"That's fantastic," she said truthfully. "Thank you. I can use the time. The meal preparation isn't much, but it's all the little things, like setting the table, and especially making the drinks, opening the wine, that sort of thing, that can eat up a lot of time. Now I can leave that for you."
"Great. Consider yourself with an extra pair of hands as soon as I get there. You clear out now, and I'll see you in a little while."
"Thanks very much."
"I'm only sorry I didn't think of it before.
"Still, it is very thoughtful, Quentin. I do appreciate it." She blew him a quick, playful kiss, which earned her a beaming smile. Grabbing her bag, she was out the door before he could say another word, or reach for her to grab a quick kiss in earnest.
Suzanna knew that the subway would be quicker than a cab this time of day. She made good time getting home and changed right into a T-shirt and a well-tailored pair of trousers. She remembered to keep a voluminous smock top handy to slip over the tee shirt before Quentin arrived. Her ordinary clothes would reveal all if she wasn't careful.
Suzy had shopped for the food the day before. She knew that Imperial put out a really good oil and vinegar salad dressing, and so had planned a special celeriac and field salad favorite of her German grandmother. She patronized a little green-grocer she'd found over on Second Avenue. It was the only place she knew of that carried unusual vegetables.
The celery knobs had been cooked the night before and were marinating in Imperial dressing in her fridge.
Her dessert was a refrigerator cake made of Imperial lady fingers, chocolate snaps and whipped cream she had made two days before. It, too, was ready to serve.
She continued preparations by chopping a large onion and a quarter pound of bacon and putting it in a heavy skillet to cook slowly. While it cooked, she set the table with her best family heirlooms, crystal, silver, and linen.
Suzanna's apartment was unusual for New York in that it had a proper separate dining room. It had been her grandmother's, and she had owned the building and taken the pick of the apartments for herself. When the old lady had died, everything had been left to Suzanna, a fact that was known to only her closest friends.
The apartment itself was large, bright and airy. The sturdy dining room furniture was oak with burgundy plush seats. There was a huge china cabinet. Through the crown glass could be seen priceless egg-shell china, majolica, cut glass, crystal, Spode, and Wedgewood. She knew they were worth a small fortune.
But to Suzanna, they were grandma's things. She loved every delicate piece, but just as she treasured them, she delighted in using them. There was no point in letting them become "dust collectors" as her gran had said.
She decided on a white linen cloth and napkins, her Wedgewood, and grandma's heavy silver flatware, Tiffany's shell and thread dating to nineteen-ten. Crystal water goblets and Pilsner beer glasses came next.
The final touch was a pair of silver candle holders with pumpkin-colored candles and a centerpiece of autumn flowers.
Satisfied with the effect, she returned to the kitchen. The bacon and onion were about done, and she was lining up the rest of the ingredients, Spudz, applesauce, milk, butter and seasonings, when the bell rang.
She went to turn on the intercom, and when she heard the cheerful sound of Quentin's voice announcing himself, she said, "Hi! Come on up. I'm on the fourth floor. Four-A."
She pressed the buzzer to release the lock and rushed to put on her flowing smock. After a glance through the peep-hole, she opened the door to his knock and invited him in.
The small foyer, like the rest of the apartment, was carpeted in off-white with a deep pile. Opposite the door was a console table and beveled mirror.
The table held a pair of brass lamps with parchment shades and a silver card tray which Suzanna used for mail. Two ladder-backed chairs with brocade seats flanked the table. There was also a brass rack where Quentin hung his coat.
Quentin gave her a quick, friendly kiss in greeting, then said, "Okay. I'm at your service. Where do I start?"
"Come on," she said. "I'll take you to my bar."
They had to pass through the living room, where the first thing he noticed was her piano.
"You play?" he asked.
"Yes, a little," she answered modestly.
He seemed impressed. "You're certainly full of surprises. You never told me."
"Actually, the subject never came up, and it's not the kind of information you volunteer. I never thought it would interest anyone."
"You're wrong. I find it very interesting. Not many people play an instrument these days."
"I suppose not. It's easier to turn on the radio or CD or iPod, and the music's better."
"We'll find out about that later. You will play for us, won't you?"
"If you really want me to, of course."
He looked around the rest of the room. One wall was floor to ceiling bookshelves with Suzy's favorite books, as well as many with fine Morocco bindings, also inherited.
The chairs were green and gold brocade, overstuffed and comfortable looking. The coffee and end tables were polished walnut. On them were plants and a few exquisite pieces of porcelain and bisque. The atmosphere was one of subdued elegance.
"Your apartment is surprising too. Yet now that I think about it, it is like you. Calm and serene. It reflects your personality perfectly."
"Thank you. I'm glad you like it. Now, come to the kitchen and get to work."
It was a purely functional kitchen, large, with a table and four chairs and lots of counter space. Gleaming brass, and copper-bottomed pans abounded. It was a real cook's kitchen.
Suzanna pointed the way to the liquor cabinet and cocktail shaker, and Quentin busied himself with the drinks. He decided on vodka martinis, on the rocks or up, with olives or twists.
It was five when Suzanna cut up the knackwurst, bloodwurst and braunschweiger, and sauteed them in the skillet of bacon and onions.
While it was all browning, she prepared six cups of Spudz, and when she was finished, she removed the wursts from the pan and set them to one side. She stirred the bacon and onions into the hot applesauce, then added the Spudz, whipping them in with a wire whisk. She transferred them to a large casserole, put the wursts on top, covered it and put the whole thing into a moderate oven to keep hot.
Next she added the field salad to the celery knobs and poured the spicy tomato juice appetizer.
The bell rang again a short time later. This time it was Elsa Marshall. Suzy felt a pang of envy when her friend came in from the cold, cheeks pink, eyes sparkling and her brunette good looks set off by the rust-colored wool dress she wore, which clung to every curve.
There was no mistaking the look of admiration in Quentin's eyes as he greeted her. She regretted once more the necessity of keeping up her disguise.
She left Elsa and Quentin to become acquainted while she dressed for dinner. She went to her room where she donned a loose trouser suit, and tied a matching scarf around her tumbling locks. A touch of coral lipgloss was all she allowed herself despite her envy of the pert Elsa.
Then she returned to the kitchen to bake the salt sticks, Quik-Bix shaped into crescents, then rolled in coarse salt and caraway seeds. She twisted a second tube into long spirals, and then rolled them in poppy and sesame seeds. She rolled a third tube up, brushed it lightly with garlic butter, then coated them with parmesan and rosemary.
This done, she joined Elsa and Quentin, who were sipping martinis and talking. Quentin poured Suzy one, and complimented her on her attractive outfit. To her surprise and relief he seemed sincere in his admiration.
It was six when the doorbell sounded again, announcing the arrival of the last guests, Cyrus and Martha Reed, and Barry Jarvis.
Suzanna ushered them in and introduced them to Elsa. She could hardly fail to miss the way Barry's eyes lit up when he saw her heart-shaped face, pert nose and tumble of short, brown curls. Nor did she miss the widening of Elsa's brown eyes when Bar
ry walked in. Perfect.
The newcomers were soon settled with a cocktail apiece, and exclaimed in admiration over Suzanna's apartment. Martha Reed had driven down from Tuxedo and met Cyrus and Barry at Imperial Foods. She talked about her journey, and seemed a warm and unpretentious woman.
Suzy had brought in a few dishes of salted nuts, but didn't want them to spoil their appetites for dinner. She popped into the kitchen to put the rolls in the oven, and flitted back out again to enjoy the company.
Promptly at six-thirty she got up to serve. Elsa went with her to help, while Quentin filled the water tumblers and brought in the drinks. He also carried in the heavy casserole and filled the beer glasses, while Suzanna brought in the salads and the hot salt sticks. She was impressed with how handy he was in the house, and thrilled she could find him sexy, but not drop stuff everywhere. She always felt all thumbs in the office whenever he was around, but somehow, here in her apartment, it felt perfect.
When all were seated with Mr. and Mrs. Reed at the head of the table, Suzanna asked Cyrus to say grace. She had guessed that they were quite traditional people, and when she saw their pleased expressions, she knew she'd created just the right impression.
Not that that had been the goal; she had always been taught to be thankful for what she had, and what better than a family type gathering to remind everyone of the fact.
If Quentin was surprised, he did not show it, merely joined hands and bowed his head with the others. Then they were all digging in enthusiastically.
While they were eating their salads, Quentin started to pass the "heaven and earth." The food was consumed with great enjoyment, with all asking for seconds. The salt sticks were exclaimed over, as was the salad.
Cyrus recognized the Quik-Bix, the dressing, and of course the Spudz main course. He was delighted with everything they ate.
Martha Reed eagerly wrote down the whole menu with a list of ingredients while they ate, and Barry and Quentin did nothing but praise her cooking and her cleverness.
When the dessert arrived and they all realized that it was made with two of the most standard Imperial Food products, they were overcome.
Barry said, "I sure am glad I spoke up and wangled an invitation to a German dinner. I never expected such a feast."
Cyrus nodded. "Wow, they're my own products, and I never knew they could be so good."
"More dessert, anyone?"
"I'd sure love it, but Martha would kill me."
"I tell you what, I'll parcel you up some leftovers."
Martha and Cyrus both said, "It's a deal," at the same time, and then everyone laughed good-naturedly.
They finally pushed themselves away from the table and went back to the living room. Suzanna let Quentin carry in the heavy coffee tray. While he was helping her serve it he said, "Suzanna, how about playing something for us?"
"Of course, if you'd like."
Everyone echoed his request.
"Since we've just had a German meal, I'll play a few German songs."
She played "Zweig Herten," "Itch Liege Ditch," and "Lorelei," then went into some old standards for everyone to sing along, from county and western to the blues.
Elsa's soprano and Suzy's contralto blended well, and when they harmonized the sound was exquisite. Suzy called for requests and played them all.
Afterwards, they sat and talked quietly for a while. The company was so contented and well-matched, that the evening ended all too soon.
They all started to take their leave at about the same time. Barry offered to see Elsa home, and she accepted gratefully.
Suzy was glad to see that Quentin did not seem in the least put out by Barry having monopolized Elsa for most of the evening.
Martha and Cyrus were next to leave, thanking Suzanna effusively for her wonderful if unusual hospitality.
Then she and Quentin were alone.
"Right, I had better get started on the cleaning up, madam hostess."
"Oh no, it is late enough, and I'm sure you have other things to do."
"Nonsense, you are not getting rid of me that easily. It was a wonderful night, and it isn't over yet."
Her heart beat faster at the prospect of being alone with him, but she was pleased at his words and how thoughtful he was being.
Suzanna was also glad he was staying for a more practical reason. There was no feeling more lonely than cleaning up all by oneself after a party.
He busily scraped and rinsed plates, loaded the dishwasher, put the leftovers in the fridge, and got the linens into the washing machine. At last everything was restored to order, and they sat down next to each other on the sofa to empty the martini pitcher.
"Waste not, want not, as they say!" Quentin said as he poured.
As they relaxed, Quentin smiled and looked at her with undisguised admiration. "Suzy, I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You are a marvel. You have more talent than any one girl is entitled to. I loved the food, your voice, your playing. You're so creative, it makes my head spin.
"And what puts me into a complete whirl is the way you kiss. But before I begin to think too much about that, and start something I refuse to finish, I'm going to say goodnight."
He got to his feet and started toward the door.
Suzy followed him, and said quietly, "Thank you for all the help you gave me tonight, Quentin. I couldn't have managed without you."
"Suzy, you are a liar, even if you are good for my ego. You could probably have done it all with one hand tied behind your back."
He had put his coat on and was standing at the door. "But if you'd really like to thank me, give me one of your soul-shattering kisses, then push me out the door."
"With pleasure," she said as she stepped into his arms. "All except the last part, that is."
She stepped into his waiting arms. His mouth claimed hers as once more their lips parted to admit one another's softly seeking tongues.
Before things could get out of hand, he put her from him gently, opened the door and left, saying softly, "Goodnight, my little mystery woman. I'll see you on Monday."
"Goodnight, Quentin."
Fortunately, he never heard the "darling" that she whispered under her breath.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next morning, Suzanna was awakened by the ringing of her phone. Predictably, it was Elsa.
"Suzanna, I had the most marvelous time last night. I haven't ever seen two such gorgeous hunks except in the movies."
"I'm glad you like my taste. Barry must have approved of my taste in girlfriends too."
"He's something special. You don't have any designs on him, do you, Suzy?"
"You know better than that. He's a really fine person, though. He took me to lunch once, but it was business. Romantically speaking, I only have eyes for Quentin."
"That's a relief. Barry took my phone number. I hope he's planning to use it and wasn't just trying to make me feel good."
"He'd be out of his mind not to call you. Or haven't you looked in the mirror lately?"
"Yeah, but if he could see you with your hair down and your clothes off, I wouldn't stand a chance."
"Nonsense! Anyway, that won't happen. The only one I want to see me without clothes is Quentin."
"Suzy! You should hear yourself! Talk about a leopard changing its spots!"
She laughed and reclined on the bed languidly. "I know. I can't believe it myself."
"Not that it's worth anything, but I saw Quentin watching you a few times, like when you were playing piano, and I think the feeling is mutual. Besides, all he did was rave about you and your outstanding work as his assistant the whole time you were getting dressed."
"I hope you're right. Here's wishing both of us luck. Let me know if you hear from Barry. He's interesting to talk to and a successful business man besides. He's also a gentleman. He treated me as royally as if I'd been a beauty queen the one time we did go out."
"I'd better hang up. Just my luck to have him call me and I'm not available. I d
on't want to run the risk of it going to voice mail."
"Whoa, don't be too eager either, honey."
"True. Anyway, got to run. Thanks again for a wonderful evening. The food was fabulous. I think I gained five pounds."
"Glad you liked it. The best part was that it was so easy that I had a great time at my own party. Afterwards, Quentin stayed to help with the cleanup."
Campaign for Love Page 9