Fine Things

by Danielle Steel

  She was grinning at him and she looked even younger than her twenty-seven years. “You're nuts. Do you know that? You're crazy.” But she knew the same things. She was wild about him. “I can't marry you after three weeks. What are people going to say? What will your mother say?” She said the magic words and he groaned, but he still looked happier than he ever had in his life.

  “Listen, as long as your name is not Rachel Nussbaum and your mother's maiden name wasn't Greenberg or Schwartz, she's going to have a nervous breakdown anyway, so what difference does it make?”

  “It'll make a big difference to her if you tell her you met me three weeks ago.”

  She walked back to where he stood, and he pulled her back down on the couch next to him and took her hands in his. “I'm in love with you, Elizabeth O'Reilly, and I don't care if you're related to the Pope and I met you yesterday. Life is too short to waste time playing games. I never have and I never will. Let's not waste what we've got.” And then he had an idea. “Tell you what. We'll do this properly. We'll get engaged. Today is August first, we'll get married at Christmastime, that's almost five months away. If you can tell me by then that that isn't what you want to do, we'll cancel everything. How does that sound?” He was already thinking of the ring he would buy …five carats …seven …eight…ten …anything she wanted. He put an arm around her shoulders and she was laughing with tears in her eyes.

  “Do you realize you haven't even slept with me yet?”

  “An oversight on my part.” He looked unimpressed, and then looked at her thoughtfully. “As a matter of fact, I meant to discuss that with you. Do you suppose you could find a babysitter one of these days? It's not that I don't love our little girl”—she was already his, too—“I do, but I have this wicked, lewd, lecherous idea that involves your coming up to my place for a few hours …”

  “I'll see what I can arrange.” She was still laughing at him. It was the craziest thing that had ever happened to her. But he was such a good man, and she knew he would be wonderful to her and Jane for the rest of their lives, but much more important, she knew she was in love with him. It was just so damn difficult to explain that she had fallen in love with him and knew it was right in just three weeks. She couldn't wait to tell Tracy, her best friend at school, a substitute teacher, who was due back from a cruise. She left Liz a lonely woman and when she came back she would find Liz engaged to the general manager of Wolffs. It was absolutely nuts. “All right, all right, I'll get a baby-sitter.” He was pressing her.

  “Does this mean we're engaged?” He was beaming and so was she.

  “I guess it does.” She still couldn't believe what they'd done, and he was squinting now, trying to figure something out.

  “How about having the wedding on December twenty-ninth? That's a Saturday.” He already knew that from plans they'd made at the store. “That way we'll have Christmas with Jane, and we can go to Hawaii or something for our honeymoon.” Liz was completely bowled over by him and as she laughed he leaned over and kissed her and suddenly it all made sense to both of them. It was a dream come true, a perfect match … a match made over a banana split with Jane watching over them, like a guardian angel.

  Bernie leaned over and kissed Liz, and she could feel his heart pounding as he held her close to him. And they both knew with absolute certainty, this was forever.

  Chapter 7

  It took her two days to find a babysitter, and she announced it to Bernie over the phone that afternoon, and blushed when she mentioned it. She knew exactly what he had in mind, and it was embarrassing to be so unspontaneous about it. But with Jane in the only bedroom she had, there wasn't much else they could do. The woman was coming at seven o'clock and was willing to stay until one.

  “It's a bit like Cinderella, but it'll do,” she said with a smile.

  “That's all right. Don't worry about it.” He had a fifty-dollar bill just begging to fall into the woman's hands when Liz went to kiss Jane good night. “Wear something a little dressy tonight.”

  “Like a garter belt?” She was as nervous as a bride, and he laughed at what she said.

  “Sounds great. But wear a dress over it. Let's have dinner out.”

  She was surprised. She had visions of going to his apartment straight from hers, and getting the “first time” over with. It seemed almost like a surgical procedure to her. First times were so awkward anyway, and the idea of going to dinner instead appealed to her enormously.

  And when he picked her up that night, they went to L'Etoile, where he had reserved a table for two, and she began to relax as they talked the way they always did. He told her what was happening in the store, about the plans they'd made for the fall, the promotions, the fashion shows. The opera show had come and gone and been a great success and the others were under way now. She was fascinated by what he did, and even more so because he was so much a businessman. He simply applied the principles of good economics to whatever he touched in the store, that and his extraordinary sense for upcoming trends, and everything he touched turned to gold, as Paul Berman said. And lately, Bernie didn't even mind having been sent to San Francisco to open the store. The way he figured it, he had one more year in California at best, and that would give them time to get married and spend a few months alone, before they went back to New York and Liz would have to deal with his mother at close range. They might even have a baby on the way by then …and he had to think of schools for Jane …but he didn't tell all that to Liz. He had warned her that they were going back to New York eventually, but he didn't want to worry her with the details of the move yet. It was a year away after all, and they had their wedding to think of first.

  “Are you going to wear a real wedding dress?” He loved the thought of it, and had seen one in a show at the store only two days before that would have been fabulous on her, but she blushed at the thought as she smiled at him.

  “You really mean it, don't you?”

  He nodded, holding her hand under the table as they sat side by side on the banquette. He loved the feel of her leg next to his, and she had worn a pretty white silk dress that showed off her tan, and her hair was swept up in a bun high on her head. He noticed that she had worn nail polish, which was unusual for her, and he was glad, but he didn't tell her why as he leaned over and kissed her gently on the neck. “Yes, I do mean it. I don't know …somehow one knows when one is doing the right thing, and when one isn't. I've always known, and the only mistakes I've made have been when I didn't trust my instincts. I've never gone wrong when I have.” She understood him perfectly, but it seemed amazing to move into marriage so quickly, and yet she knew they weren't wrong, and she suspected that she'd never regret it. “I hope one day you feel as sure as I do right now, Liz.” His eyes were gentle on hers, and her heart went out to him as they sat side by side. He loved the feel of her thigh next to his, and it thrilled him to his very core as he thought of lying next to her, but it was too soon to think about that now. He had the whole evening planned to perfection.

  “You know, the crazy thing is that I do feel sure. … I just don't know yet how I'll explain it to anyone.”

  “I think real life happens this way, Liz. You always hear about people who live together for ten years, and then one of them meets someone else and they get married in five days …because the first relationship was never really right, but in the twinkling of an eye that person knew the second relationship was.”

  “I know, I've often thought of things like that. I just never thought it would happen to me.” She smiled at him, and they ate duck and salad and souffle, and then they moved into the bar, where he ordered champagne, and they sat listening to the piano and chatting as they had for weeks now, sharing opinions and ideas and hopes and dreams. It was the most beautiful evening she had had in a long, long time, and being with him made up for everything bad that had ever happened to her, her parents' death, the nightmare with Chandler Scott, and the long lonely years alone since Jane's birth, with no one to help her out or be ther
e for her. And suddenly none of it mattered now that she was with him. It was as though all her life had been in preparation for this man who was so good to her now, and absolutely nothing else mattered.

  After their champagne, when he had paid the check, they walked slowly upstairs hand in hand, and she was about to stroll outside when he directed her through the hotel instead, guiding her gently by the arm, but she didn't think anything of it, until he walked her to the elevators and looked down at her with a small, boyish smile, barely concealed by his beard.

  “Want to come upstairs for a drink?” She knew what he was up to, and that he didn't live there, but it seemed romantic somehow, and a little mischievous at the same time. He had whispered the words to her and she answered him with a smile.

  “As long as you promise not to tell my mother.” It was only ten o'clock and she knew they still had three hours.

  The elevator rose to the top floor, and Liz followed him to a door directly across the hall without saying a word. He took a key from his pocket and let her inside. It was the most beautiful suite she had ever seen, in a movie or real life, or ever even dreamed of. Everything was white and gold, and done in delicate silks, with fine antiques everywhere, and a chandelier which sparkled over them. The lights were dim, and there were candles burning on a table with a platter of cheese and fruit, and a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver bucket.

  Liz looked over at him with a smile, bereft of words at first. He did everything with such style, and he was always so thoughtful. “You're amazing, Mr. Fine … do you know that?”

  “I thought if this was going to be our honeymoon, we ought to do it right.” And he had. One couldn't possibly have done it better. The lights were dim in the other room as well. He had rented the suite himself at lunchtime, and he had come upstairs before picking her up to make sure that everything looked right. He had the maid open the bed for them, and there was a beautiful pink peignoir laid out, trimmed in marabou with pink satin slippers to match, and a pink satin nightgown. She discovered it as she walked into the other room, and she gave a little gasp as she saw the beautiful things laid out on the bed, as though they were waiting for a movie star, and not just little old Liz O'Reilly from Chicago.

  She said as much to him and he took her in his arms. “Is that who you are? Little old Liz O'Reilly from Chicago? Well, what do you know …and pretty soon you'll be little old Liz Fine from San Francisco.” He kissed her hungrily, and his kisses were answered as he laid her gently on the bed and pushed the peignoir aside. It was the first chance they had had to sate their hunger for each other, and three weeks of desire swept over them like a tidal wave as their clothes melted into a heap on the floor, covered by the pink satin peignoir trimmed in marabou, as their bodies intertwined and her mouth covered every inch of his body. She made every dream he'd ever had come true, and he dazzled her with the heights of passion they reached as they gasped for each other, wanting more and more and more until they lay spent at last, sleepy-eyed, in the dim room, her head on his shoulder, as he played with the long blond hair that hung over her like a satin curtain.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen … do you know that?”

  “You're a beautiful man, Bernie Fine …inside and out.” Her voice was suddenly husky, and she looked into his eyes lovingly and then suddenly burst out laughing when she saw what he had left under her pillow. It was a black lace garter belt with a red rosette and she held it aloft now like a trophy, and then kissed him and they began all over again once she put it on for him. It was the most beautiful night either of them had ever spent, and it was long after one o'clock when they sat in the bathtub in the hotel, and he played with her nipples amidst the soap suds.

  “We're never going to get out of here if you start that again.” She smiled sleepily, leaning her head against the luxurious pink marble. She had wanted to call the sitter to tell her they would be late, but Bernie had finally told her he had taken care of it, and Liz had actually blushed when he told her. “You paid her off?” She giggled at the thought.

  “I did.” He looked pleased and Liz kissed him.

  “I love you so much, Bernie Fine.” He smiled and more than ever he wanted to spend the night with her, but he knew they couldn't, and he was already sorry that he had suggested they get married after Christmas. He couldn't imagine waiting that long, but thinking of it reminded him of the one thing he had forgotten.

  “Where are you going?” She looked up in surprise as he climbed out of the tub with soap all over him.

  “I'll be right back.” She watched him go. He had a powerful body with broad shoulders and long, graceful legs. It was a body that appealed to her, and she could feel desire gnawing at the pit of her stomach as she watched him, and she lay back in the tub with her eyes closed, waiting for him to return again. He was back only a moment later, and he slid a hand down low over her stomach as he slid back into the water, and before he had a chance to give her what he had brought from the other room, his fingers traveled to where her legs joined and he was exploring her again, his mouth hungry on her lips as, with his other hand, he touched her. They made love this time in the tub, and the sounds of their lovemaking echoed in the pink marble bathroom.

  “Shh,” she whispered afterwards, giggling. “They're going to throw us out of here.”

  “Either that or sell tickets.” He hadn't felt this good in years and he didn't want it to end. Ever. He had never known another woman like her. And neither of them had made love to anyone in a long, long time, so their hunger was well spent on each other. “By the way, I brought you something before you attacked me.”

  “I attacked you …ha!” But she glanced over her shoulder in the direction he was looking. Being with him was like celebrating Christmas every day and she wondered what he was going to surprise her with now …peignoirs …and garter belts and …He had left a shoe box on the side of the tub, and when she opened it, there was a pair of gaudy gold slippers inside with large rhinestones all over them. She laughed, not sure if he was serious or not. “Are these hand-me-downs from Cinderella?” They were actually very tacky and she wasn't quite sure why he had given them to her, but he was looking amused as he watched her. They had huge cube-shaped hunks of glass glued on all over them, and one of them even had a huge rhinestone dangling from the gold bow. “My God!” she gasped, suddenly realizing what he had done. “My God!” She stood straight up in the tub and stared down at him. “Bernie …No! You can't do this!” But he had, and she had seen it. He had carefully pinned a huge diamond engagement ring to one of the gaudy gold bows, and at first it just appeared to be one more ghastly rhinestone like the others. But she had seen the ring, and she was crying as she held the slipper, and he stood up quietly and unpinned it for her. Her hands were shaking too badly, and there were tears pouring down her cheeks as he slipped it on her finger. It was more than eight carats, a simple emerald-cut stone, and the most beautiful ring he had ever seen when he bought it. “Oh, Bernie …” She clung to him as they stood in the bathroom, and he stroked her hair and kissed her, and after he had gently washed the soap off her, and himself, he carried her to the bed in the other room, and made love to her again …this time more gently …slowly … it was like singing in a whisper … or doing a slow delicate dance, moving gracefully together until they could no more, and then he held her close to him as she shuddered with delight and he rose to his own heights beside her.

  It was five o'clock in the morning when she got home that night, looking neat and clean, and as though she had been at a teacher's meeting all night. It would have been difficult to believe what she'd been doing. And she apologized profusely to the babysitter for coming home so late, but the woman said she didn't mind, and they both knew why. She'd been asleep for hours anyway, and she closed the door quietly when she left, as Liz sat alone in her living room, looking out at the summer fog, thinking with infinite tenderness of the man she was going to marry, and of how lucky she was to have found him. The huge dia
mond sparkled on her hand, as tears shimmered in her eyes, and she called him as soon as she got into her bed and they spoke in hushed, romantic whispers for another hour. She couldn't bear to be without him.

  Chapter 8

  After the trip to Tahoe with Jane, where they all slept in separate bedrooms, and Liz had mentioned several times how great it would be if they could be together all the time, Bernie insisted that she pick out a dress from the store for the opening of the opera. They would be sitting in a box, and it was the most important event of the San Francisco social season. He knew she didn't have anything dressy enough of her own, and he wanted her to pick out something spectacular for the opening.

  “You might as well start taking advantage of the store now, sweetheart. There have to be some advantages to working seven days a week.” Although nothing was free, he always enjoyed an enormous discount. And for the first time he enjoyed using it on her.

  She went to the store, and after trying on dozens of dresses, she selected one from an Italian designer he loved, a dress which hung in rich velvet folds, in a cognac-colored velvet, encrusted with gold beads and little stones all of which appeared to be semiprecious. At first Liz thought it far too elaborate and wondered if it looked too much like the outlandish slippers he had given her with her engagement ring, but the moment she put it on she realized how magnificent it was. It was cut in a style reminiscent of the Renaissance, with a generous decollete and big full sleeves, and a long sweeping skirt with a small train she could hook to her finger. As she moved around the large fitting room in the designer salon, she felt like a queen, and she giggled as she preened, and then suddenly she was startled as she saw the fitting room door open and heard a familiar voice behind her.