These Foolish Things (7 page)

“I can think of two or three women who’d disagree as to it
being tacky, but I think you’re right. Most expensive?” asked Ty.

Liz scanned the display. “The tags are hidden, so peeking is
out of the question…”

Her voice trailed off as she focused on one particular ring.
It was the most beautiful she’d ever seen and she’d never seen one like it. The
center stone was some kind of rich blue, emerald cut stone with two smaller
emerald cut diamonds on either side of it, all set in platinum. To Liz, the
whole effect was timeless elegance. “Hey.” Ty combined the single word with a
gentle shake that roused Liz from her reverie. “You still with me?”

Liz blinked. “I’m sorry. One of the rings caught my eye.” She
pointed to it.

Ty leaned in for a better look. “That is gorgeous and very
unusual,” Ty commented, “What’s that stone in the middle? It doesn’t look like
a sapphire.” A clerk had begun to remove the displayed jewelry. Liz waved to
get his attention. She pointed to the ring and mouthed, “What’s the stone?”

The clerk mouthed back, “Blue diamond.” He held up the ring
so that she and Ty could see it better.

“Wow, I’ve never seen one before,” Liz said. The clerk
looked at her, then Ty, then back to Liz. She saw the question on his face and
shook her head with a smile. The man nodded and smiled, then went back to
emptying the window.

“What was that all about?” Ty asked as he guided Liz away.

“Oh, he assumed we were a couple shopping for an engagement
ring and I just straightened him out.” Liz was nonchalant.

“Should we be going?” Ty glanced at his watch. “Hmm. Time to
head upstairs. You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Motioning for Liz to precede
him, Ty guided her towards the Prudential Center and its elevators. Liz knew
they were going to the Top of the Hub with that question. She remembered a
group dinner from her previous career when two of the cockiest brokers had had
to sit with their backs to the window in order to keep from passing out from
fear. They had stayed marble white throughout the meal and only been able to
walk by the windows again due to the large amount of beer they had to drink
with their meals. Liz, on the other hand, had relished seeing Boston and
Cambridge laid out before her.

They arrived on time for their reservation. The maitre d’
greeted them warmly until he got a good look at Liz’s eye. He looked twice at
it, then at Ty with a disgusted expression. “Really. Didn’t your mother tell
you not to hit girls?” he asked haughtily. Without allowing an answer, he led
them to a window table on the northern side of the restaurant and cut Ty off
from seating Liz, doing it himself.

Ty sat in his chair looking bewildered and a little amused.
“Why does everyone look at us and assume that I’ve been beating you?” he asked,
genuinely confused.

Liz shrugged. “I guess it’s easier to believe than the
truth. Look at the two of us. Who’d believe I got the better of you at anything?”

She looked around at the view. The sun would be setting in
about an hour. Right now, the city was bathed in the long, low rays of
midsummer, very beautiful, but in them, reminders of the shortened daylight and
falling temperatures to come.

“I guess you’re not afraid of heights,” Ty remarked as he
watched her take in the sights. A one-man rowing shell made its way upriver,
the rower maintaining a perfect rhythm. The sun caught the water on the oars,
flashing in time with the strokes.

“I used to do that,” Ty murmured, half to himself. “It’s so
quiet out there. You lose yourself in the rhythm and the movement. I started
when I was a teenager. Got me out of the house and away from…” His voice
trailed off as his eyes followed the shell. “I miss it.” Liz heard the regret in
his voice.

“Did you race?” she asked.

Ty smiled. “Won my class in Head of the Charles twice.”

“I’m impressed,” said Liz. She searched his face and asked
quietly, “If you loved it so, why did you give it up?” She wanted to touch his
hand, but didn’t dare. Liz settled for leaving it on the table near his.

“I was building a practice and there wasn’t time. Things
took off for me and I started getting bigger cases, which meant more work.” He
looked at her. “You may have figured out that I don’t get a lot of down time.
But, success demands sacrifice. My father always said that. He knew.” His voice
had a bitter edge to it. He looked again out the window, silent.

Liz wanted to jump out of her seat and hold him. “Well,” she
ventured, “you must be doing something to stay in shape.”

Ty’s gaze stayed fixed on the view. “A bunch of us play
hoops a couple of times a week.”

“You and your friends?”

Ty looked back at her. “I don’t have a lot of friends, but I
play with the younger attorneys from my firm.” He smiled ruefully. “Lately,
they’ve been running my ass off. How about you?”

“How about me what?”

“How do you keep those legs so beautiful?”

Liz laughed, a little embarrassed. “Lot of walking but my
legs aren’t…”

Ty interrupted her, “Yes, they are. Trust me, I’m a connoisseur.”

She ducked her head and blushed. “Thank you.”

Ty looked at her oddly. “People don’t tell you you’re
beautiful, do they?”

Liz looked back at him, eyes on his, “Why should they?”

“There are women who know they’re beautiful because
everybody tells them so,” he said, “and they expect the world to acknowledge
it. You can see it in their faces.” Here, his voice became softer, “But a woman
who is unaware of her glory puts them to shame.”

Liz shook her head. “That’s poetic. And very kind. But, the
mirror doesn’t lie. I’m not beautiful.”

Ty opened his mouth to say something when the waiter
approached, “I’m Marc and I’ll be your server tonight. May I start you with a
cocktail?” He didn’t say anything about the eye or its possible cause, but Liz
detected hostility towards Ty. She’d have felt sorrier for him if it hadn’t
been so damned funny.

They ordered drinks, wine for Liz and Scotch for Ty. Silence
fell as they waited. The silence was broken by an electronic version of “Take
Five” coming from Ty’s jacket pocket. Sheepishly, he pulled out his cell.

“I’m sorry. Gotta do some business.” He rose to take the
call at a more secluded area. Liz took the opportunity to head for the ladies
room and a pause to gather her strength.

The cell tone had reminded Liz that this was not a real
date. The caller was probably the girl she’d seen him with. She felt an almost
physical pain at the thought of him with another woman and quickly stuffed the
jealousy pangs down.

As Liz stood in front of the mirror over the sink, she
didn’t see her reflection due to the racing of her mind. What was going to
happen? Did he expect a kiss at the end of the evening? Or more? Something in
her hoped he did at the same time something else registered alarm at the
possibility. Liz was aware of a vaguely electric feeling throughout her body, a
warm, pleasant excitement that she’d never felt. She couldn’t put a name to it,
but she liked it.

No, you’re done with all that stuff, she thought. You made
your decision. This man is here under obligation and you should absolutely,
positively not entertain thoughts of anything more than this evening with him.
It’s not going to happen.

Liz opened her purse and, for lack of anything else to do,
checked to make sure she had her Plan B materials: enough money for a cab to
North Station and her monthly pass for the train as well as the train schedule.
Liz took out a lipstick to touch up and noticed the shaking in her hand. Using
a two-handed grip, Liz reapplied her lipstick and rearranged her hair. She made
her way back to the table and noticed that Ty not only rose to his feet as she
approached, but also seated her. The waiter arrived two steps behind her to
take their dinner order.

Ty assumed control, “We’ll have the chateaubriand for two
with…” Liz cut him off.

“Is Matty working tonight?” she asked Marc the waiter.

“Matty? You mean our executive chef, Matthew Sigby?” Marc
looked offended at the familiarity. Liz ignored it.

“That’s the guy. Go ahead with the chateaubriand, but tell
him a la Vincenzo, no béarnaise, the searing had better be perfect. Tell him
that this is for Elizabeth Gardner and he owes me his best shot or I’ll call
the Globe and expose him as a fraud.” Marc lingered for a moment, uncertain.
“Do it,” she said. He hurried off.

Ty looked at her, brow furrowed. “Why are you terrorizing
one of the best chefs in Boston and why can you do it?”

Liz smiled. “I spent my summers at the Cape, but I wasn’t on
the beach. I was working in the kitchen of a lovely little trattoria and Matty
interned there for a couple of summers.” She smiled. “I’m not sure if it was
more interning or getting underfoot, but he was there and I helped him get
here. While he was there, though, he perfected grilling and Tuscan style
flavoring. Trust me on this. The sides should be the best you’ve ever had.”

“Really?” Ty asked. “So you know a lot of the chefs in
Boston?”

“And New York and other locales. I know where to get a good
meal wherever I go.”

Ty leaned back. “Next time I go on the road, I’ll call you
first. Or maybe you should come with me.” This was a warm note.

Before Liz could reply, Marc returned with two soups and a
bottle of wine. “Chef says ‘you’d better enjoy this soup, it’s your recipe and
he’ll take it from here.” Marc leaned over and kissed Liz on the cheek as he
poured Hitching Post Big Circle into her glass. “He also sent that and
apologized for not coming out but he’s got a terribly bossy customer to feed.” Liz
chuckled. Marc straightened up and glared at Ty. “He also said I was to watch
you in case you’re the one responsible for the shiner. Something about a
scaloppini mallet and your kneecaps.”

They dug in on a chilled roasted tomato soup with basil oil
and small dots of fresh mozzarella, served with a parmesan tuille. Ty broke the
silence.

“Um, I noticed that you cashed the check. Did some of it go
towards that dress?” Ty ventured. He smiled. “If so, it went for a good cause.
You really do look great.”

Liz grimaced, “Thank you, but Dan was so pissed, he escorted
me to the bank to cash it and he took the money. Then he dumped more work on my
desk.”

Ty looked chagrined. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about what
Dan might do. I’ll talk to him.”

“Don’t!” It came out more sharply than intended. She caught
herself and softened her tone. “He’ll just think I complained to you and he’ll
make things even worse. I can tolerate Dan, but I still play the lottery.”

“Still…”

Liz cut him off. “It’s okay. Really. I would have returned
it to you if he hadn’t taken it.” He started to say something else, but Liz cut
him off. “I’ve learned how to handle Dan. I appreciate the offer, but I can
take care of this. Honest.”

Ty let the subject drop.

Halfway through the soup, his cell phone rang again. “Sorry,
big case in progress and my associates have a ton of questions, Jimmy? Hold on
a sec,” Ty looked at Liz. “Excuse me.” He excused himself and headed to the
hallway again, the wait staff looking after him with disapproval.

Liz sipped her wine and shrugged. Oh, well. Apparently, he
had higher priorities than entertaining her. This man was one of the best in
the business and probably resented the time he’d had to take away from his job
to comply with the court order. She shouldn’t resent the intrusion.

Liz looked up and asked. “Crest or Colgate?”

He looked up, startled. “What?”

“Crest or Colgate, Counselor?” she repeated the question.
“If the pace doesn’t pick up very soon, McCafferty’s going to ask you if you’ve
packed your toothbrush and I’d like to give you the right toothpaste to go with
it.”

Ty looked at her. “You’re planning to complain to the judge,
Liz?” he asked. “That doesn’t seem like you. “

Liz set down her spoon. “No, I’m not, but remember: he
picked the restaurant, so I’m working on the assumption that His Honor has
spies planted and…”

“If the pace doesn’t pick up, I’ll need to pack my
toothbrush. Crest.” Ty answered.

Liz pretended to study his face closely. “You look to me
like someone who used to play Led Zeppelin albums until your mother was ready
to break them over your head.”

Ty smiled. “Oh yeah. And Deep Purple and Aerosmith.”

Liz picked up her spoon. “Okay, so ‘Kashmir’ or ‘Stairway to
Heaven’?” Ty thought that one over. “I’d have to go with ‘Kashmir.’”

“I’m sorry, Counselor, you lose. The correct answer is ‘Fool
in the Rain.’” Liz answered. Ty looked at her, not following. “Everybody loves either
‘Stairway to Heaven’ or ‘Kashmir’, but my favorite’s ‘Fool In the Rain.’”

Ty thought about it for a minute. “Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Chocolate. Vanilla is for actuaries,” Liz answered.

Ty almost choked on his drink from laughing.

“My turn. Let’s see,” she pondered, “I’ve got it: Movies.
Stay for the credits or not?” Liz asked as she spooned up more soup.

Ty shook his head. “I put in so many hours at the office
that I can’t remember what the last movie was that I saw in the theater.” He
looked thoughtful as he tried to remember. “I think there was a car chase and
explosions and someone saved the world without mussing up his hair.”

“That narrows it,” offered Liz. “Could be Bruce Willis. He
hasn’t had hair to be mussed up in a while.” Again, Ty nearly choked on his
drink.

“One of us has to stop that,” he finally said. “Let’s see,
my turn.” He finished his soup while he considered the question. His eyes fell
on a water glass. “Okay. Half empty or half full?”

Liz thought for a moment, chin in hand. “I’d have to go with
half full in this case.”

Ty raised his eyebrows. “Only in this case?”

“Yeah, it depends on the circumstances,” she answered. “I am
calling that water glass half full because I know that someone will come along
to refill it at any moment.” And, with perfect timing, Marc the waiter appeared
and refilled the water glass. “See?”