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“Godmother of the bride.” She drops her voice to the under-the-breath tone that all wealthy women have mastered. “So, you can blame me for this costume party of a wedding. I took her to seeAnything Goesat a formative age. Never dreamed it would become an aesthetic obsession.”
I laugh.
Katherine continues, “If you want a nautical bent, I told her, then do a destination wedding—the Hamptons, the Vineyard. There areoptions. But no, we’re aboard thePoseidon Adventure.”
“Well,” I say. “Her choice in groom seems impeccable, at least.”
“And that, I suppose, is all that matters.” My new friend gives me an appraising smile. “And your beau. Let me guess. He’s… Tall, confident. Too attractive for his own good?”
I blink in surprise that she would know, but Katherine is gazing over my shoulder.
Charlie hands me a glass of wine and leans in, to air kiss her. “Katherine. You’re a vision, as always.”
“Indeed, you handsome flirt. I approve of your good taste in dates, Charles,” she says, giving me a wink. “Impeccable table manners.”
I try not to snort with laughter, which would ruin the effect.
“Agreed,” he says. Nearby, a waiter pauses to offer another group the dessert tray. Charlie gives it an interested look.
“Don’t,” Katherine and I say at the same time. Then, over Charlie’s confused look, we make eye contact, both of us laughing.
“And here the bride’s mother was assured that this patisserie was the best!” Katherine says, flicking one hand in a regal way. “With all these online reviews, I find it’s impossible to find reliable help, don’t you? My Rolodex used to be full of people worth my confidence. Now? Internet and hearsay.”
“Oh, then you’re talking to the right person,” Charlie says, wrapping an arm around my waist. I melt into his side automatically, my hip pressed against him.
Katherine smiles at me. “Oh?”
“Grace has an entire network of the best people in the city.”
“Well, I—”
“Really.” He squeezes me tighter, insistent. To be fair, Katherine is looking at us expectantly. “I’ve been pushing Grace to start her own concierge service since she’s so well connected. Just a couple weeks ago, she came up with a gorgeous gluten- and dairy-free cake for a client in under an hour.”
Katherine wrinkles her nose at the description. “And it was still edible?”
Hypothetically. I briefly relive the cake wobbling through the air, smashing right into Bret Bassinger’s crotch. “I enjoyed it, personally.”
“Well! How do you go about finding these people?” she asks, interested.
“It’s mostly just chatting with staff members and entrepreneurs whose jobs overlap with mine,” I explain, thinking of Maya at Bergdorf’s and Kellen at the dog park. “Some of those people are both. What are their strengths or unusual offerings? What does their business need? When I give them a great review or referral, that tends to establish a good rapport.”
“Ah, you barter in good will,” Katherine says, knowingly. “Give me your card then.”
I feel sheepish about it, but this is not the type of woman you say no to. Luckily, I have the samples from the stationary shop. I was planning to show them to Charlie tonight, so I hand over one to Katherine, instead.
Suddenly, lights appear, and a luxurious speedboat draws up alongside the yacht.
“Ah, my ride.” Katharine smiles. “So lovely to meet you, Grace. Charlie, best behavior with this one.”
She disappears down the back of the yacht and, moments later, is whisked off, back to the city.
Talk about an exit.
“I want to be her when I grow up,” I say in awe, gazing at the two arcs of water in the boat’s wake. “Every part of it. The gown, the attitude.”
“The speedboat,” Charlie adds.
“Goes without saying.”
