“You will definitely achieve that goal,” Janice said. “But along with the money, you’ll have to deal with the fame. Are you prepared for all that attention?”
Barbara hadn’t thought of herself as being the center of focus in Carden, or anywhere else for that matter. But she did seek Belinda Armstrong’s attention. Beyond that, she didn’t really care who knew of her, as long as they bought her book. “Intellectually, I know what to expect. As for the emotional side, I am still working on that.”
“Take it one day at a time,” Janice said. “This wave of attention won’t last too long, especially with Christmas just around the corner.” Her telephone rang and Barbara left the room.
At her desk, she looked through her planner and smiled proudly as she caught sight of the bookings for January and February. She would be speaking three to four times a week. The winter would pass very quickly.
Barbara was ready for Chicago. She had spent the previous evening with Elaine. The older woman had celebrated with her and helped pick out a few evening pieces and lingerie from the shop. She also gave Barbara a weekend bag that one of her daughters had left behind. Afterward, the two women enjoyed a lovely dinner at the Carden Inn. At dinner, they talked about the new developments in their respective lives and made a pact to keep in touch.
On Friday, Graham arrived a few minutes short of four-thirty and they set off for the airport. Barbara was glad he had offered to drive her. She was overwhelmed by the size of the terminal and the constant flow of humanity. Graham helped with her tickets and boarding pass. Before leaving, they shared a long, lingering kiss.
Barbara watched him walk away. She thought of the lovely, celebratory dinner he had prepared for her earlier in the week. Each day, it was getting harder and harder to see Graham. She definitely had feelings for him, but she couldn’t allow herself to become too attached. She was determined to leave him at the end of her year in Carden. While small town life was pleasant, it would not be enough for her.
Barbara continued toward the boarding area for her flight. She underwent the security procedures, listening to the complaints of her fellow passengers. While it was an onerous process, unfortunately there was now a need for it. As she glanced at the other passengers, she saw many tense and slightly green faces. She mentally thanked Lisa738 for the desensitization button.
The actual flight proved uneventful. She had purposely taken a window seat and spent most of her time looking at the clouds and shrinking landscape below. In very little time, they arrived at O’Hare Airport. She looked about and saw a number of people holding signs. Ah, so that is how it’s done, she thought. She scanned the crowd, hoping to catch sight of her own name or Gillian’s.
And then she saw her. There was no mistaking Gillian Sanderson. She was Marietta of the Etta tribe. Barbara would have recognized her anywhere, even without her sign. The tall, blond woman wore an ensemble of head-to-toe cream-colored pants and sweater, topped by a short fox fur jacket. She called out, “Gillian, I’m over here.”
Gillian smiled in welcome as she approached Barbara. As she got closer, Barbara caught sight of the lightly tanned skin in striking contrast to the blue cornflower eyes and blond halo. Gillian Sanderson had retained all her mermaid looks and added a few human enhancements. Barbara was certain of that. She didn’t know how long Gillian had been on earth, but she knew that some cosmetic surgery had been done. Everything was just too perfect.
The two women stood quietly for a few minutes, appraising each other. Gillian spoke first, “I had a feeling you would recognize me. I would not have recognized you. You may have lost some of those spectacular Bella looks, but you have a definite spark in you. It comes through in those expressive green eyes and that alabaster skin. And you don’t look your human age. You could easily pass for a forty-year-old woman. You’ve done well, Barbara.”
“Thank you, Gillian. You look amazing.” She couldn’t say anything more. She was still awestruck by the younger woman’s beauty and noticed the many admiring looks Gillian received from men of all ages.
Gillian grinned at Barbara. “They’re not just looking at me, you know. Some of the looks are for you.”
Both women laughed and linked arms. Barbara was glad she had worn her higher heels. At five foot seven, she considered herself a good human height, but Gillian was taller.
Gillian started talking again. In her familiar breathless voice, she went through the proposed itinerary for that evening and the next day. Barbara shook her head. “That’s too much for me. I may not look fifty-three, but this middle-aged body can’t compete with a . . . what is your human age?”
Gillian made a face. “I’m thirty-nine. But don’t ever tell anyone that, especially a man.”
It was clear that Gillian had issues with aging. While she didn’t look a day over twenty-nine, her body would soon start to display the signs of the aging process. It was inevitable for all mermaids who assumed human form. Only those mermaids who remained in the underwater kingdom could retain their youthful appearance and live forever. Annabella, at age seventy, could easily pass for a twenty-five-year-old human.
Barbara reassured Gillian. “Not to worry. I won’t reveal your age. Let’s scale down those activities.” Her stomach gurgled. “I ate very little on the plane. So I would enjoy dinner tonight at any restaurant you would recommend.”
“I know just the place,” Gillian said. “We could spend some time there and then go back to my condo.”
Barbara followed Gillian through the maze of doors, corridors, and escalators that led outside. After a short walk, Barbara caught sight of Gillian’s sleek, black Mitsubishi. “That car suits you to a T. I wonder what type of car would suit me.”
“You’re a classic. Go with a BMW. A black BMW.”
Chapter 20
“Where did you learn to drive?” Barbara asked.
The younger woman aggressively navigated the busy streets of downtown Chicago and arrived at their destination in very little time.
“I sell cars for a living. I have to know how to drive them.”
Barbara shook her head. “I don’t think I could ever drive like that.”
“When I visit you in Canada, I’ll give you a few lessons.”
Barbara tried to visualize Gillian in Carden, but couldn’t imagine her spending even a few hours there. It would be too slow, too sedate for her.
Gillian gave her a quick glance. “What’s wrong, Barbara?”
Barbara started to speak and then changed her mind. She did not want to talk about Carden. She was in an exciting, vibrant new city and she needed to focus on her future, not her present situation, and most definitely not her past. “Just a bit tired. But I know I’ll perk up once I’ve had supper.”
Both women got out of the car and headed toward a large skyscraper. Gillian said, “I must admit I’m hungry as well. I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do, so I made reservations at a few different places. Cité is my favourite. And I think you’ll like it as well.”
Barbara looked questioningly at the skyscraper that loomed before them. “The restaurant is in that building?”
“It’s way at the top, seventy stories high. Best French restaurant in town, with a great view of the skyline and the lake.”
They entered the building and took the elevator up to the seventieth floor. The maitre d’s face lit up as soon as he spotted Gillian. He welcomed her enthusiastically, “Bon soir, Mademoiselle Gillian. Beautiful as always. You are a breath of fresh air.” He looked over and smiled at Barbara. “And who is this lovely lady with the emerald green eyes?”
“Bon soir, André. This is my friend Barbara Davies from Canada. She’s a writer. Stewart Tobin is representing her.”
Barbara felt her cheeks heat as Gillian made the introductions.
André’s smile became wider and he looked at Barbara admiringly. “Ah, beauty and intelligence all in one package.” He shook Barbara’s hand warmly. “I’m afraid no one will be enjoying their food tonight. They will
spend most of their time admiring both of you.” He led the women to the center of the room and seated them at a table in full view of everyone in the restaurant.
Barbara was impressed by the elegance of their surroundings. The room had a luxurious feel, with carpeted floors, cream-colored banquettes, and tuxedoed waiters. Their table was beautifully set with an oversized glass vase and a single stalk of purple hydrangea. A shimmering lilac-colored sheer fabric flowed underneath the white linen tablecloth.
Barbara, are you still with me?” Gillian teased. “You haven’t said a word since we entered the doors of this restaurant. Are you always this quiet?”
Barbara blushed and then frowned. This involuntary response was becoming an annoying habit. She had to stop being so overwhelmed. She knew that Carden was small, but she hadn’t realized just how small until she landed in Chicago. While her Bella nature craved a metropolis, the fifty-three-year-old Barbara Davies was happy and comfortable in Carden. “I guess I’ve become a small town girl.”
“After only three months? I don’t think so, Barbara.” Gillian waved her arm. “This is where you’re meant to be. That’s why you contacted me and wrote the book. If you had been happy with life in Carden, you wouldn’t have thrown so many irons in the fire.”
Before Barbara could respond, a handsome, tuxedoed waiter appeared at Gillian’s side. “Bon soir, Mademoiselle Gillian. I am so happy to see you at my table.” He winked. “The other waiters are green with envy.”
“Thank you, Philippe.” Gillian nodded toward Barbara. “This is Barbara Davies, my friend from Canada. She is one of Stewart Tobin’s writers.”
Philippe gave Barbara his full attention. “So beautiful and so talented. I am honored to meet you, Mademoiselle Barbara.” He handed the two women their menus. He then spoke directly to Gillian. “White or red?”
“White,” Gillian replied quickly. “I’ll leave the choice in your very capable hands, Philippe.”
Philippe nodded and left.
Barbara waited until he was out of earshot. “Are they all French here?”
“Some of them are. And the rest are given French versions of their names.” She added, “You’re probably wondering why I didn’t select the wine. To be truthful, I know very little about wine. I usually come here with a man and he does all the ordering.”
Barbara was not surprised. Gillian was definitely a man’s woman, more accurately a rich man’s woman. She was curious about Gillian’s relationship with Stewart Tobin. She wanted to know more about his background before she met him on Sunday. “I’ve noticed that whenever you introduce me, you always bring up my connection to Stewart Tobin. Is he that well known in Chicago?”
“Stewart Tobin is one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors. He’s also gorgeous and filthy rich—scads of old family money.”
“And he’s only a literary agent?” Barbara asked.
Gillian shrugged. “He loves books. His great-great-grandfather made all the money years ago during the gold rush in San Francisco. He also invested in real estate throughout southern California and Arizona. The money has been well managed for over a century and all the descendants are reaping the benefits. As the youngest son, there was no pressure on Stewart to go into the family business. So he decided to stick with his passion.”
“And he never married?”
“He had a disastrous early marriage that ended in an acrimonious divorce. Thankfully, there were no children. He decided . . .” Gillian paused and smiled at Philippe as he poured the wine.
Philippe pointed to the menus. “Ladies, have you decided?”
Gillian gave him her most dazzling smile. “Almost there. Give us a few more minutes.”
Both women busied themselves with the menu. Barbara was impressed by the wide assortment of appetizers and entrées. It was a far cry from the Carden Inn. After some deliberation she decided on the quail appetizer with wild rice and a citrus sauce. For the main entrée, she selected the sea bass. Gillian selected the foie gras with strawberry and pistachio as appetizer and the filet mignon Oscar.
Philippe nodded in approval as they placed their orders.
A few couples stopped to chat with Gillian while they waited for their food. Barbara noticed the men’s admiring glances and the women’s tight smiles. When introduced, Barbara received a few polite nods of acknowledgement. But the attention always returned to Gillian as she talked about the latest gala she had attended.
When they were alone, Gillian quietly looked out the windows. Barbara followed her gaze and took in the spectacular view of the skyline. It was breathtaking. There was no doubt that Chicago was an exciting city, filled with adventures and opportunities.
Gillian spoke first. “I often wonder what would have happened if I had left Chicago after James tired of me.”
Barbara was surprised by the tinges of regret she heard in Gillian’s voice. She had been so animated before. The conversation with those couples had dampened her exuberance. “You have a great life here, Gillian. What would you have done differently if you had left Chicago?”
Gillian turned back to Barbara. “I might have gone out west to California or Arizona. It’s warmer out there, and I think I might keep better, especially as I grow older. I might also have found a special man and married him.” She added, “Someone like your Graham.”
Barbara shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Could Gillian be envying her? Was that even possible when she had so much going for her? She was young, still beautiful, and well off. At least, that’s what Barbara had gathered from their conversations. “But, surely . . .”
“Your appetizers, mademoiselles.” Philippe interrupted the conversation and deposited the beautifully arranged dishes on the table.
Gillian laughed. The good humor had returned. “Très belle. Give my compliments to the chef.” Philippe whispered in Gillian’s ear and winked at Barbara as he left.
Gillian looked eagerly at her foie gras. “I’ve been looking forward to this meal all day. I love coming here, especially in late evening. There’s so much life and excitement all round.”
She looked at Barbara for approval. “I hope you’ll enjoy the meal.”
Barbara was taken aback by the mercurial change of mood. It seemed that two Gillians inhabited the same body and that they took turns coming out. For the rest of the evening the happy, exuberant Gillian dominated the conversation. Barbara enjoyed all her food selections. Later, Philippe talked them into sharing the Cherries Jubilee.
Chapter 21
Barbara awakened to the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. She gasped as she looked at the time on her bedside clock. It was a little after ten in the morning. She had never slept in this late before.
As she slipped into her robe, she cast another envious glance at her surroundings. Last night she had been blown away by Gillian’s large condo, which boasted over two thousand square feet of living space. The high ceilings and glass walls made it seem even larger. Gillian had decorated it herself. Although she may have regretted choosing that particular Specialist Skill, the results were spectacular. The entire condo was decorated in whites and off-whites with subtle pale green undertones. Everything from the soft, Italian leather sofa in the living area to the Egyptian cotton sheets in the bedroom had been carefully selected to create a calm, muted feeling.
Barbara contemplated showering and getting dressed but decided to talk with Gillian first. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and combed her hair quickly. She entered the kitchen and found Gillian in a similar state. “Good morning, Gillian. I’m sorry I slept in. I don’t know what the plans are.”
“We don’t have to fill every minute of the day with activity. I don’t know about you, but I get enough of that at work.” Gillian pointed to the barstool. “Now sit down and have your coffee. I’ll make my famous low-fat smoothies and some French toast. Are you okay with that?”
Barbara nodded with enthusiasm and watched as Gillian whipped up the egg mixture and prepared the bread. Sh
e sipped her coffee and took in every detail of the modern kitchen with its granite countertops and island, tiled backsplash, and stainless steel gas appliances. She sighed and thought of her own comfortable but dated kitchen. She noticed the laptop at the far end of the nook. “Do you mind if I check my email? I like to do that before I start my day.”
“Go ahead.”
Barbara logged in and checked the three messages in her inbox. She smiled as she read congratulatory messages from Hannah and Janice. Both women had been so supportive while she was researching and writing the book. She frowned as she checked the sender of the third message. She hesitated and then read the cryptic message from Sharon Clarke: The universe has whispered in your ear. Louder messages will follow. Prepare for the upheaval. Sharon.
“Unbelievable!” Barbara muttered.
Gillian glanced over at Barbara. “Is there something wrong?”
Barbara gave Gillian a brief summary of her conversation with Sharon and read the annoying email to her.
“Those New Agers are everywhere, even up in Carden.” Gillian arranged the French toast on two separate plates. “Now, forget about that tiresome woman. Breakfast is served, mademoiselle.”
Barbara returned to the breakfast nook and gratefully took in the beautifully arranged French toast and cut fruit on a china plate. Gillian poured the rose-colored smoothie mixture into large glass beer steins.
The women ate and drank companionably without speaking for a few minutes.
“Who is the New Ager in your midst?” Barbara asked.
Gillian rolled her eyes. “Many of the salesmen have wives who dabble in Reiki, chakras, reflexology, and all that New Age stuff. A few of them may try to read your aura at tonight’s party.” Gillian laughed. “They had some problems with me. One of them suggested that I show my authentic self and stop leading a double life. Another one informed me that I was surrounded by water in one of her prophetic dreams.”
Between Land and Sea Page 10
