corner?”
“Oh, of course, Miss Radcliffe. Blue tie in the corner.”
Cynthia felt her throat begin to tighten. “Oh, no no no no no no!”
“Printer’s joke, Miss Radcliffe.”
She swallowed hard and tried to make a quick recovery. “Oh. How cute. Well, that’s all for now, I guess. I’ll send James down to pick them up, if I can’t get there myself later.” The Calvins’ butler had agreed to help with the party, though he hadnot seemed enthusiastic.
“That’ll be fine, Miss Radcliffe. Thank you.”
Cynthia hung up and took a deep breath.
This event has certainly grown
. She thought back to her first vision for celebrating Zackery’s birthday: an intimate dinner party for eight or ten, to include just a few of his key business associates and club members.
But then she’d thought better of the idea—until she could afford to move into a better condo.
I know exactly what I want
. The payments would be steep, but well worth it to establish herself in the right kind of neighborhood and create a space suitable for entertaining. She needed a perfect setting for memorable evenings, the kind where people went home talking about what a great time they had, and what a great hostess she was. She would have the parties catered, of course. But that would have to wait until cash flow improved. She sighed.
Then again, if I play my cards right, I won’t need the new condo
.
Zackery already had the perfect location for any and all entertaining. The family estate known as Calma had it all: his own charming cottage; the grand main house; the beautifully tended grounds; the patio overlooking the ocean. Her plan had come together when she’d had the brilliant idea of making his party a museum benefit. This had enabled her to approach Joseph about the use of the house and grounds, and to earn a gold star for placing Calvin philanthropy in the limelight—while honoring Joseph’s only son. Immediately, the party size had grown well beyond the bounds of intimacy.
Have I bitten off more than I can chew? I ordered 500 invitations. Two hundred are on the list so far… better invite about that many again… all the club members are already
invited and, of course, the other major charities have been notified
.
She sat quietly for a moment, and allowed herself to daydream about the big event. The food would be fantastic, the flowers gorgeous, the tent sparkling with tiny lights. She would wear
the
dress—just on the point of being too risqué for the Santa Barbara intelligencia, but tasteful enough that no one would be able to comment. The men would love it; the women would hate themselves.
Zackery will spend the evening trying to concentrate on his guests, but unable to keep his eyes—or his thoughts—off me. I’ll present him with some stupendous gift in front of all his family and friends. We’ll be dancing to the sounds of—
“Oh, the music! I never got an answer from the orchestra!” She picked up the phone and began dialing frantically. “Oh, no, that’s right, I asked James to call them for me, and he said he was already taking care of that.” She hung up and drew another deep breath.
Sometimes I’m smarter than I give myself credit for
.
She looked at the kitchen counter, where she’d tossed today’s edition of the
Santa Barbara Register
. At one time, newspapers hadn’t held the slightest interest. But then she’d discovered the society pages—why had no one ever told her? Now she’d become a devotee.
She stood, opened the fridge and pulled out a chilled bottle of
Frappuccino
—the brand new coffee drink Starbucks had just introduced—opened it and took a first delicious sip. Grabbing the paper, she sat at her kitchen table and opened the paper to the Julia Cavendish column. Scanning details of a Charity League—at which local artists had donated their work—to make sure she was familiar with all the names, she placed herfingernail on the page when she spotted a new one.
“Zelda
“Oh, of course, Miss Radcliffe. Blue tie in the corner.”
Cynthia felt her throat begin to tighten. “Oh, no no no no no no!”
“Printer’s joke, Miss Radcliffe.”
She swallowed hard and tried to make a quick recovery. “Oh. How cute. Well, that’s all for now, I guess. I’ll send James down to pick them up, if I can’t get there myself later.” The Calvins’ butler had agreed to help with the party, though he hadnot seemed enthusiastic.
“That’ll be fine, Miss Radcliffe. Thank you.”
Cynthia hung up and took a deep breath.
This event has certainly grown
. She thought back to her first vision for celebrating Zackery’s birthday: an intimate dinner party for eight or ten, to include just a few of his key business associates and club members.
But then she’d thought better of the idea—until she could afford to move into a better condo.
I know exactly what I want
. The payments would be steep, but well worth it to establish herself in the right kind of neighborhood and create a space suitable for entertaining. She needed a perfect setting for memorable evenings, the kind where people went home talking about what a great time they had, and what a great hostess she was. She would have the parties catered, of course. But that would have to wait until cash flow improved. She sighed.
Then again, if I play my cards right, I won’t need the new condo
.
Zackery already had the perfect location for any and all entertaining. The family estate known as Calma had it all: his own charming cottage; the grand main house; the beautifully tended grounds; the patio overlooking the ocean. Her plan had come together when she’d had the brilliant idea of making his party a museum benefit. This had enabled her to approach Joseph about the use of the house and grounds, and to earn a gold star for placing Calvin philanthropy in the limelight—while honoring Joseph’s only son. Immediately, the party size had grown well beyond the bounds of intimacy.
Have I bitten off more than I can chew? I ordered 500 invitations. Two hundred are on the list so far… better invite about that many again… all the club members are already
invited and, of course, the other major charities have been notified
.
She sat quietly for a moment, and allowed herself to daydream about the big event. The food would be fantastic, the flowers gorgeous, the tent sparkling with tiny lights. She would wear
the
dress—just on the point of being too risqué for the Santa Barbara intelligencia, but tasteful enough that no one would be able to comment. The men would love it; the women would hate themselves.
Zackery will spend the evening trying to concentrate on his guests, but unable to keep his eyes—or his thoughts—off me. I’ll present him with some stupendous gift in front of all his family and friends. We’ll be dancing to the sounds of—
“Oh, the music! I never got an answer from the orchestra!” She picked up the phone and began dialing frantically. “Oh, no, that’s right, I asked James to call them for me, and he said he was already taking care of that.” She hung up and drew another deep breath.
Sometimes I’m smarter than I give myself credit for
.
She looked at the kitchen counter, where she’d tossed today’s edition of the
Santa Barbara Register
. At one time, newspapers hadn’t held the slightest interest. But then she’d discovered the society pages—why had no one ever told her? Now she’d become a devotee.
She stood, opened the fridge and pulled out a chilled bottle of
Frappuccino
—the brand new coffee drink Starbucks had just introduced—opened it and took a first delicious sip. Grabbing the paper, she sat at her kitchen table and opened the paper to the Julia Cavendish column. Scanning details of a Charity League—at which local artists had donated their work—to make sure she was familiar with all the names, she placed herfingernail on the page when she spotted a new one.
“Zelda
Similar Books
