by Tamie Dearen
Henri’s limousine was waiting for them. Anne crawled in and he sat on the opposite side. He wore a sad smile. “It is over, is it not?”
“What? What do you mean?”
“I am a Frenchman. I know when there is no passion in a kiss.”
“I… I was shocked. I’m not used to public affection.”
“No, my angel. I felt you respond to me before. This time…”
A lump swelled in her throat. “I’m sorry, Henri. I didn’t want to hurt you.”
He crossed the car to put his arm around her. “Je suis d'accord. I am okay.” He patted her shoulder and sighed. “There is this nurse. From the hospital. And maybe I like her. She is very good to Anna-Laure.”
She chewed he lower lip. “Really?”
“Maybe. We will see. But I suspected already this might happen. From Switzerland. From our phone calls.”
“Then what was all that back there with Mr. Gherring?”
“The pig! He thinks he knows something. He tries to make me look like a fool. He has talked to Michelle.”
“Michelle?”
“Yes, Michelle came to see me last week. She told me she still loved me. And I realized…” he spoke with wonder on his face. “I realized I felt nothing for her. I do not trust her anymore. But she thinks it must be someone else—maybe you or the nurse. She cannot believe I would not come back to her, unless there was someone else.”
“Good riddance, Henri. I don’t trust her either. You can do better.”
“At least you still believe in me.”
She sighed. “What a mess, Henri. What about tonight, the expensive restaurant? And tomorrow’s Christmas party?”
He gave her the old devilish grin she’d grown accustomed to. “Tonight, I will have my angel on my arm, and we will both forget our worries. N'est-ce pas?”
Saturday
As the streets came to life Saturday morning, Anne was already up, strolling along the sidewalks. After lying awake in bed from three a.m. to five, she’d finally given up trying to sleep. She’d made it to her favorite coffee shop so early the doors were still locked, so she’d walked the streets trying to clear her head.
She’d finally found someone for Steven, someone who’d might actually make him happy. He’d never have to be alone again.
Ellen was sweet and selfless. And her association with Steven was already helping her career. It was ideal. Everything was perfect. And Anne was the one responsible for making it all happen. Another matchmaking success story.
So why did she feel so miserable?
She heard a voice call from behind her. “Hey Anne! Where are you going? Aren’t you coming in for coffee?”
Mr. Hamilton was leaning out the door of his shop and motioning for her to come back. She hesitated a moment, not really feeling up to socializing, but couldn’t bring herself to disappoint him.
“I can’t stay long today, Mr. Hamilton.”
“Oh?” he asked with a broad smile. “Do you have a hot date?”
To her complete horror, she suddenly burst into tears. He gasped, but quickly responded, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
“Anne, honey, what’s wrong? What happened?”
He continued to hold her and pat her on the back. As she caught her breath, she let him lead her to a chair. Seated in front of her, he handed her a tissue and waited patiently for her to look up from her hands as she wrung them together in her lap.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I should be happy everything worked out so well. You know, I think maybe he’s really in love.” She paused to take a deep shuddering breath.
“He’s been so miserable and alone, and no one understood him before. He hides himself in his business and never lets anyone get close. He thought he was so self-sufficient, but I knew he needed someone who could break through all those barriers. Someone who could really love him. Someone who could understand who he really is. Someone who would love him for himself and not for his money or his power.”
She stopped to wipe her tear-streaked cheeks. “I’m so happy for him.”
“Are we talking about Margaret’s grandson, Steven?”
“Who’s Margaret?” Did his face turn red?
“I meant to say Mrs. Gherring. Are we discussing her grandson?”
Curious at his awkwardness discussing Gram, she almost forgot how miserable she was. “Yes, I’m talking about Margaret’s grandson. My boss.”
“So, are you saying Steven Gherring is in love, now? And this is why you’re crying… because you’re so happy?”
Steven Gherring is in love. Why do those words make me want to crawl in a hole?
“That’s it. I’m j-j-just s-s-so happy.” She sobbed anew, covering her face and peeking between her fingers. Mr. Hamilton must think I’m crazy.
He shook his head like he was waking from a daydream. “And who’s he in love with?”
“Ellen. And sh-sh-she’s wonderful. What’s wrong with me? I love Ellen, I really do. And I’m so happy for them.”
She attempted to make a proud face. “And I did it!”
“You did what?” He peered at Anne as if she might confess to murder.
“I matched them. I brought them together. I did it. I’m responsible for their love. That’s why I’m so happy.” She reached for another tissue to wipe her face and blow her nose.
“Sweetie, I know I haven’t known you for a real long time. But is this what you usually do when you’re extra happy?” He waited quietly while she sniffed a few more times and took another deep quaky breath.
“Not usually,” she admitted in a small voice.
“So, that means… maybe you aren’t so happy after all?”
She should be happy, but she felt awful. “No, I’m not happy. I’m not happy at all. What’s wrong with me? I don’t understand. I’m miserable. I feel like all the air has been sucked out of the world. Maybe I need to see a doctor. That’s it—I need a psychiatrist.”
“I believe you, honey, because I’ve never seen you like this before. Everything will be fine, I’m sure.” He scratched his head. “I thought… well, that is… Margaret mentioned she thought Steven was in love. She didn’t ever actually mention this Ellen girl.”
“Yes, well it all happened so fast. Monday, I was trying to introduce them, and he was really rude to Ellen. Then he sat down and had lunch with us and asked her all kinds of questions.” She paused to recount the events in her mind.
“Then the next thing I knew, he was flirting with her. And he asked her out. And he was showing her off to the social reporters. And they were in his apartment together.” She felt herself blushing at this last memory.
“And they’re going to the Christmas party together. And he’s bought her two new dresses.”
She put her hand on his arm. “That means something, you know. He said he doesn’t do anything that doesn’t mean something.” She saw him flinch and realized she was gripping his arm tightly. Removing her hand, she saw the imprints of her fingernails remained behind.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Hamilton. But he looked so comfortable with her last night. So content. I can tell he doesn’t need me anymore. Wait… maybe that’s the problem.” She blinked a few times, suddenly excited. “Maybe it’s like when your child grows up and leaves home and you realize you aren’t needed anymore.”
She went on, her enthusiasm growing. “That’s it! For weeks I’ve been obsessing about Steven Gherring and finding someone for him to make him happy. Now that that’s happened, I guess I’m miserable because I’ve lost my purpose.”
Mr. Hamilton twisted his mouth to one side. “I guess that could explain it. You’d certainly have a right to be miserable after losing your purpose.”
She nodded vigorously and felt her spirits lift a little. “I would, wouldn’t I? I’d be depressed and gloomy.” She allowed herself a small smile as she watched him for confirmation. “And confused.”
He bobbed his head in agreement. “And sad and pathetic.”
> She stared at him. “Pathetic?” Her lips began to quiver. “I’m pathetic?”
Tears fell like a waterfall. Mr. Hamilton gaped at her and fumbled for a tissue, finally handing her the entire box.
Rayna spotted her the moment she entered the lobby. “Anne! Where have you been? I didn’t see you leave.”
“I just went for an early morning walk. Why? Did you need me for something?”
“No. It’s just… you know… I feel like someone should keep an eye on you.”
“Okay, Rayna.” Anne eyed her friend curiously. She’d certainly been attentive lately. As if she were constantly keeping track of Anne’s whereabouts. “First, I’m going upstairs to take a shower. And then I’ll probably take a nap, because I didn’t sleep well last night. I’ll eat lunch around noon. Sound okay?”
Rayna returned a sheepish smile. “Don’t tease me. I’m just doing my j—” She choked. “I meant to say duty. I’m doing my duty to society to watch out for you.”
Anne’s cell phone rang.
“Hi, Gram. Did you call to get a report on Steven’s date last night?”
“I’ll get straight to the point, dear. Are you going to the Christmas party with Henri?”
“You’ll be happy to know we broke up. And I’ve decided I’m not going to the party at all.”
“You can go with me.”
“Thanks Gram, but I don’t really feel like a party.”
“You’d make an old lady go by herself?”
“You could go with Steven,” she suggested.
“He’s going with that Ellen girl.”
Arguing with Gram was futile—she might as well give in. “Okay Gram, I’ll go with you. But I’m only staying for a little while.”
“That’s fine. Now let’s go shopping. I want a new dress.”
“I was going to take a nap…”
“Plenty of time for that after you take me shopping for a new dress. I don’t want to wear the same one I wore last year.”
“Okay, Gram.” Anne stifled a huge yawn. “What time?”
“I’m on my way now, dear.”
Gram took her to a small exclusive dress shop. It was nothing like the secondhand store Johanna had shown her. Gram rifled through the dress rack in the petite section, piling dresses into her arms. Not one dress had a price tag under $5,000. Most were between $7,000 and $15,000. The owner of the store spotted Gram and came quickly to take the selected dresses and set Gram up in a dressing room.
She chose a red brocade dress with a fitted bodice and a pleated A-line ball skirt whose hem swept the floor. The dress had a matching long-sleeved bolero jacket.
“At ninety-five, I don’t really like those sleeveless gowns that are so popular. And I think this bolero jacket makes me look taller. Don’t you?”
Anne stared down at the tiny dynamo of a woman. “Gram, I don’t think you need to look taller. You’re intimidating enough already.”
The saleslady offered to bring out shoes, but Gram turned up her nose. “Your shoes hurt my feet. I have to get my shoes special-ordered for them to be comfortable.”
Anne moved to follow Gram to the checkout counter.
“Now find a dress for my friend here,” said Gram. “What size are you, dear?”
She whispered to Gram, “I usually get my stuff from the secondhand store. It’s just as nice, and I don’t mind that someone else has worn it before.”
“Humph! Today, you’re getting a dress from this store. Unless there isn’t anything here you like.”
“Gram, I can’t spend $5,000 on a dress.”
“No problem, dear. This is my treat. The short ones cost less, anyway. I plan to put you in a cocktail dress.”
She started to object again, but Gram fixed her with her piercing blue eyes, so much like Steven’s. “Don’t pretend you don’t know how much money I have. I want to buy you a dress. I can afford it, and it’ll make me happy.”
“Okay,” she agreed meekly.
“Alphonzo!” she called. “I want something special!”
“Yes, Mrs. Gherring! I have just the right thing for your friend. She will look stupendous!”
Anne was soon encased in a black dress with a sheer sequin-embellished silk yolk and long sleeves. The sheer silk continued downward, supporting a bustier paneled bodice, so the sides and back of the dress were also sheer. The formfitting jacquard skirt fell to her knees.
“Stunning!” declared Alphonzo, as the salesladies exclaimed.
“I don’t know. An awful lot of this material is kind of see-through.” Anne crossed her arms over her chest.
“There’s nothing hanging out that shouldn’t be,” declared Gram.
“Only because I don’t really have much to hang out.”
“We’ll take it,” said Gram. “And she’ll take a pair of your uncomfortable shoes.”
Anne entered the lobby and strode toward the elevator, wrestling with her new dress and shoes. Before the doors closed, Steven somehow materialized beside her.
“New dress? For tonight I assume?”
“Yes.” Anne refused to meet his gaze.
“Did you have a good time with Henri last night?”
“Yes, I did. And did you have a good time with Ellen?”
“Yes.”
They rode for a few moments in silence. Then he moved in front of her, forcing her to look at him. “I just want to know something… When Henri kissed you…” His sky-blue eyes penetrated her with an intensity that burned into her soul. “When he kissed you, did it affect you like this?”
He reached out to take her face between his hands, capturing her lips with his. With her hands still gripping the dress hanger and shoe bag, she was powerless to stop him. Not that she wanted to. Somehow both forceful and gentle at the same time, his lips claimed hers, and she relished the feeling. For a moment, she forgot all about her responsibilities and obligations and the fact that she ought not to be kissing Steven Gherring. All her good sense must’ve gone down the drain, along with her loyalty and integrity. But in that moment, there were no decisions to be made. There was only Steven Gherring and the kiss that rocked her world.
As the bell rang and the elevator came to a stop, Anne jerked away.
I can’t believe I did that!
Shaking her head to clear it, she pressed a hand against her racing heart. “Why did you kiss me? What about Ellen?”
Her respect for him dropped a few notches. He’d put her in a compromising position. For all practical purposes, she’d just betrayed her friendship with Ellen.
“You’ve obviously made your choice.” He gestured toward the open door, a scowl on his face. “Go. Have fun with your Frenchman.”
Still stunned, she stumbled off the elevator with her clothes. Before the doors closed, she heard him say, “I don’t dislike Henri anymore—I hate him.”
Sitting on her couch, lost in confusion, her phone interrupted her reverie.
“Hi Johanna,” she said without enthusiasm.
“What is wrong, dear? You don’t sound like yourself?”
“Nothing really. I just… nothing makes sense anymore.”
“Does this have anything to do with Henri and the Christmas party tonight?”
“Maybe. We broke up last night. So I’m not going with him.”
“You’re going with Mr. Gherring?”
“He’s going with Ellen.”
“He told you that?” Johanna made a tsk-tsk sound. “I believe Mr. Gherring is toying with you.”
“He’s definitely playing some kind of game I don’t understand. He kissed me again. Today, on the elevator. He kissed me, even though he’s dating Ellen. I feel like I cheated with him!”
“I think we must teach Mr. Gherring a lesson.”
“I don’t know. I’m not good at playing games. And I don’t want to mess up his relationship with Ellen. I’m not that sort of person.”
“I understand, dear, but he needs to learn he can’t play with women’s emotions. Ellen woul
d want him to learn this lesson, right?”
“I guess so. But I’m not very good at this sort of thing.”
“It will be easy. Do you have a sexy dress?”
Anne chuckled. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Wonderful! Now you need to do as exactly as I tell you…”
Anne was concentrating on steeling her nerves. She barely heard Gram chatting on the way to the party. She’d managed to delay their departure so she could make a grand entrance. That’s what Johanna had said—to make a grand entrance. But she wouldn’t look very grand if she were shaking like a leaf.
She went over the plan in her head. She had to find someone to flirt with, since Henri wouldn’t be there. Johanna said Steven wouldn’t learn his lesson if she stood on the side, alone like a forlorn rejected potted plant. She wasn’t sure how, but she definitely had to avoid looking like a potted plant.
Approaching the door, Gram said, “Let me go in first, dear. I want to make a grand entrance.”
Anne thought maybe she should watch to see how it was done. But then someone might see her. No, she’d just have to wing it. She waited for what seemed like an hour, but was actually only about two minutes.
Her spiked heels were four inches high. She hoped she’d acquired some grace during her time in New York City or this grand entrance might be a magnificent fall.
She stood inside the doorway and surveyed the crowd, as Johanna had directed her. “You are a princess, surveying your kingdom,” Johanna had said. “Find your mark! Any handsome man without an escort.”
Wouldn’t you know the first person she saw was Steven. She quickly shifted her gaze, but panic had already set in, making her head swim. Not a good thing, when combined with four-inch heels in an already-clumsy package.
She rested her hand on the doorframe to keep her balance. Maybe she should turn around and escape before she made a fool of herself.
