Bianca let out a little laugh, stifling it before saying, "I think you meant 'Francophile', Chel. But, that is a great idea. And wait, I have an even better idea. Maybe Edie could come to my dinner party in June? And we could sample from your proposed American-style French recipes? But....no, wait. She doesn't even know me. She probably wouldn't want to go to dinner at a stranger's house. Even if she knows Chelsea."
Chelsea feeling left behind somehow, piped up, "No, but she knows John! So, it wouldn't be at a stranger's house."
Bianca turned to her, clearly surprised. "How does she know John?"
"Uh," Chelsea said, thinking fast. "Oh. When I called her about getting a reference, she was telling me she needed a good stockbroker. So, of course, I thought of John. I mean, that's what he does, right?" She didn't mean to sound so defensive, but there it was in her voice. She smiled again.
Bianca looked at her for a beat before she said, "Yes. That's what he does. Well, that was nice of you."
"Oh, it was nothing! Just...trying to help Edie!" Chelsea said, her eyes practically popping out in her effort to appear blameless.
"Well, since you know her and she knows John, it seems as if it will work out after all," Bianca said, her tone cool. She turned to Lucie and her manner warmed. "Lucie, how does that sound? Would that help you, do you think?"
"Oh," Lucie said, "It would be amazing. Thank you! And thank you, Chelsea. I probably will need help with the proposal."
Chelsea nodded, glad to get some of the credit even if Bianca had claimed the lion's share. But no, Bianca was just trying to help Lucie. Why did it always feel like a contest, then? Chelsea said, "I'd be happy to help. And I'll call Edie tomorrow and invite her. I hope she can make it."
Bianca turned back to Chelsea, "Now this is going to be a couple's dinner, Chel. So, you'll have to bring your boyfriend. What was his name again?"
"I, I don't have a boyfriend?" Chelsea said. She thought back; didn't she already say that?
"Oh, for some reason I thought you did?"
"No?"
"Odd. All right. I'll set you up then. I can think of at least two eligible bachelors who would be happy to be your date for the evening. Edie, of course, should bring someone as well."
"Oh, you don't have to do all that. Can't I just come on my own?"
Bianca shook her head, "Of course I do! It's not a problem; in fact, it would be my pleasure. And besides, I'd think you'd love to be set up with one of John's buddies. They're all traders and brokers and quite well off. The one I'm thinking of for you is so handsome. You'll die for him. Hope he can make it."
"Oh...," Chelsea started to plead, and then realized how it sounded. If she was single, as she claimed, she would love to be set up with a successful stockbroker or trader. She'd be over the moon and back. But John. And he would be sitting right there, across from her at the table while she was on her "date". How would they pull it off?
She cringed a little and then felt Lucie's eyes on her and looked over. Lucie was watching her with a considering look, clearly remembering their many conversations about men and romance and Chelsea's dreams. She might also be remembering a recent conversation about an ex named John, who happened to be married to Bianca. John, the ex Lucie had warned Chelsea to stay away from, to avoid like the plague. And, like a plague, he had infected her life thoroughly, altering its very course.
"Thank you," Chelsea said as sincerely as she could.
Bianca smiled and nodded.
"Well, I don't have a date," Sharon said. "Can you set me up, too?"
"What about Dean?" Bianca asked.
Chelsea tuned out, feeling overwhelmed and needing to marshal her energies. She looked down at her drink, which was nearly empty, the maraschino cherry she had insisted on sitting at the bottom of her martini glass in the remaining passion fruit juice. Instead of looking juicy and delicious the way cherries always looked to Chelsea, it looked unappetizing, like a forlorn leftover. She swirled the remains of the drink around the cherry, trying to make it look better.
Mojito
"Well, I don't have a date," Sharon said. "Can you set me up, too?"
"What about Dean?" Bianca asked, surprised. She thought that certainly the two would be an item by now. She remembered Dean's look of earnest infatuation very well from the night she'd met him at Ibiza, the way he'd strained to look in Sharon's direction wherever she wandered in her schlumpy cheap jeans and ratty old button-down shirt, as if she was a supermodel or something.
"Dean? Seriously? I know you enjoy teasing me, but this time you're way off. We're neighbors, that's all," Sharon said, looking as uncomfortable as ever when Dean was mentioned.
Bianca waited for Chelsea to squeal about the flowers and chocolates that Dean had been leaving on Sharon's doorstep, but she seemed to be engrossed in her drink. Chelsea had told Bianca all about Dean's pursuit, breathless and aflutter with romantic fantasies as usual. And Chelsea's utter distraction at such a choice moment was yet another reason why Bianca knew that Chelsea was hiding something, something was going on, and Bianca would find out what it was soon. But tonight it would have to wait; she had more important things to think about.
Bianca shrugged. "I heard that he had an interest. Chelsea told me about the chocolates and the flowers? I just thought...well, sorry." Honestly, the whole Dean game was getting boring, especially now that Sharon was off her scent, apparently fooled.
Sharon tilted her head back and forth and said, "No, you're right. Chelsea told the truth. He was doing all that. But it was just to apologize for making all that noise I told you about. All night on the trampoline? Anyway, he's quiet now. Everything's fine." Sharon looked almost miserable as she said the last.
"I'd be happy to set you up," Bianca said, "Any preferences? Tall, dark, and handsome fit the bill?"
"Sign me up," Sharon said with a wink before raising her martini briefly in Bianca's direction and taking a sip.
Bianca turned to Lucie. "Oh, and Lucie, you have to bring Ryan."
Lucie shook her head and waved her hands in a cutting motion over the tabletop. "No, no. Not while I'm working. It will just distract me, having him there. We'll have to all go out some other time, though; have a couples night. I can't thank you enough for doing this, Bianca. The dinner? Things have been...not great, to be honest."
"What?" Sharon and Bianca asked in unison. Kate looked alarmed while Chelsea remained in la-la land.
Lucie made an upside-down smile of embarrassment. "I've lost a bunch of jobs lately, that's all."
"Why?" Bianca said, "What happened?"
"Nothing. I mean, I guess there've been some rumors. I don't know..." Lucie said. "Anyway, Bianca, I just want you to know how much I appreciate the work and the opportunity - if it works out - to show off for Chelsea's old boss. It could make all the difference for me."
"Of course," Bianca said, putting on her most concerned face. "Happy to help. But, what were you saying? About rumors?"
Lucie shrugged and sighed. "It's nothing."
"Not if you're losing work due to it."
"I know," Sharon said, sitting back and folding her arms over her chest. "It's Molly, isn't it?"
Lucie tightened her lips and nodded.
"What is she saying?"
"I think it's something about food poisoning. Telling people there was some kind of incident. It's a big deal breaker for a caterer, especially a new one like me. People don't want to risk their parties being ruined, guests getting sick. I don't blame them, but it's not true. I've never had anything like that happen; I'm so so careful."
"Oh, my God!" Sharon said, "She really is an abomination. I have to tell you what happened. You're not going to believe it."
But Bianca was tuning out, a new riveting idea occurring to her. Her problem: a silly little dinner party that had no value to her other than to throw Grant off track that day when she tried to seduce him in his office. Now she was stuck entertaining a bunch of women she had no interest in other than to put on the I'v
e-got-friends-like-a-normal-woman act for John's sake. Her plans to eliminate Kate as a competitor for Grant's affections was going just fine without these nights out - well, tonight would be a huge win, but generally the girl's nights out were a slog.
She'd been turning the problem over and over in her mind, unable to find a way to get something worthwhile out of the dinner party she'd felt forced to schedule. She hadn't considered food poisoning. It would be a perfect way to get Grant alone assuming she made sure neither of them ate the bad food, everyone else puking away in the bathrooms after dessert. And, if on top of that she found a way to get him drunk, his reservations and good manners would fly out the window, opening him up completely to her. The best part would be that she would be considered blameless, a victim. After all, Lucie's business had a bad reputation regarding food poisoning; obviously, it was just another unfortunate incident. And after Bianca trusted Lucie, hiring her for this special dinner party - it was a shame. It was also brilliant.
Tuning back in to the conversation around the cocktail table to give the impression of interest, she heard the tail end of some dull story about TMB and much commiseration between Lucie and Sharon over a woman named Molly. Then Chelsea, apparently back on planet Earth, started complaining about what was being said about Molly and they changed the subject back to Kate's baby.
Bianca made a point of dragging out the discussion of Kate's baby as long as possible so that the bar could empty out. She'd needed as few witnesses as possible and one of the reasons she had suggested The Vault's Birdcage was because it was an early-evening hotspot, not a late-night place. Most people who came to the restaurant's upstairs bar for a drink had dinner reservations downstairs afterward. The place conveniently emptied out around eight usually.
She was glad to note that her black widow's get-up had worked, too. Bianca never understood why some women who had decent figures and no need to hide swore by all black. It just made you disappear. Plus, black made her looked washed-out, greenish. It was color that was flattering, red that drew the eye and excited men. That was why it was her signature color, her closet aflame with it. But red was all wrong for tonight, black perfect for her purposes. Wearing her mourning clothes from her father's funeral and her hair in a severe bun, she was practically invisible.
At eight-thirty Lucie made a show of looking at her watch, a beautiful delicate gold Cartier that Bianca had admired and Lucie had said was her mother's with evident pride and a touch of ridiculous nostalgia, her eyes misting and making Bianca want to vomit. Lucie said, "I probably should go. I've got things I've got to do tonight, believe it or not."
"What things? At this hour?" Bianca said.
Lucie shook her head, cutting her eyes away. "My father's insisting I buy locks for the refrigerator space I rent. He thinks that someone's going to sabotage my food."
"Ha!" Bianca said, suddenly worried, "That's paranoid. Who would do such a thing?"
"I know," Lucie said. "It is ridiculous, isn't it?"
Sharon said, "I don't know, maybe it's-"
Bianca rushed to interrupt her, saying, "I think it's a slippery slope, being paranoid. One minute you're buying locks for your refrigerators, next thing you know you're afraid of your suppliers."
Lucie looked at Bianca and nodded, her face serious. "I agree. I don't like it, this worrying. It's scary. I don't want to spend my life looking over my shoulder like that."
"It's true. Who wants to live like that?" Bianca said, nodding too.
Sharon said, slumping a little, "Actually, I'm probably too paranoid. I'm a worry-wart at heart. That's what my mom always says."
Bianca was relieved that Sharon let it go so easily. She really was coming around nicely. They paid their shares on the bar tab plus a hefty tip, and stood.
Chelsea said, "Hey guys, this was fun. So, I guess we'll see each other at Bianca's on the fifteenth? I'm on a budget, so I can't really go out that much right now." She spoke in a subdued voice, her eyes glancing away frequently.
Bianca stared at her, willing Chelsea to return her gaze, but it remained averted. The other girls only nodded and murmured their assent.
"You'll still help me with the book proposal, right?" Lucie said.
"Sure," Chelsea said, looking at her, finally able to tear her eyes away from the floor, "Let's meet at your place and we'll go over it. Anyway, I've got to go to the ladies room, so I'll see you guys soon!" She gave a frantic wave, spun on her heel and walked away. Bianca watched her go, pondering.
Sharon called after her, "Wait, me too! I've got to go to the bathroom before I get on the road. Bye all!"
The remaining women hugged and parted, Lucie, Kate and Bianca walking towards the spiral staircase. Bianca couldn't believe her luck. She was only going to have to deal with Lucie. As they crossed the floor, Kate wobbling a bit on her high heels, Bianca reached out and grabbed Kate's arm.
"Kate. Wait a sec. Oh, Lucie, you go ahead. I just have to talk to Kate for a minute. We'll see you downstairs," Bianca said, watching Lucie nod and then slowly make her way to the top of the stairs. Damn, Lucie was slow. What was the matter with her? Hurry up and get out of the way!
Kate turned and said, "What? Is everything okay? Please don't be mad at me?"
Bianca, releasing Kate's arm, did a double take. "Mad at you?"
"About talking about the baby? I know what you said, but I just can't help it. I'm so excited?"
"Of course, you are. I just don't want you to get hurt."
"Oh! You're so good to me. And these shoes, they're beautiful?"
Bianca smiled, letting herself gloat a little. "Aren't they? I just knew they were perfect for you."
"It's hard to walk in them," Kate said, looking down at her feet, but then she looked up quickly with a guilty look on her mousy face. "But I will? I'll wear them?"
Bianca glanced behind Kate. No sign of Lucie. Hopefully she was downstairs by now. If not, tough. "I'm so glad you like them. You'll have to wear them for the dinner party at my house. They go with everything, that pretty nude color," Bianca said, taking Kate's arm again and moving again toward the staircase, a narrow steep spiral that was memorably precarious to visitors of The Birdcage.
Most patrons who went there for the first time commented on the bar's lack of an elevator while feeling smug that all those hours they spent on the Stairmaster at the gym paid off with more than just tight buttocks: they could climb The Birdcage's famous staircase. It was practically a sign that you were elite - lean, healthy, carb-free living made it easy for you to mount them and mingle with only those who were equally so.
Arriving at the top of the stairs, Bianca motioned for Kate to go first. As if she was purposely being obstinate, Kate stopped and turned to look at Bianca, ankles quivering and hand reaching out to touch the banister for support. "Bianca, I just wanted to say, about the other day? You don't have to worry about Grant and me. Really?"
Bianca, feeling the time slipping away with Chelsea and Sharon only moments from re-emerging from the ladies room, said quickly, "No, no, no. Really. Please forget what I said. Come on, Lucie's waiting for us. We don't want to keep her?"
"Oh? Okay? You're sure?"
"Yes! Yes, I am. Please, let's go," Bianca said, motioning again.
Kate smiled at Bianca, "You're my best friend ever?"
"Kate! Please!"
"Oh! You're right? Lucie's waiting?" Kate said with a cringing nod at Bianca's raised voice, and turned. Kate started down the stairs, her legs shaking more and more with each step.
Bianca leaned forward and gave Kate the slightest shove in the small of her back using the flat of her hand, and shouted in her ear, "Kate! Watch out, you're going to fall!"
But Kate was already falling forward, arms going in front of her pointlessly, her little purse and the shopping bag containing her flats dropping too as she released them, hands grabbing air. Kate hurtled silently. Bianca was impressed. She expected a scream. Instead there was a crashing sound as Kate hit the stairs, tumbling down
. Then there was a faint yelp further down the stairs. Was that Lucie?
Bianca, stifling a smile that crept onto her lips at the beautiful, almost musical, sound of Kate losing her baby, threw up her hands as if in dismay and turned to see if the bartenders were looking, the bar empty now. No, they were all in the far corner talking to each other.
That's when she saw Sharon, standing just outside of the door to the bathroom, the door itself still swinging shut. Sharon was staring at her.
Vodka Martini
Sharon stepped out of the bathroom stall feeling as if she was in a shadowy closet. After the glittering gold and green of The Birdcage, the famous bar's decor making her think of shimmering leaves in summer sunshine, the bar's ladies room was ridiculously black: black marble floor, walls, sinks, toilets - even the ceiling tiles had been painted black. The lighting was so low it was hard to see where she was going.
The darkness also made it harder for Sharon to stay awake. After the shaking and her nervous high from the afternoon's drama had subsided, she felt herself struggling to stay engaged in the conversation. As every minute ticked by, she felt the lure of home and her soft bed growing stronger. Although she'd been faced with how empty her life had become in the car earlier, she was glad she was going home now to a quiet mess-free house. It had been too long of a day.
The bathroom was eerily silent, typically chatty Chelsea sitting quietly in her stall. And she'd been that way all night. Every question, even about her job hunting, had been answered too succinctly for the girl Sharon had grown to know well: a girl who loved to talk. Whenever they'd gone to the bathroom together in the past, Chelsea would continue the conversation between stalls, burbling happily away.
Sharon finally located the ebony soap dispenser which was hiding on the equally black marble sink and she squeezed - surprise! - white pearly soap into her hand and put her hands under the automatic faucet to start the water flow. Lathering her hands under the cool water, she broke the silence. "So, Chelsea, that was really nice of you to think of your old boss. I'm sure Lucie will impress her at Bianca's dinner party."
Cocktail Hour Page 27