by Selena Kitt
“Really?” She hesitated. Her grandmother had been so ill, and part of that, she knew, was living in the city. Fresh air would do her good. But the truth was, as much as Mae missed the country herself, there was now an even bigger reason for her to want to stay. Griff had just asked her for a date! But as much as she wanted to just bid Lionel a quick goodbye, in spite of his connections to home, she knew she had to do the right thing. “Actually, she’s been trying to sell it for a few months now, but in this market…”
“Is that so?” Lionel’s eyes widened in surprise. “Well, muffin, what say you and me go pay your grandmother a little visit?”
The doorman at the Century knew Mae and he let her up with Lionel without question. They chatted in the elevator about Nebraska, and Mae inquired about mutual acquaintances. She’d left her best friend, Irene, just as the girls were planning to find a college to attend together. Lionel said Irene had gone on to some art school in California, but Mae couldn’t even imagine it.
“Grandmother?” Mae knocked and then slipped the key into the lock when no one answered, opening the door at the end of the hall. The entire top floor was hers, but it was sectioned off, and her grandmother only lived in part of it. She opened up the other wings only when she had guests or entertained. The foyer was open and there was a large living area with a fireplace almost as tall as she was and hardwood floors her grandmother had covered with ornate rugs. The dining room to the left showcased a gorgeous oak table underneath a chandelier so heavy Mae often wondered how it stayed secured to the ceiling.
“I’m in the kitchen, dearest!”
Mae smiled at the sound of her grandmother’s voice, motioning Lionel to follow. In spite of the fact that Mae hadn’t even known the woman existed before a few months ago, she’d grown quite fond of her in the time they’d spent together, and it seemed the reverse was also true.
Mae found the old woman stirring a cup of tea and she wondered at that, frowning. Usually her grandmother had plenty of help—two maids to clean and a butler to answer the door, as well as a nurse who came in once a day just to check. Her grandmother rarely lifted a finger to do anything for herself. She didn’t have to, and she seemed to like it that way.
“Where’s John?” Mae inquired after the butler, kissing her grandmother’s cheek, catching the scent of lavender and rose water. The old woman’s skin was as soft and thin as the Kleenex Mae used to take cold cream off her face at night.
“I gave everyone the night off.” Her grandmother smiled as she turned to face her granddaughter, her eyes still bright, although her face was heavily lined. She was always impeccably dressed, still wearing heels, even at her age. “I have a surprise for you.” The woman’s eyes widened as she saw the stranger standing in her doorway. “And who’s this?”
“Oh, this is Lionel.” Mae smiled at him as he swept his hat off and bowed low. “Lionel Tryst. He worked for my father back home. Lionel, this is my grandmother, the first Maeve Eileen Verges.”
“So pleased to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Verges.”
Mae noticed that Lionel’s manners had already won her grandmother over, which was probably a good thing. If he had a buyer for the penthouse, that would go a long way toward getting it sold more quickly. Although she wasn’t sure anymore if that was a good thing. But she couldn’t deny that meeting Lionel right out front of her grandmother’s building had to be some sort of sign. It was too much of a strange coincidence not to mean something.
“He thinks he may have a buyer for your apartment,” Mae explained, taking the old woman’s elbow as she started toward the doorway.
“Oh that would be wonderful!” The old woman glanced up at Lionel as he flanked her on the other side, also taking her elbow as they made their way to the living room. “How did you know my son, Mr. Tryst?”
“He was a business associate,” Lionel explained as they settled themselves. “A finer man I’ve never met.”
Her grandmother beamed at his praise of her son and Mae couldn’t help smiling. The old woman got teary eyed every time his name was mentioned. She’d missed so many years of his life, and all of Mae’s up until now, just because she couldn’t stand the woman he’d married. Mae’s mother had been, as her grandmother politely put it, “Not of the same social stature” as Mae’s father. She’d never known her father had come from old money, or that her mother had been born poor and was just a young tennis instructor he met at summer camp his senior year.
There had been a great deal about her parents she didn’t know, she realized now. It didn’t make her love them any less, but it did make her sad, for all of them, at the time they’d missed. Her grandmother had changed her mind and had tried, many times she’d said, over the years, to reconcile, but Mae’s father was a stubborn man. He refused to return her calls and wouldn’t let her see her own granddaughter.
Of course, after the accident, her father hadn’t had a say in Mae’s life anymore, and when her grandmother had contacted her, asking her to come to New York, she’d gone in a haze of grief, looking for any connection she could find to her dead parents.
Now she couldn’t have been more glad she’d made that decision.
“Where are my manners?” her grandmother exclaimed. “Lionel, would you like something to drink? Something a little stronger than tea, perhaps?” The old woman’s eyes brightened as she looked at the younger man.
Lionel raised his eyebrows. “Now, Mrs. Verges, you have heard about prohibition, haven’t you?”
“Oh indeed, but there are ways around it, Mr. Tryst, if the price is right.” She winked and Mae swore she actually giggled before taking a sip of her tea.
“I’m sure that’s true.” He chuckled. “But thanks all the same.”
“You have alcohol, Grandma?” Mae looked at her in mock disapproval.
The older Maeve primly sipped her tea. “It’s medicinal.”
Mae met Lionel’s eyes and they both hid a smile.
“Speaking of medicine…” Mae opened her basket and removed the white bag. “The pharmacist said to tell you hello.”
“Oh good!” Her grandmother plucked the bag up, peering inside. “I’m sure I’m going to need these tonight.”
Mae laughed. “Why? What are you planning?” The pills were nitroglycerin for her grandmother’s angina, and she only used them when she was having an episode, which was usually when she got really excited—or angry.
“Your surprise!” The old woman glanced between the two of them, her gaze speculative. “And of course, you’re welcome to join us, Mr. Tryst.”
“How kind of you.” Lionel smiled, leaning back in the chair and glancing at Mae. She blinked, looking between the man and her grandmother.
“I normally hate crowds, but I’m making an exception.” The older Maeve smiled at her granddaughter. “We’re going to the movie premiere of King Kong!”
Lionel sat up, eyes widening. “The movie premiere?”
“Radio City?” Mae gulped, already knowing, with a sick, sinking feeling in her belly, that she was trapped.
And there proved to be no way to get around it. She tried, several different ways, to find an excuse to have to go back home, but her grandmother wasn’t having it. She had a new outfit for Mae to wear, so she couldn’t say she had to go home to change. And while begging off as ill crossed her mind, she knew how disappointed her grandmother would be.
So she changed into her new dress—Lionel’s eyebrows went up when she made her entrance and she flushed, thanking him for his compliments—and continued to make small talk until it was time to go, all the while thinking that there was no way to let Griff know she wouldn’t be at her apartment when he came to pick her up. She could imagine his reaction, but she didn’t want to think about him knocking and knocking…
The driver held open the door to the Roll’s-Royce limousine for her, but Mae barely saw him. She couldn’t think about anything but Griff. Would they pass his corner on the way to Radio City? She didn’t think she could bear it.
She turned her face way from the window and responded to something Lionel said with just a smile.
“You’re so distracted.” Her grandmother patted her knee and Mae tried to fight the tears threatening. She wanted to tell her about Griff, just come clean and tell her the truth—but how could she? Her grandmother had disowned her own son for less. How could she possibly ever accept a man who not only didn’t have any money or a pedigree, but one who peddled apples on the street corner?
“Just excited,” she assured her, covering the old woman’s hand with hers. Lionel sat across from the two of them, chatting away, something about the new subway system, and it was easy to tune him out.
“Oh goodness, look at that line!” The old woman gasped. “I can’t possibly wait in that!”
Mae looked out the window and saw it stretching down the side of the building. So many people!
“Leave it to me.” Lionel told the driver to stop at the entrance and let him off. Mae and her grandmother stayed in the car, watching as he went into the building, pushing past the rest of the crowd.
“What is he up to?” her grandmother murmured, but it wasn’t long before they found out. Lionel returned, waving three tickets as he helped Mae’s grandmother out of the car.
“How did you do that?” Mae asked as he led them in front of the crowd, guiding each of them by an elbow.
“You just have to know the right people.” He shrugged. “These are box seats, by the way. We’re up here.” He showed the tickets to a man in a red suit, who escorted them up a flight of stairs.
“My goodness!” Mae’s grandmother exclaimed as Lionel helped her into a seat. The box overlooked the entire theater as it filled with people. From this angle, Mae thought they might just be right on eye-level with the giant ape!
“This is quite a surprise!” Her grandmother sounded like a young girl and Mae couldn’t help smiling.
“So a surprise for your granddaughter turns out to be a surprise for you too,” Lionel said as he slipped in beside Mae. He leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You look lovely enough to eat.”
His words made her flush, and she murmured something that resembled a thank you, although she wasn’t quite sure that either his comment or her answer were appropriate. But her grandmother was sitting beside her and she couldn’t protest without drawing attention to herself. What she wanted to do was melt into the seat and disappear. Well, that wasn’t entirely true—what she really wanted was to be here with Griff, down there on the floor amidst the rest of the crowd, pressed far too close together and warm.
Instead she was sitting next to Lionel Tryst, who kept whispering compliments that made her blush, his knee coming far too close to hers as the lights in the theater went down. There was a stage show prior to the picture—something about jungles. She wasn’t paying too much attention, because Lionel’s hand had moved from his knee to hers.
By the time the movie started, Lionel’s hand had moved to her thigh. Mae shifted in her seat and crossed her legs, hoping to give him a strong enough hint. She leaned away from him toward her grandmother to ask if she was cold—up here the theater did seem a little chilly—and stayed as far from him as she could in her seat.
Thankfully, he didn’t touch her again, but while that situation had improved, now she had time to think about Griff. He was supposed to be here beside her, whispering and joking and making her giggle. And when the giant ape appeared and killed the snake, she wanted it to be Griff’s hand she grabbed, not Lionel’s—she couldn’t help herself, the scene made her hide her face against his suit coat in terror—and when the poor creature tumbled from the top of the Empire State Building, she wanted it to be Griff’s handkerchief she used to wipe her tears, not Lionel’s.
“What a picture!” Mae’s grandmother dabbed her eyes with her own handkerchief as the lights came up, the crowd below buzzing with excitement. Mae handed Lionel’s handkerchief back to him as they walked down the stairs, making their way toward the car. The driver had been waiting down the street for them to appear and he swung the door wide, sweeping them all in.
“What did you think of the movie?” Lionel inquired, looking at Mae from his seat across from her. He was still too close, his knees touching hers.
She blinked at him, wishing it was Griff asking that question. With him, she could be honest, and she knew he would be too. So instead of tackling the racism inherent in the film, or even the implied eroticism, which was an even more dangerous topic, she just murmured, “Fay Wray is very beautiful.”
“Not nearly as lovely as you, my dear,” he responded.
Mae’s grandmother smiled approvingly, glancing between the two of them, and Mae inwardly groaned. She knew that look. It was her grandmother’s, “I have to find this girl a husband” look and more specifically her, “I think I’ve just found a prospect!” gaze. Lionel was a kind man, and while he did remind her of home, if she’d been interested in him, she would have responded to his advances back on the ranch when her parents were alive.
Of course, her grandmother didn’t know that, and she began to question him in earnest about his parents, his employment, his general status and character. At least it kept Mae from having to talk. She watched the city lights go by and thought about Griff. She hope she could repair her jilting him tonight, make it up to him somehow. Maybe they could have a picnic in the park?
“You two run off and play.” Her grandmother patted her hand and winked over at Lionel as the car pulled up in front of the Century building. “This old lady needs her rest. But my driver will take you anywhere you want to go.”
Mae’s heart sank.
“That’s very generous of you.” Lionel opened the door, helping her grandmother out of the car before the driver could, and Mae took the opportunity, grabbing her red wool coat off the seat and slipping out the door behind them.
“Grandmother, I’m going to walk home.” She leaned over and kissed the old woman’s cheek. “I need some fresh air.”
“You can’t walk home alone this late at night!” her grandmother protested, but Mae waved her response away, already walking.
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Verges,” Mae heard Lionel respond. “I’ll see she gets home safely.”
He caught up with her in just a few strides and she didn’t protest when he fell into step beside her. It really wasn’t safe to walk at night, she knew, but she couldn’t bear the thought of being cooped up in a car with Lionel and spending the night fending off his advances.
The air was cool and she shivered, stopping to put her coat on, and Lionel helped her. She let him. They walked in silence for a while, until Mae couldn’t stand it anymore.
“So do you really think you’ll find a buyer for my grandmother’s apartment?” she inquired politely as they rounded the corner. The city looked very different at night. The terrain changed, becoming hazy, as if seen through a veil.
“I believe so.” His response was short and she had a feeling he was angry with her—probably for rebuffing him in the theater. That made her relent a little and she glanced up at him as they walked.
“What did you think of the movie?” she asked.
“Beauty and the Beast in the jungle?” He snorted. “Except in this version, beauty kills the beast, which is really a little ridiculous when you think about it.”
“It wasn’t the girl who killed him,” she countered. “But I admit, it was a rather doomed relationship. They had nothing in common.”
He flashed her a smile and a sidelong glance as they walked. “Oh, I think they had at least one thing in common.”
They were coming up on Mae’s building and she slowed, stopping in front of it, to look up at him. “What’s that?”
He took a step toward her, so close she could feel the heat from his body, even through her thick, red wool coat. He leaned in to whisper against the shell of her ear, “Their primal natures.”
Mae took a step back, smiling. “So you subscribe to Darwin’s theory?” she asked, started up her teneme
nt steps.
He looked up at her quizzically. “Who?”
“Thanks for walking me home.”
He frowned. “Don’t you want me to see you up?”
“Good night,” she said gently, waving from the top of the stairs. “Thanks again for walking me home.”
He didn’t look happy, but she left him anyway, watching her from the bottom of the stairs as the door closed and locked behind her. The lift in her building was old and she waited a long time for it to decide to start rising toward the eighteenth floor, making her stomach lurch.
Her thoughts were fully back on Griff again and her belly filled with regret. If only she had found a way to contact him. She had left her basket at her grandmother’s, but she would pack something up tomorrow anyway and go over to the apple cart to apologize. Make him a double-decker sandwich. Maybe even bake a pie. She had lots of apples, thanks to Griff, and she made a pastry crust that melted in your mouth.
Decided, and feeling just a little better for it, she stepped off the elevator, glancing down the hall as she looked through her purse for her key, when she saw him out of the corner of her eye. He was sitting beside her door, head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed. Oh my god, he waited for me. He’s still waiting for me!
He was snoring softly as she approached and she could look at him freely. He was wearing a suit, a nice one, and there was a top hat resting on the carpet beside him. His face was clean-shaven and she followed the line of his jaw with her gaze, strong and solid, her eyes drawn down to the tie at his throat. He looked so handsome she could have cried.
“Griff.” She cleared her throat, nudging him gently with her knee.
His eyes opened slowly and the look in them when he recognized her made her stomach do little flips. He should have been angry—furious in fact—but he was actually happy to see her. She could tell by the sleepy smile beginning at the corners of his mouth.
“There she is.” His smile broadened. “I think we missed the picture.”
