“There’s a surprise.”
“I think she’s overreacting.”
“Blackwell? Overreacting? That never would have occurred to me. And by the way, if Tank bails, poor Alex. He’ll have to bear the brunt of five women.”
“He’ll see it as a gift. Knowing him, he’ll eat it up.”
“When do you think we’ll know about Tank’s decision?”
“He might already have agreed. Alex was going to ask him this morning, but I haven’t talked with him yet.”
“Are we cooking Christmas dinner? That would be fun.”
“Let’s just say that Blackwell is cooking it.”
“Oh, no she isn’t.”
“Oh, yes she is. Her daughters pretty much challenged her to do it.”
“They did?”
“Let’s just say that they have their issues. But Blackwell wants to prove them wrong. She wants to prove to them that she is capable of making a proper holiday dinner from scratch. She’s never done it before, and she told me that it’s important to show them that she has it in her.”
“That’s a lot of work for one person, even an experienced cook. She could fail big time.”
“That’s what I thought. I suggested that you and I could help, but she’s determined to do it herself. I respect what she’s trying to do, but you know she could end up overwhelmed. Remember the planning? Our mothers used to make the pies the night before, then they’d focus on the meal the next day. I don’t think Blackwell knows what she’s in for, but that woman does have a track record of pulling off the impossible. Knowing her, she’ll read everything she can, and march into that kitchen with an armload of recipes and notes. Can she pull it off? Who knows? We're talking about a woman who eats ice for lunch. Still, I wouldn’t bet against her.”
Lisa hesitated. “I’d hate to see her embarrass herself in front of her daughters. Maybe she’ll let us help a little.”
“We’ll see. She did say that if things got out of hand, she would call on us for help. But we’re talking Blackwell here—I don’t know what it will take for her to pull that trigger. She’s too proud, especially when faced with a challenge. I have a feeling that she’ll lock herself in that kitchen until either the bird—or her bird—is cooked.”
CHAPTER FOUR
When I got off the phone with Lisa, I left my office to see if Alex was in his. I looked over at Ann, who was clicking away on her computer, and said, “Is he in? If he is, I’m sneaking inside.”
“He’s in. And I have a feeling he’d love to see you.”
I went inside and closed the door behind me. Alex was at his desk reading something on his computer. When he saw me, his face brightened, he stood up, and came over to me. I thought he looked dashing in his charcoal gray suit, which he’d paired with the red tie I’d bought him the week before. He kissed me on the neck, then on the lips, and then unexpectedly on the tips of each breast.
“You’re frisky!
“‘Tis the season.”
We kissed for a long moment before I had to pull myself together. One more kiss, one more brush of his stubble against the base of my neck, and he might as well have at me on the sofa.
“Hold on there, cowboy.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re in the middle of a....ohhh, why do you always do that to me....”
He brushed his lips close to my ear, one of the most sensitive parts of my body, and then he kissed me again as he pressed his hand between my legs. “Maybe later?” he said.
“Is that even a question?”
“After last night’s acrobatics, it is.”
“Then you should already know the answer, although the next time we do that? Let’s at least have some stage lighting. If we’re going to be watched, I’d prefer to look my best.”
He smiled at that and squeezed my butt. The moment my nipples responded to that gesture, I pulled away from him. We needed to focus.
“Let’s be good and commiserate,” I said. “If we’re going to pull this off, I have to be able to think clearly, which I can’t do when you do whatever it is that you do to me. It’s impossible.” I pointed at the sofa beside us. “Don’t think I’m above throwing myself down on that.”
“Don’t think I’m above bending you over my desk.”
“Don’t think I’m above lying down on the floor and having you strip off my clothes.”
“Don’t think I’m above ripping them off you before you even have a chance to start.”
I closed my eyes and tried to collect myself. Worthless. “OK, so now I totally want you.”
“Later. Let’s talk first.”
“Oh, so now he puts on the brakes.”
“I believe you suggested that we commiserate?”
“Fine. Blackwell and the girls are a go.”
“Great!”
“But here’s the catch. Daniella and Alexa challenged her to cook Christmas dinner alone.”
“That sounds like them.”
“She said they can be rude.”
“I’ve witnessed my share of that.”
“I’m worried that she might fail.”
Alex sat on the arm of the sofa. “Maybe she’ll surprise us.”
“It could happen. I know she wants to prove them wrong. Lisa and I are prepared to step in and help if she needs it, but I have a feeling that she’ll keep us out. She’s nothing if not determined.”
“Lisa is coming?”
“She is. How about Tank?”
“He’ll be there.”
“Praise Jesus,” I said. “Lisa was worried that he wouldn’t come.”
“What’s up with those two anyway?” he asked. “I thought everything was going well.”
“I don’t know. There’s no question that they like each other and that there’s a mutual attraction, but both have been burned. Getting over that hump can take a lot of faith, as we both know well.”
“Maybe this will do it for them.”
“I hope so. I told Lisa that if Tank did come that they could have the two bedrooms on the first floor. That way, if something should happen between them—and let’s have a moment of silence that something happens between them—they can have their privacy.”
“Makes sense to me.”
“So, it looks as if this is going to happen. What do we do next?”
“I’ll take care of everything. Just a few phone calls, and the house will be ready for everyone.”
“I’ll need to do some shopping. I might steal Blackwell away with me for a day if that’s OK.”
He shrugged. “Fine by me. You’ll also bring Lisa?”
“Absolutely.”
“The three of you out together?” he said. “The city isn’t ready for that hurricane.”
CHAPTER FIVE
The next morning, Blackwell called Lisa and I at ten on the dot. “Come on, ladies,” she said over the speakerphone. “Let’s do this. The stores just opened, and we’ve got some serious damage to do. I’m downstairs parked in front—of course, I am. Where the hell else would I be? The back? Please. Don’t dawdle. I have a fat-melting herbal supplement for Jennifer, vitamins for Lisa, and black coffee for all of us, with shots of espresso in each. We’ll be on fire by the time we get to Saks. Move it!”
We did. When we left our building, we saw one of Wenn’s limousines waiting for us at curbside. It was brisk outside, but not cold. It was probably around forty degrees, with almost no breeze.
Perfect shopping weather, I thought.
“Fancy,” Lisa said when she saw the car.
“Fun,” I agreed.
The driver opened the door for us.
“Thanks, Joe,” I said to him.
“My pleasure, Ms. Kent.”
I winked at him. “Get ready for the whirlwind.”
“I hear one’s coming, ma’am.”
“Jennifer!” Blackwell said.
“Better get inside,” I said. “Otherwise, she’ll have our heads.” I stepped in after Lisa, sat next to
Blackwell and gave her a kiss on the cheek, which she tolerated with a roll of her eyes, while Lisa sat opposite us.
“Your coffees are in your armrests. Here are your herbal supplements, Jennifer. And Lisa—your vitamins. No arguing. Take them.”
We did—and we were off.
* * *
When we arrived at Saks, Blackwell looked at me. “Are you OK to shop here? After what happened? We can always go somewhere else.”
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m actually excited to be back. I haven’t been here since that bitch held a knife to my throat. Life is all about getting back on the horse. I’m ready.”
“That’s the spirit.”
And then Blackwell was on a tear.
“You’ve each got your lists?” she said when we moved out of the car and into the already packed store.
“Got them,” we said in unison.
“Good. Here’s my plan. We all want to buy something for Alex and Tank.”
“And you, Alexa and Daniella,” I said.
“All right. That’s very sweet of you. So, let’s see what we can find for the boys, then we’ll do the girls, then I’m assuming we’re going to want to split up and have our privacy for a while so we can do some additional shopping in private? Yes? Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect,” I said.
“Totally onboard,” Lisa agreed.
“What do you want to get the boys?” Blackwell asked.
“I want to get Alex a watch,” I said.
Lisa looked at me. “I want to get Tank a watch.”
“Perfect choice.”
“I want to get them both cufflinks, but not here,” Blackwell said. “Cartier. We’ll stop by there later. So, let’s go and see what watches they have, then we’ll move on to the girls, and then we’ll have our own private adventures.”
Two hours later, when we left the building, our hands heavy with bags and our bank accounts significantly lighter, Joe was waiting outside for us with the limousine. He put our bags in the trunk, I made sure that he separated them so there could be no mistaking whose was whose, and off we went to Cartier, where Blackwell purchased the most stunning diamond cufflinks for Alex and Tank.
“They’re gorgeous,” Lisa said.
“Of course they are. What else did you expect from me?”
“You have exquisite taste, madam,” the young woman behind the counter said.
“Born with it,” she said. “Runs in the veins which, as you can see, are blue.” She held out her wrist to the woman, who looked down at the veins that snaked along Blackwell’s wrist before she lifted her eyes back to Blackwell.
“So rare,” she said.
Blackwell touched her throat. “And apparently so are you. My dear, I just handed you a side of shit, and you handled it as if it were a rose. Here’s my card,” she said, dipping into her clutch and retrieving one. “Call me if you ever want a job at Wenn.”
“Wenn Enterprises?”
“What other Wenn do you know in this town?”
“Wenn it is. I’ll do that.”
“Please do.” She looked at me and Lisa. “Now, I’ll need to ask each of you to go and sit in the car.” She lifted her head. “I might have some additional shopping to do, and neither of you can be here while I do it. So, you know— go.”
* * *
When Blackwell returned to the car twenty minutes later, she handed Joe her bags, waited for him to open her door, and then she got inside.
“I suppose you two are hungry,” she said.
“I could use a bite to eat,” I said.
“That goes without saying, Jennifer. And you, Lisa? My perfect little size-zero? Can you even bare a nibble, or is that too much right now, which Jennifer should be paying attention to.”
“I’m famished.”
“You size-zeros always are. I’ll never understand it.”
“Lunch would be fun,” she said. “Where to?”
“Jennifer will remember this.” She turned to me. “New York-Presbyterian? The day we had our little chat in the cafeteria? That young man who made us burgers and fries in that sweat shop of a hellhole filled with sickness and woe? Do you remember him?”
“Of course.” I paused to think of his name. “Charlie, right?”
“His name is Charles. No proper chef is ever called Charlie. But, yes, he once went by Charlie. Now, he’s Charles. And that’s him.”
“You were going to send him to culinary school.”
“I made that happen through Wenn, which is one of the many reasons I love Wenn. When I see talent, I’m able to do something about it. Oh, don’t you look at me like that, Jennifer. Don’t you dare give me those damned doe-eyes.”
“Sorry. It was just nice of you.”
“Whatever. That young man had talent, and he deserved a chance. He recently sent me a note saying that when he’s not in school, he’s apprenticing at JoJo, that darling little French restaurant on East Sixty-Fourth Street, and that I should stop by sometime. Before I left Cartier, I called to see if he was cooking today, and he is. I say we go there for lunch. I say we try the food and see how Charles is doing. Does that work for you ladies?”
I just looked at her and smiled.
Blackwell lifted her chin and spoke to the driver. “JoJo’s,” she said. “Tout suite!”
* * *
Two hours later, when lunch was over, Blackwell asked our server if she might speak to Charles, who emerged from behind one of the patterned curtains that separated the tight dining areas. He wore a soiled white apron, and he was all smiles. He looked so different from the last time I saw him. He looked happy, which changed everything about him.
As Blackwell fell into conversation with him, I heard her ask him about school, whether he was enjoying it and earning good grades, how he was liking his time here, what he thought might be next for him once school was behind him, and then how proud of him she was that he had taken her advice and gotten the hell out of that hospital.
“I couldn’t stand the thought of you rotting there,” she said to him.
“Thanks to you, I don’t have to.”
“With all of that bacteria flying you, it’s a miracle you made it out alive when you did. You could have been felled by a staph infection, for God’s sake.”
“You crack me up, Ms. Blackwell.”
“Why do people say such things to me?”
“Because you’re funny.”
“I’m certainly not funny. I’m nothing if not serious.”
“She is funny,” I said to Charles. “And she knows it. Don’t let her fool you.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Blackwell said.
“Those who love you do.”
“Oh, please.” She looked at the young man. “Charles, Charles, Charles—how I hate to be surrounded by sentimentalists. It’s just one more suffrage slung my way.”
“Christmas is coming,” I said. “Get used to it, Barbara.”
She looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Not another word.” When she turned to Charles, her face softened. “You’re a fine young man, Charles, even if you do share the name of my former husband, who is a horrible person who should be eaten alive by the snake that gave birth to him. Not that I’ll hold that against you—obviously, I don’t. I can see your future stretched right out in front of you, and it’s rather something. I see Michelin stars. What did you make for us today?”
“What did you have?”
She went around the table and told him what we’d ordered.
“I made the salads, and I made your lobster salad,” he said to me.
“It was wonderful.”
“The salads were divoon,” Blackwell said. “So light. So fresh. Not too much oil. And just the right amount of vinegar and citrus. Sublime, sublime, sublime. Good for you. Well done, my future celebrity chef.”
“Thank you, Ms. Blackwell.”
“And good for you for going to school, and also f
or having the fortitude to land a prime apprenticeship here. Both will take you far. Just watch.”
“I really appreciate it, Ms. Blackwell.”
“I didn’t make this apprenticeship happen. You did, which says all I need to know about you. Oh, you darling boy. You keep working hard, keep learning new things, and you’ll be surprised by how the world will open up to you. I’m eager for that day. And remember—you never know when I’ll be back.” She lifted her napkin off her lap and placed in on the table. “After that perfect salad you made for me, I might even come with a proper appetite. So, you know, in the meantime, learn how to make poached salmon. Because when I come back? I’ll be having that.”
CHAPTER SIX
It was on a Monday that we left for Maine—just two days before Christmas, but plenty of time to buy food at Hannaford in Ellsworth, chop down a tree on Alex’s land, decorate it with whatever he had in the house to decorate it with, and get settled in.
We all agreed to meet in the lobby at Wenn before leaving. And that’s where we met Blackwell’s daughters.
I thought they were beautiful and verging on the exotic. I knew from Alex that Charles’ family came to the States from India two generations ago, and what I saw in Alexa and Daniella underscored that. They looked as if they could be fraternal twins. Each was young and lovely, with long, thick black hair that shimmered in the light. They had nice figures, clear complexions, and dark brown eyes laced with the sort of thick brown lashes I’d kill for.
“It’s nice to meet you,” I said to each of them.
Alexa came over to me first. “And you. Mom has said so much about you, Jennifer.”
“I hope good things.”
“She totes gave you props.”
“And Daniella,” I said as I approached her. “Welcome. I’m glad that you’re here.”
“You’re ass really is something,” she said. “Just like Mom said.”
I blushed at that.
Annihilate Me: Holiday Edition Page 3