by Jaime Maddox
“Reservation for Ryan.”
“Last name?” he asked.
“Yes.”
He looked up, confused. “Can I have the last name?”
“Ryan.”
Ella bit her tongue as she watched Reese having fun with the young man. Obviously, she was used to this sort of confusion. The hazard of having a first name for a last name, she supposed.
“Oh, yes. I see it. Right this way, please,” he said, and took them a few feet to a coat closet, then into a twenty-by-forty-foot room with paneled walls and ceilings. The room was arranged as Ella would have expected a Parisian salon would have been a hundred years earlier. It had art on the walls, books on shelves, a woven rug on the floor, and club chairs arranged in groupings all around the room. Most of the chairs surrounded small tables, and she imagined it would be difficult to gather a group for dinner, but it was perfect for a party of two. A dozen parties of two were already seated as their host escorted them to a table near a large fireplace.
Before he could offer, Reese pulled out a chair for Ella and then pushed it toward the table. “I’m good,” she said to him, and he politely retreated.
“Thank you,” Ella said as Reese pulled her own chair out and sat.
“This is a cool place,” Ella observed.
“During the week, they serve only breakfast and lunch. Friday and Saturday nights they add dinner. People come during the day to talk and read, and drink coffee and eat cheese. You might find some PMU students here during the day. It’s a good place to go when you skip class.”
“I’ll avoid it, then.”
Reese chuckled. “Not that I’d know.”
“I’d imagine it’s unwise to skip class when you’re trying to get into medical school.”
“Everyone needs a break once in a while.”
Ella looked at Reese as she relaxed in the oversized chair. Her dark hair was perfectly straight, parted in the middle, and pushed back behind her ears. A black sweater contrasted with her bright eyes, and Ella sensed she was quite relaxed. That wasn’t always the case, she knew. Her job had to be crazy, and she seemed to make a second career out of worrying about her parents and her sister. “What do you do now when you need a break?”
“What makes you think I need a break?”
“Everyone needs a break once in a while.”
“Touché!”
Their server appeared, then took their drink orders and poured water, leaving menus in her wake. Ella studied hers for a minute before looking up at Reese.
“You obviously know this place well. What do you recommend?”
“Do you like cheese?”
Ella moaned.
“Then we should have cheese. Baked brie in a pastry, with fruit. Apples, I’d guess, since it’s fall. Or a plate of assorted cheeses with a baguette. The entries are Americanized French but still superb. And save room for dessert.”
“I’d like to try the brie.” Ella leaned forward conspiratorially. “But I’ll take home one of those cheese plates from the lobby.”
This time Reese moaned. “I’m coming to visit. I’ll bring the bread.”
“Don’t forget the wine.”
“Speaking of wine,” Reese said as the waiter appeared with a tray and set glasses before each of them.
“To new friends,” Reese said, raising her glass.
“Indeed,” Ella said as their glasses clinked.
Ella sat back and took a sip of the wine, closing her eyes as it warmed her mouth and then her throat. She savored the smell and the taste, and sighed before opening her eyes to find Reese staring at her.
“That was erotic,” Reese said.
Fortunately, Ella didn’t have any wine in her mouth, because if she had, she would have spit it out as she laughed. “I just like wine. What can I say?”
“Obviously.”
“What is also obvious is that you’re very good at deflecting questions.”
“Me? I think you’re the queen of deflecting. Obviously.”
“I guess we’re both a bit private, then.”
Reese sipped her wine, studying Ella with a friendly gaze. “So, relaxing, you asked. Hmm. I read, or watch movies. Go out for dinner.” She spread her hand before her.
“The company of friends is always nice,” Ella said, as she realized how much she missed a simple pleasure like this one.
“Something tells me you don’t do it often enough.”
“Guilty. I tend to work a lot.”
“It’s paid off, though. Right? You have a great job, and you’re very successful, I’d imagine, if they made you VP.”
“I am successful, yes. And I tell myself it’s important, but sitting here with you, next to this warm fire, with this magnificent wine…it suddenly seems quite unimportant.”
“And you haven’t even tasted the brie yet.”
Ella laughed. “What do you like to read?”
“Everything.”
“I like her, too. Her last novel was spectacular.”
Reese ignored the tease, but the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile. “Mystery, suspense. That sort of thing. I try to figure out the plots to prove how smart I am.”
“No predictable romance novels for you, huh?”
Reese shook her head.
“And is that what you like to watch, too?”
“I’ll tolerate anything for five minutes. I can usually tell by then if I’ll like a movie. I make sure to see everything that’s up for an award, and I follow some actors and actresses. Whenever they release something new, I’ll see that at the movies. And then, I’ll go back in time and watch something ancient in black and white.”
“Who are these must-see actors?” Ella asked just as the waiter returned to take their order.
“Oh, I’m sorry. We haven’t even looked at the menu. But let’s start with the brie,” she said, looking to Reese for approval.
“Sounds perfect.”
“Maybe we should study our menus instead of gabbing.”
“Good idea.”
Ella looked over the selections and decided on tuna, to balance all the fat and calories in the cheese. Reese didn’t seem to be counting, as she ordered Beef Wellington.
They settled back in with the wine and talked about their favorite actors and actresses, then dove into the cheese when it came. It was mild and creamy, and with the baked apple atop, it was heavenly.
“So, I think it’s time I got to the real purpose of our dinner,” Ella said.
Reese licked cheese off her finger in a most seductive manner and then sat back, swirling her wineglass as she looked at Ella.
“So, it’s not just the pleasure of my company that brought you out tonight?”
Ella shook her head.
“And not just my shirt, either, huh?”
“I’m afraid not. You made a wager at the golf tournament, and you lost. It’s time to pay up.”
“I was hoping you’d forgotten,” Reese said as she hid behind her glass.
“No such luck. I met with Jeremy yesterday, and we made tremendous progress. He gave me a list of speakers who he thought would be appropriate to honor the senator, so that’s a big first step. There’s a lot to do, though, Ms. Committee Member.”
“Who’s going to speak?”
“He wants his old priest, his high school debate-team moderator, his college advisor, the governor, and you.”
“Me?”
“It’s typical to include a classmate, especially one like you, who’s stayed in touch.”
Reese cleared her throat. “As you know, I’ve never been to one of these things before. How does it work?”
“PMU always announces its scholarships and awards on the day before graduation, at the end of May. Memorial Day Weekend. It’s a huge event. Everyone who gives a scholarship is there, as are all the current recipients—the incoming freshmen and the graduating seniors, and everyone in between. It’s called the Cognitio Brunch. We gather in the great hall to recognize the donors, the
benefactors, and then the winner of the alumni award.”
“That’s when I come in?”
“Exactly. So the program will start with me welcoming everyone, and I’ll introduce you. You’ll give your speech, then introduce the next speaker, and so on. We try to encourage everyone to focus on something different, so you don’t have five people up there saying the same thing. From a friend perspective, you can add something special. Something no one else can, really. The university president will wrap it up and introduce the senator.”
“Can I mention the time I knocked his front teeth out?”
“Absolutely. And how it helped build his character. Then you’ll say something like there are a few people here who’d like to say nice things about him, so let’s get this show on the road.”
“Sounds easy. Why are you so worried?”
“We have to decide on the menu, the décor, the theme. Send invitational letters and confirmational letters. This is only eight months away. People book their schedules years in advance, Reese.”
“True. I have plans well into the next decade. It was fortunate I could squeeze you in tonight for dinner.”
Ella gave her a chastising look. “Anyway. We have to order flowers, linens, pick songs for the orchestra.”
“Orchestra?”
“Well, you didn’t think we’d have a DJ over brunch, did you?”
Reese sipped her wine and used a piece of bread to scoop up the last bit of cheese. She offered it to Ella.
“No, thanks.”
“I guess a DJ wouldn’t be quite right.” Reese looked at Ella and saw a fire in her eyes. “You love this, don’t you? All the planning and organizing.”
“Oh, yes. I get to throw huge parties on the university’s dime.”
“Is this on the university’s dime, too? I mean, since this is a business meeting and all.” She waved her glass of wine again, and Ella sucked in a breath as she wondered just how good Dr. Ryan was with her hands.
She cleared her throat. “Of course.”
“Damn. If I’d had known, I would have ordered the lobster pot pie instead of the beef.”
“You can have an extra glass of wine to make up for it. I’m driving, after all.”
Reese seemed to have a full glass of wine, even though she kept taking sips. Ella wondered how she did that. Her glass, on the other hand, was nearly empty. And she was the driver.
“I think I will, thanks. Just so you know, I’ll pay my debt. I’ll help out with Josh’s celebration.”
“I had no doubt.”
The waiter arrived with their food, and Ella dug into the perfectly seasoned fish over a bed of greens. It was so good she didn’t even envy Reese’s red meat. Not until Reese started moaning.
“This is incredible,” she said, then offered a forkful to Ella. “Would you like to try it?”
Instead of taking the fork, Ella leaned forward and allowed Reese to feed her. “Mmm. You’re right. That’s good.”
Looking pleased, Reese leaned back and took another sip of her bottomless glass of wine. “My mom tells me you’re leaving town.”
“Yes, for a few days. Eight, to be exact.”
“Where are you heading?”
“Connecticut, Rhode Island, and Massachusetts.”
“What will you do?”
“Visit with alumni, attend a few parties, meet with current donors and potential new ones. I’ll basically have meetings for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, every day.”
“How much weight will you gain?”
Ella half-smiled. “It’s really tricky to pretend to eat while you push things around your plate. But I couldn’t possibly eat all those meals without putting on weight. Even if I run on the treadmill in the gym between meetings, I’d still get fat.”
“Do you like to run?”
“No. I detest it. But it does burn calories.”
“That it does. In the interest of weight-watching, shall we skip dessert?”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“Oh, thank God! I was worried I was going to have to take something home and devour it on the floor inside the front door.”
“No worries. I’ll probably eat something here and get something to go, too.”
Reese winked. “You’re my kind of girl.”
Ella met her gaze, and a smile formed slowly, ending in a seductive half grin.
When the waiter returned with the dessert menu, Ella sighed. “This is so unfair, making me choose.”
“Let’s each choose one, and we’ll share.”
“Can I choose both?”
They decided on honey crepes and chocolate mousse to enjoy with coffee, and Napoleons and chouquettes to go.
“I think I know what I’ll say,” Reese said after a moment of silence.
“Hmm?” Ella asked, looking confused.
“About Josh. Senator Nathan.”
“Oh. What will you say?”
“That he helped me through the worst time of my life—when Stephanie Gates died. She was my best friend. And probably just as close to Josh. We were all on student council together, for four years. We became very close. Just before she died, we traveled to Washington together, had an absolutely great time. It was us and five other boys. A great group. Doug—the realtor. Bucky, who’s running for DA. Scoop Timlin, who’s a gynecologist. Paul Pearl, who’s a businessman downtown. And Rudy Simmons, who’s a computer guy. That trip sort of cemented us. You know what I mean? We’ve all been friends ever since. Being away from home, meeting politicians, representing our school…we were growing up, and it was great.”
“That’s a nice story.”
“That’s not the story.”
“Oh. What’s the story?”
While Reese was nervous about the investigation and didn’t typically like to talk about Steph, with Ella it was different. Ella made it seem safe, and in a way, Reese felt like she was finally going to put Steph to rest.
“Josh’s mom had cancer, and he went with her to Philly for a bone-marrow transplant. He was the donor. He was there when Steph died, and his mom was so sick he couldn’t leave, but he called me every day, like ten times a day, in the days when long distance wasn’t free—and the Nathans didn’t have much money. The truth is, I think he was grieving more than I was. I always suspected he had a secret crush on Steph, but she…I don’t think she ever saw him as any more than a friend.”
“Tough situation.”
“Well, if it bothered him, he never let on. When she died, he reminded me about Washington, how we’d all talked about our future. He didn’t say we’d finished a chapter. He said we’d finished a book and were about to start a new one. He said his was dedicated to Steph, and whenever he achieved something in his life, he would think of her and how much she’d helped him become the person he was. And he said the same thing about me. She’s always with me. The people we love never really leave us.”
Ella wiped a tear from her eye. “I didn’t even know the woman she became, but I feel the same way. I’d always felt I’d find her again, and we’d be instant friends, just like when we were kids.”
“Knowing her, you probably would have been.”
“Well, it’s a good story. He sounds like a good person.”
Reese nodded. “For a lawyer.”
Ella laughed and tilted the conversation back to Steph. She knew what Sophie had told her, but there was often a huge gap between the truth and what a teenage girl confided in her mother. “So, Steph wasn’t dating anyone when she died, huh?”
Reese seemed to pale at the question, and Ella wondered why. Quickly recovering, she answered in much the same fashion as Sophie. “She dated every guy on the student council and half the swim team, but she never got serious with anyone.”
“Why is that?”
“She was driven. She had goals, and nothing was going to stop her.”
Ella thought about the irony of Reese’s words but didn’t comment. Someone had permanently stopped Steph. Was Sophie right?
Was the murderer someone Steph knew, possibly from the student council? The thought was sobering as she sipped her wine. She didn’t yet know Doug, the realtor, or two of the others, but she’d met Josh Nathan, and she’d been acquainted with Bucky and Scoop from childhood. None of them seemed capable of murder. But if Sophie was right, one of them, or someone just like them, had murdered Steph.
Ella decided a change of topic was in order. “So, this place has been around since you were a student, huh?”
Reese began to tell stories from her days at PMU, and Ella shared as well. The mood quickly became light, and Ella was grateful. They were still laughing about their collegiate antics when their plates arrived. “It looks almost too good to eat. Almost.”
The childish delight on Ella’s face warmed Reese. If only everyone was as happy with a bit of sugar and whipped cream. When the last bite was gone, they leaned back in their seats. Reese had never seen a woman as lovely as Ella looked at that moment, with her hair loose across her shoulders, flowing honey, and her brown eyes puddles of melted chocolate.
“Can you walk, or should I call an ambulance?” Reese asked.
“I can walk. Maybe.”
As promised, Ella charged the dinner to her corporate card.
“Thanks for that. I didn’t expect you to pay.”
“Don’t mention it. You really are a business associate.”
Ella retrieved her coat and handed Reese hers as well, but she was too busy sliding into it to notice how much her comment stung Reese. Was that how Ella regarded this? Was all the flirting and friendly chatter just business to Ella? Because if it was, Reese would have a hard time adjusting to that. Not when she’d been humming at the thought of spending time together.
Reese was quiet on the way to the car, distracted by Ella’s words and her own confused emotions. Not the kind to worry needlessly, or brood, she grabbed Ella’s arm as they reached the car, stopping her progress.
Shaking her head, she searched Ella’s eyes, lit only by the scarce dregs seeping through the windows. “I don’t want to be a business associate, Ella.”
Ella stood still and returned the stare, then quietly stepped closer, invading Reese’s space. The air had chilled, but Reese could feel the warmth of Ella’s body from a foot away, and she was absolutely sizzling by the time Ella touched her, bringing her fingers to Reese’s lips before sliding them along her jaw, and her throat, before replacing them with her lips.