Her aunt winced again and nodded with her green eyes open wide, avid interest on her face. “The Bridgewaters are at nearly every function I’m invited to. We’re not close friends, but we are well acquainted. Clayton the Third would be quite a catch, you know. Maybe even the best catch of the year, if anyone could get him to settle down. I’ve heard he used to have a bit of a wild side.”
“Oh, I didn’t know...he seems very stable and very, nice, is the word.” Mia yawned again. “Well, I’d better go lie down now. I think I’m going to sleep through dinner if I don’t get some more rest.”
“Of course, my dear.” Her aunt smiled as Mia rose from her seat, adding, “I’ll probably have a rest until dinner, as well. And please, let me know if you need anything. I’m on the same floor as you are, just two doors down the hall. Dinner is at seven. How does coffee on the terrace facing Central Park sound for after dinner?”
“That sounds wonderful,” Mia agreed. “And thank you for everything. It’s been so nice to chat with you. I’ll see you at dinner.” She dashed up the staircase in the hall across from the lavish sitting room. Traveling was hard on a person, and now she had a number of things to consider, but she could barely keep her eyes open.
ATTEND TWO BALLS. STAY one year. Meet the accountant. Meet friends. Keep an eye out for a possible husband. Produce an heir to a forty-billion-dollar estate. If Mia could remember to do each of those things, and do her best to stay out of trouble, staying with Aunt Sylvia might not be too painful. After her nap, a three course dinner in the formal dining room, and coffee on her aunt’s terrace with a view of the beautiful park in all of its fall splendor, she’d returned to her room yawning again. She’d be asleep as soon as her head hit the feather pillow.
At least her aunt had given her the best guest suite in the brownstone, with a view of Central Park, too. She liked the bear-claw bathing tub on the elevated platform in her private bathroom, as well. The remote control lights and window shades were almost too much fun. One of the maids, Abby, had laughed to find her enthralled with making the lights go on and off, and the shades slide up and down. All she’d need to do was find a place to set up her sewing machine, and unpack a few of the books she’d brought in her suitcase. Walking in the park, reading, and sewing would keep her busy, but she had a feeling her aunt’s plans would complicate her intention to keep a low profile.
Chapter 3
The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice. Proverbs 12:15, ESV
“SO NICE TO SEE YOU again, Miss Morgan, uh, I mean, Mia.” Clayton Bridgewater paused at the table where Mia sat with her aunt in one of the Pierre Hotel private dining rooms. The welcome luncheon was a required casual event to attend for all of the debutantes and their escorts during the week of New York’s most prestigious debutante ball. By invitation only, occurring only once every two years, with a fee of twenty-two thousand dollars, Aunt Sylvia had made it clear to her how important it was to get everything right. In fact, this ball, unlike the one they’d attended last month in Paris, was considered the most prestigious in the world.
“Hey there, Clayton, it’s nice to see you, too. I mean, Clay.” Mia jumped out of her seat and gave him a hug instinctively, vaguely aware of her aunt’s slight cringe. It probably hadn’t been a dignified greeting, but prior to him appearing at their table, her tension was so great, she’d felt like a popcorn kernel in a microwave.
Clay was taken aback too at first, but as he straightened his suit, Mia noticed he was smiling wider than ever after she’d embraced him. Did he seem more relaxed, too? Aunt Sylvia looked as if she might faint.
“According to the itinerary, we’ve been paired as a couple for the event,” Clayton mentioned.
Mia glanced at her aunt who was fanning herself with the menu. “I can’t imagine how that might have happened,” she laughed, winking at her aunt. Sylvia cringed again, her eyelids closing and fluttering temporarily, her cheeks turning a shade of rosy red. Oh dear. Open mouth and insert foot. Had she just implied her aunt had paid an extra sum to have Clayton Bridgewater become her escort? She had to think of a way to change the subject, and quickly. “Uh, um, would you care to join us at our table for the luncheon?”
“Don’t mind if I do, if it’s all right with your aunt?” he asked. “And no worries, Sylvia. I’m fairly certain my mother used some influence and means to sway me into being an escort again this year. I’m getting a little too old for this, technically speaking.”
Her aunt smiled at him, her green eyes sparkling. “We would be honored if you’d join us, Clayton.” She extended a hand toward the extra seats at their table, and he sat down in the one next to Mia. “How are your parents?”
“They’re doing well. They’ve been busy opening a Bexley’s Park & Madison store in Grand Rapids. They fly out of Michigan tomorrow for a hotel grand opening in Boston,” he remarked, not bothering to pick up the menu.
“Your family owns Bexley’s Park & Madison?” Mia asked.
He nodded. “We do.”
“It’s one of my favorite department stores,” she added.
“Boston is my stomping grounds,” Sylvia inserted with a wide smile. “And Mia’s father’s stomping grounds too, since we grew up on Martha’s Vineyard as children.”
“I thought I remembered you were originally from the Boston area,” he said, looking around at the room full of young debutantes with their families, and escorts, many of whom appeared to look younger than him. “Maybe my parents mentioned it some years ago.”
Their conversation was interrupted when a waiter came to take their orders and brought glasses of iced tea and goblets of ice water. The menu looked as though it required a translator, and for the moment, all of the French Mia had learned as a homeschooled student flew right out the window. “Aunt Sylvia, would you order for us? I haven’t a clue what’s best here.”
“Of course, my dear,” her aunt replied, beaming. Mia took her smile to mean she’d made a wise choice.
“I’ll have the same,” Clayton remarked. “Whatever you suggest is fine with me.”
Sylvia smiled again and rattled off a decadent meal choice for the waiter on behalf of all three of them. While they were waiting for the meal, the event director said a few opening words to make guests feel welcome, everyone clapped, and they were free to enjoy the meal.
The waiter brought three shrimp salads made with cherry tomato, avocado, and spiced lemon aioli. Then he placed bowls of butternut squash soup made with crispy kale and pumpkin seeds before them. There was also tuna tartare made with haricots verts, cucumber, basil, olives, and a Dijon dressing. This was served along with a Maine Lobster Salad of endives, radishes, and a green apple remoulade. There were glazed carrots with lime, orange and chilies; charred cauliflower with turmeric, parsley, and caper vinaigrette; and sautéed morel mushrooms. They finished the meal with delicious chocolates and espresso.
“I’m not sure if I’ll fit into my beautiful white dress if we continue to eat so—” Mia abruptly ended her words when her aunt’s voice interrupted her statement firmly through clenched teeth and another wince of the eyes.