Market Street Page 15
“That dress cost twelve thousand dollars,” Alexis hissed when they stepped out of the dressing room. “I don’t want her to take it off until she’s married to it.”
“Our cheesecake is stranded on a kitchen table in the Castro. You have to drive us to pick it up,” Cassie said desperately.
“I’m not leaving Princess Giselle. She showed me her new black AmEx.” Alexis wound her long ponytail into a bun. “You can borrow my car.”
“James and I each have to hold a section of the cake,” Cassie begged. “Please, guests are arriving soon.”
“Can’t they just eat caviar and salmon balls?” Alexis secured the bun with a pearl-tipped chopstick.
“The cake is the centerpiece. The whole party revolves around it.”
“Fine, but I’m going to promise Giselle front-row seats at the ballet. I told her she has to get her dress before the Traina girls come in.” Alexis smiled smugly.
“Throw in an autographed copy of Danielle Steel’s new book.” Cassie grabbed her arm. “Get your keys. We’re running out of time.”
* * *
“See how handy valet parking is when you have to make a quick getaway?” Alexis grinned when the valet brought up the car.
Cassie climbed in beside Alexis, and James sat in the back. “Since when did you become a seamstress?” Cassie asked as Alexis turned on Market Street and gunned through a red light.
“I’ll be Princess Giselle’s personal maid if she shops exclusively at Fenton’s. Her palace in Liechtenstein has a hundred and twenty rooms. Imagine the linens she’ll need if she buys a house in San Francisco!”
“Do you think you could slow down?” James clutched the headrest on Cassie’s seat as Alexis maneuvered around a Muni bus. “I feel like I’m on Miami Vice.”
“Carter and I attended Porsche’s driving school in Alabama last summer. He’s having matching roadsters shipped from Germany.” Alexis passed a red Ferrari and turned onto a leafy street with small houses stuck together. “I love the Castro.” She pulled into a narrow driveway. “Everyone paints their houses and the yards are neat and clean.”
* * *
The cake was sitting on a long white table in the middle of the kitchen. It was covered in red frosting and the base was littered with rose petals. White chocolate pearls ran down the sides like seams, and a white chocolate bow sat on top.
“I love these Warhol prints.” Alexis wandered into the living room. “We should have a modern art department at Fenton’s.”
“We’re all going to be fired if we don’t get this cake to the emporium.” Cassie slid the top section of the cake off the table and balanced it in her arms.
“You two look like matching bookends.” Alexis walked back into the kitchen. “Let me take a picture with my phone.” Alexis snapped a picture of Cassie and James standing side by side, holding twin sections of cheesecake.
“Alexis”—Cassie gritted her teeth—“we need to go. And if you pass one car and this cake lands in my lap…”
Alexis clicked her tongue. “I’ll drive like my grandmother. Don’t blame me if we get stuck at every red light in the city.”
* * *
Alexis pulled up at Fenton’s and slammed on the brakes. “I have to get back to Giselle.” She jumped out of the car and tossed the keys to the valet. “I’ll join you as soon as I separate Giselle from her AmEx.”
“Alexis has a lot of energy.” James laughed as they carried the cake into the store.
“In high school she ran half marathons and ate a jar of peanut butter every afternoon. She has the metabolism of a seven-year-old boy.” Cassie stepped onto the escalator. “Oh, God, people are starting to arrive. What if the press is already here?”
“You look perfect, Cassie, and so does the cake. Just relax.” James got off the escalator and placed the cake on a round table. He scattered rose petals on the linen tablecloth and handed Cassie a glass of champagne.
Cassie felt the bubbles drift straight to her toes. She remembered sitting at Boulevard poring over James’s sketches. Now she watched women mingle in little black dresses and wild Pucci designs. They wrapped their French-manicured nails around pots of sea salt, bottles of Chardonnay, bags of chocolate-covered almonds. They nibbled steak tartare and ahi tuna and carried glasses of pink champagne.
A young woman with strawberry blond hair and green eyes framed by thick lashes walked toward them. She wore an antique lace dress and carried an embroidered evening bag. Her mouth was painted pale pink and she had an ivory brooch pinned to her dress.
“James, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” She smiled, showing pearly white teeth.
“Emily.” James’s mouth dropped open. “I thought you couldn’t make it.”
“The furniture shipment arrived early so I hopped on the first plane west. I came straight from the airport.” Emily had a whispery voice like Melanie in Gone with the Wind. “Who is your friend?”
James looked from Emily to Cassie, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “This is Cassie Blake, my boss.”
“My mother is our boss.” Cassie extended her hand. She noticed Emily had long French nails and wore an emerald and diamond ring on her left hand.
Emily followed her gaze. “It’s lovely isn’t it? It was my grandmother’s ring. James had it reset and gave it to me during a carriage ride through Central Park. He’s so romantic. He planned a whole engagement weekend in New York.” She patted her hair and glanced around the room. “So this is your emporium.”
“Let’s get a glass of champagne and I’ll show you around.” James looked like a little boy whose mother showed up unexpectedly at Open House. He jammed his hands in his pockets and led Emily through the crowd. Cassie stood by herself, suddenly feeling thirsty.
“Darling, there you are.” Cassie’s mother approached, waving her ivory cane. She wore a white silk pantsuit cinched with a red belt. She had a Gucci scarf draped around her neck and a large ruby ring on her finger. Her lips were painted bright red and her hair was honey blond.
“There are so many people I want you to meet. Ulrica is here from People and there’s Nikki DeBartolo. I remember when she was a little girl sitting on her father’s knee at the 49ers games. Did you see Gina Pell? She writes that wonderful newsletter Splendora. And Gavin Newsom is at the bar with his gorgeous wife, Jennifer. So sweet of him to mingle among all these women.”
Diana kissed Cassie on both cheeks, enveloping her in a cloud of Chanel No. 5. She pulled Cassie around like a prized pony, telling everyone she was the soul and brains behind the emporium.
“Cassie married a Berkeley professor. It took me a decade to convince her to join me at Fenton’s!” She addressed a group of sleek women nibbling foie gras. “I must introduce you to our architect. He’s a brilliant young man from Chicago.” Diana tapped her cane on the marble. “Where did James run off to?”
“His fiancée arrived from Chicago.” Cassie looked around and spotted them across the room, sipping champagne. They stood very close and Emily whispered in his ear, her hand clutching James’s sleeve.
“We’ll catch up with him later.” Diana shrugged. “Ladies, excuse us, I see Willie Brown and Wilkes Bashford and I must say hello. They were practically father figures to Cassie.”
Cassie grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and followed her mother. She scanned the room for James and Emily, but they had disappeared. She realized she was starving, but her mother kept her glued to her like a sidecar. She finally excused herself, pleading she had to use the ladies’ room, and attacked a tray of liver pâté and water crackers.
James appeared by her side, holding two glasses of champagne. “Your mother is going to wear you out before you cut the cake.” He handed her a glass.
“Where’s Emily?” Cassie looked at James carefully. His eyes were bright and there were lipstick smudges on his cheek.
“On her way back to the airport.” James downed his champagne in one gulp. “I’m famished. I’ll load up ou
r plates, then let’s find a place to sit.”
James filled two plates with liver pâté, water crackers, cherry tomatoes, and salmon balls. He guided Cassie through the throng and sat down on the edge of the bookshelf.
“Why did Emily leave?” Cassie asked, skewering a salmon ball with a toothpick.
“I noticed on my credit card statement she flew to Atlanta last weekend.” James’s eyes narrowed. “I asked how her parents are, but she said they’re in Europe.”
“Oh,” Cassie whispered.
“She finally admitted she went there for a job interview.” James rolled tomatoes around his plate. “She got a position in an interior design firm. She starts in August.”
“In Atlanta!” Cassie was suddenly confused. “Will you work there too?”
“Apparently I’m not invited.” James twisted his paper napkin into a tight ball. “She’s going to stay with Percy.”
“I’m sorry,” Cassie said quietly.
“Her mother will be happy she’s marrying a southern boy.” James blinked. “At least I found out now and not in ten years.”
“You’re lucky.” Cassie blushed. Suddenly she felt wobbly. Her head ached and her feet hurt. She wished she were tucked up in a chair in Alexis’s home theater, watching Sleepless in Seattle.
“Oh, God. I didn’t mean to say that!” James started. “You’re a princess, Cassie. Your husband is lucky to have you.”
“He forgot to read the memo,” Cassie mumbled.
“He’s a professor, he’s not stupid.” James tried to smile. “I have to stop feeling sorry for myself, we’ve worked too hard for this. And it’s a huge success.” He glanced at the jeweled crowd wafting around the room.
“I haven’t seen this many women since high school graduation,” Cassie agreed, nibbling a cherry tomato.
“We ran through twelve cases of champagne and ten cases of red wine. We’re out of oysters and all the chocolate sculptures have been eaten.” James grinned. He ate two crackers with goat cheese and washed them down with a glass of champagne.
“You deserve the praise.” Cassie was still starving. She popped three cherry tomatoes in her mouth and devoured crackers smothered with pâté. “I feel like Alice in Wonderland. Everything is bigger and more colorful than I imagined. I expect to run into the White Rabbit any minute.”
“I’m sad it’s over.” James played with the tomatoes on his plate. “I’m going to miss San Francisco.”
“Are you sorry you came?” Cassie looked up at James.
“You mean about Emily?” James shrugged. “In a way I’ve been grieving since Thanksgiving. I feel like I was hit by a truck, but I’ll recover. I have some interesting jobs lined up this summer, they’ll help get my mind off her.”
“Are you going to leave right away?” Cassie hadn’t thought about anything besides the grand opening. All the work of the past few months led up to this moment.
“I’ll stick around until the marble pedestals arrive. It always takes about a month for a new space to settle.”
“I don’t know if I can handle my mother without you.” Cassie sighed suddenly feeling like a little girl on her first day of kindergarten.
“You could spend a summer in Chicago. The humidity is terrible but the food is good.” James smiled.
“Aidan will be home in two weeks. I’ll be busy being a wife and working woman, if he agrees to me staying at Fenton’s.” Cassie blushed and put her champagne glass on the floor.
“I told you your husband was lucky,” James replied. He slid toward Cassie and she jumped up, knocking over the glass. Glass splintered on the floor and champagne seeped onto her shoes.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry,” Cassie said. “I think Vanessa is about to cut the ribbon.” She slipped on her shoes and stumbled into the crowd. She saw James snake through the throng toward her, but she ducked behind the dessert counter and slumped onto the floor.
Aidan was five thousand miles away, presenting one of the most important papers of his career without her. Hundreds of people were gathered to celebrate her creation, but she felt like a child crashing her mother’s party. She wished she were in her garden, pulling leeks for a chilled gazpacho.
“Cassie,” Alexis hissed. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Alexis stood above her like a pink flamingo. She had changed into a long pink evening gown and gold Manolo sandals.
“I think I had too much champagne.” Cassie stood up. Her legs felt shaky and her head throbbed.
“Your mother is about to give her speech. Hurry, before she sends out a search party.” Alexis slipped between waiters passing out fresh glasses of champagne. “Just stand next to her and smile. I’ll get you a shot of bourbon and cranberry juice, it’ll cure your head instantly.”
“Or it will kill me,” Cassie moaned. She smoothed her hair and adjusted the hem on her dress. Her mother stood in front of the cake, tapping her nails on the microphone.
“I look around and see the faces of my oldest and dearest friends.” Diana’s voice was low and gravelly like Lauren Bacall in an old Humphrey Bogart movie. “And I see young women I’ve known since they wore pinafore dresses and Mary Janes. It is a very special evening for me because my darling daughter put this together.” Diana paused while everyone clapped. “It’s also special because it’s a new direction for Fenton’s. I am thrilled to have the country’s top chefs here tonight: Michael Mina, Alice Waters, Thomas Keller.” Diana waited while the clapping grew louder. “As well as some of the rising stars of the culinary world.” She pointed to Andre Blick and Roland Ames. “I hope you will follow their lead and shop at Fenton’s for the ingredients you need to create your own culinary masterpieces.” She paused until the clapping subsided. “I would like Cassie to cut the cake and then Mr. Tony Bennett is going to sing a song close to our hearts.”
Cassie picked up the sterling silver carving knife and launched it into the cake. Hundreds of red balloons fell from the ceiling and Tony Bennett crooned the opening verse of “I Left My Heart in San Francisco.”
James tapped her on the shoulder. “I’ve always wanted to dance to this song.”
“I have a terrible headache.” Cassie grimaced, turning away from the music.
“Please, I’d like to dance with you.” James took her hand and led her onto the small dance floor. He put his hand on her back and lightly held her other hand. His body was thin compared to Aidan’s and he smelled like peppermint. “You’re as rigid as a toy soldier. Try to relax.”
“I can’t,” Cassie mumbled, pushing back tears. “It’s all so…”
“New?” He pulled her closer. “You’re going to do great. New isn’t bad, sometimes it’s a good thing.”
Cassie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She relaxed her shoulders and felt the nervous tension dissipate. She could feel James’s fingers pressing into her back, his stiff white shirt rubbing against her cheek.
“Cassie, I need you,” Alexis hissed. She stood on the corner of the dance floor holding a shot glass and frantically waving her iPhone. “Carter just called,” she whispered when Cassie excused herself. “He got a last-minute seat on Sergey Brin’s jet. He’ll be here in six hours.”
“That’s wonderful.” Cassie felt dizzy. She took the shot glass and downed it in one gulp.
“I haven’t had a bikini wax in months, my roots are showing, and I need a pedicure. What am I going to do?”
“Carter’s your husband. You don’t have to look like a Maxim cover.”
“I texted my aesthetician.” Alexis ignored her. “She’s opening her salon for me. Damien said he’d do my color at his apartment, and Bebe will do my nails at the same time. That just leaves a facial. Where can I get a facial at ten o’clock?” Alexis tapped wildly on her iPhone.
“Alexis, just meet him at the airport. All he wants is to see you.” Cassie’s head was spinning.
“Oh, God, oysters! I can’t meet Carter without oysters. I wonder if Swan’s is open at this hour.” Alexis slid her phon
e into her purse. “I’ll see you at home, don’t wait up.”
Cassie turned to the dance floor but the whole room seemed upside down. She saw James walking toward her and heard her mother’s voice cooing her name. She backed away from the dance floor, colliding with a waiter carrying thick slices of cake. The plates spun onto the floor, splattering frosting on the black-and-white marble. Cassie bent down to scrape up the frosting, but her stomach leaped into her throat. She straightened up and ran up the staircase and into the street.
* * *
Cassie let herself into Alexis’s house and turned on the light. She desperately wanted a cup of tea or a fizzy bottle of seltzer but the kitchen seemed too far away. She dragged herself up the staircase, still hearing the band playing in her head, and walked into her bedroom.
Pia had turned the bed down and the lights were on a dimmer, bathing the room in a soft yellow light. Cassie put her purse on the bedside table and draped her Diane von Furstenberg dress over the armoire. She put on a terry robe and sat cross-legged on the bed, waiting for the room to stop spinning.
She wanted to regain the excitement she felt when she saw the emporium decked out for the opening. But she could hear her mother’s voice, shrill and demanding. She saw James following her as if they were in a James Bond movie. Even the women in their Pucci cocktail dresses seemed like they were from a foreign country. She grabbed her purse from the bedside table and took out her phone. There were nineteen missed texts from Aidan. She lay down on the comforter and closed her eyes, cradling the phone like a baby.
14.
Cassie’s phone rang while she was eating waffles and blueberries with fresh whipped cream. She had started the morning by swimming fifty laps and drinking a tall glass of cranberry juice. Then she wrapped herself in a towel and scrolled through the dozens of e-mails congratulating her on the success of the grand opening. Gradually the strangeness of the evening faded and she grew excited at the thought of women doing their food shopping at Fenton’s. She wanted to see them load their baskets with fruits and vegetables, slabs of cheese and loaves of bread, stuffed chickens and jumbo prawns.