“I really appreciate this, Matthew. I’m sorry if it sounded stupid, but she’s amazing and every time I see her I get all tongue-tied.”
“Just go for it, Alistair, and don’t worry about anyone else.”
The elevator doors opened. “I will. Thanks a lot, Matthew. By the way, what’s your fiancée’s name?”
“Paige.”
“Please give her my best, too.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to run to a meeting, but maybe we can grab a beer sometime.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Matthew was genuinely surprised by Alistair. He was the last guy he would ever suspect would be interested in an African American woman. Most of the Ivy League guys who dated black women did so far from the prying eyes of their parents, and they never would bring them home to meet the folks. Matthew felt it was a sign that maybe his mother’s concerns didn’t have any merit, at least that’s what he hoped.
Mr. Smythe, Michael, and Matthew decided on Smith & Wollensky’s for lunch. The place was brimming with suits enjoying a little lunch with their four plus martinis. After the waiter took their order the three gentlemen were free to converse for a while.
“So how’s business, Dad?”
“Not too bad, Matthew. We’re having some issues with the FCC about the content for a live event we’re broadcasting, but that’s nothing new.”
Michael sipped his water. “Who ever thought that a mere glance at an areola on television for less the two seconds would cause such a ripple effect?”
“It’s too bad cable can’t broadcast traditional sports programs.”
“Bite your tongue, Matthew,” Michael said.
“I forgot that was blasphemy,” Matthew said, covering his mouth.
Mr. Smythe laughed. “So, son, how is your fiancée?”
“She’s good, Dad.” Matthew smiled.
“Look at the grin on your face. Could it get any wider?” Michael teased.
“Leave him alone, Michael. He’s in love. Not to mention I seem to remember another young man who couldn’t get the grin off his face.”
“Okay, Dad. You’ve got me there.”
“Speaking of guys with big grins, you’ll never guess who I ran into.”
“I’ll bite. Who?” Michael asked.
“Alistair Cromwell.”
“Alistair. Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Mr. Smythe said.
“I think he works for some investment bank in our building. So what’s old Mr. Stick-up-his-butt up to these days?”
“Well for one thing, he’s divorced, and I’m pretty sure Selena got the stick in the divorce settlement.”
Mr. Smythe laughed. “You certainly know how to paint a picture, Matthew.”
“I didn’t know they got divorced. Is this a recent event?”
“I think so. But you will never guess what he asked me.”
“What?” Michael was intrigued.
“He asked me for advice on dating black women. Apparently he’s interested in a black woman that lives in his building.”
Both men were silent.
“That’s the truth,” Matthew said before he sipped his water.
“Wow. Alistair Cromwell is the last guy I’d expect to be so open to an interracial relationship. He’s honestly about as white as you can get,” Michael said.
“Times have changed,” Mr. Smythe added.
“Not according to Mom,” Matthew answered.
“Now, son, you know she didn’t mean any harm. She just wants you to know what you’re in for. Not everyone is as open-minded as we are.”
“I know, Dad, but it’s the twenty-first century, we should be over this race stuff by now.”
“I don’t disagree with you, but it’s just not the case.”
“Listen, Matt, I’ve gone through some changes with Jennifer being Jewish.”
“Yeah, but it isn’t the same thing.”
“As far as this circle is concerned it’s exactly the same thing.”
“Well, as your father I’m proud to have sons that are willing to take on the establishment.” Mr. Smythe raised his glass.
“Take on the establishment, Dad?” Michael chuckled. “That’s so 1960s.”
“Yes, but it still applies.”
Matthew finished his water. “You know, I want something a little stronger than this. Where’s the waiter?” he asked as he scanned the dining room.
“I don’t see him. You’re probably better off going to the bar yourself.” Michael said.
Matthew got up. “Do you want anything, Dad?”
“No. I’m still on the clock.”
“What about you, Mike?”
“Same here, but you can get me a Coke.”
“Okay.”
Matthew walked up to the bar and ordered Jack Daniel’s straight up and a Coke.
“I guess the Smythes are trying to start their own rainbow coalition,” a man snickered.
Matthew looked around the bar to see if he could find the culprit. The bartender handed him the drinks.
“I’m all for the darker the berry the sweeter the juice, but you don’t plant the berry bush in your front yard.”
Matthew spotted the offender. The only thing that protruded more than his overbite was the middle-aged potbelly that hung over the top of his pants. Matthew laughed to himself. What a slob. He wishes he could get a woman like Paige, and he doesn’t have a shot in hell of getting the time of day from any woman. He’s not worth my time, Matthew thought as he went back to the table.
When Matthew got back the entrees were on the table and there was a slice taken from the porterhouse he ordered.
He put Michael’s soda on the table before he sat down. “Wait a second. Who carved a slice from my steak?”
Mr. Smythe chuckled while Michael pretended to look away.
Matthew sat down. “Mike?”
“Why is it always me?”
“Experience.”
“I have my own steak.”
“Which begs the question why do you have to eat whatever I have?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it tastes better coming from your plate.”
“Next time you can get your own Coke. I can’t leave my food for one second with you around.”
“Okay, boys, let’s settle down.”
“He started it,” Michael joked.
“Thank you, Dad,” Matthew said as he sipped his drink.
“What are you thanking me for?” Mr. Smythe looked puzzled.
“I’m thanking you and Mom for not having any more kids after Mike. I don’t think I could have taken it.”
“Hey,” Michael protested.
“Boys will be boys.” Mr. Smythe smiled.
CHAPTER 27
Labor Day weekend seemed to arrive too fast since Paige was dreading having the society set’s version of an obstacle course. Matthew took the scenic route to Greenwich; the trip went smoothly and Paige got to indulge her love of architecture as they passed large estates on their way to the Connecticut Country Club.
The club itself had been built in 1889 in the midst of a pristine setting of immaculately maintained oak and spruce trees as far as the eye could see. The golf course was a PGA course, a fact that made the members proud. As Paige and Matthew drove onto the property, she noticed everyone was dressed in polo shirts and Bermuda shorts with odd prints. It looked like the society version of What Not To Wear.
Matthew turned to Paige. “Are you ready, baby?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
Matthew parked. The valet was barely able to hide his surprise as he opened Paige’s door.
“Good morning,” he managed.
“Good morning to you,” she said as he helped her out of the car.
Matthew popped the trunk for the golf valet, who then took out the golf bag.
“Good morning. Here’s the keys. If possible can you make sure we’re not blocked in, please?” Matthew slipped the valet a tip.
“Will do, sir.”<
br />
Matthew came around and took Paige’s hand in his. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why did you ask him to make sure we’re not blocked in? Are you worried I won’t last that long?”
“No, I know I won’t last that long. I’m sure you can handle yourself.”
She smiled. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
The Smythes walked over. “Hello, Paige.” Mrs. Smythe kissed Paige on the cheek.
“Hello, Mrs. Smythe. How are you today?”
“I’m very good. Please call me Margaret. Once you and Matthew get married you can call me Mom.”
“Thank you, Margaret.”
Matthew hugged his mother while his father greeted Paige.
“Hello, Paige. I’m so glad you could make it.”
“Thanks, Mr. Smythe.”
“Listen, you can call me Douglas. There’s no need for formality.”
“Thank you, Douglas.” She paused. “May I say both you and Margaret look great.”
“She’s right, Dad.”
Douglas put his arm around Paige. “Good thing you proposed, son. She’s a keeper.”
Paige smiled.
“How about you come with me while I make my rounds and I’ll introduce you to everyone.”
“Okay.”
Douglas whisked Paige away to meet and greet. She met people with names synonymous with old money, as well as retired federal judges and state senators. The men were genuinely pleased to make Paige’s acquaintance, while the women seemed to reserve their judgment.
Paige was relieved and delighted to see Jennifer and her family walk in. Jennifer hurried over to hug Paige.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” she whispered.
“Thanks, I was going to say the same thing,” Paige said.
It was a little weird to see Hiram Klein in Bermuda shorts, but he’d apparently figured that when in Rome…
“How are you, Paige? You look wonderful.”
“Thank you, Mr. Klein.”
“I managed to find a color that didn’t make me look like I nap in a coffin,” he joked.
“Hiram!” Isabelle shot him a look.
“It’s the truth.” He shrugged his shoulders.
“My goodness, we just can’t take you anywhere.” She kissed Paige. “Good to see you, Paige.”
“Same here.”
Michael hugged Paige. “Hey, sis, so you came to see my future father-in-law and me win this thing, right?”
Matthew cleared his throat. “What makes you so sure of that? Dad and I are going to lead the pack.”
“Would you care to make a wager?”
Margaret stepped in. “Listen, boys. I know it’s been a while since you’ve been here but they look down on betting, no matter how friendly it may be.”
“I guess she told us,” Matthew said.
An announcement said that the tournament was beginning.
“Dad, what’s our tee time?” Matthew asked.
“We’re teeing off second, followed by your brother and Hiram.”
“So how are you doing, Paige? You look fantastic,” Michael said.
“I’m very good. How are you? The wedding will be here before you know it.”
“I know. My mother loves the dress Siobhan designed for her. She hasn’t stopped raving about it.”
“Are you talking about Paige’s sister?” Margaret asked.
“Yes,” Michael answered.
“Oh, she’s a genius. I love what she’s come up with for me. She is quite the innovator.”
“She’s always been good at that. Even as a little girl she never made the standard doll clothes. Her dolls always looked chic.”
The women laughed.
“It looks like they’re beginning. I hope you have your walking shoes on, girls,” Margaret said.
Jennifer and Paige hung back a bit.
“Has anyone said anything to you?” Jennifer asked.
“Not a peep. I’ve met the men and they seem to be okay but the women are another story.”
“You took away their last great white hope,” she snickered.
Paige started to giggle. “Listen, we have to maintain our composure.”
“You’re right.”
They went outside to watch the men tee off, which began their day of walking for all eighteen holes. Unaware of exactly how the game was played, Paige listened to terms like birdie, bogey, chip shot, bunkers, and par bandied about all day. There was another game afoot, though, and it seemed to be the exclusion game. As long as Paige, Jennifer, and Isabelle were with Margaret, no one treated them badly. However, when Margaret was out of range, the three got the message they were being tolerated and not welcomed.
There came a point on the tenth hole when Margaret motored off in a golf cart to use the ladies’ room. Paige felt the temperature drop but she ignored it.
Jennifer looked uncomfortable and began to wither.
Paige walked over to her. “Don’t let them bother you,” she whispered.
“It’s kind of hard not to.”
“Listen, sweetie, it’s sour grapes and that’s all it is. They’re jealous, and if they can’t have what you’ve got this is their only way to strike back. It’s pitiful.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“You know I’m right. I’d like to enroll the lot of them in etiquette boot camp. They obviously need a refresher course.”
Jennifer stifled her laughter. Then Margaret came back and everyone put their phony faces back on quickly.
By the time they got to the last hole, not only was Paige fluent in golf terminology but she was exhausted. Jennifer was tired, too. It had been a workout.
At the end of the day Matthew and his father took the prize with Michael and Hiram in second. They’d played a tough match and enjoyed the applause of their family and friends.
Matthew walked over to Paige and hugged her. “Hey, baby.”
“Congratulations, sweetheart.” As they embraced she caught sight of a group of women giving her a look.
Matthew noticed the looks and decided to give them something to talk about by giving his love a big kiss.
“You’re too much, honey.”
“The way I figure it, we might as well give the people what they want,” Matthew said impishly.
“So, Hiram, how about we celebrate this family victory in the dining room.”
“Sounds good to me, Douglas.”
“Do you want to get a little something to eat, sweetheart?” Matthew asked.
“Okay, but I have to make a phone call first.”
“You shouldn’t have to work on your day off,” Jennifer said.
“I’m not working. I’m here. Still, there is a wedding today and Deidre is the planner on-site.”
“I see. You want to check to make sure things are okay,” Matthew surmised.
“She’s a little shaky, but so far I don’t have any messages on my phone. I want to check in to confirm there are no problems.”
“Just don’t take too long.”
“I won’t.”
Paige slipped away to make the call.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Deidre. It’s Paige.”
“Hi, Paige. Are you checking up on me?”
“It’s more like I’m checking in with you. There’s a difference.”
“Things are great. Everything started on time and now I’m making sure the guests’ favors are set up in the reception room.”
“Great. It sounds like you have everything under control.”
“I do, and it feels nice.”
Paige smiled. “I know the feeling. I’ll let you get back to it.”
“I’ll see you at the office tomorrow, right?”
“Yes, and I would like you to begin making calls to find a new receptionist.”
“What?”
“You’re a wedding and event planner now. Someone else can answer the phones.”
“I’ll get on it first thing.”
/> “Good. I’ll talk to you later.”
Paige closed her phone and slipped it back into her bag. As she came around the corner she saw a group of three women talking and heard what they were talking about.
“Can you believe he had the nerve to bring her here?” A somewhat round woman with a short brunette bob crossed her arms.
“It was bad enough when the brother brought the Jewish fiancée and her family here. Now we have the other son with a black fiancée. What’s going on?” A tall woman with an almost nonexistent upper lip pursed her mouth so tightly it looked as if she were about to suck her whole face down the drain.
“We have all these lovely girls from good families and what do they do? They go for common, lower-class women,” the brunette huffed.
“They aren’t exactly lower class. The Kleins have more money than all of us combined. And I heard the black woman has a very successful event business.” The third woman looked younger than the other two women.
“So they’re wealthy. They’re still not our kind, and they are fat to boot,” the brunette repeated.
“If that isn’t the pot calling the kettle black I don’t know what is.”
“Margaret. I didn’t see you.” The woman stumbled over her words.
“Obviously. And what kind of people were you referring to, Beatrice?”
Beatrice was stiff as a board.
“Cat got your tongue, Beatrice?”
Beatrice looked flustered. “I didn’t know you were there. We were just talking.”
“Yes, and I heard what you were saying. I can’t tell you how ashamed I am of your behavior. Of all of your behavior. Here we had two lovely, intelligent young women in our midst and you did your best to make them feel like outsiders.”
“We didn’t say anything to them.”
“That’s the point, Pamela. You didn’t show basic manners to even get to know them at all.”
Paige was impressed with Margaret’s forcefulness.
“And for the record, both women come from good families. They’re well educated, and I consider them to be assets to our family.”
The ringleader, Beatrice, looked as if she’d shrunk six inches. “I’m sorry, Margaret. That was rude and unkind of me.”
“I don’t want to hear another bad word said about them. Do you understand?”
Bliss, Inc. (Indigo Love Spectrum) Page 31