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Talk of the Town

Page 26

by Sherrill Bodine


  They moved the gifts into the foyer before they walked into the dining room. The flowers fit perfectly between the Waterford crystal goblets and the gold-rimmed Tiffany china.

  She stepped back to admire how beautiful it looked. “Wow! It’s like it was made for this table setting.”

  “Imagine that. Now go into the living room and fuss with the presents and tree like you do every year.”

  “Can I help you in the kitchen?”

  He hugged her. “You are the most divine woman on the planet. But the kitchen is not your milieu. In fact, no one must enter my domain today. Genius demands privacy.”

  The zeal in Harry’s eyes was contagious. Well, he might be king of the kitchen, but she was the Christmas maven. Rebecca placed all the presents under the tree, rearranged some of his ornaments for maximum effect, and plugged in the lights. She could see the tree reflected in the window. With the background of falling snow, it reminded her of that old movie about miracles at Christmas.

  Everyone else arrived together. While Kate hung up coats, Pauline put more presents under the tree. Patty and Polly, dressed in matching green velvet skirts and frilly white blouses, jumped up and down, trying to figure out which presents belonged to them.

  “We’re not opening presents until after dinner,” Pauline reminded them for the fifth time.

  “When are we going to eat?” Polly asked again for the sixth time.

  “Dinner is served,” Harry announced from the doorway. He’d removed his hat and apron. Impeccably dressed in sharply creased charcoal gray trousers and a gray cashmere sweater that hung perfectly on his broad shoulders, he ushered them all into the dining room.

  “Sorry for that short cocktail hour. The little angels would have driven us mad,” he whispered out of the side of his mouth.

  This year, Harry sat at one end of the table and Kate at the other. Rebecca was on Harry’s right. Pauline on his left. With the girls on either side of Kate. It was perfect. All of them together for the holidays.

  The wild mushroom soup was already on the table. As soon as everyone finished, Harry whisked the bowls away and brought out frisée salad with Stilton and grapes. He passed around a basket of popovers.

  “Boy, you’re quick in that kitchen,” Patty said, grabbing a popover.

  Harry gave her a little smile. “I have little elves, like Santa’s helpers, in the kitchen cooking for me.”

  “Really?” Polly eyed the closed kitchen door.

  “No, girls, Dr. Grant is trying to be amusing.” Kate shot him a look, and he sat down good-naturedly.

  Through the contre filet in Perigourdine sauce, wild rice, and puree of broccoli, plus several refills of apple juice served in crystal flutes for the girls and champagne for everyone else, Harry remained true to his word and allowed no one near the kitchen.

  When he came back into the dining room carrying a tray with bowls of grot laced with cream and sprinkled with cinnamon, Rebecca groaned.

  “Harry, it’s too much.”

  “Nonsense. We’re continuing the tradition your granny began. Whoever gets the ring will be the next to wed.” He winked at Pauline.

  Polly saw it and stuck her spoon in the grot. “I want the ring! I want the ring!” She scraped the spoon around in her bowl.

  “Stop.” Pauline took the spoon out of her hand. “Wait until everyone is served. You’re too young to think about boys.”

  “Ugh, I hate boys!” Polly said in disgust. “I want the prize.”

  Something large came up in Rebecca’s first spoonful of grot. A huge square-cut diamond ring winked at her through a thin layer of cream.

  “Very funny, Harry.” She wiped the stone clean with her napkin. “My God, it’s gorgeous. At least five carats.” As she slipped it on, she laughed up into his beaming face. “Where did you get it? A Cracker Jack box?”

  “No. It came from Van Cleef and Arpels,” David answered softly from the open kitchen door.

  He didn’t look the slightest bit haggard with his hair mussed up and his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. His eyes, bright and clear, leveled on Rebecca’s face. She felt a sense of inevitability, as if she’d expected, wanted, this moment someplace deep inside from the moment they met.

  David watched his willing accomplices leave the room one by one.

  A little weepy, Pauline hustled the girls out. He heard Polly ask, “Why is Aunt Becky so red and glowy?”

  Kate touched Rebecca’s shoulder. “You have a royal flush. I couldn’t let you fold.”

  Harry lifted Rebecca’s chin. “Be good to yourself, sweet pea. David is a whiz in the kitchen,” he whispered, and kissed her cheek.

  At last David was alone with her.

  In three strides he reached her, pulled her chair away from the table, and dropped to his knees in front of her.

  He looked up at her, holding nothing back, wanting her to see how much he needed and loved her. “I couldn’t believe my good fortune. I fought against it. I kept thinking, this can’t be happening. This can’t be real. I looked for a reason not to be happy with you so I could keep my promise to myself. And Shannon allowed me to find one. I couldn’t see how I could be true to both of us at the same time. Now I do.”

  He took her hands and kissed each palm. “Accepting I love you, I’ve surrendered to living life to the fullest, the way we all should. I’m luckier than I deserve to have had two great loves in my life. To have found you is the greatest gift of my life.

  “Don’t you think I’m afraid to jump, too? Please catch me.” He gazed into her eyes and saw his life come full circle, back to happiness.

  She looked straight into his eyes, and her brain released so much dopamine she thought she’d die of the pleasure rush.

  She closed her eyes and slid to the floor, pressing her soft thighs to his harder ones, her breasts against his chest. She felt his arms encircle her, and she lifted hers around his neck. She opened her eyes and there was no pain. Only joy.

  “We’ll catch each other,” she whispered.

  “Always?” he said, his voice a little gruff around the edges from emotion.

  “I promise.” She smiled, so full of love she might burst, but she needed to tell him everything.

  “Marry me,” he demanded, pulling her closer.

  She put her palms against his chest, holding him at bay a moment longer. “There is something you should know first. I’m marrying you, but I’m working for the Journal and Courier.”

  A mischievous grin curled his mouth. “A whole new twist on the legendary rivalry. This could be interesting.”

  “I’m betting on it. I’m planning for it to be extremely interesting. Especially for my readers.” Slowly she outlined his lips with the tips of her fingers. “Still want to marry me? We’ll be the talk of the town.”

  “The jet is fueled and ready to go. We can be married in Vegas tomorrow.” He nodded toward the living room. “They all have their bags packed, ready to come with us.”

  She sighed and replaced her fingertips with her lips, brushing his ever so slowly. “Then I see no reason to spoil my granny’s devout belief in the grot ring and happy endings.”

  Epilogue

  Even on Christmas Day the casino at the Bellagio was packed with hopeful players. But here, floors above the clamor, in the changing room of the chapel, there was only serene silence.

  Rebecca wondered how many others who began their journey to “happily ever after” in this wedding chapel felt the same raw rush of emotion. I’m marrying the love of my life.

  Clasping her small bouquet of red roses to her breasts, she stepped to the door of the chapel, festooned with more roses. Everyone she loved turned to look at her.

  Her family. Old and new.

  David rushed up the aisle and clasped her hand. His gaze swept over her gold Luca Luca gown, and he grinned.

  “I love you in that dress. I can’t wait to take it off you.”

  He tried to pull her forward, but she resisted, digging in her stilet
tos.

  He kissed her hand. “Nerves?”

  “Confession. You should know I’m really not a very good cook.”

  He kissed her nose. “I am.”

  “Do you have any last words?” she whispered, dangerously close to tears of joy.

  He took a deep breath. “Are you all right with being a grandmother so soon?”

  She glanced past him to Jasmine, who glowed with impending motherhood. “Are you kidding? That was the deciding vote to marry you. Everyone I know says if they’d known what fun grandchildren are, they would have had them first. I am.”

  He tilted her chin up and gazed into her eyes. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  Hand in hand, they walked into the glorious future.

  DON’T MISS

  SHERRILL BODINE’S

  NEXT BOOK!

  CHICAGO JOURNAL AND COURIER SUNDAY

  Talk of the Town

  by Rebecca Covington-Sumner

  Darlings, tongues are wagging about the grand opening of Pandora’s Box. Athena Smith is opening the vintage couture bazaar with her sisters in honor of their late mother. After all, it was she who taught them that when you enter a woman’s closet, you get a glimpse into her life: who she is, who she has been, and who she has hoped to be.

  But their mother never dreamed that her beloved oldest daughter, Athena, would have the opportunity to get a glimpse into the closet of Chicago’s most famous family: the Clayworth’s top-secret fallout shelter built beneath a farmer’s field during the cold war. And she certainly never dreamed that Athena would be battling the Clayworth heirs of our iconic Chicago Store to salvage her father’s once pristine reputation. In this battle of wits and wills between Athena and Dr. Drew Clayworth, the most enigmatic of the devastatingly handsome cousins, enough sparks will fly to light up our long, hot summer nights.

  Sherrill Bodine’s next book promises to open up the secrets of Chicago’s finest closets to all of us. Don’t miss it! And check out her Web site at www.sherrillbodine.com.

  THE DISH

  Where authors give you the inside scoop!

  From the desk of Eve Silver

  Dear Reader,

  The best part about writing a series is falling in love with the characters and having the chance to visit them again. The tough part is writing a book that can be read as part of an ongoing story and read as a stand-alone. Those are the series I enjoy most as a reader, and in DEMON’S HUNGER (on sale now), I was determined to create a unique and independent story within the larger framework of the Compact of Sorcerers series.

  I wanted Dain Hawkins, the sexy, seductive mage of illusion first introduced in DEMON’S KISS, to have a chance at his happily-ever-after. But I needed a heroine who was his true match, someone strong and smart and independent, someone who could hold her own. Someone who could help him overcome the shadows of his past. I’m such a sucker for a tortured hero.

  In DEMON’S HUNGER, Vivien Cairn is a forensic anthropologist who fears she’s losing her mind. She’s been suffering from blackouts, with no memory of where she’s been or what she’s done. When Dain asks for her help in hunting a super natural serial killer, she agrees, and as they delve deeper into the mysterious deaths, they are forced to confront the horrific possibility that Vivien is somehow connected to the crimes. But is Vivien the killer . . . or the next intended victim?

  Bones play an important role in the hunt for the killer, and the study of bones happens to be near and dear to my heart. I’m an instructor of human anatomy, so the unfolding connection between the killer and the bespelled bones in the story held a particular fascination for me. The research for this story was great fun, and I almost forgot to draw the line and not dig deeper than I absolutely had to. Oh, and the urge to include pages of scientific explanation was powerful, but I wrestled it into submission and included only the tidbits that the story absolutely required. Temptation, temptation. LOL!

  For more info on the Compact of Sorcerers, check out my Web site at www.evesilver.net.

  Happy reading!

  From the desk of Sherrill Bodine

  Darling Reader,

  As my heroine Rebecca Covington would say, I promise to tell you everything!

  Renowned as Chicago’s most notorious gossip columnist and real spitfire to boot, Rebecca cer tainly isn’t shy about keeping her word in TALK OF THE TOWN (on sale now). She reveals all, especially how she feels when the new owner of the Chicago Daily Mail tosses her off her gossip guru throne and into the lowly Home and Food section to write a biweekly recipe column. The best part is what she plans to do to regain her lofty position and convince the new boss he’s made a dreadful error in judgment . . . but I’m not going to tell you all of Rebecca’s secrets. You’ll have to pick up a copy of TALK OF THE TOWN and read them for yourself!

  I will say anyone’s best laid plans would go awry when confronted by her boss, David Alan Sumner. Not only is he impossibly handsome, intriguingly arrogant, and wealthy, he also possesses a nobility of spirit that is impossible to resist—although she gives it her best shot. After all, she is no longer a naïve young woman who is looking for prince charming. She’s been through the divorce wars, so she no longer believes in “happily ever after.” But then why does David inspire such powerful, pas sionate, torrid emotions, bringing her to wish for the impossible?

  Much of TALK OF THE TOWN is based on my life and friends in Chicago, so research is a joy—I’m living it and loving it. I especially love sharing some of my favorite haunts, like Lulu’s—truly the finest vintage couture anywhere—and a few of my favorite recipes from when I cooked. Don’t miss the Not Low Cal Triple Orgasmic Fudge Pie. I promise it is worth every calorie. It actually won a bake-off, and my friend Ann has the first-place copper pan to prove it. She is truly Chicago’s most famous gossip colum nist, and at her knee, I learned to always change names to protect the guilty. Lucky for the innocent, they have nothing to hide.

  I hope you enjoy this peek beneath society’s glitter and into its heart. I’d love to hear your secrets, so please visit me at www.sherrillbodine.com!

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  Available at bookstores everywhere from

  GRAND CENTRAL PUBLISHING

 

 

 


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