Bliss, Inc. (Indigo Love Spectrum)

by Chamein Canton

Matthew looked pleased. “It would be my pleasure. When do you need it?”

  “School’s closed the rest of the week, so would Monday be too soon?”

  “Not at all. Consider it done.”

  “Thanks, Mr. S.” He paused. “So do you have anything planned while we’re off?”

  “Not really. I’m going to lunch with my folks tomorrow, but that’s about it.”

  “Sounds cool.”

  “It’s okay.” He slung his bag over his shoulder and turned out the lights. “We’d better get going before they lock us in.”

  As Matthew walked out into the freezing cold, he was grateful that his brownstone was only a few blocks away from the school. Reaching it, he unlocked the door.

  “Wow. It’s cold outside!” He shivered. He took his gloves off and knocked on the first-floor apartment door. “Mrs. Hall?”

  “Who is it?” she called.

  “It’s me, Matthew. I just wanted to see if you were warm enough.”

  He chuckled as he listened to her unlocking the six different locks she had on the door.

  The door opened and there stood eighty-two-year-old Edna Hall with her silver hair. There was barely a line on her face. “Hi, sugar. It’s plenty warm enough to me.”

  “Good. I guess the boiler is working the way it should now.”

  “It certainly is. Do you want to come in for tea?”

  “I’d love that but I have some work to catch up on since I’m going to lunch with my parents and my brother’s future in-laws tomorrow.”

  “That sounds nice.”

  “Yeah. As long as they’re not trying to set me up again, it should be fine.”

  “I can’t say I blame them. You’re a good-looking young man. You should have a nice young lady to keep company with.”

  “I don’t disagree with that. I just want to meet her on my own, that’s all.” He paused. “Well, I’d better get started on this work if I want to make it to lunch tomorrow. Have a good evening, Mrs. Hall.”

  “Thank you.” She closed her door. Matthew waited for her to lock the door again. Although he’d put a state-of-the-art security system in the building, he knew Mrs. Hall found a level of comfort from hearing the click of the locks.

  The newest homeowner on the block, Matthew had dipped into his trust fund to buy outright the building located in Harlem’s famous Strivers Row. He hadn’t counted on having a tenant, but he’d inherited Mrs. Hall and didn’t want to put her out of the home she’d lived in with her late husband. So he occupied only the top two rather spacious floors, which gave him more than enough room. As for decorating the place, it wasn’t high on his to-do list. As long as he had a couple of chairs, a dresser, a bed, and a television, what more could a bachelor ask for?

  Just as he hung his coat up the phone rang. “Hello?”

  “Hey, how is the newest lord of the manor?” Larry Richards was one of Matthew’s oldest friends. A childhood buddy, he was always good for a laugh and some sound advice every now and then.

  “Not bad, buddy. How are you?”

  “I’m tired. I have to tell you, days like this I wonder why I got into gynecology and obstetrics. There are only two seasons: screwing season and the results of screwing season.”

  “I feel for you, buddy, but would you rather be working for your dad?”

  “Point taken. So have you decided who’s going to help you christen all those rooms?” Larry was married, so he lived vicariously through his single friends.

  “No, and I don’t plan to.”

  “What about Claudia Hitchens? I thought you two clicked. God knows her blood is blue enough for your parents.”

  “She’s great on paper.”

  “Listen, I’m not saying you have to marry her, just have a little fun together. What’s the harm in that?”

  “You can’t be serious. You know that’s not possible with society girls, especially the ones over twenty-five. They will have picked out a ring, the china service, and their bridesmaids all before you have a chance to roll over. Isn’t that what happened to you?”

  “You got me there, buddy. Helen did swoop down on me.” He paused. “What about that woman from the other night? Did you ever figure out who she was?”

  “No, and I wish I knew where to start. She was incredible. It was a one night stand but…”

  “You feel like there could be more if you had her name.”

  “True. She was my sexy caramel queen.” He closed his eyes in memory.

  “Matt!” Larry spoke louder. “Are you still there, buddy?”

  “Sorry. I got lost in thought.”

  “A week plus ago and this girl is still on your mind?”

  “I know. It’s so weird. I’ve never felt like this before. The sex was so hot, intense and emotional. I get bothered just thinking about it.”

  Larry’s pager beeped. “God, I would love to hear more but it looks like I have another patient in labor.”

  “Those are the breaks when you’re an obstetrician.”

  “Tell me about it. What I wouldn’t give for a scheduled procedure like a tubal ligation or even a hysterectomy.”

  “You’re a real prince, Dr. Richards,” Matthew laughed. “Seriously, you have to stop by for a beer sometime soon. Imported or domestic?”

  “As long as it’s cold and I’m not on call I really don’t care.”

  “You’re still a cheap date.”

  “Hey, man, I wear it with pride.”

  They hung up. Matthew took a good look around his place. It could really use a woman’s touch. “Too bad that’s easier said than done,” he thought out loud.

  * * *

  With no appointments on her schedule Paige decided to forego a little extra sleep time to make up a shopping list. With an ultra-lean, mean, fat-burning machine in the house she went to the market almost every other day. She was still on her first cup of coffee when, much to her surprise, her perennially late son waltzed into the kitchen ahead of time.

  A shocked Paige put her mug down. “Who are you and what have you done with my son?”

  Max dropped his backpack on the floor. “Good morning, Mom.”

  “Good morning.”

  Even though Paige was used to seeing him scarf down huge quantities of food, it still never ceased to amaze her. She watched as he poured the contents of the last two boxes of cereal into a pasta bowl. Maybe I should add a trough from the farm store to the list, she thought.

  “I think we need more cereal, Mom.”

  “I know. I put it on the list along with milk. So what brings you down here so early today?”

  “I have a DECA meeting this morning.”

  “So it’s nothing I have to worry about?”

  “No, Mom.”

  “I know you’re a senior and all but there will be no hanging out or chauffeuring your buddies all over creation. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, Mom. Even if I wanted to drive everywhere I don’t have that much gas.”

  “Is that your backhanded way of asking me for gas money?”

  “Yes,” he answered cautiously.

  Paige reached for her handbag. She gave him twenty dollars.

  “Thanks, Mom.” He kissed her on the cheek.

  “You’re welcome. Have a good day.”

  Paige listened as he pulled out of the driveway. Then the phone rang.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  Another voice was on the phone. “Hello? Who is this? Are you calling to confirm my spa appointment?”

  Spa appointment, my behind. It’s a Botox session. Paige snickered quietly.

  In the years since their divorce Joshua and Paige remained amicable. The only fly in the ointment was Tara, the second Mrs. Baldwin. Tara fit the bill of the typical trophy wife; thin, blonde, and looks good draped over the arm of a senior partner. She’s the envy of all the partners’ wives, though they would never give her an inch. When she and Joshua got married Max was eleven years old, and while she didn’t mind him at the ceremony she
wanted the reception to be an adults-only affair. Ultimately Max attended the reception but it foreshadowed the relationship, or lack thereof, she would have with her stepson. Like the partners’ wives at the firm, being Mrs. Senior Partner was a full-time occupation for Tara; being a stepmother didn’t rate a blip on her radar, so Paige still reserved the right to kick her butt.

  “Good morning, Tara, it’s Paige,” she said politely. “Someone called me.”

  Finally Joshua spoke up. “Tara, honey, I called Paige. You must have picked up before I could say hello.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I saw the light blinking and I thought I had a call.”

  “That’s okay, baby.”

  Hello? You called me, remember? Paige thought rolling her eyes.

  Tara hung up.

  “Sorry about that, Paige. Is Max there?”

  “No, you just missed him. He always has his cell on, give him a call.”

  “I wanted to take him this weekend. Does that work for you?”

  “It’s fine with me. You’d better check with him, though. He packs a lot of activities into the weekends these days.”

  “Duly noted.”

  “Is Tara okay with him hanging around your place?”

  “Sure. Why wouldn’t she be?” Josh, who was nicknamed Jaws by opposing counsel, tended to be all gums when it came to Tara.

  Paige looked at the calendar. “Oh, she’s heading off for the annual spa retreat, isn’t she?”

  Joshua cleared his throat. “As a matter of fact, she is. How did you know?”

  “I used to be married to you, Joshua. They had the spa retreat then, too.”

  “You never went.”

  Paige shuddered. “The idea of bonding with those vultures in a whirlpool wasn’t my cup of tea. You know they eat their young.”

  “Well, you know Tara.”

  “Indeed I do. Well, I have to head out to the store and put your support payment to good use at the supermarket sometime before dinner. You’d better tell Liv to stock the fridge this weekend.” She looked at the clock. “I’ve got to run.”

  “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Liv was Joshua’s Southern housekeeper and cook. A native of Memphis, she was also the only reason Paige could be assured Max would get a good home-cooked meal at his Dad’s place. Reed-thin Tara had her meals delivered weekly so she could keep her shape.

  Just as Paige started to leave the kitchen, the phone rang again.

  “Hello?” She managed to sound composed.

  “Yes, good morning. May I speak with Ms. Baldwin, please?”

  “This is she. How may I help you?”

  “This is Samantha Brillstein, Mr. Klein’s personal secretary.”

  Paige’s heart filled with excitement. “Yes, Ms. Brillstein, so nice to hear from you.”

  “I called to see if you’d be available to see the Kleins today.”

  “Absolutely. What time?”

  “At 10:45.”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  Paige jotted down the address.

  “All right then, we shall see you at 10:45.”

  “I will definitely be there, and thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  With no one there to see her, Paige hung up and then did her little happy dance. Her shot at the big time had arrived; there wasn’t a moment to spare. She left a message on Stuart and Adriana’s voice mail to let them know she wouldn’t be in before running upstairs to change into her slate grey suit. Ten minutes later with her Bliss portfolio in hand Paige managed to catch the last express train into Manhattan.

  * * *

  Still a little groggy, Matthew felt a weight on his feet. He lifted his head to see Prudence, Mrs. Hall’s tabby cat, curled up on his feet and quite content. “Well, good morning, Prudence.” The cat stretched and climbed within reach of Matthew’s hands, purring all the way. “I guess you’re the closest I’ve come to having a female in bed. That’s if cats count, and something tells me they don’t.” He stroked the cat’s back.

  Although he’d gotten some extra snooze time it was 8:30 and he had to head downtown to his parents’ place. He reluctantly got out of bed, made coffee, and flipped the television on to catch up on the overnight news.

  “They run stories about Paris Hilton when there is so much happening in Darfur. It just blows my mind,” he told Prudence. He shut the television off in disgust.

  After he showered, shaved, and brushed his teeth, Matthew got dressed in his best preppy clothes for lunch with his brother’s future in-laws, the Kleins. Matthew liked Jennifer. Jennifer was unapologetically curvy. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, even if it meant putting her foot in her mouth or alienation from the young WASPY goddesses that surrounded her. However, what he liked most was how good she made his brother Michael feel.

  Matthew finished his last sip of coffee. Seeing the time he picked Prudence up and took her downstairs. Mrs. Hall chided her little kitty, “I was looking for you, Ms. Prudence. You’re such a bad little kitty cat.” She shook her finger. “She found her way to your place again, didn’t she?”

  “Oh yes, and we had breakfast together.”

  “She’s taken a fancy to you, Matthew.”

  “I wish I could find a woman who shared the same sentiment.”

  “Don’t you worry about it. Your day is coming soon.”

  “From your lips, Mrs. Hall. I’ll see you later. Have a good day.”

  “You, too, darling.”

  Matt did a quick check for his MetroCard and hurried down the street to the subway station.

  CHAPTER 4

  Paige arrived at Penn Plaza a little after ten o’clock. A few more butterflies fluttered about in her stomach as she approached the security desk.

  “Good morning. Paige Baldwin to see Samantha Brillstein of Klein’s Textiles.” She showed him her license.

  The security guard looked at her identification. “Just a moment.” While he made a phone call Paige watched intrepid New Yorkers brave the piercing cold wind outside.

  He put the phone down and placed a sign-in sheet in front of her. “Okay. If you would just sign in here, you can take the first elevator to the sixteenth floor. It’s the third office on the right.” He handed her a visitor pass.

  Paige signed the sheet, then clipped the pass on her lapel. “Thank you.”

  Alone in the elevator, she took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. Once the door opened it was showtime.

  When she entered the office Paige was surprised to see how sparsely decorated it was. Most of the offices in the plaza were either homages to Art Deco or plastered with modern art lithographs.

  “Good morning, Paige Baldwin here to see Ms. Brillstein. I’m a little early.”

  “Sure. I’ll let her know you’re here. They’re expecting you.”

  “Thank you.” She took a seat. They? Who am I meeting? she wondered.

  A woman who looked to be in her mid to late fifties with bobbed brown hair and Sylvia Weinstock glasses emerged from the back. Paige noted how well her Jones New York suit draped her body. “Ms. Baldwin? I’m Samantha Brillstein.” Her hand extended, Paige stood up and shook her hand.

  “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Brillstein.”

  “Likewise.” She looked down at her watch. “I see you’re a little early, but we like that.”

  Paige smiled and followed her down the hall.

  The back office was in complete contrast to the reception area. It was richly decorated and accented with rich cherry wood trim. The mahogany desk was polished to perfection.

  “Please have a seat. They will be with you momentarily.”

  “Thank you.”

  Am I meeting the Kleins?

  She stood up when she heard the door open behind her. “Good morning, Ms. Baldwin.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Klein.”

  The photos Paige had seen of Hiram Klein in the business section didn’t do him justice. A tall, slender man with wavy brown hair, he was much
more distinguished in person. “Please have a seat, Ms. Baldwin. May I call you Paige?”

  “Please do.”

  Just then a stylish, meticulously groomed woman entered the room. It was obvious that she watched her figure, which was revealed by her formfitting Chanel suit.

  “This is my wife Isabelle. Sweetheart, this is Paige Baldwin.”

  They shook hands. “Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Baldwin.”

  “Likewise. Please call me Paige.”

  “All right then, Paige.” She smiled as she took a seat next to her husband.

  “Now that we have the introductions out of the way, we’ll get to the reason we asked you to come.” Hiram leaned back in his chair. “As you know, our daughter is getting married. We’ve received literally hundreds of proposals, but yours was one of the few that stood out.”

  Paige was pleasantly surprised. “Thank you, Mr. Klein. May I ask what exactly stood out?”

  ”Your references went back more than six years and every reference gave you glowing recommendations and praise. That made quite an impression on us.”

  “I love weddings, Mr. Klein, and I don’t think the relationship between the couple and the planner should end with the wedding.”

  “You keep in touch after the wedding?” Mrs. Klein asked.

  “I know it sounds a bit unorthodox, but we have a bulletin board with baby photos, new homes, and such from past clients. We even send anniversary cards every year.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Klein smiled at each other as married people do.

  “I brought my portfolio for you to look at if you’d like.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  Paige’s stomach fell.

  “We think you’re the best choice for the job, if you are still interested.”

  In a daze, Paige sat straight up. “I would love to plan this wedding.”

  Mr. Klein clapped. “Fantastic. We have a copy of your contract. Did you bring any originals with you?”

  Earlier Paige had thought it would be presumptuous to bring contracts with her, but in the end she had chosen to go with the power of positive thinking. She opened her briefcase to hand him three copies.

  “She’s prepared, Hiram. I know how you like that in a woman,” Mrs. Klein chuckled.

  “Well, she may not be practicing anymore, but she is a lawyer.”