter.

  “She is,” Jamie said. “She’s trying to force me to practice her black magic to keep you under her spell.”

  Allie rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to teach him how to make canelés and he’s being such a wuss about it.”

  Emanuela gasped. “Yes!”

  “Don’t get too excited,” he said, irritably. “I did something. Tell me what I did.”

  “I can’t see you,” Allie snapped. “Besides, it could be anything. You have to start over.”

  “What!” he yelled, and then something crashed to the floor. “No way. The damn batter sat in the fridge for two days. I am not starting over.”

  Allie threw up her hands.

  “Okay,” Emanuela said, mediating the quickly deteriorating situation. “Hang up and dial us back on video.”

  A few minutes later, Allie was watching Jamie on Emanuela’s tablet, her face screwed up. “Put them back in.”

  “They’ve been in there for over an hour,” he said. “They’re going to burn.”

  “They’re not gonna burn, okay? They’re not even close to done.”

  “They’re golden brown.”

  “They have to be deep brown,” Allie said, patiently. “Deep, deep brown. They’re gonna need another hour.”

  Jamie looked at Allie like she was certifiable but obeyed, placing the copper pan of precious little French cakes gently back on the oven rack and shutting the door.

  Emanuela took the tablet from Allie and grinned at Jamie. “You hate baking.”

  She got a snort in reply.

  Jamie was put out, but Emanuela laid it on thick, opening her eyes wide and giving him a little pout. “You love me.”

  “Well, since you’re obviously hopelessly addicted to these little demon cakes, and Allie insists they’re only good for about five hours—”

  “On the outside,” Allie said from her place at the sink.

  Jamie wrinkled his nose. “Anything for you, gorgeous. You know that.”

  Emanuela mouthed a quick “Thank you” before Allie snatched the tablet away.

  “Send me a photo when they’re done. If they’re ugly, we have to start over.”

  “Ugh, goodbye.”

  ****

  Allie and Emanuela walked arm-in-arm along Gramercy Park West. Autumn had finally arrived, the humidity of summer making way for the crisp, cooler air and shorter days of late October. The leaves of the tree-lined streets in the manicured neighborhood were a rainbow of reds, oranges and golds. They fluttered overhead, or drifted above people in chunky knits and wool-blend coats walking their pedigree dogs. Allie dragged Emanuela out for a walk beneath the old-fashioned street lamps to work off some of the dessert she’d devoured over the space of twenty minutes.

  “Thanks for the dress, Em.”

  “Yeah, well, you weren’t very subtle.”

  Allie nudged Emanuela playfully with her hip and navigated their path around the park’s gated perimeter. “Spill. I tried to stay out of your business until you were ready to tell me, but my patience has its limits! This is really happening, isn’t it?”

  Emanuela giggled nervously. “I guess it is.”

  “You guess?”

  “I’m obviously moving,” Emanuela said. “But I think we’re both nervous about specifics.”

  They synchronized their turn onto North Gramercy, Allie shaking her head in amusement. “You two have been at it like rabbits since you met each other but you draw the line at shacking up?”

  Emanuela laughed at that. Allie was right, of course. “I know it sounds ridiculous but it just feels different somehow. It’s hard to explain…”

  Allie glared at her. “I’m gonna need you to try, hon. My oven is still on.”

  “He wants me to move in with him. But I know him, Allie. We’ve been flirting with the word marriage a lot and it’s— I know it’s coming. I just don’t know when he’s gonna make his move.”

  “I knew it was coming too in an odd way,” Allie said, slowing their pace. “I’m really happy for you, Em. I know I have a weird way of showing it—”

  “The canelés.”

  Allie’s smooth, pale skin blushed prettily. “Jamie and I thought you might get homesick—at least in the beginning. We wanted you to have something to make you feel better. And since I’ve never seen you use anything but a coffeemaker and a microwave…”

  Emanuela gasped, stopping their steps abruptly. “Not true! I just don’t have time to cook.”

  “Okay, hon,” Allie said, giving Emanuela’s hand a patronizing pat.

  They were quiet for a moment, and it occurred to Emanuela that what they’d been referring to as “the future” was becoming a present reality.

  “Oh my God,” Allie breathed.

  “I know.”

  “We have to pack! We have to list your apartment. We have to figure out what furniture you’re taking—what clothes I get to keep—”

  “Whoa,” Emanuela said, her eyes wide. “Don’t give me a heart attack, okay?”

  Allie grinned. “Right. Sorry.”

  Emanuela took Allie’s arm again and turned them back toward her apartment. “Okay, show me what you’re wearing to the gala.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Two Weeks Later

  Five hundred guests descended on the breathtaking colonnade of Grand Central Terminal. The women were stunning, every one of them an ethereal beauty in keeping with The Midsummer Night’s Dream theme of the night. Gowns of every shade, intricately beaded or expertly ruched, swept their way across palatial pink marble floors. Travelers passing through the terminal en route to their trains stopped to stare and, if they were lucky, immortalize one of the beauties in a photograph as she paused to admire the painted heavenlies in the cylindrical ceiling far above their heads. The gentlemen were impressive in their tuxedos and polished shoes, captivating passersby with their confident mystique.

  Ticketed guests were allowed entry into Vanderbilt Hall, its magnificent arch draped in twisting vines and braided branches illuminated by hundreds of tiny fairy lights. Once through, the effect was powerful—and immediate. The contrast between the busy terminal and what lay beyond that archway was debilitating, causing guests to gasp in awe and even clap in spontaneous appreciation. The elegant grandeur of the century-old great room was overtaken by a magical forest.

  Burgeoning vines scaled the forty-eight-foot walls and stretched across the ceiling, the marble and stonework deliberately visible beneath living décor. Moss dripped from the ceiling in gorgeous shades of violet, maroon and pale green. Five large crystal chandeliers stretched from one end of the space to the other, shining dimly through the moss.

  Hundreds of hanging glass terrariums of varying size holding tiny white tea lights dangled from the branches of each manzanita tree at the center of the round dinner tables, accompanied by antique candelabras. There were even custom crystal wine glasses for each guest to take home. Too many fairy lights to number wrapped around the branches of centerpieces, crept up walls and stretched across the ceiling, giving the enchanted space the appearance of a night lit by millions of stars.

  Guests not participating in the silent auction enjoyed their cocktails, or snuck decadent desserts from the bars at either end of the room, waiting for the dinner portion of the program to commence. An eleven-piece orchestra, including a stunning golden harp and a vocalist reminiscent of Ella Fitzgerald’s sweet, silvery tone, fil
led the space with entrancing sound.

  Finn was nervous. He was scheduled to speak and the seat to his right was noticeably empty. Emanuela was busy rubbing elbows with sponsors and chatting up the silent auction tables. His wasn’t the only admiring glance to follow her about the room, the sheer chiffon of her Watteau train trailing behind her. He shared a table toward the small stage up front with Simon, Jamie and four other esteemed guests and their dates.

  The conversation was easy, since Finn was well-acquainted with everyone. He managed to convince four of the doctors from points abroad who’d received his printed prosthetics for their patients to attend the event. They, along with Finn, would be honored that evening, and being able to speak face-to-face for the first time was a treat for them all. He was enjoying their company, but he hadn’t been able to greet Emanuela properly yet, and he was itching for a good look at her. She’d insisted they not see each other before the gala…

  “We’ve never seen each other all dressed up before, Finn,” she told him. “I want us to be surprised.”

  And surprised he was. Stupefied, more like it. She looked otherworldly, sheathed in royal blue chiffon that moved like air—or water. It was one with her body, fitted flawlessly from its one-shouldered strap, to her hip, where it fell like a curtain to the floor. She moved and his mouth went dry. The weightless fabric parted into a slit that reached mid-thigh, showing off a long, silken leg.

  He noticed the gift he’d given her on her birthday gleaming from her wrist and smiled. He wasn’t completely sure of his next observation, but he could swear her hair was longer, styled into forties waves like an old Hollywood star.

  Fitting, he thought with open admiration. He couldn’t find a coherent word the first time he spotted her that evening, and Jamie and Simon had shared a good laugh at his expense.

  “Uh-uh.” Jamie tugged Finn by his arm to locate their table.

  Finn scoffed at the idea that the slighter man could stop him from going to Emanuela by strength alone. Jamie silently seemed to agree, trying another tactic altogether. “You aren’t about to follow her around like a lovesick puppy.”

  Finn was unmoved by the insult and pushed along anyway.

  “She’ll be done schmoozing eventually!” Jamie said more insistently. “Have some dignity, okay? Come wait with us like a big boy.”

  “That’s enough, Jamie,” Simon said. “I think he gets the point.”

  Emanuela finally made her way to the table soon after, and Finn stood to greet her. He wisely opting to graze her cheek with a soft kiss, instead of enveloping her on the spot and ruining the alluring berry shade of her lips. He must have stared too long, because Jamie deliberately cleared his throat from his seat beside hers, and her cheeks flamed. She greeted everyone at the table, pecking air kisses to Jamie and Simon’s cheeks before taking hold of Finn’s arm.

  “I’m just going to borrow him for a minute,” she said with a brilliant smile.

  “Please do,” Jamie muttered with a pointed glance at Finn.

  She mouthed, “Behave,” and led Finn away.

  Finn leaned toward her to whisper in her ear. “You slay me.”

  The elegant Emanuela Monroe missed a step, and his satisfied grin remained until they reached their destination. A man rose from his place at a table near the dessert bar to greet them and Finn recognized him immediately. “Morris!”

  “Good to see ya ’gain, Doctor Kane,” Morris said. “I want you to meet my wife, Alicia.”

  “Finn,” he said with a smile, taking Morris’s hand before kissing his petite wife’s cheek. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

  “That was Miss Monroe’s doin’.”

  Finn questioned her with a lifted brow and she winked.

  “Morris entrusted me with a fifteen hundred-dollar donation during our stay in New Orleans,” she said. “It got him and Alicia an entry in the raffle for a weekend getaway anywhere in the continental U.S.”

  Finn remembered the envelope Morris insisted Emanuela take at the airport before they left the Crescent City. “Thank you so much!” he said. “Your donation will pay for at least ten new prosthetic limbs. I can’t thank you enough, Morris. Both of you.”

  The couple looked embarrassed at the attention.

  “It’s great what you’re doin’ Doc—Finn,” Morris said humbly. “We’re just glad t’help out a little, ’specially after how good you and Miss Monroe have been to us.”

  “It was the opposite!” Emanuela said warmly. “We really had a good time.”

  Morris nodded, not about to contradict a lady.

  “I hope you win that raffle,” Finn said. He took Morris’s hand one last time, and turned with Emanuela to leave.

  ****

  The first course was served promptly at eight. The music was sublime, conversation flowed, and guests mingled between tables. Emanuela spotted a copper-haired beauty in a beaded champagne gown and intricate high bun. “Allie! You look amazing!”

  “I know,” she said, pecking Emanuela’s cheek. “Hi, love,” she greeted Jamie, exchanging cheek kisses in turn. “Good Doctor,” she said, nodding at Finn. She grinned before addressing the rest of the table. “Other good doctors.”

  After entertaining the table with her hilarious brand of small talk, Allie bent to Emanuela’s ear. “Come find me when you’re done working.”

  ****

  The orchestra took a break during the second course. A montage of photos, video footage and interview clips of the patients Finn and his colleagues abroad had helped with the printed prosthetics began to play, and he saw Emanuela’s eyes prick when little Maddie and Simon Peter’s faces graced the screen.

  After a brief introduction from the paid hostess of the night, Finn’s colleagues were honored with plaques for their charitable work under extraordinary conditions. Moments before Finn’s turn, Emanuela squeezed his thigh beneath the table and he looked at her, absorbing every bit of warmth and encouragement from her eyes to ease his nerves. He’d given plenty of talks before, but they both appreciated how different this was. With a kiss to her hand, he rose to take the podium. The screen behind him flickered on, and the silhouette of a baobab tree, the symbol he’d chosen to represent his nonprofit, stood majestically in front of a setting sun.

  “Thank you,” he said, his deep, genuine tone blanketing the room. He examined the plaque he held, heavy crystal with his name etched in gold leaf. “Wow. You know, when I started this work a couple of years ago, I just wanted to use some part of my passion for good. It started out as an effort to help people who’d sustained severe injuries in communities that suffered recent tragedy. When someone is considered lucky to be alive, and food and water are the most urgent needs, it’s easy to overlook the loss of a limb.”

  He straightened to his full height, looking out at the sea of well-dressed people with able bodies, and bank accounts that could afford the very best in medical care. His gaze took in the incredible doctors who shared his table, and finally rested on Emanuela. She was the reason he stood there just then, the reason he would be able to help so many more people for as long as he was able. At her subtle nod, he took a calming breath.

  “Thanks to your generous donations, Budding Limb has grown from a grassroots effort that started in a two-car garage, maintained by the handful of doctors honored tonight, to a respected establishment that will help countless people across the globe. You aren’t just providing a one-time service. You’re giving child patients new limbs every four years. These prosthetic limbs will grow with the patients, ensuring old limbs aren’t used past expiration, and improving overall quality of life. In addition, we are now able to print prosthetics in stronger materials, something we previously couldn’t afford. This means injured men and women, out of work because they can’t afford proper prosthetic limbs that can withstand the rigors of manual labor, will be able to care for their families again.”

  “Is there anything more important, more profound than that? To be afforded dignity? To be able to w
ork to meet an end? To fulfill a dream? That’s exactly what you’ve done tonight. You’ve helped to realize a dream that means more to me, even, than this amazing award. Thank you.”

  He said the last two words with a nod and, before he could step from the stage, the audience was on its feet, their applause and cheers going into the air and trickling out to curious travelers in the great terminal. Emanuela stood and clapped along with everyone else, her eyes brimming with pride and immeasurable joy.

  When Finn returned to his seat, she didn’t hesitate to reach for him and pull him into a long embrace. “I’m so proud of you,” she said into his ear. “That was so moving. I love you so much.”

  “Ditto,” he whispered back.

  He was dying to peck her nose, her cheeks, her lips…but he knew the show of affection she allowed herself in the moment was a big step for her, and didn’t want to ruin it by putting her on the spot in front of their table guests.

  “Ahem!” Jamie said. “If you can’t share with the class, save it for later!”

  That brought another round of laughter to the table, and the orchestra returned to serenade the room. Those who hadn’t gorged themselves made their way to the dessert bars. Volunteers for the event skillfully rearranged some of the tables to clear a dance floor in the center of the space, and the lighting was adjusted to turn the enchanted forest an enticing blue.

  Jamie and Simon were already up and moving, along with countless other couples. Finn eyed Emanuela suggestively and she giggled. “Stop looking at me.”

  “I can’t,” he said, honestly. “You’d have to gouge my eyes out, and even then they’d roll in your direction from whatever sorry spot they landed.”

  “Oh my God.” She wrinkled her nose.

  He stood, lifting a brow at her in challenge as he extended his hand to her. “Dance with me.”

  He took her hand and she settled into his frame comfortably, one hand on his shoulder, the other held gently in his. They moved, mere centimeters apart, and she looked up at him with pride in her eyes. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but tell me so I can keep doing it.”