Waiting for Mr. Darcy (15 page)

“They sure grow up fast.”

“True. How are you?”

“I can't complain. I did go out west on business for a while. The weather was great but I still caught a cold…”

Terrence continued to drone on. Gabby tuned him out but nodded as if she was paying attention.
This is why he's been divorced six times. His ex-wives wanted to avoid death by boredom. He's the dullest man I know, and naturally he's the one my mother sends my way.

“Gabby?”

“Oh, I'm sorry. Say that again.”

“I asked if you were free to join me for a drink this evening.”

“I'm sorry, I have plans this evening.”

“I see. Perhaps another time.”

“Perhaps.”

He got up to leave. “It was good seeing you, Gabby.”

“You too, Terrence,” she lied.

Gabby waited a minute before she picked up the phone.

“Good afternoon, Blanchard residence.”

“Hi, Ms. Cummings, it's Gabby. Is my mother around?”

“I'll check. Hold please.”

“No problem.” Gabby tapped her fingers on the desk.

Her mother picked the phone up. “Hello?”

“Hello, Mother.”

“Hello, Gabby. How are you?”

“I'm fine, Mother. How are you?”

“I'm good, dear.”

“That's good to hear.” She paused to take a breath. “Well, Mother, you will never guess who just dropped by the gallery. Terrence Talbot.”

“Is that right? I guess he had business in the area.”

“Business you sent him on.”

“What do you mean?” She made an attempt to sound innocent.

“Come on, Mother. You were talking about him on Sunday and suddenly he shows up at the gallery in the middle of the week.”

“Can I help it if great minds think alike?”

“Mother, Terrence Talbot is the dullest man on two legs. Haven't you ever noticed how women tend to scatter when he walks into a room?”

“That's what's wrong with you young people. You put too much emphasis on superfluous things.”

“I don't think wanting to be with someone who is intellectually stimulating is superfluous.”

“Gabrielle, you're getting older and not thinner. You can't continue to be so choosy. Do you want to end up alone?”

Bunny's words cut her. “Is that what you think, Mother? That I'm an old, fat divorcee who should be happy for any attention thrown my way?”

“I didn't say that.”

“But that's what you meant.”

“I meant no such thing.”

“Well, Mother, despite your pronouncement I have plans with someone this evening, and it's not gallery-related. It's a date.”

“I see.”

“In fact, he'll be here in a little while and I need to freshen up. I'll talk to you later, Mother.”

“Who is this fellow? Do we know him?”

“Give my love to Daddy. I'll be there this weekend to see him. Love you, Mother.” She hung up and quickly left her office.

“I'll be in the ladies' room.”

“Okay,” Robin said as she sipped her coffee.

Gabby rushed to the ladies' room and went straight for the mirror. She studied her reflection, taking note of the fine lines on her face.
Am I kidding myself? I'm not a spring chicken and winter's coming.
She sighed.
Why do I let my mother do this to me? I just spent an amazing night with a man who made me feel like Botticelli's Venus.
She chuckled, stepped back and checked her outfit. She turned around to check out the rear view. “Not bad.” She wiggled and then walked out, straight into Nigel.

“Hey, fancy meeting you like this.” He smiled.

“Hi. I didn't expect you until later.”

“I snuck out a little early today. I couldn't wait to see you.” He put his arms around her.

Gabby felt herself turn into jelly. “I'm glad you did.”

Soon they were locked in a sexy embrace.

“Hmm mm.” Robin cleared her throat.

“Oh, Robin,” Gabby was a little embarrassed. “You remember Nigel Clark.”

“Yes.”

“Nice to see you again.” He shook her hand.

“You, too.”

“Do you need something from me?”

“Oh yes, I almost forgot. Is there anything else you need me to do before we lock up tonight?”

“You know, I did want to talk to you for a minute. Do you mind, Nigel?”

“Not at all. I'll wait for you out here.”

“I'll only be a minute.” Gabby and Robin went into her office.

“What's the matter, Gabby?”

“I just wanted to explain about Nigel and me…”

She cut her off. “Gabby, it's none of my business.”

“You work here, and he is a part of the new artist exhibition.”

“Relax, Gabby, I know he didn't get a spot in the show because of your relationship.”

“I didn't want you to have the wrong idea.”

“It didn't even cross my mind. Do you know what I thought?”

“What?”

“You go, girl!” She chuckled. “He's a cutie.”

“He certainly is.” She blushed.

“Now go and have a good time tonight.”

“I will. Thanks.” She walked back out.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes.” Gabby grinned. “I'm ready when you are.”

“Have a good night, you two.” Robin waved.

“We will.” Nigel winked.

A short while later Gabby and Nigel arrived at Restaurant Daniel, a very classy yet warm restaurant with an earthy appeal. Since it was a winner of the
New York Times
coveted five-star rating, Gabby was shocked Nigel was able to get a reservation. It was usually booked up at least a month or more in advance.

“Are you surprised?” He rubbed her hand.

“Yes, pleasantly surprised. How on earth did you get a reservation so soon?”

“Suffice it to say that being an investment banker has privileges that go far beyond money.” He raised his eyebrow.

“This is very cool.”

While they waited for the maître d', Gabby noticed Babette Henderson approaching. “Oh great,” she groaned.

“What's wrong?”

“Do you see the brunette heading our way?”

“Yes.”

“That's Babette Henderson. Her mother Faye and my mother have been friends forever.”

“Do you know her from your boarding school days?”

“No, it's more like my short-lived debutante days.”

The slim, petite Babette came closer. “Gabby, I thought that was you.”

She went in for the European air kiss. “It's good to see you, Babette. Are you here with your mother?”

“No, Mother's in Monaco. I'm here with Ryan Fredericks. You remember him, don't you? He was on the polo team with Bill.”

“Yes.” She nodded.

She looked at Nigel. “Aren't you going to introduce us?” Babette asked eagerly.

“Oh, where are my manners. Babette, meet Nigel Clark.”

The two shook hands.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Henderson.”

“Please call me Babette.” She grinned.

They stepped up to the maître d'. “Name please.”

“Nigel Clark.”

He checked the book. “Yes, sir. Your table will be ready momentarily.”

“Thank you.”

“That gives us a little time to powder our noses.” Babette smiled.

“Sure.”

“I'll only be a minute,” Gabby said.

“I'll be here.” He smiled.

Gabby and Babette went to the ladies' room. Gabby wondered what Babette wanted and didn't waste time asking. “So what's going on, Babette?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. The last time I saw your mother she mentioned something about Terrence Talbot.”

“I'm not seeing Terrence, I can assure you.”

“Good. If there was anyone who missed his calling as an anesthesiologist it was him. The man is mind-numbing.”

Gabby snickered. “If I didn't know any better I'd say you were talking from experience.”

Babette had been through one of the more contentious society divorces several years back. Her handpicked husband Trip Collins was a philanderer, and the last straw came when he bedded one of their daughter's friends.

Babette dabbed her face with powder. “I made the mistake of dating him when he was in between wife number five and six.” She closed her compact. “It was just after Trip and I divorced and I had something to prove.”

“I see.” Gabby was a little taken aback by her candor.

“If you think talking to him is like watching paint dry, you're lucky that's all you know.”

“Wow.” Gabby retouched her lipstick.

“So Nigel, he's quite a looker.”

“Yes.”

“Good for you.”

“Thanks.” She paused. “So you and Ryan are together?”

“No. We're just friends having a nice night out. Frankly, I think I'm Ryan's beard, only he doesn't know it or hasn't admitted it to himself yet.”

“Bill always thought he swung both ways.”

“He did? I'm surprised he never said anything.”

“As long as he could ride a horse and play polo, Bill could have cared less if he swung sideways.”

Babette laughed. “I guess we'd better get you back to your date.”

They walked out of the ladies' room to a waiting Nigel.

“You two enjoy your dinner. It was nice meeting you, Nigel. I hope I see you again.” She shook his hand.

“Thank you. I think that would be nice.”

Babette walked back to her table.

“I can show you to your table now,” the maître d' said.

“Thank you.”

They followed him to a table, where he seated Gabby. “The waiter will be over to take your drink order.”

“Thank you.” Gabby smiled at him.

“So are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Gabby said coyly.

“What went on in the ladies' room?”

“Nothing, just a little girl talk, that's all.”

“Are you sure? She is from your world and I thought she might have said something.”

“She did say something.”

“What?”

“Basically it was the equivalent of go for it.” She chuckled.

“Is that right?”

“Yes. She thinks you're cute.”

“She does?”

“Yes, and she's right.”

“Well, your opinion is the only one that counts with me.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“You're not worried she's going to run off and tell your mother or her mother?”

“No. We've both been burned by the society setup, so it's live and let live.”

Nigel raised his water glass. “Here's to that philosophy.”

She raised her glass to toast. “Cheers.”

* * *

On the other side of town, exhausted and still a bit agitated, Lauren left her office and met Randy at the restaurant. Together they went shopping for the ingredients to make shrimp and chicken
paella.
Unlike Alicia, Lauren was not the domestic type. Shopping for her consisted of visits to various department stores and boutiques. She barely knew what the inside of Cristedes looked like, let alone the various food shops of Chelsea. However, Randy made shopping fun as he juggled bell peppers in the produce aisle and playfully chased her with prawns at the local fishmonger's. His levity lifted her mood.

Once they arrived at his apartment, Lauren relaxed with a glass of wine while Randy got dinner underway. Lauren toured his spacious two-bedroom apartment with its oak floors, custom-designed bathroom and gourmet kitchen with all stainless steel appliances. Randy's apartment was impressive, and so was the view.

“I love your place. You've got a great view.”

“Thanks,” he called from the kitchen. “I like it here.”

Lauren looked down to the street at all the couples walking by. “The neighborhood is colorful.”

He laughed. “It certainly keeps things interesting.”

She walked to the kitchen. “I have to ask.”

“You want to know why a straight guy would live down here.”

“Now that you said it out loud, I feel bad for thinking it.”

“That's okay. You're not the first to wonder.” He chopped up the bell peppers. “I like it here. The people are nice, they look out for you and if I ever run out of an ingredient I have a better than 95 percent shot that someone in the building has it.”

She couldn't help but laugh. She took a whiff. “Oh wow, that smells amazing. Can I help you with anything?”

“As a matter of fact, if you would, please stir this while I add the other ingredients.”

“Sure.” She took the spoon.

Randy added the rice, shrimp, bell peppers, roasted red bell peppers, and olives. “Now you just keep stirring.”

“Okay.”

Randy poured a glass of wine.

Lauren's arm got tired. “How long am I supposed to stir?”

“Twenty-five minutes.”

“What?”

He started laughing. “You can stop stirring.” He adjusted the flame on the stove. “I just have to keep an eye on it.”

“Good. I thought my arm was going to fall off.”

“I'm sorry.” He kissed her shoulder. “Does that help?”

“A little,” she said coyly.

“Okay.” When he lightly kissed her on her neck, Lauren felt her knees buckle a little. “How was that?”

“That was a little better.”

He caressed her cheek, then lightly touched her lips with his. A shiver went down her spine. Soon the two of them were pressed together against the counter, kissing fervently. Clothes were beginning to be peeled off when Lauren stopped suddenly.

“We can't do this.”

“Why?”

“You're cooking dinner, and even though I don't cook, I know you have to watch rice.”

He went to the stove, turned off the burner and covered the pot.