“Really? Well, perhaps Catherine was trying to impress me. You know Catherine! She likes everyone to think she knows everyone!”
It didn’t sound like Cathy and Vivian were close friends at all. And, if they weren’t, Vivian probably knew nothing about Elise’s past friendship with Cathy. Several years ago, after Tom found several letters from her encouraging Elise to leave him, he’d contacted Cathy and rather forcefully severed all contact between her and Elise. He had no clue how or when Elise and Cathy met. It'd been quite a shock to him to find out that they knew each other. He could only guess why Elise kept the relationship a secret. Vivian cleared her throat. Trying to smile, Tom asked, “So, how is Cathy?”
“According to her,” Vivian said, slightly sarcastically, “she leads a perfectly charmed life. Catherine's married to a prominent New York plastic surgeon, Elrich Connors. They're the toast of the town. I see them whenever I'm in New York. They have fabulous parties!” Vivian winked, laughing.
Tom, though, knew from Cathy's letters to Elise that she was in a loveless marriage, relying on alcohol to dull her pain. She remained married to the ‘dear doctor’ to avoid the shame a divorce would bring to her and her family. Not to mention their prenup that would give a huge sum of money to her husband if they divorced.
“I can’t imagine why Catherine acted as if she knew you so well. But you haven't seen her since you were kids. I was so excited that we had a mutual friend, and it’s not even true. I don't know what game she's playing with me.” Vivian sulked, drew her lips into an ugly frown. Tom guessed from the look on her face that she was planning to get even with Cathy for her deceit. She grinned wickedly. Her mood changed immediately.
Tom drained his brandy snifter. And my sister wonders why I dread these social engagements. Not too hard to figure out. Tom prepared himself for the task of spending the rest of the evening with the self-centered, childish Vivian. I hope I’m up to this!
Vivian blushed. “You must think I’m awful, being upset over something so trivial. I only wanted to be friends with you! I thought having a friend in common would make it much easier. Well, never mind about Catherine. Since she obviously doesn’t know you well, I guess you’ll just have to tell me all about yourself.” Tilting her head slightly, she looked at Tom through her long lashes, her green eyes glistening, a seductive smile on her face.
Oh, great. Now she was flirting with him. Then Tom felt guilty. After all, what did he know about Vivian? She probably was lonely without her husband and friends here. Cassie said he had a bad habit of reading false emotions and traits into people. It ensured that he kept people at a distance. He supposed she was right to some degree; it made it easier to isolate himself. Tom smiled at Vivian and decided to give her another chance. Studying her, he tried to see nothing but the pretty, young woman who was trying very hard to entertain a difficult guest.
“I’m going to check on dinner. I’ll be right back.”
Tom poured another brandy and entertained himself by nosing around the room looking at the Harrisons’ extensive book collection. Vivian returned in a few minutes. Dinner was ready. He followed her to the dining room.
The room was hot and stuffy; beads of sweat gathered on Tom’s brow. Trying to be inconspicuous, he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and loosened his tie. Vivian, the all-seeing, gracious hostess, called for Amos, one of her household staff and the husband to Mannie, to open the window. Tom was moved from his seat in front of the fireplace to the other side of the table. He now faced Jimmy, who beamed at him.
Billy sat to Tom's right. He asked, “Mom, where's Sara? I thought she was eating dinner with us. I have some things to talk to her about.”
“I sent Mannie to get her. She'll be down soon.” Vivian had barely finished her sentence when the door opened, and Sara entered.
“I’m so sorry. I lost track of time. Did I keep you waiting? Oh, hello. You must be Tom Gardner,” she said to Tom’s back as he strained to turn around in the chair which had him trapped in its cushy, velvet embrace.
Quickly standing, almost tipping his chair over, Tom offered Sara his hand and a warm smile. Sara sat down across the table, next to Jimmy. While she told the boys about the trip she had just returned from, Tom took the opportunity to study her. She was in her mid thirties and very beautiful. Her dark, chestnut-brown hair fell in soft curls that framed her face—a stark contrast to her pale complexion. Her eyes were deep violet-blue, fringed with thick, black lashes. Her bright red lips were full, and when she smiled, revealed perfect teeth. Naturally high color on her cheekbones gave her a healthy glow. She radiated a sultry, sensual aura, while maintaining an innocent demeanor. He was immediately drawn to her.
Sara talked animatedly to the boys, her eyes expressive and intense. Her hands were as active as her voice. She excitedly recounted several stories about her travels in the Bahamas. The boys were a captive audience. Tom caught her eye. She blushed, her cheeks turning bright red. Smiling back, she continued talking to Jimmy and Billy, who hung on her every word. Her smile caught Tom off guard. It seemed directed straight at his heart. Pure, innocent, real. He hoped the evening would be long.
Vivian interrupted, ending Sara’s tale about her encounter with a white shark in the Sargasso Sea. “Jimmy and Billy, that’s enough. Sara can talk to you about her trip any time, for heaven's sake. You’re being very rude, monopolizing the conversation. Do stop.”
Jimmy’s face flushed red, Tom was afraid the boy was going to cry. Sara came to his rescue. “Jimmy, we'll go down to the beach tomorrow and have a picnic. I'll tell you all about my trip then.” She winked at Jimmy. “Sound like a good plan?”
He nodded.
“You too, Billy. We’ll even do some fishing.” Both boys agreed, and the awkward moment passed.
For the duration of the dinner, Vivian monopolized the conversation, talking about her remodeling plans for their New York brownstone, a property recently purchased by her husband. Vivian and her boys would stay here at the beach house until the remodeling was complete, probably for the rest of the winter. Sara, who was a teacher, had recently quit her job at a small private school and would be staying here to tutor the two boys. Tom’s mood quickly elevated.
While Vivian's high-pitched voice droned on and on about fabrics and wallpaper, name dropping as often as possible about her interior designers, Tom listened quietly, nodding from time to time, saying “sounds great, very nice, impressive, etc.” He caught Sara's eye and grinned. She returned his look with a knowing smile, silently toasting him with her glass. Vivian never noticed, continuing her diatribe, thrilled at having her rightful place as the center of attention.
***
Mannie prepared a delectable meal—Cornish game hens stuffed with wild rice and mushrooms; baby asparagus spears in a light wine sauce with slivered almonds; buttered, new potatoes and a fresh spinach salad with raspberry vinaigrette dressing. After dinner, they returned to the drawing room where Amos served fresh peach pie and french vanilla ice cream. Giant mugs of strong, dark-roasted coffee steamed on the side table with an array of flavored creams and honeys. They savored the desert, eating the warm, cinnamon spiced fruit pie slowly, sipping coffee and making small talk.
After dessert, Amos poured each of the adults a glass of cognac, part of a private reserve that Vivian’s husband imported from France. “We're so spoiled,” Vivian purred as she sat down next to Tom on the sofa.
“Vivian, what all does your husband import?” Tom asked, curious and unable to let the mention of William Harrison’s business pass by.
“Almost anything you can think of: antiques, artwork, automobiles, textiles, gemstones. He imports artwork for museums and private collectors, too. His great-grandfather started the business, over the years building a large and varied clientele for his merchandise.” She glanced at Tom to make sure he was paying attention to her. “William became vice president of the corporation as soon as he graduated from Harvard. When his father died two years ago,