Authors: Jean Nash
His words lifted her spirits, but it was still against her better judgment that she agreed to a meeting.
“We’ll have dinner in my suite at the
Brighton
,” Jay said. “Maybe new surroundings will make her more communicative.”
“You don’t know my mother,” Susanna said. “A Spanish Inquisitor couldn’t get her to part her lips.”
“We’ll see,” Jay said. “I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it.”
The dinner was set for the following week. Susanna wanted
Dallas
to be there, but he had gone to Brigantine on “business.”
“What kind of business?” Susanna asked
Augusta
after receiving this information.
They were in
Augusta
’s sitting room. Susanna was sitting stiffly on a petit-point chair, watching her mother at the vanity, brushing her hair. In an ivory peignoir with a frothing of lace,
Augusta
looked exquisitely beautiful and at least a decade younger than her forty-five years.
“I don’t know what kind of business,” she said, so innocently that Susanna was certain she was lying. “You know how close-mouthed men can be about their private affairs. Your father
never
confided in me— Oh, I’m sorry, Susanna. I didn’t mean to say that.”
But Susanna knew better.
Augusta
never missed the opportunity to tarnish Matthew’s memory. She decided to ignore it. Quarreling with her mother was like fighting a mist.
“Then you’ll come to dinner?” she said in as civil a tone as she could muster. “Jay said he’s looking forward to meeting you.”
“Is he really?”
Augusta
smiled. “Tell me about him, darling.
Dallas
said he’s now part owner of the hotel, but I’m interested in more personal details.”
“What kind of personal details?” Susanna asked suspiciously.
“Are you in love with him?”
Augusta
’s tone was warm and maternal, as if she and Susanna had had many an intimate chat over the years.
Susanna fumed at her presumption. “What right have you to ask such a question?”
A hurt look crossed
Augusta
’s face that was gone in an instant. “Susanna, I know you haven’t forgiven me for leaving you, and I don’t want to interfere in your life. But I know Mr. Grainger’s been here for several weeks, and your interest in him seems to me to be more than business-related.”
A thrill of alarm darted through Susanna. She didn’t want her mother to know about Jay and her. She didn’t want
Augusta
to know anything at all about her. “You’ve been misinformed,” she said coolly. “Jay and I are business partners, nothing more.”
Resigned,
Augusta
sighed. “Very well. You don’t want to confide in me. I can’t say I blame you. But, darling....” She paused, painfully aware of Susanna’s stony resistance. “Be very sure of a man before you give him your heart.”
She spoke the words fervently, as if she were concerned about her daughter, as if she loved her and feared for her future. Susanna, however, wasn’t fooled for a moment. A woman who callously abandons her family couldn’t possibly be concerned about anyone but herself.
Jay’s suite at the Brighton Hotel was even more luxurious than Susanna had imagined it would be. His sitting room, where they were to dine, could more appropriately have been called a drawing room.
From a great marble fireplace, a cedar fire gave warmth and fragrance to the spacious area. A crystal and bronze chandelier shed golden light on delicate eighteenth-century furnishings. About the room, on tabourets and consoles, were vases of fall flowers and fine pieces of porcelain. Susanna was glad she was wearing her most stylish gown, a sinuous draping of seafoam green silk, for when she entered the suite, the look in Jay’s eyes told her how perfectly she suited her surroundings.
“Susanna, Mrs. Sterling, good evening,” he said, ushering the ladies into the room.
Augusta
, in ecru satin, returned his greeting, then surveyed him in open appraisal. Susanna watched them with a vague foreboding and wished she’d never agreed to this senseless meeting.
“You look familiar to me,” Jay said to
Augusta
. “Is it possible we’ve met before?”
“I rather doubt it,” she said with a fleeting smile. “We hardly travel in the same circles.”
Redding
, Jay’s manservant, took the ladies’ wraps and disappeared into an adjoining room. Jay bade his guests sit, indicating the mauve moiré sofa, then sat opposite them as
Redding
reappeared with a tray of aperitifs.
“I hope you both don’t mind,” Jay said, taking a glass after the ladies had been served, “but when Susanna told me that
Dallas
wasn’t coming, I thought I’d make up the loss with my attorney, Ford Weston.”
Augusta
said graciously, “Of course we don’t mind. It will be twice more pleasant dining with
two
gentlemen from
New York
.”
“Have you ever been to
New York
, Mrs. Sterling?”
“When I was a new bride, my husband and I honeymooned there,”
Augusta
said, “my first and only visit. What an exciting city it is!”
“Yes, it is exciting.” Jay tasted his wine. “The city is small by any standards, yet it has more to offer than anyplace else in the world. No doubt you attended the Metropolitan Opera while you were there and saw a vaudeville at the Union Square Theatre?”
“Ah, yes,”
Augusta
said softly, as if recalling fond memories. “We did all that and more. What a lovely time we had. Honeymoons are such joyous periods. You’ve never been married, have you, Mr. Grainger?”
Augusta
’s unexpected question jolted Susanna, but it didn’t seem to faze Jay, for he said without a moment’s hesitation, “No, Mrs. Sterling, much to my regret.”
“May I inquire why?”
“Mother....” Susanna said warningly.
Jay forestalled her objection. “I spend all my time traveling between my hotels, Mrs. Sterling. It’s not the kind of life that promotes a successful marriage.”
“But surely you want a wife,”
Augusta
said, “and heirs to inherit all that you’ve worked so hard to attain?”
“
Mother
.”
“I do indeed,” Jay said readily.
“A wife who shares your interests,”
Augusta
said brightly, as if the thought had just occurred to her. “A woman who knows intimately the demands your hotels make on you.”
“Mother!”
But Jay was amused. “That’s exactly the kind of woman I want for a wife, Mrs. Sterling.”
Susanna’s face was hot with anger and mortification. How dare
Augusta
question Jay like a concerned mother? She had forfeited all maternal rights eleven years ago.
A knock sounded at the door.
Redding
admitted a gentleman into the room.
“Ford!” Jay rose with alacrity to greet his attorney. “You’re late.”
“Sorry, Jay. I was tied up with the Council and couldn’t get away.”
“No matter,” Jay said. “Come meet my guests. You know Susanna.” Ford greeted her cordially. “And this is her mother, Augusta Sterling.”
“Mrs. Sterling.” Ford took her extended hand and made a formal bow. “I’m happy to meet you.”
He was an attractive man in his early fifties, of medium height, compactly built, with graying brown hair, a friendly face, and intelligent dark eyes.
Augusta
gave him a look of pleased surprise which was not lost on her daughter. Perhaps, Susanna reflected, this meeting was not going to be so senseless after all. She looked toward Jay with respectful admiration. He winked at her, then told
Redding
they were ready for dinner.
Two hotel waiters, silent and efficient, served the meal. The conversation, led primarily by Jay and entertainingly punctuated by Ford, seemed designed to draw
Augusta
out. For the most part, Susanna remained silent, watching the others as if they were actors on a stage playing well-rehearsed parts. Jay was charming, Ford was flattering and attentive to
Augusta
.
Augusta
was gaily responsive, but her comments revealed nothing of importance. She was as skillful in her role as Jay and Ford were in theirs.
Over coffee and dessert, Jay said, “I haven’t had Nesselrode pudding this rich since Christmastime at Sherry’s. Have you ever been there, Mrs. Sterling?”
“Oh, yes! Isn’t it a fine restaurant? One sees so many celebrities there.”
Jay’s gaze turned fractionally toward Ford, who acknowledged the look with an almost imperceptible dip of his head. Susanna, noting this exchange, looked inquiringly toward Jay, but he was drinking his coffee and watching
Augusta
over the rim of his cup.
“Speaking of celebrities,” Ford said, “Lillian Russell is appearing tonight at the Empire Theatre in
Princess Nicotine
. Would you care to see it, Mrs. Sterling?”
“I’d love to,”
Augusta
said. “Susanna, Mr. Grainger, you’ll join us?”
“You’ll have to excuse us,” Jay said. “Susanna and I have some work to do at the Sea Star.”
“At this hour?”
Augusta
eyed him skeptically.
“Hotel people work twenty-four hours a day,” he said smoothly.
“Hotel
owners
,”
Augusta
said, “make their own hours, Mr. Grainger. If you’re using work as an excuse to be alone with my daughter, you needn’t bother. I have no objections.”
“Mother!”
Susanna was furious, but Jay seemed both amused and impressed by
Augusta
’s perception. “One can’t fool a parent, can one, Mrs. Sterling?”
Augusta
gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “People try, Mr. Grainger, but they seldom succeed.”
“What’s wrong?” Jay asked Susanna as his coachman turned the horses from
Indiana Avenue
onto Pacific.
She’d been tense and abstracted since leaving the
Brighton
. Now, she stared out the coach window at the modest houses so much in contrast to the huge hotels and noisy attractions that made up the Boardwalk. What would it be like, she wondered, to live in a house, to have a garden of her own and a white picket fence that would keep unwelcome intruders out of her life?
“Susanna, tell me what’s wrong.” Jay said when she remained silent. “Is it your mother? Does she upset you that much?”
Still looking out the window, Susanna muttered, “Only when she
acts
like a mother. I hate when she does that. It’s so patently a sham.”