Love in New York ; Cherish My Heart Page 5

  “Look over there.” Jessica indicated a new room setup. André had focused on the customers and Susan, who appeared to be handling two of them at the current time.

  The mock-ups Susan had reset were for a teen’s bedroom and a nursery. Both had people in them, opening drawers and checking out the walls, and one teen was listening to the music coming from an iPhone connected to personal speakers. From the look on the teenager’s face and the enthusiasm she exhibited to her parents, she wanted that room.

  Susan glanced in his direction, then looked back and smiled. André smiled too, but his eyes weren’t on the newly designed rooms.

  * * *

  The store restaurant had both an outside entrance and one that led into the main retail floor. Susan sat, facing the outside. Minette was expected at any moment. Her father, Jerome, was coming to New York. That phone call yesterday morning had been from him, and in between the minutes Susan wasn’t thinking of André, Jerome’s conversation was on her mind.

  The waiter brought her a drink, and Minette slid into the seat opposite Susan’s.

  “Is that for me?” she asked. “I’ve had a long day and I’m stressed.”

  Susan passed her the glass of white wine. She knew the day was about to get worse. “I’ll have another,” she told the waiter, who smiled. They ordered quickly. Apparently Minette was familiar with the restaurant. She didn’t consult the menu, but told the waiter exactly what she wanted. Susan agreed to the same meal.

  “What happened to make the day long?” Susan asked.

  Minette took a drink and set the glass on the table. “Everything that could go wrong today went wrong.” She sat up in the booth and pushed her hand through her hair. Minette was a web designer for a major media corporation. Looking up, she said, “We were offline for three hours. We couldn’t keep up with the calls or the angry threats that people will unsubscribe. You’d have thought the world was ending.”

  Susan laughed and Minette looked at her. “You have to admit, it is kind of funny. People can’t live without their connection to the internet.”

  After a moment, Minette laughed. “So, how was your day?” Her mood changed quickly when she saw the humor of the situation.

  This was her opening. Susan could put if off and wait until after Minette had drank a second glass of wine, but she wasn’t used to beating around the bush.

  “Most of it was fine—much better than yours.” She paused a moment, remembering her encounter with André. Forcing her thoughts back to Minette, Susan lifted her wineglass and took a sip. “I got a call from your father,” she began.

  Minette picked up her glass and then set it down with a thunk.

  “How is he?” she asked, although her tone was tight.

  “In perfect health,” she said.

  “Why did he call?”

  “He’s coming to New York.” Susan took a long breath, as if she was about to plunge into a swimming pool.

  “When?” Minette asked. Her voice was low, barely audible.

  “Three weeks. He’s being honored at the Photography Society Museum of New York. They’re displaying his photos and giving him a banquet. He wants you to come.”

  Minette slouched back against the banquette wall. “I don’t know. We haven’t really communicated in years.”

  “Maybe it’s time,” Susan said.

  Their meals were served. Minette looked at hers, but didn’t touch it. “I can’t eat this,” she said. She slid out of the booth and got up. “I’m sorry, but I need to think about this.”

  Susan twisted in her seat and stood up too. “I understand,” she said. “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll work it out.”

  Minette looked at her as if she believed that she had a friend to help with her pain.

  “Thanks,” Minette said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Susan reseated herself and was about to call the waiter when André appeared, standing next to the seat Minette had vacated.

  “She didn’t like the food,” he commented.

  “That wasn’t it.” Susan stared at the exit where Minette had gone.

  “Is she all right?”

  “I’m not sure.” Susan stared at André for a long time. She wanted to talk to someone. Maybe getting another opinion, a male opinion, might help her get the father and daughter back on track. Unfortunately, Susan didn’t know much about the stake that had driven them apart.

  “André, would you have dinner with me?”

  He took a seat and raised his hands to the table, as if the question had come from the fourth dimension. Susan understood the absurdity of what she’d said.

  “Sorry, I’m a little distracted. Minette didn’t touch her food, but I’m sure the waiter will bring you whatever you want.” She glanced at Minette’s plate.

  “This is fine,” he said, although the waiter appeared, removed Minette’s wineglass and replaced it with a glass of water for André. After acknowledging the waiter, André looked at Susan. “Do you want to go somewhere else?”

  She shook her head. To prove it, she lifted her fork and took a bite of the fish on her plate. André waited. She liked that he didn’t push her or prompt her to begin. He was giving her time to gather her thoughts and begin when she wanted to.

  “The woman who left is Minette Marchand. I met her father in Italy and he taught me to use my camera.”

  André had a reaction, but Susan couldn’t define it.

  “So he was the one who gave you the camera?”

  “I bought the camera. It was a gift to myself. Jerome gave me the camera bag.”

  “That’s a very expensive camera.”

  “We’re not talking about the camera.”

  André covered himself by taking a bite of his food.

  “Minette and her father are estranged,” Susan began. “I don’t know much about what caused the riff. Jerome is a famous photographer.”

  “I recognize his name,” André said.

  “He has a studio full of photos of his daughter and he talks about her all the time.”

  “So what’s the problem?” André sipped his drink.

  “I just told her Jerome is coming to New York in three weeks.”

  “Photo show at the gallery?”

  Susan’s eyes opened wide. “You know about it?”

  “Vaguely. Because of the store’s contributions, we get invitations to a lot of events. One was lying in the camera department as I passed it a week ago. It’s apparently a huge event.”

  “I’m sure that’s why Jerome agreed to return.”

  “That and Minette,” André supplied.

  “That and Minette,” Susan repeated, bobbing her head up and down.

  For several moments, they ate in silence. André was the first to break the silence.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll tell her that I will go to the banquet for support. If she wants to leave, I’ll be with her.”

  “You’ve already mentioned this to her father?”

  “I have.”

  “Would you like some moral support?”

  Susan’s eyes flashed and her stomach suddenly turned over. How was she to answer that? It was a sudden and unexpected offer. And getting involved, even for an altruistic reason, with André Thorn, was not a good idea. Her brain knew that, but her heart didn’t, and in this situation, it appeared her brain was overruled.

  “Do you mean go with you?”

  “Yes,” he said. “That is if you don’t already have a date.”

  She didn’t. Since she’d been in the city, she’d had very few instances to meet men, although she’d been on a few dates that proved fruitless for a sustaining relationship.

  “Well?” André prompted.

  “Isn’t there some unwritten rule about employee relationships?”
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  He laughed. “I make the rules and there’s nothing of that sort. We abolished it two centuries ago.”

  Susan had been looking for any reason not to go with him, even if she wanted to, but the straw she grasped was skillfully removed from her reach.

  “So, is it a date?” he asked.

  “Not a date,” she said. “I’m not ready to date the owner of the House of Thorn. We can be two people going to the same event, to support a father and daughter.”

  “I’ll take that,” he said. “But before the banquet, we should discuss how we’re planning to get Minette and her father together. We can do it over dinner tomorrow night.”

  If that wasn’t a line, Susan had never heard one. Nevertheless, she greed to have dinner with him, but only for the sake of Minette and Jerome, whom she would tell owed her big-time.

  Chapter 4

  The two women stood back, each with folded arms, as they surveyed their latest furniture setup. This time it was a dining room. The lighting was perfect, with a crystal chandelier hanging over the polished table that had been staged for the upcoming summer sale. They’d set the room up using a whimsical fantasy scene that coordinated with one of the hottest plays on Broadway.

  A few people had stopped and looked at it while they had placed the elaborate centerpiece on the polished surface.

  “What do you think?” Susan asked Jessica.

  The head of the department looked over the room. Turning to Susan, she smiled. “I love it.”

  “Do you think it will draw people to it?”

  “Without a doubt,” Jessica whispered, glancing at the woman who was walking away, but had her head turned toward the setting.

  Susan smiled. She remembered her first encounter with Jessica. The woman had suppressed her feelings about the arrangement that Susan and André had put together, but now the two had become fast friends.

  “It just needs one more thing,” Susan said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I’ll be right back.” Susan started walking. “I need the military sale sign.”

  A special discount was being offered to military families who bought the dining room set. Jessica nodded and turned back for another look. Susan headed for the printing area, at the back of the store. The printers were taxed with making all of the signs for the store.

  Susan was on her way back to the furniture department when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

  “Marcia.”

  No, not her name. Not her current name, but her real name. The one that was on her original birth certificate. She hadn’t answered to it in over two years. She had a new birth certificate, reflecting her new name, the one she’d legally changed it to.

  The woman who had called her caught up with her.

  “I thought that was you. What are you doing here?”

  It was Constance Malloy—Connie for short—someone from Susan’s hometown of Mountainview, Montana. What had brought her from the mountains, all the way to New York?

  Stunned, all Susan said was “Connie.” The single word came out so low, Susan wasn’t sure she could be heard.

  Connie gave her a big hug and stepped back. “I’m sure you’re the last person on the planet I expected to find in New York.”

  “What are you doing here?” Susan asked in awe. Her voice still sounded strained.

  “My daughter. You remember Penny?”

  The question sounded more like a statement. Susan could hear the pride in her voice.

  “Well, she starts Columbia in the fall. She’s taking a summer course and getting settled in. We’re here helping her get everything she needs.”

  That’s when Susan recognized the bags with the House of Thorn logo on them in Connie’s hands. Penny was of college age. Susan hadn’t seen her in years. She still pictured the little girl with long braids, running up the driveway across from Susan’s house when she got off the school bus.

  “She’s really taking to the city well. I haven’t seen her so happy.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Susan said, not matching the motherly pride in Connie’s voice. “Is she with you?” Susan looked over Connie’s shoulder, but didn’t see Penny.

  “She’s at an orientation and getting to know her new situation. I thought it best to give her time.”

  Connie didn’t use the air quotes on the word, but it was apparent that she emphasized her understanding of a daughter’s need to expand her horizons. Susan wasn’t that much older than Penny, but she’d gone through the same phase. It had been a difficult parent-daughter situation, but thankfully both she and her parents had come through it successfully.

  Noticing the sign in Susan’s hand, Connie asked, “Do you work here?”

  Susan glanced at the sign. “In the furniture department. I doubt Penny needs any of this.”

  Connie shook her head. “Just sheets, towels, linens.” She raised and lowered her hands, showing the bags she was holding.

  “I have to go, but we should get together for dinner while I’m here. I’m sure Penny would love to see you. We’re staying at the Elmwood Hotel on Central Park West.”

  Susan nodded. She knew it.

  “We’ll be here until the weekend. Then Frank and I have to go back home. How about tomorrow night?”

  “I’m not sure I can make it,” Susan said. She liked Connie and Frank, and she’d love to see Penny again, but she felt wary. Suddenly she was homesick. She’d been that way when she had initially left Mountainview, but seeing someone from home brought all the feelings of loneliness and separation back.

  “If you change your mind, we’ll be having dinner at six. The hotel has a wonderful restaurant. Hopefully we’ll see you there.” Connie smiled. “I’d better be off now. Good seeing you.”

  She hugged Susan and headed toward the escalator. Before reaching it, she turned back. “Marcia,” she called. “I’ll tell your mom how well the city seems to agree with you when I see her.”

  Susan smiled and waved as Connie stepped onto the escalator. For a moment, she just stood there, looking after her friend. Then, remembering the sign in her hand, she turned toward the dining room setup.

  André stood ten feet away from her. She froze in place, although heat that was hot enough to melt marble burned through her body. How long had he been there? Did he hear Connie call her Marcia? Would it mean anything to him? At the wedding, when he’d first seen her, she had still been known as Marcia. Susan hadn’t been born yet. But Marcia wasn’t technically dead. Would she resurrect memories that could destroy everything Susan had built?

  * * *

  It was the third outfit Susan had discarded. One was too low in the front. One was too tight around her waist, and the last one, the one she had on now, felt too formal. She didn’t know where they were going, and that made it harder to decide on what to wear. She didn’t want her dress to look like a date outfit. She didn’t want to encourage André or project that this was anything more than a meeting to discuss people she cared about.

  Maybe earrings and a necklace would make it more to her liking. Susan raced to the dresser and sorted through several pairs of earrings until she found the pearl teardrops her father had given her five years ago, for her birthday. She put them through her pierced ears and added the pearl necklace with a single teardrop in the center. This made it look more formal, she thought and reached to remove the necklace when the doorbell rang.

  Checking her watch, she wondered who could be at the door. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She and André had agreed to meet at a restaurant in the Village. They wanted to be away from the theater crowds. After moving quickly from her bedroom to the front door, she checked the peephole, jumping back when the fish-eye lens showed a distorted image of André.

  What was he doing here? she asked herself. How could he even be at her door? She’d never given him her address. Then she rea
lized he’d have access to all personnel records.

  Opening the door a crack, she said, “André, weren’t we supposed to meet at the restaurant?”

  “Change of plans,” he said, as if there was a conspiracy in tow.

  Susan opened the door farther and he came inside.

  “I apologize for not communicating that I would meet you here. I brought dinner.”

  He held up a large shopping bag with a Chinese-food logo on the side.

  “I dressed up for Chinese food?” she asked sarcastically.

  “Don’t you like Chinese food?” His brows raised in question.

  “It’s one of my favorites, but I assumed we’d be going to a restaurant. I could have made my dinner here and spoken to you on the phone.”

  “Well, as long as I’m here and we have food, let’s talk.”

  What could she do? He was here, bigger than life. He was dressed in a dark suit with a bright white shirt, accented by a red-and-white-striped tie and the dark tan of his skin. Susan spread her hands in agreement. She had no other choice.

  “What’s in the bag?” she asked.

  “I’ll show you.” He walked away from her then, heading toward and finding the kitchen, where he set down the bag and began unloading its contents. The apartment was large by New York standards, and the space was open, making it easy to access any of the rooms. Setting a bottle of wine on the counter, he looked at her. “Wineglasses,” he said.

  Susan was flustered. This was her apartment, her kitchen, yet André had walked in and taken over as if he owned the place.

  “You look nice, by the way,” he said, taking her anger away. “I like the shoes.” His eyes looked her up and down.

  Susan glanced at her feet. She wasn’t wearing shoes. Quickly she padded to her bedroom and grabbed a pair of high-heeled sandals that she rarely wore. When she got back, André had two plates on the counter and was ladling fried rice onto them.

  “What would you like? I bought a variety of dishes, since I didn’t know what your favorite was.”