“Get your purse, and I’ll lock the door behind you,” he said, as he retrieved her coat from the rack by the door and held it for her in gentlemanly fashion.
Loretta stepped through the door he opened for her, resolved to find out what the two men were up to.
***
“Quite a looker, Frankie,” Delgado said as Haynes returned to his chair behind his desk. “I didn’t know you’d hired somebody new.”
“I have over 500 employees, Charles. I’m not in the habit of consulting you about my staffing.”
“She’s not some burger flipper now is she, Frankie?” he answered, ignoring Haynes’ sarcasm. “What’s she do?”
“She’s my office gal. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Delgado raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t needed an office gal before. Why now?”
Haynes stared icily at Delgado.
“She from around here?” he pressed. Haynes didn’t do anything without an ulterior motive.
“No, she’s just moved here.”
“Huh. Well, you lucked out, Frankie boy. She’s a hot broad. If she doesn’t work out for you, I’m sure she could work under me.” He grinned at his crude pun.
“I’m busy, Charles,” Haynes replied curtly. “Why are you here?”
“You know why, don’t you, Frankie,” Delgado snarled. “Tearing up the check from that old geezer at Fairview yesterday? Made quite a stir for yourself, didn’t you? Good publicity. But the boys didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all,” he glared at Haynes.
“Is that what this is about?” Haynes sighed in disgust. “I was going to give the money to you anyway.” He reached into his side drawer and pulled out an envelope with cash. He slid it across the desk to Delgado. “Here. Don’t trust me. Count it.”
Delgado’s eyes darted from the envelope to Haynes. He hesitated, then put the envelope in the breast pocket of his jacket.
“Okay, Frankie. We trust you,” he said, trying to regain favor with Haynes.
“No, you don’t. We don’t trust each other.”
“Don’t talk like that, Frankie. You know how the boys is. We don’t want any more of us dying of natural causes now do we?”
Haynes swung on Delgado.
“What are you saying, Charles?”
“Let’s just say that guys who cross us don’t live as long as people who don’t. The boys saw all that stuff in this morning’s paper about what a great humanitarian you are, and they got a little miffed. I’ll straighten them out.”
“You do that,” Haynes said.
He rose from his chair and headed to the door, motioning Delgado to follow him. With little choice, Delgado heaved himself to his feet. He paused, halfway to the door.
“You having some extracurricular fun with your new office gal? What was her name?”
“We don’t all have sex with our employees, Charles,” Haynes replied with a sneer as he unlocked the door and ushered Delgado into the growing dusk.
“Word to the wise, Frankie boy. Get yourself a piece of her. Gotta have some fun in life,” Delgado advised as Haynes shut the door.
He shook his head as he heard the lock click. If that idiot Haynes didn’t want to have fun with her, he sure did. He’d have to find out more about Haynes’ new assistant.
Chapter 40
Maggie sat at her desk at Town Hall in the early afternoon the Wednesday after Thanksgiving, unable to concentrate on any of the urgent matters before her. The kids had all departed for California early Monday morning, and she had rushed straight to her office after dropping them at the airport. She was exhausted and her energy level and enthusiasm were going downhill, fast.
Maggie pushed back her chair and picked up her coffee cup, then replaced it on her desk. What she needed wasn’t more caffeine; she needed something to cheer her up. She was an empty nester again and life seemed dreary after the excitement of getting ready for Thanksgiving and the visit from her family.
Her cell phone began to ring, and she retrieved it from its perch on the corner of her desk. She was delighted to hear the deep, masculine rumble of John on the other end.
“Hey, you; how’s it going?” he asked.
“Fine, I guess,” she replied.
“Anytime someone qualifies ‘fine’ with ‘I guess,’ things aren’t going fine. What’s up? More murder and mayhem at Town Hall?”
“No. Nothing like that. Just the same old stuff,” Maggie said with a small smile. “I’m exhausted and it’s not from lack of sleep. I got eight hours the last two nights. I’m feeling blue after the family visit, after all the hustle and bustle.”
“I’m not surprised. You put so much time and energy into making everything perfect—you succeeded, by the way—you were bound to experience a letdown.”
“Thanks for understanding,” she replied.
“I’ve got an idea to cheer you up. Can you get away? Now?”
“I guess so.” She checked her watch. “I think I can leave early for once. But what about you? I’ve never known you to close the animal hospital early.”
“I don’t have any appointments booked for the rest of the afternoon. My staff can close up. And they can call me if they get any emergencies. I haven’t played hooky for years, and I think today’s the day. You with me on this?”
Maggie laughed. “All right, Ferris Bueller. I’m in.”
“Perfect. What are you wearing right now?”
“Why on earth is that important?”
“Need-to-know basis. What is our distinguished mayor’s current attire?”
“I’m pretty casual, if you must know. Slacks and a sweater.”
“Perfect. Warm coat?”
“Yes. What are you up to?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. I’m on my way. Meet you at Rosemont in twenty minutes.” He hung up without waiting for her response.
***
Maggie was sitting on the front steps of Rosemont when John pulled up. She had exchanged her Burberry trench coat for a warm jacket and retrieved gloves and a scarf from the hall closet. She didn’t know what he had in mind, but she guessed it involved being outside.
John pulled to a stop and intercepted her as she made her way directly to the passenger side of his car. He swept her into his arms and kissed her slowly.
Maybe they should skip whatever activity he had planned and just go inside now, she thought fleetingly.
John opened her car door and waited for her to sit. She watched as he crossed in front of the car and slipped behind the wheel, thinking what a fine-looking man he was—agile and strong.
“So, where are we headed?” she asked casually.
John shot her a sidelong glance. “Patience, Prudence.”
Maggie laughed and the gray cloud that clung to her began to dissipate. “Have it your way, then, mystery man.”
She relaxed into her seat and enjoyed the warm sunshine on her face through the car window and the stark beauty of the leafless trees outside. Westbury’s first snowstorm was predicted for the weekend and she thought how pretty this drive would be with a fresh dusting of snow.
They made small talk, recapping the events of the long Thanksgiving weekend. Maggie finally leaned forward and tapped the dashboard.
“That’s it! We’re headed to The Mill, aren’t we?”
John smiled broadly.
“How wonderful! I’m starved; I’d love to have an early dinner there.”
John looked worried. “Are you really that hungry?”
“I’m famished. But if we’re not going there for dinner, that’s fine. I shouldn’t have assumed. It’s my own fault for not eating lunch today. I can wait.”
“We’ll eat there, but the dining room doesn’t open until five thirty.”
“That’s fine. Where are we going until then?” she asked as John turned into the long, winding driveway along the Shawnee River.
John pulled into the deserted parking lot and turned to face her. “One of the maintenance men was in my cli
nic with his dog on Monday and said they were setting up the skating rink on Tuesday. Said it would be open for public skating this weekend.”
He paused and was gratified to see the smile sweep across her face.
“You didn’t!” she squealed.
“I did. Came out here yesterday afternoon and spoke to the same young woman I dealt with last spring. She remembered me and thought it would be fitting for us to open up the rink, since we closed it down last season. Talked her manager into it; she told him it would be good karma.”
Maggie laughed. “I think she’s absolutely right. And what an inspired thing for you to do. You never cease to amaze me,” she cried, placing her hand on his cheek and smiling into his eyes before kissing him warmly.
“I’m sure we can rustle up some food from the bar to tide you over until dinner. Let’s do that first.”
“Who’s hungry? Not me,” she scoffed. “I want to go skating. Race you,” she cried as she leapt out of the car and bounded up the steps.
***
They stepped onto the pristine surface, their skates making the initial tracks. And soon they were gliding effortlessly, hand in hand, letting the breeze whip through their hair as the sun made its trek to the horizon; the only sound, the swoosh of their skates. By the time the young man signaled that it was time to get off the ice, their ears and noses stung. Still, neither of them wanted to quit. Reluctantly, they complied and turned in their skates.
Among the first to arrive for dinner, they chose a table along the bank of windows overlooking the river and the now deserted rink. Maggie smiled lovingly at John.
“This is even more romantic than last time,” she said. “I wouldn’t have thought it was possible to top the best first date ever!”
John beamed. “I guess I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve. Who would have thought?”
“Anyone who knows you, that’s who. You are the kindest, most generous soul I’ve ever met.” She gazed at him seriously. “I love you, John. I’m so very grateful that you gave us a second chance.”
John flushed. “I wanted to be the first to say it,” he sputtered. “I had it all planned. I wasn’t sure if you were ready to love someone again. I’m so glad you are, because—”
Maggie leaned over and touched his arm. “Wait. Let’s wait. I want to hear it however you planned it. There’s something special for both the bearer and recipient of the statement ‘I love you.’ It’s as important to say as it is to hear. One of the great joys of life, don’t you think?”
John nodded and brought his hand over hers. “The three best words will wait in any language,” he replied and smiled. “Your wish is my command. Proceeding as planned.”
They finished the meal in leisurely fashion, even though both were anxious to return to Rosemont and spend time alone in each other’s arms. John was visibly relieved when Maggie declined the dessert menu; he followed suit. They made the drive to Rosemont in companionable silence, their hands clasped on the console between them.
“Will you come in?” Maggie asked as they climbed the steps to the massive front door.
“I’d like nothing better.” John turned Maggie toward him and gazed at her upturned face. “You are the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met. You have completely captured my heart. When we were apart, you occupied my every thought. I love you, Maggie. I admire you and am so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. I’m here to support you in any way I can; in any way you need. You can always count on me.”
Maggie brought her lips to his. After a delicious eternity, she unlocked her front door and the lovers entered into the protective embrace of Rosemont.
***
Much later that night, John carefully withdrew his arm from under Maggie’s head. She stirred and brushed her hair back from her face. Rising on one elbow, she turned to him.
“Are you awake?” she whispered.
“Just woke up. I have to be at the hospital at five thirty for surgery. I should probably get going; I don’t want to disturb you at that ungodly hour,” he said, pulling the cover over her bare shoulders when she shivered.
“Don’t go. Stay with me. I’m an early riser; you won’t bother me. Unless you don’t think you’ll get a good night’s sleep here. I know you have to be well-rested in the morning.”
John pulled her close in response. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” he said as he breathed into her hair.
***
Maggie had fibbed to John the night before when she told him she always got up that early. The truth was she hadn’t been up at four fifteen in years. She sent him off to his house for a shower and shave with a cup of coffee in hand, fully intending to crawl back into bed. Sleep eluded her, however, and she finally threw in the towel and got up at five thirty.
She decided to get dressed and head to her office at Town Hall. She was on her way to retrieve her coat when her eye settled on the box from the attic that Susan had brought down but neglected to return to its place. What was it Susan had told her about the box? That it was full of household guest books, menus, and memorabilia? She had a few minutes before she needed to leave; surely it wouldn’t take long to make a quick assessment of the contents.
An hour and forty-five minutes later, Maggie was happily ensconced in the middle of the living room, surrounded by stacks of invitations, menus, and ledger sheets detailing Rosemont’s active social life at the turn of the century. What a treasure trove this was. Weddings, cotillions, card parties, and picnics on the lawn; Rosemont had hosted them all. There was even a dog-eared recipe for a Pink Lady cocktail. Judging by the stains on the card, this recipe had seen a lot of use.
Of particular interest to Maggie was an invitation to a Christmas tea. The hand-lettered calligraphy was a work of art; she’d frame it and display it on the sideboard in the dining room as a Christmas decoration. Maggie checked her watch and was shocked at the time. Instead of arriving at her office early, she was going to be late.
She carefully replaced the items, other than the invitation for tea, in the box that had housed them for over a century. As she rose to her feet an idea hit her—she’d host a Christmas high tea at Rosemont. The place was decorated to the nines, and it would be a shame not to let other people enjoy the manor’s festive beauty. Her mind began spinning. She bent down and retrieved the cocktail recipe.
On the short drive to Town Hall, she mentally sketched out her to-do list. She’d invite Sam and Joan, Alex and Marc, of course, Pete and Laura and the baby, the Knudsens, Judy Young and Ellen, the Holmeses, and that nice elderly couple from Fairview Terraces who had just gotten married. She was warming to her subject. If she invited Tonya Holmes, would she need to invite the other town councilmembers and their families? She supposed she should. And what about the town clerk and the other Town Hall employees? This was getting complicated. One thing was certain; she wouldn’t invite that obnoxious editor from the Westbury Gazette or anyone else who’d been openly critical of her.
Still, the guest list was swelling. Her eye caught the beautiful old invitation on the seat beside her. What in the world was the matter with her? So what if she invited a hundred people? She should be thankful that she knew a hundred people in Westbury to invite, and she had a house that would easily accommodate them. This was going to be tremendous fun.
Maggie stole another glance at the invitation. She would have someone carefully copy it, inserting the new date. There was nothing like a real invitation to set the tone for a party. She’d head over to Celebrations as soon as they opened to place her order.
Linens, china, and silver? Rosemont had more than enough. She had plenty of tables and chairs scattered around the house, too. She’d call Sam to help her arrange them.
She’d place a large order for pastries with Laura’s Bakery and she would handle the tea sandwiches herself. She pulled into her parking spot at Town Hall and fished a sheet of paper out of her briefcase. She scribbled a few notes and, satisfied, made her way into Town Hall.
***
At nine forty-five, Maggie headed toward the town square at a brisk pace. It would be faster to drive, but the morning was clear and sunny and Maggie was eager to stretch her legs. By the time she placed her orders at Laura’s Bakery and Celebrations, word was already out about the upcoming Christmas tea at Rosemont.
While she waited for the elevator to take her back upstairs to her office, the town clerk approached Maggie. “That’s so nice of you, Ms. Martin. We’re all so excited.”
Good heavens, Maggie thought. There’s no such thing as a secret in this town. I don’t know why anyone would pay for advertising around here; you just need to tell Judy Young at Celebrations. She’s got the best news-delivery system in town.
Maggie didn’t mind. It was nice that people wanted to come. Wasn’t that why she was throwing this party, anyway?
She managed to put the Christmas tea on the back burner until lunchtime when her cell phone rang. Her caller ID showed it was John. She answered as soon as she could grab her phone.
“Hi there,” she said. “How are you doing? Did you make it through your surgeries okay?”
“Yes. Everything here’s fine. Just another day. Except Judy Young and her Schnauzer just left here. She tells me that Mayor Martin is hosting a ‘really grand, formal Christmas high tea at Rosemont.’ That she’s doing the most amazing invitations, the decorations are stunning, and it’ll be the social event of the season.”
Maggie laughed. “She’s something, isn’t she? I’m having a few people over for tea two weeks from Sunday.”
“You didn’t mention it last night. Am I invited or is this just a woman thing?”
“Of course you’re invited! I didn’t mention it last night because I just thought of it this morning.”
John was silent for a moment. “You’re amazing. And crazy. You know that, don’t you? But after the way you got the Easter carnival going last year in only a few weeks, I have no doubt that this tea will be a huge success. People’ll be talking about it for decades to come.”
“I don’t think it’s that big a deal,” she replied.
“Au contraire, my dear. You’ve done it again. I’m here to help you. What can I do?”
Weaving the Strands Page 20
