Greater Than Rubies, a Novella inspired by the Jewel Trilogy (5 page)

Margaret entered, pushing a service cart. Tony stood and thanked her, taking the cart from her and rolling it to where Derrick sat. He lifted the silver dome off a plate and found roast beef with mashed potatoes and green peas. Bless Margaret, he thought, who knew, despite the early hour, to bring something other than croissants and fruit. He set the plate in front of Derrick. He watched the boy’s hungry face light up and heard the audible sound of his stomach growling. He quickly poured him a cup of hot tea and sat down. “Let me bless this food before you eat,” he said, not handing over the silverware wrapped in a cloth napkin just yet. He bowed his head and said, very quickly so that he did not torture the boy, “Father God, thank You for working in our lives and bringing Derrick and me together. I pray You bless this food to the nourishment of our bodies. In Your holy name we pray, Amen.”

He handed Derrick the bundle of utensils and sat back with his own cup of tea while the young man attacked the plate of food. When it was empty, he lifted the dome on another identical plate and set that in front of him as well. This time, he ate more slowly.

“What do you mean, it changed your life?” Derrick asked with his mouth full.

“What?”

“The church. How did church do anything for you? Never did nothin’ for me I tell ya that.”

“Ah.” Tony smiled and poured more tea for both of them. “Let me tell you a story about forgiveness and redemption.”

OBIN’S
worn out car shuddered to a stop about 12 feet shy of the valet stand in front of the Boston Viscolli Hotel. She opened the door before the valet could get to her. “I’m so sorry, Ryan,” she said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. “I hope you can get it started.”

“No problem, Miss Bartlett,” he said smoothly. “We’ll take care of it for you. Please don’t concern yourself.”

Rushing, she opened the back door and grabbed her purse and notepad, then slammed it shut and hit it with her hip to make sure it latched. She knew she was going to have to replace this car, and soon. The cold winter seemed to bring out the worst in the machine. Since her promotion from head bartender to restaurant manager at Hank’s Place, she finally had the extra money to put away and had been saving for a more reliable used car, but she didn’t have enough put aside yet. She had to limp the thing along for just another couple of months.

The frigid Boston wind bit at her cheeks and she rushed into the warm lobby of the hotel. Most people working there knew her by now. Tony’s executive offices were on the top floor of the hotel, and she had been there several times in the last few months. She thought back to the first time she’d come there, how angry she’d been at Tony, how offended by him. Now she came in smiling, walking on air, coming to meet Maxine and a wedding planner, saying, “Hi,” to the people she knew personally and basking in their smiles and returned greetings.

Green marble, shiny brass, brown leather, thick oriental rugs – it all worked together to create an atmosphere of luxury and style. As many times as she’d come through those doors, she still didn’t stop from marveling at the ambiance. It was so beautiful and so rich feeling. Furniture was arranged in different seating areas around the lobby, and Robin wove her way through to the fireplace, where she’d arranged to meet the wedding planner.

A tall woman in a red suit with silver hair in a tight bun stood next to the hearth. Robin went straight for her. “Stephanie?” she said, holding out her hand, “I’m Robin. I’m so sorry I’m late.”

If Maxine were already there, Robin imagined her sister would offer something very droll along the lines of, “Car trouble?”

Stephanie looked her up and down, from the toes of her brown boots, past her jeans and Harvard sweatshirt, to the top of her head, where she had her long blonde hair pulled back in a pony tail. “Robin Bartlett?” Stephanie asked. “I never would have guessed you were Maxine’s sister.”

Used to such confusion about their looks, Robin said, “I look like our mom. She looks like her dad.” She waved at her outfit. “Sorry I’m so dressed down. I’ve been in the freezer of my restaurant since four this morning trying to organize a meat delivery.” She pushed her coat off of her shoulders as a uniformed concierge approached. She held it out to him with a smile and continued speaking. “We were up to our eyeballs in Angus steaks and I didn’t hear the alarm on my phone going off reminding me of this breakfast.”

Stephanie smiled, but Robin could read the hesitation on her face. Then she asked, “Are they going to let you in? Isn’t there a dress code in the restaurant?”

“It’s not a problem.” She gestured toward the restaurant. “Maxine will be here shortly. She got tied up in traffic. Cassandra texted me that she had a table waiting for us in the restaurant. Maxine will just meet us there.”

“I’ve worked with Cassandra here before,” Stephanie said as they approached the hostess stand. “She is one of the most helpful entertainment coordinators in any hotel around Boston.”

“I know. Tony can’t say enough about her.”

Stephanie put a hand on Robin’s arm. “Wait, Tony?”

Robin raised an eyebrow as the hostess approached. “Yeah, Tony. Tony Viscolli. My fiancé.”

“
You
are Tony Viscolli’s fiancée? How did I miss that?”

With a shrug, Robin laughed. “You never asked.” She turned to the hostess. “Hi, Amy.”

“Hi, Robin. Cassandra is already waiting for you. Right this way, please.”

Cassandra smiled and held out her hand as Robin approached. “Hi, Robin. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“Likewise,” she said as she shook the brunette’s hand. Cassandra had a round face with dimples that lit her face up when she smiled. Robin gestured at Stephanie. “You’ve met Stephanie Giordano. She’s still reeling over the fact that she’s going to be working on the Viscolli wedding.”

“The Bartlett-Viscolli wedding,” Cassandra enthused.

Stephanie sat across from Cassandra. “I guess I’d read your name in the paper, but never associated it with Maxine. When she called, she wasn’t specific.” She asked for a diet soda from the waitress and continued. “I am so honored to be asked to do this.”

Maxine breezed toward their table, well over six-feet-tall in her three-inch boots, suede skirt, and silk blouse. “Sorry! There was a tow truck – oh, never mind.” She said as she took the chair across from Robin. “It’s good to see you all.” She looked at the waitress who had finished taking drink orders. “Coffee please, black.”

Stephanie pulled out her tablet and set it on the table in front of her, wiping some lint from the screen before waking it up. “April 21st?”

Robin nodded. “Yes. We’re thinking late afternoon with a reception early evening.”

“How many guests?” Stephanie asked while nodding and typing.

Robin deferred to Cassandra. “How many can we accommodate here?”

“We’re going to use the Grand Ball Room. I can fit up to seven-fifty and maintain fire-code. We can also open the doors and use the patio area. And, we can bring in heated tents if we need to.”

Stephanie paused, fingers on the screen. “Seven hundred and fifty?” She repeated in a near whisper.

Maxine laughed. “Think of the Viscolli wedding on your company’s resume.”

“Bartlett-Viscolli wedding,” Cassandra corrected automatically.

Robin felt her heart skitter. Her mouth went dry and she suddenly felt overwhelmed by the concept. Trying to clear her head, she gave it a short shake. “Seven hundred and fifty people? Seriously?”

Maxine reached over and took her hand. “Easily. Just think of the church congregates alone. Tony’s managers and supervisors, their spouses or guests, all of his ministries, his business contacts. I bet we reach a thousand before it’s all done.”

Cassandra opened her notebook. “We need to set a number now, if it’s possible. I need to make sure I can accommodate with table settings and staff.”

Robin held up a hand. “Let’s limit it to what will fit inside. That will keep it simple.”

“Okay, seven-fifty. Easily done.” Cassandra wrote on a legal pad with a fine-tip pen while Stephanie typed.

“We need a guest list soon,” Stephanie said. “That’s a lot of envelopes to address. I will likely hire that out.”

“Tony’s secretary is already working on it,” Cassandra said. “Her name is Margaret. I’ll get you her contact info.”

Stephanie jumped. “Oh, right. Here’s my card.”

Cassandra nodded. “And here’s mine.”

The women handed out business cards all around then Stephanie turned back to Robin. “Give me some ideas of what you’re thinking about in terms of style or theme.”

Robin raised an eyebrow. “Style?”

Maxine interjected, “She wants simple but elegant. Nothing ostentatious but nothing flashy, either. No swans or doves. Like they say in showbiz, never follow children or animals. And no elaborate foods, just tasteful simple fare.”

Stephanie nodded and typed. Cassandra asked, “Are you going to do sit-down dinner?”

Finally, something to which she could speak with authority due to her years as a waitress. “Yes. But, I don’t want to have too many choices for people. I want to do a small red meat, like maybe lamb, and a small poultry portion on the same plate with two simple sides. That will save the chefs a lot of headache and ensure that meals are set out hot. I do want to accommodate vegetarians if we need to, and make sure the vegetarian plates are fully organic, only fruits and vegetables with whole grains. Nothing processed at all, especially soy. Oh, maybe a nice tomato soup or consommé. My sister, Sarah, will thank us.”

While Cassandra made notes, the waitress arrived with drinks and took their breakfast orders. As they waited for meals to arrive, Robin and Maxine – mainly Maxine – answered questions and let Stephanie and Cassandra work between them to get the initial outline of their planning started. Robin pondered just how quickly four short months could pass. How would they ever get it all done on time?

OBIN
hugged Maxine good-bye and watched her get into her little green sports car. After three hours of meeting with such competent women who seemed to know exactly what to say and do, she felt a little less overwhelmed by the process, but still a little anxious about the timing. Maybe Tony would consider pushing the wedding back to June. Or maybe next January. That would be even better. Or maybe they could just go to a Justice of the Peace and that would be that. Better still.