“Lucas, you didn’t!”
“I most certainly did.” He pulled out a bottle of vintage Moët et Chandon and two plastic glasses, also a small tin of caviar. In four months he had developed a fondness for much of her way of life, while still keeping his own view and perspective. Together they filtered out the best of both worlds and made it their own. Mostly, the “posh” things amused him, but there were certain things he truly liked. Caviar was one of them. And so was pâté. The Gucci shoes were a lark, and she knew that’s how he’d feel, which was why she had bought them.
“Want some champagne?” she nodded, smiling, and reached out for one of the two plastic glasses.
“What are you looking so funny about?”
“Who, me?” And then she started to laugh, and leaned over and kissed him. “Because I brought some too.” She opened her tote bag, and pointed at the bottle lying on the top. Louis Roederer, though not quite as vintage a year as his Moet. But still, not a bad one. “Darling, aren’t we chic?”
“It’s a wine-tasting party!” Stealthily they guzzled champagne and devoured the caviar; they necked during the movie, and traded old jokes, which got sillier by the hour and the glass. It was like leaving on a vacation. And he had promised her that he would be all hers the next day. No appointments, no meetings, no friends. They would have the day to themselves. She had taken reservations at the Fairmont, just for the hell of it; a suite in the tower, for a hundred and eighty-six dollars a day.
The plane landed smoothly in San Francisco, just before three o’clock. They had the rest of the afternoon and the evening before them. Their rented limousine was waiting, and the chauffeur took their baggage stubs, so they could head for the car. Luke was as anxious as Kezia to avoid any publicity. This was no time for that.
“Do you think he noticed my shoes?”
She looked down at them pensively for a moment. “You know, maybe I should have bought them in red.”
“Maybe I should have made love to you during the movie. No one would have seen.”
“How about in the car?” She settled back on the seat, and automatically pressed the button to raise the glass between their seat and the chauffeur’s. He was still hunting for their bags.
“Baby, that may cut out the sound track, but if we’re going to make love he’ll still get a wide-angle view.”
She laughed with him at the thought. “Want some more champagne, Lucas?”
“You mean there’s more left?” She nodded, smiling, and produced the remaining half bottle of Roederer. They had polished off the Moët et Chandon. He produced the plastic glasses from his briefcase, and they poured another healthy round.
“You know, Lucas, we really have a great deal of class. Or is it panache? Possibly … style.” She was thinking it over, the glass tilted slightly in one hand.
“I think you’re drunk.”
“I think you’re gorgeous, and what’s more, I think I love you.” She made a passionate lunge at him, and he groaned as her champagne flew at the window, and his splashed on the floor.
“Not only are you drunk, but you’re a sloppy drunk. Just look at the Honorable Miss Kezia Saint Martin.”
“Why can’t I be Kezia Johns?” She sank back into the corner with her empty champagne glass, and waited for him to refill it, a pout taking over her face. He eyed her curiously for a long moment and cocked his head to one side.
“Are you serious or drunk, Kezia?” This was important to him.
“Both. And I want to get married.” She looked as though she were going to add, “And so there!” but she didn’t.
“When?”
“Now. Let’s get married now. Want to fly to Vegas?” She brightened at the thought. “Or is it Reno? I’ve never gotten married before. Did you know I’m an old maid?” She smiled primly, as though she had revealed a marvelous secret.
“Jesus, baby, you’re shitfaced.”
“I most certainly am not! How dare you say such a thing?”
“Because I’ve been supplying the champagne. Kezia, be serious for a minute. Do you really want to get married?”
“Yes. Right now.”
“No. Not right now, you nut. But maybe later this week. Depending on … well, we’ll see.” The accidental reference to the impending hearing had gone over her head, and he was grateful for that. She was thoroughly plastered.
“You don’t want to marry me.” She was getting close to champagne-induced tears, and he was trying hard not to laugh.
“I don’t want to marry you when you’re drunk, stupid. That’s immoral.” But there was a special smile on his face. My God, she wanted to marry him. Kezia Saint Martin, the girl in the papers. And here he was in a limo wearing Gucci shoes, on his way to a suite at the Fairmont. He felt like a kid with ten electric trains. “Lady, I love you. Even if you are shitfaced.”
“I want to make love.”
“Oh God.” Luke rolled his eyes, and the chauffeur slid into his seat behind the wheel. A moment later the car pulled away from the curb. Neither of them had seen the unmarked car drive up behind them. They were being followed again, but by now they were used to it. It was a fixture.
“Where are we going?”
“To the Fairmont, remember?”
“Not to church?”
“Why the fuck would we want to go to church?”
“To get married.”
“Oh, that kind of church … Later. How about getting engaged?” He looked at the signet ring on his hand again. He had been so pleased with the gift. But she saw the look in his eyes, and anticipated what he had in mind.
“You can’t give me that I gave it to you. That would be Indian giving, not a proper engagement … an Indian engagement? In any case, I don’t believe it would be for real.” She looked haughty and was listing badly to one side.
“I don’t believe you’re for real, Mama. But okay, if this one won’t do it, let’s stop and get a ‘proper’ engagement ring. What would you consider proper? I hope it’s something smaller than a ten-carat diamond.”
“That would be vulgar.”
“That’s a relief.” He grinned at her, and she dropped the haughty look for a smile.
“I think I’d like something blue.”
“Oh. Like a turquoise?” He was teasing, but she was too drunk to see it.
“That would be pretty … or a lapis patchouli….”
“I think you mean lapis lazuli.”
“Yes, that’s who I mean. Sapphires are nice too, but they’re too expensive, and they crack. My grandmother had a sapphire that …” He shut her up with a kiss, while pressing the button to lower the window separating them from the chauffeur.
“Is there a Tiffany’s here?” He knew all the right names now. For a man who hadn’t known the difference between a Pucci and a lap dog four months ago, he had learned the private dialect of the upper classes with astonishing speed. Bendel’s, Cartier’s, Parke Bernet, Gucci, Pucci, Van Cleef, and of course … Tiffany, everyone’s favorite supermarket for diamonds. And comparable stones…. undoubtedly, they would have something blue, other than turquoise.
“Yes, sir. There’s a Tiffany’s here. On Grant Avenue.”
“Then take us there before the hotel. Thanks.” He rolled the window back into place. He had learned that one too.
“My God, Lucas, we’re getting engaged? For real?” Tears sprang to her eyes as she smiled.
“Yes, but you’re going to stay in the car. The papers would really love this one. Kezia Saint Martin gets engaged at Tiffany’s, and the bride was noticeably inebriated.”
“Noticeably shitfaced,” she corrected.
“Excuse me.” He gently relieved her of the empty glass she’d been holding, and kissed her. They rode into town sitting close together in the back of the car, his arm around her, a beatific smile on her face, and a look of peace on his that hadn’t been there for weeks.
“Happy, Mama?”
“Very.”
“Me too.”
The driver stopped in front of the gray marble facade of Tiffany’s on Grant Avenue, and Luke gave her a hasty kiss and dashed from the car, with a sobering admonition that she stay there.
“I’ll be right back. Don’t leave without me. And don’t under any circumstances get out of the car. You’d fall flat on your ass.” Then, as an afterthought, he stuck his head in the window and wagged a finger at her slightly hazed eyes. “And stay out of the champagne!”
“Go to hell!”
“I love you too.” He gave her a quick wave over his shoulder as he dashed into the store. It seemed like only five minutes before he was back.
“Show me what you got!” She was so excited she could hardly sit still. Unlike other women at her age, this was the first time she’d gotten engaged.
“I’m sorry, baby. They didn’t have anything I liked, so I didn’t get anything.”
“Nothing?” she looked crushed.
“No … and to tell you the truth, they didn’t have a thing I could afford.”
“Oh shit.”
“Darling, I’m sorry.” He looked crestfallen and held her close.
“Poor Lucas, how awful for you. I don’t need a ring, though.” She suddenly brightened and tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice, but she was so tipsy that it was hard to keep it all in control.
“Do you suppose we could get engaged without a ring?” He sounded almost humble.
“Sure. I now pronounce thee engaged.” She waved an imaginary wand at him, and smiled happily into his eyes. “How does it feel?”
“Fantastic! Hey, far out! Look what I found in my pocket!” He pulled out a dark blue velvet cube. “It’s something blue, isn’t that what you wanted? A blue velvet box.”
“Oh you … you! You did get me a ring!”
“No. Just the box.” He dropped it into her lap and she snapped the lid open and gasped.
“Oh Lucas, it’s gorgeous! It’s … it’s incredible! I love it!” It was an emerald-cut aquamarine with a tiny diamond chip set on either side. “It must have cost you a fortune. And oh darling, I love it!”
“Do you, babe? Does it fit?” He took it from the box for her and carefully slipped it on her finger. Doing that was a heady feeling for both of them, as though when it reached the base of her finger something magic would happen. They were engaged. Christ, what a trip!
“It fits!” Her eyes danced as she held out her hand, looking at the ring from every possible angle. It was a beautiful stone.
“Shit. It looks like it’s loose. Is it too big?”
“No, it isn’t. No, it isn’t! Honest!”
“Liar. But I love you. We’ll get it sized tomorrow.”
“I’m engaged!”
“Hey, that’s funny, lady. Me too. What’s your name?”
“Mildred. Mildred Schwartz.”
“Mildred, I love you. That’s funny though, I thought your name was Kate. Didn’t it used to be?” He had a tender light in his eye, remembering the first day he’d met her.
“Isn’t that what I told you when we met?” She was a little too drunk to be sure.
“It was. You were already a liar way back then.”
“I already loved you then, too. Right away, just about.” She sank back into his arms again, with her own memories of their first days.
“You loved me then?” He was surprised. He thought it had taken longer. She had been so evasive at first.
“Uh huh. I thought you were super. But I was scared you’d find out who I was.”
“Well, at least now I know. Mildred Schwartz. And this, my love, is the Fairmont.” They had just pulled up in the driveway, and two porters approached to assist the chauffeur with their bags. “Want me to carry you out?”
“That’s only when you get married. We’re only engaged.” She flashed the ring at him with a smile which enchanted him.
“Please forgive the impertinence. But I’m not sure you can walk.”
“I beg your pardon, Lucas. I most certainly can.” But she wove badly when her feet touched the pavement.
“Just keep your mouth shut, Mama, and smile.” He picked her up in his arms, nodded to the porters and mentioned something about a weak heart, and a long plane trip, while she quietly nibbled his ear. “Stop that!”
“I will not.”
“You will, or I’ll drop you. Right here. How’d you like a broken ass for an engagement present?”
“Up your ass, Lucas.”
“Shh … keep your voice down.” But he wasn’t much more sober than she; he only held it a mite better.
“Put me down, or I’ll sue you.”
“You can’t. We’re engaged.” He was halfway through the lobby with Kezia in his arms.
“And it’s such a pretty ring too. Lucas, if you only knew how much I love you.” She let her head fall onto his shoulder and studied the ring. He carried her easily, like a rag doll, or a very small child.
“Due to Mrs. Johns’ weak heart, and her weakened condition from the flight,” would they send the registration forms up to the room? The couple rode quickly up in the elevator, with Kezia carefully propped up in a corner. Luke watched her with a grin.
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