“Can I get you something to drink?” she offered.
“No, thank you. I’m meeting our mama tonight. I have to go to the airport. She was visiting her sister in Salerno.”
“Doesn’t she live in one of the apartments above the restaurant?”
“Sometimes. She spends most of the time in Italy, with my father, but now, with the new baby coming, she wanna help. It’s good for Marco and Anita.”
“And you? You live upstairs, too?”
“For now. My plan is to move to New Jersey and open my own restaurant. As soon as I finish culinary school.” He was shuffling his feet.
“Where in New Jersey?” Frankie was hoping it wouldn’t be too far away. Not that it mattered. At least she didn’t think it mattered.
“There are a couple-a places we are looking at.”
“We?” Frankie figured the other person was his girlfriend.
“Me and Marco. We will be partners. He will keep his place, and I will have mine. This way, it will be better for us to purchase from the vendors and purveyors.”
“That’s exciting,” Frankie remarked.
“I think Marco may sell his place here once the babies start to go to school. The city is no place for children. Sophia is three, and the baby comes soon.” Giovanni smiled.
“But then what would Marco do? Heck, what will I do?” Frankie exclaimed.
Giovanni laughed nervously. “You come and see us. We’ll make the best-a dinner you ever had.”
“Do you know what type of restaurant you want to open?” Frankie thought she might be prying a little too deeply. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be so nosy.”
“Not a problem, Miss—. I mean, Frankie.” She could have sworn his eyes sparkled.
“It will depend on-a the space, but we think maybe two separate places. Also a liquor license. We have maybe one, two more years to plan.”
“Wow. That’s big news.” Frankie was surprised.
“Please, no mention to Marco. He’s a little superstitious. Il malocchio!” Giovanni made the sign of the cross as he referenced the expression for the evil eye.
“Oh no. Never.” Frankie made the sign of the cross in response.
“I guess we are both a little-a superstitious, too?” Giovanni chuckled.
“Please. My mother has every good-luck piece from Italy and China! She said that the Chinese have been believing in certain things for thousands of years. They have to be right about something.”
Giovanni flashed a beautiful smile. “Your mama, she’s-a right.”
By that time, Bandit had sauntered over to where the two of them were standing. “And this is my roommate and best friend, Bandit.” Frankie picked him up and gave him a hug.
“He’s beautiful. A black cat. You must be very, how do you say, spiritual?”
“I guess that’s better than calling me a witch.”
Giovanni laughed. “Oh no, signorina. You? Witch? Never.”
“Whew. Thanks. I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea about me.” Frankie giggled nervously. Focusing on the task at hand instead of acting like a schoolgirl, she started to walk toward the kitchen. “Follow me.”
“Anytime,” Giovanni replied.
Frankie’s legs were starting to feel like jelly. It had been a long time since a man was so disarming. Could he tell? She tried extremely hard to keep her composure.
“Here’s his food. One can in the morning and one at night. A cup of dry food in the bowl and fresh water.”
“Capisce!”
She set Bandit down in front of his dry food. “Here comes the not-so-fun part.” Frankie directed Giovanni toward the bathroom, where she kept the litter box. She showed him her routine. She removed the soiled litter that was contained in a liner and tossed it into a small trash bag. She replaced the liner with a new one and put several large scoops of litter into the pan. “That’s it. No scooping. It’s a waste of money and litter.”
“Va bene! OK. Easy. You change in the morning or nighttime?”
“In the morning. I should be back Saturday around noon, so you don’t have to change it on Saturday.”
“Oh no, Frankie. You must-a come home to a clean house.”
“It’s fine, I . . .”
Giovanni interrupted. “This is gonna be-a my job, no?”
“Sì!”
“OK. So, I do it my way.” Giovanni smiled that smile again.
Frankie reached for the envelope that contained one hundred dollars and handed it to Giovanni. “Here. This is what I usually pay the kitty sitter—twenty dollars per visit.”
“Oh no. I take no money from you.” Giovanni touched her hand. “You are almost like family to us. This is no problem for me to do for you.”
“Oh, Giovanni, I can’t expect you to do this for free.”
“Please, signorina, I am happy to do this. Less than fifteen minutes two times a day? Please. You can spend time with your family and not worry.”
“Are you sure?” Frankie was almost pleading with him.
“Assolutamente! Absolutely.”
“But when I go on my cruise, you will let me pay you. I insist.”
“I will not take your money. Capisce?” He almost looked stern.
“Capisce!” Baloney, she thought. I’ll buy him something during the trip. I’ll figure it out.
“OK. We are good, sì?”
“Sì!” Frankie replied. She walked him to the door.
Giovanni turned and put his hands on both of her shoulders and kissed her on each cheek, European style. “Bravo! Molto bene! You have a nice visit. I see you Saturday. Ciao, bella!”
“Ciao, Giovanni!” Frankie let him out, shut the door, leaned against it, and slid down to the floor. “Mamma mia!” Then she realized she had been blushing. Probably the entire time he was there.
Chapter Eight
Saturday after Thanksgiving
Ridgewood Country Club, Paramus, New Jersey
The Ridgewood Country Club sits on 257 acres of land with a twenty-seven-hole golf course. Founded in 1890 and moved to its current location in 1926, it has the honor of holding a position in the National Register of Historic Places. It boasts Norman-style architecture, with a tower and porches nestled against a backdrop similar to the landscaping of Northern France. It was everything one could imagine a country club to be.
Saturday was the annual Harvest Ball at the club. The past few years, it had been less of a ball and more of a lavish cocktail party. It seemed as if the days of evening gowns and tuxedos were a relic of the past. It was just as well. No one appeared to want to attend a gala. They were stuffy and expensive and a lot of work. Between ticket sales, catering, silent auctions, live auctions, and entertainment, the event barely paid for itself even while trying to raise money for the local food bank.
Then one year, someone proposed that the club do something different. Something more casual. The ticket price was still $250 per person but no “rubber chicken dinners” and many fewer speeches. The charity got more money, and everyone had a much better time.
Dorothy was all atwitter, anticipating the oohs and aahs and congratulations that would be forthcoming. She fidgeted with her five-carat diamond engagement ring. Granted, she had bought it herself. Rusty had said that he was waiting for a check to clear. Despite the warning signs, she could see nothing amiss. Or maybe she was in denial. Dorothy wanted a companion in a stable and secure relationship. She consoled herself with the notion that people often had financial difficulties. Rusty was no different. At least that’s what she kept telling herself.
She spotted Rusty speaking to one of the waitresses. She could swear that he was flirting. How could that be? They were going to announce their wedding plans tonight.
She dashed over to where he was standing and linked her arm through his. “There you are, darling,” he said, flashing her a big smile. “This is Megan. She used to work at a club that I frequented in the city.”
“Hello, Megan. What brings you to our neck of the woo
ds?” Dorothy tried to sound casual.
“I’m with the catering company. We do a lot of parties in the tristate area.”
“Well, you do get around, now don’t you?” Dorothy couldn’t help herself. Her soon-to-be-husband was almost fifteen years her junior. Megan could have been an ex-girlfriend for all she knew. Dorothy was starting to feel uncomfortable. She had never felt threatened or jealous before. But then again, she had never seen Rusty interact with a young woman before. It was always with her friends and members of the country club. But something about the situation just wasn’t sitting right with her. It was if someone had flipped a switch, and the lights had gone on. She tried to shake it off, attributing it to nerves and excitement.
“Rusty, darling, shall we go make our announcement?” She practically dragged him away from Megan.
“Good to see you, Megan,” Rusty said over his shoulder.
He turned to Dorothy. “What was that all about?”
“Whatever do you mean, dear?”
“You were jealous.” Rusty bristled.
“I was no such thing.” Dorothy sounded convincing, but still, what had happened was unsettling.
The president of the club walked over to the podium and asked the band to take a short break.
“Ladies and gentlemen. I am happy to announce the engagement of one of our dearest members, Dorothy Blanchard, to Russell ‘Rusty’ Jacobs!” Applause and cheers filled the room.
Dorothy smiled and waved to the crowd. As they made their way back to one of the high-top tables, Lloyd Luttrell stopped to congratulate them.
“Oh, Lloyd. So nice to see you.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Rusty, this is Lloyd Luttrell. He represented me in my divorce.”
Lloyd held out his hand. “Good to meet you, old chap. Hopefully, we’ll never be on opposite sides of the table.” Lloyd chortled and took a sip of his cocktail.
Rusty was nervous. His hands were sweating. He forced a chuckle in return. “Oh no. Dorothy and I are soul mates.”
Lloyd almost spit out his drink. Now he understood Amy’s concern for her mother. About a half hour later, when Dorothy was speaking to some of the other women and showing off her ring, Lloyd approached her. “Ah, the newly betrothed. May I steal her away for a moment?” he said to the other women, who smiled their consent.
“What’s on your mind, Lloyd?” Dorothy was calm. Neutral.
“Would you do me the honor of having lunch with me next week?”
“I’ll check with Rusty and see when he’s available,” Dorothy answered blankly.
“Actually, I want to take you to lunch. Just the two of us.” Lloyd sounded casual enough.
“Oh. Well, of course, Lloyd. Anything in particular on your mind?”
“No. It’s been a while, and I thought we could catch up before you’re swept away.” Smooth.
“Why, that would be delightful. Shall I call your office and speak to Louise?” Dorothy was referring to his assistant.
“Splendid. I am looking forward to it,” Lloyd replied, and shook her hand gently. As he walked away, he resisted the temptation to do a “yes!” arm pump. Lloyd was also divorced. Twice. He knew all too well how those things go down. Fortunately, he was a master at litigation.
The party started to wind down, and the guests were saying their good-byes and toodle-oos when Rachael approached Lloyd. “Mr. Lloyd Luttrell. So good to see you.” She gave him a peck on the cheek.
“Rachael. How are you? Ryan? Are your folks here?” Lloyd asked.
“All is well in my world. Ryan is great. Yes, Mom and Dad were here briefly but left about an hour ago. After they said their congrats to Dorothy, they split.”
There was an awkward silence between them as if each of them knew the other’s agenda. Rachael decided to unseal the vacuum with a little small talk.
“Amy, Frankie, Nina, and I are planning a cruise between Christmas and New Year’s. We’re all very excited about it.”
“I hope none of you end up needing a lawyer!” Lloyd joked.
“Well, you never know with the four of us. Coochie-coochie.” Rachael gave a little rumba move.
“Rachael, you always were a ball of fire.” Lloyd smiled.
“And I ain’t stopping anytime soon.” Rachael grinned.
Lloyd reached into his pocket and pulled out a Cartier business-card holder. He handed one of his to Rachael and gave her a wink. “Just in case.”
Rachael tapped the card in her hand. “But aren’t you a divorce lawyer?”
“Yes, that’s my specialty, as you know. But if you are ever in trouble, you can call me, and I’ll do my best.” He gave her shoulder a little squeeze. “You gals have fun and try to stay out of trouble.”
“Will do. And maybe not.” Rachael let out a loud laugh and gave him another kiss on the cheek.
“Bye for now.” Lloyd turned and made his exit. He was jazzed that he had been able to get Dorothy to agree to have lunch with him. He handed the valet his parking stub, nodded, and smiled at the other departing guests. He would wait until he got in his car to phone Amy and let her know that he had made contact with her mother and a lunch was planned. He pulled his car to one side of the massive driveway of the country club. He quickly typed an e-mail to his assistant for when she got back in on Monday. He let her know to expect a call from Dorothy and to accommodate whatever date she had in mind. Clear his schedule as needed. He also instructed her to make a reservation at the Village Green and send over a bottle of the Gaja Winery’s Gaia & Rey chardonnay so it could be chilled, and a bottle of Jadot NSG Les Boudots, in case Dorothy preferred red. This was going to be a very personal tête-à-tête. After he hit SEND, he phoned Amy. He knew that there was a three-hour time difference, so it was only eight o’clock in California.
“Hello?” Amy answered on the second ring.
“Amy. Lloyd Luttrell here.”
“Well, hello. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thank you. I wanted you to know that I was able to talk your mother into having lunch with me next week.”
“That’s wonderful!” Amy was overjoyed. Someone had her mother’s back.
“I see what you mean about her fiancé. Rather ingratiating fellow, eh?”
“You’re being kind.” Amy laughed nervously.
“I had only met him briefly, and at the time, I didn’t realize he was a few years her junior.”
“All the more reason I suspect he’s a ne’er-do-well,” Amy replied.
“I hope I can give her something to think about, assuming she doesn’t throw a glass of wine in my face.” Lloyd chuckled.
Amy laughed. “I doubt that. She’s always thought very highly of you.”
“The feeling is quite mutual,” Lloyd said casually.
“Thank you so much for doing this.”
“The pleasure is all mine,” Lloyd reassured her. “You do realize that if she decides to take my advice, I won’t be able to discuss it with you. Attorney-client privilege.”
“Of course. I just want someone besides me to give her food for thought.”
“Understood. I will, however, let you know if it went well, or not,” Lloyd assured her.
“Thanks so much.” Amy gave a huge sigh.
“You are very welcome. Enjoy the rest of the weekend.”
“You too, Mr. Luttrell.”
“Call me Lloyd.” He smiled as he ended the call.
Chapter Nine
The Next Morning
Ridgewood, New Jersey
Rachael couldn’t wait any longer. She looked at her clock. It was still 6:00 A.M. in Santa Clara. She figured Amy was up and getting ready to go to the shelter. Amy picked up on the first ring.
“Geesh. Took you long enough.” Amy chided Rachael.
“Yeah. Sorry. By the time I got home, I was beat. Greg and Ryan had a bit of a tiff. Something about a video game, and Ryan had a meltdown. I’ll find out more details later, when Ryan comes down for breakfast.”
“That’s not like
him, is it? To have a meltdown?”
“Not usually, but he’s at that age when he’s forming his own opinions about things.” Rachael sighed. “And I don’t think he likes Greg’s new wife, Vicki.”
“Even the name sounds pretentious.” Amy snickered as she sipped her morning coffee.
“Actually, she’s not pretentious at all. ‘Indifferent’ would be a better word to describe her. She pretty much stays out of the way when Ryan is there. Anyway, I had to go pick him up at midnight. Greg and I will chat about this at a later time. I’m too pooped to go through one of our usual blame-game conversations. He thinks I spoil Ryan. And maybe I do in a way, but I don’t ever want Ryan to think he is unloved just because his parents can’t get along. You know how kids can blame themselves for their parents’ splitting up. They think it’s their fault somehow.”
“You don’t have to tell me,” Amy said sympathetically. “When I was younger, I thought my father stayed away because of me. But that didn’t last very long because he was very loving when he would get back from his business trips. When they finally decided to get a divorce, I was already a freshman in college, so I knew for sure it wasn’t my fault.”
“Ryan is OK today. When I asked him about the incident, all he said was ‘Daddy wouldn’t let me play my game. He wanted me to go to bed. But it wasn’t my bedtime.’ I guess Greg wanted some alone time with the missus.”
“You’d think Greg would want to spend some quality time with his son.” Amy sighed. “What about the cruise? Isn’t Ryan supposed to stay with Greg that week?”
“Yes, but my parents are standing by in case there’s another dustup.”
“Oh good.” Holding the phone under her chin, Amy breathed a sigh of relief as she fed the cats. “It would be a shame if you had to miss the cruise.”
“No way! I need it more than ever. Ernie turned out to be a total dud.”
“I would suggest you stay away from men for a while, but we know that’s just not in your DNA. Plus, the whole reason for this trip is to try to have fun with them. It’s better if you are unfettered. No guilt.” Amy was busily getting herself ready to leave for the shelter.
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