Coffee Sonata (28 page)

The woman from the day spa had just left. When Vivian had called earlier in the day, desperate since she couldn’t see well enough to put on makeup or do her own hair, a young woman had promised to arrive in plenty of time to help her get ready.

Vivian had asked the hairdresser to describe the result, and according to her, Vivian’s hair was piled up in a loose bun, with long, curling tresses framing her face. “Like a Greek goddess, ma’am,” she’d enthused. “And I used light pastels for your makeup to fit the pale pink dress and shawl. You look beautiful, ma’am.” Tears nearly destroyed Vivian’s makeup when the hairdresser also offered to walk Perry and Mason.

Now Vivian reached for her shawl and wrapped it around her. Narrowing her eyes, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. She could make out only the pink color of her dress and the light spot that was her hair. She’d have to trust the hairdresser regarding her appearance.

The doorbell chimed and Vivian flinched, startled. Since neither of the dogs barked, she figured it was Mike. “Coming,” she called and, holding on to her shawl and purse with one hand, she fumbled for the doorknob.

After a brief silence Vivian heard Mike murmur, “Oh, God, you’re beautiful, Vivian.”

“Thank you, Mike. Come in for a second.” Vivian wanted to force her eyes to let her see Mike this evening. She could faintly smell sandalwood and something else.
Soap?
“Let me look at you.” She could make out a lean, dark form and the oval, pale shape of Mike’s face. “Let me guess.” She smiled and ran her hand down Mike’s side. “A tuxedo? How perfect.”

“You have to guess?” Mike sounded choked. “Oh, Vivi. That bad?” She cupped Vivian’s cheeks. “Are you sure you’ll be able to go?”

“Very sure. You’ll be there with me. Right?”

“Right.”

“Then let’s be off. I know you drove here in your little car, but I figured we’d arrive in style.”

“Oh, yeah?” It was clear that Mike intended to help keep the good mood going.

“Yes, I’ve ordered a stretch limo. There might be a bit of a crowd, and I thought—why disappoint them. They expect a person like me to arrive appropriately.”

“That’s great. I’ll sit back and enjoy it. This’ll be my first ride in a limo, stretch or otherwise.”

“Really?” Vivian raised an eyebrow. “And your prom?”

“I didn’t go to the prom.” Her voice gave nothing away, but Vivian knew something heartbreaking lurked behind the matter-of-fact answer.

“Neither did I,” she said without too much inflection. “I was already in New York by then, under the care of Malcolm and his wife. I actually never graduated from high school. They put me to work learning other things, such as singing and piano lessons, music history, et cetera.” She reached for Mike and hugged her close. “And if you want to tell me, I’ll ask again, another day, why you didn’t go to the prom.”

“Okay.”

Another knock on the door announced the limo driver, who guided them to a long white car and held open the door.

Mike sat quietly next to Vivian in the backseat as the driver maneuvered through the dunes toward the main road leading into the center of East Quay.

Vivian closed her eyes and reached for Mike’s hand. “This is going to be difficult. I don’t want anyone to realize I can’t make out their faces. Fortunately, I haven’t met anyone, except you, Eryn, and Manon, since I got back. I mean, in person. If I run into an old acquaintance, they’ll simply figure I don’t recognize them because it’s been so long. Don’t you think?”

“Yes. And I’ll be your escort, so don’t let go of my arm too long.”

“I won’t.” Vivian hesitated. “You realize showing up with me like this, especially dressed the way you are, will create quite the buzz.”

“I know.”

Vivian couldn’t judge from Mike’s calm tone what she was thinking. “It might have a greater impact than we expect,
cara
.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Mike’s voice changed from noncommittal to stubborn. “You can never affect public opinion. People create their own image of you, no matter what. And if they have opinions about us, they’ll think about you more than me. You’re the celebrity. Perhaps you’re the one who should think twice about arriving with me. It’s pretty obvious that I’m your date.”

Vivian squeezed Mike’s hand. “You are. And if anyone has a problem with that, so be it. I don’t care.” She really didn’t. Her professional life lay in its death throes, as far as she was concerned.

Showing up on the arm of a gorgeous young woman in a tuxedo was like going out with a bang.
Just my style.
Vivian gave a wry smile.
That’ll give the paparazzi something to chew on.
But her spiteful thoughts left as quickly as they came. She needed Mike with her for many, very personal reasons. Her palm became sweaty and she shuddered.

Mike released her hand but didn’t let go completely. Instead she wiped Vivian’s palm on her pants leg and held it again. “You’ll be fine. I’ll be close all evening. Don’t worry.”

It was amazing to feel a flood of relief drown out the worries, at least for now. Vivian leaned her head on Mike’s shoulder for a few seconds, then straightened up. “You’re my strength. I’ll be all right.”

The limousine drove up to the semicircular path in front of the city hall. “We’re here,” Mike said. “Look at that huge crowd. Damn, and at least four media vans.”

“Don’t let it bother you. We walk in together, heads high.” Vivian was determined to pass this ordeal with her chin up. “Let them stare. Wave to the crowd and ignore the press for now.”

Mike pressed her lips quickly against Vivian’s cheek. “Okay.”

After the driver opened the door, Mike stepped out first. Vivian reached for Mike’s hand and followed her. Effortlessly, she slipped into her prima donna role and exited the car.

*

Mike took her cue from Vivian, who’d had years of publicity and was oblivious to the limelight. Managing to smile and offer Vivian her arm, she knew she looked handsome in the tux. She had put on some neutral makeup and even used a little blush so she wouldn’t look so pale. Combing her unruly hair back with a wet-look gel, she had fashioned a short, tight ponytail, tucked into the nape of her neck. She had been surprised to see that the look brought out her face in a new, revealing way that, at first, made her feel exposed and quite naked. Still, it was the only hairdo that went well with the tux.

Vivian’s hand rested in the bend of Mike’s arm, and with the other she waved to the crowd that was chanting her name.
You’d think she was a rock star returning to her roots.
Mike wanted to scoff, but truthfully she was utterly proud of Vivian and thought she deserved the positive attention.

A reporter pushed his upper body over the railing put up by the police. “Ms. Harding! Who’s your date? This your new love?”

Mike went rigid but kept walking.

“She’s my friend, thank you,” Vivian called back as they made their way up the red carpet.

Friend. Yeah, that’s it. That’s where we’re heading eventually. But there was nothing friendly in how she responded to me yesterday.

They strolled among the photo flashes and waving people. Finally they reached the tall double doors and made it through the entry rituals.

“That went well,” Vivian whispered as they made their way through the crowd in the hallway. “Let’s go find out where we’re supposed to sit.”

“Okay.” Mike half expected Vivian to let go of her arm now, but instead she walked closer and held on harder. “I have you.” Mike shivered at her own words and remembered when she’d uttered them yesterday. Then, a sweat-soaked Vivian had embraced her, trembled in Mike’s arms after coming so hard it nearly drove Mike to a rare orgasm as well.

“Yes, thank heavens, you do.” Vivian took a step closer, and Mike knew no one would believe she wasn’t merely a friendly companion, but Vivian’s date.

When they stopped at the seating chart, displayed on a painter’s easel, Mike scanned it and found Vivian’s name. To her relief, someone had written “guest” on the seat next to her. Mike guessed Manon or Marjorie had pulled some strings. Glancing at the other names, she noticed both Manon and Eryn were at the head table as well.

Inside the room filled with small groups of people chatting quietly, Mike noticed Eryn and Manon farther in. Glad to spot them, she patted Vivian’s hand. “Want to go over and talk to Manon and Eryn?”

“Yes, let’s do that. Manon should be at the head table also.”

“She is. And Eryn too, right across from her.”

Mike guided Vivian carefully among the round tables. Almost there, Mike saw the expressions on Manon’s and Eryn’s faces. “They don’t look too happy,” she murmured to Vivian. “In fact, they look furious. And there’s a man there, next to Manon.”

“What’s happened now?” Vivian squeezed Mike’s arm as they halted.

“Hello, there,” Mike said, and two heads snapped in her direction.

“Mike! You look…stunning!”

“Thank you. You look wonderful. What a lovely dress.” Mike had a chance to study the other couple while Manon and Vivian exchanged pleasantries. Eryn looked pale, with an unusual darkness in the way she looked at them.

“This is Dustin, my date for tonight.”

For tonight? Does she mean that literally, or is he her current lover? Either way, that gossip columnist will have a field day if she’s here.
Mike shook hands with Dustin, who looked like a nice man, and then stepped closer and lowered her voice. “You okay, Eryn?”

Eryn sipped from her glass of champagne. “Yes.” The clipped tone suggested otherwise. “Damn, this pink stuff is too sweet, but it was this or something nonalcoholic. I’d hoped for a beer, but they don’t serve that till after dinner.”

“I can tell something’s wrong, but we can’t talk about it here.” Mike tried to convey her sympathy. “If you haven’t eaten recently you shouldn’t down that champagne too fast.”

“Yes. I know. I’ll be careful.” Despite her words she sipped the champagne again. “We can talk later. Too late, maybe.”

That’s when Mike knew Eryn was on the verge of tears.
I bet this has everything to do with Manon.
Eryn was clinging to a drink, and Manon was animated and nodding with a brilliant smile to people in passing.
Something went down just before we came. Something really bad.

“I see we’re at the same table,” Vivian said. “Mrs. Dodd Endicott is so kind to include Mike and me.”

“Of course, you’re a guest of honor. We truly appreciate your contribution to our fund-raiser. The hospital wing is one of Marjorie’s pet projects, and she knows how much your participation will mean.”

“Then I’m honored.” Vivian reached out to Mike. “And glad she let me bring a guest too. I know this is East Quay’s biggest event of the year.”

“I’m not so sure,” Manon said. “The foundation’s event may be the most talked about.” She gestured toward Vivian. “Because of you, of course.”

Mike couldn’t judge if Manon’s eyes were darker than usual. Manon wore her official persona like a layer of cellophane, impenetrable and almost invisible. This woman was light years from the one who’d played the keyboard in her basement only yesterday.

“All right,” Vivian conceded. “But where’s Mrs. Dodd Endicott? Does she plan to make a spectacular entrance once we’re seated?”

This remark elicited a giggle from Eryn. “Like joining us on a trapeze swinging down from the rafters, huh? I wouldn’t put that past her. She’s got more energy than all of us put together.”

Manon gave Eryn a worried look and stepped closer. In response, Eryn walked to Vivian’s other side and placed her hand on her arm. “I really have no idea, but I can’t imagine the poor woman standing by the door shaking everyone’s hand. At least a hundred and fifty people are invited.”

Mike noticed a flame ignite in Manon’s eyes at Eryn’s obvious display. “More. Almost two hundred,” Manon said through clenched teeth. “It’s time to sit down. I’ll just go have a word with the organizers first. Dustin, will you go with me?”

“Of course.” The man sounded relieved to get out of a potentially explosive situation.

“Now, then.” Vivian turned toward Eryn. “What’s up?”

“Not now,” Eryn replied, and paled again.

“Not in detail, no,” Vivian insisted. “But when you left Mike’s yesterday with Manon, everything was fine. Today you can cut the atmosphere with a knife.” She placed her hand on Eryn’s arm with the barest hint of fumbling. “Did you argue?”

Eryn swallowed hard, and Mike ached for her friend when she saw how hard Eryn clutched her champagne glass. “You saw,” she managed. “Him.”

“Her escort.” Vivian nodded. “Yes. That’s her front. She usually brings an escort to large functions like these. She’s done that for years. It took me a while to figure out that they were pretend.”

Mike stared at Vivian, who was talking so casually about Manon’s current lover.
Pretend?
“What do you mean?”

“Dustin is a nice, polite young man.” Vivian lowered her voice to an almost inaudible murmur. “Manon always uses a professional, aboveboard escort service.”

Mike felt floored. She’d heard of such a service but assumed it had to do with sex; yet somehow she knew no sex was involved in Manon’s case. Mike made sure nobody was within earshot before speaking. “So Dustin’s for hire? Then,” she turned to Eryn, “you don’t have to be jealous.”