Chapter 3
“Everything alright, Lil?” Rose’s forehead knotted in concern as Lily took off her coat and settled into her seat.
“No problems, my friends. I just needed a little fresh air. What are you talking about?” Lily put her napkin on her lap and dug into her rapidly cooling dinner of cioppino. She loved this seafood stew steaming hot and with plenty of crusty bread, but tonight’s diversion on the roof was an acceptable reason to eat it lukewarm.
Ivy took charge of the update. “Rose’s client wants to play White House with her. Can you imagine our Rose wearing a triple strand of pearls and helmet hair? I, for one, cannot.” Ivy sipped her wine, a plate of fish bones in front of her.
Lily sipped her soup, conscious that she was the only one still eating. She didn’t realize she’d been gone so long. It had seemed like only moments.
Rose sighed. “Don’t make it sound so grand, Ivy. Steve is a local politician who is probably going to get a seat in the state legislature this year. I did the landscape design for his new McMansion, and now he’s asked me out. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to go or not.” Rose picked up her fork and twirled it, considering her problem. “Besides, Ivy, we were also talking about whether you should leave the embassy in London to work for an evil corporation and make silly amounts of money in exchange for your soul.”
“Answer me this, Rose. Is the McMansion white?” Ivy cocked an eyebrow, challenging Rose to defy her read of the situation. “And my black and crusty soul is not nearly as interesting on New Year’s Eve as your love life.” She placed her hand over her heart in mock sorrow.
Rose put her fork down. “Yes, the McMansion is white, but Steve is hardly the guy who’s going to be President someday. I’m more concerned about dating a former client than I am turning into a blue jean Jackie O.”
Ivy shook her head to emphasize her point. “I rest my case. His job makes it too iffy to get involved. I can’t see you doing the stand by your man thing when he sends dick pics to a journalist on Twitter or gets caught taking bribes from some mob guy. You can do better than that, girl.”
Violet gave Ivy the side eye, something Ivy had grown used to over the years. “Do you like him, Rose? I think that’s probably more important than what he might or might not do on Twitter in the future.”
Rose twisted her lips in concentration. “You know, he’s got a few things going for him. One, he loves spy movies just as much as I do. If nothing else, it would be fun to geek out with someone like that every once in a while. And I’d like to see a little bit of his world, maybe even make some good contacts for my business. I don’t foresee him as the love of my life, but I also don’t think he’ll be the worst mistake ever.”
“That would be Sammy Tice from high school…remember?” Daisy loved dredging up this story. “He’s still in prison for embezzling all that money. Do you think he has to wear a striped uniform, or is that just in the movies?”
Rose groaned. “I don’t think you can judge me for actions he took more than ten years after we dated, Daisy. C’mon. I never even talked to the guy after graduation!” She knew Daisy was joking, but Rose still wondered why her most interesting relationship happened when she was still in high school. “Besides, I think they wear orange scrubs, not striped uniforms. Maybe to see them better if they try to escape?”
Fake Brad Pitt approached their table with a bottle of champagne – Dom Pérignon, to be exact – and five flutes.
“Compliments of the owner, who said a table full of beautiful women should always have champagne.” He set the glasses on the table and began unwrapping the foil from the top of the bottle.
Lily glanced around, wondering who the owner might be. All she could see were waiters and Simon the bartender. She tried not to catch his eye, keeping their little rooftop rendezvous to herself. At least he wouldn’t have to dig into his own pocket to send her champagne, which was probably good on a bartender’s pay.
Lily looked at Daisy, who just shrugged. “Hey, I only met the chef before. But if a restaurant owner knows a food writer is in the house they’ll try to make a good impression. You guys should hang out with me more often. The perks are usually more in the line of an extra appetizer or dessert, but if this place wants to make an impression on me, Dom Pérignon is the way to do it!”
“Who is the owner?” Violet asked the waiter. Unlike Daisy, she wasn’t used to getting bottles of expensive champagne sent to her table.
The waiter expertly twisted the bottle while holding the cork steady, a satisfying but muted “pop” sound rewarding him for his efforts. He poured the champagne into their glasses, removed the empty white wine bottle from the wine bucket and placed the champagne bottle inside.
“The owner is Simon Black, the guy behind the bar. I can thank him for you or ask him to come to the table if you like.”
“Simon is the owner of this restaurant?” Lily asked.
All eyes turned to her.
“Simon? How did you get on a first-name basis with the owner, Lily?” Ivy prodded. “All night we’ve been here, and you never said a word about the hottie behind the bar.”
Lily’s face turned red as even Fake Brad Pitt waited for her to speak.
Rose looked from Lily to the bar and then to the bathroom. She lifted an eyebrow toward Lily, curious but thankfully silent. Rose’s seat at the table looked toward the back of the restaurant, so she’d naturally seen Simon and Lily emerge from the back at the same time.
As she stammered out a non-reply, Simon walked up to the table and touched the waiter on the shoulder. “Thanks for bringing this over, Brad. I’ll take it from here.”
Fake Brad Pitt – whose actual name was Brad – nodded his head and walked away. Had they not been in the middle of this new drama, they all would have all laughed out loud.
Simon stood at the table and smiled as if he sent champagne to tables of women every single day. Maybe he did.
“Ladies, thank you for brightening up the restaurant tonight. Your laughter has been the perfect soundtrack of the evening.” Violet’s forehead creased as he spoke, trying to match his old-school delivery with the 30-something man standing in front of them. What was this guy’s story?
“Thanks, Si-mon.” Ivy emphasized his name as she looked at Lily and then back to Simon. “We didn’t realize you and Lily knew each other.”
“Or that you were Dom Pérignon-level friends,” Daisy added.
“I like to think every customer in my restaurant is a potential friend. It’s more like hosting a dinner party that way and less like work.” Simon smiled at each woman in turn, revealing nothing.
“Would you like to join us for a toast?” Violet remained mannerly, despite her curiosity.
“Of course.” Simon motioned toward Brad and he brought another champagne flute. Simon reached for the bottle and poured the last of the bubbly into his glass. He raised it and looked at each of them as he spoke, finally resting his eyes on Lily. “To the yin and yang of life and love. May we all recognize our other half when we meet.”
The glasses remained on the table as the women stared, surprised by the intensity of his toast. Simon drank his champagne and walked over to Lily’s chair, setting down his glass. All eyes were on the two of them.
“Lily, it seems I’ve finished off your bottle of champagne. Why don’t you come over to the bar and help me pick another? You shouldn’t have to wait another year to celebrate.” Simon offered his hand and she took it, slowly rising from her chair.
The table was silent for about ten seconds as they walked away, and then Ivy broke the spell.
“Do you think we should call the tribal chief and ask him to come to New York for a new ceremony? I mean, maybe he has a bulk discount rate or something.” Ivy’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Or maybe we should go Buddhist monk on this one. I don’t know which religion handles the yin and yang thing.”
The four women looked over at the bar, where Simon and Lily were standing face to face
, arms at their sides but fingers hesitantly reaching for each other. If someone lit a match the whole restaurant would have exploded from the pent-up sexual energy.
“I think we’re heading into Kama Sutra territory now. I don’t know how the night’s gonna end for the rest of us, but I’m pretty certain of how it will end for Lily. And good for her. She needs someone to break the spell of Nico.” Rose finalized her opinion with a nod of her head.
“Speaking of how our night is going to end,” Ivy started.
Daisy looked at Violet, mock fear in her eyes. “This is going to get weird, isn’t it, Vi?”
“It always does when Ivy is in charge, but that’s why we keep her around. Lead on my friend. It’s time for the Late Bloomers to ring in the New Year!”
THE END...or is it just the beginning?
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