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betty
I smoothdown my nicest skirt for the third time since I sat down as sweat trickles down my back. The super-rich prospective client hasn't joined me in the sitting room yet. Sitting room. Who has a sitting room?
Millicent Sagendorf, that's who.
She's the richest woman in town, the chair of about a bajillion charities and other organizations. Right now, she's the lovely lady who can make the difference between my having to close the doors of my catering business or not.
If only she'd get in here so I can stop not quite hyperventilating at the thought of meeting her for the first time. I look around, realizing I'm in a very large room. My whole apartment could fit inside with room to spare. It's cozy too. The furniture is pristine and there are antique end tables but it looks lived in.
Comfortable.
Interesting. Not what I expected if I stop and think about it.
As I blot at the sweat on my cheek with the sleeve of my jacket, she enters the room. I scramble to my feet and hold out my hand as she smiles the brightest, most serene smile I've ever seen. At me.
This is so weird.
"Ms. James." She doesn't ask, she just knows. Which makes sense, but I wish I had a thousandth of her confidence. It's in the way she walks with purpose, the set of her shoulders, the way her eyes stay on mine. Her handshake is more of a friendly clasping of hands than anything. My nerves melt away in her comforting presence.
She looks like a very upscale, slightly younger Mrs. Claus. Her shoulder-length mahogany hair is shot through with silver and her hazel eyes are full of humor. She makes me long for hot cocoa and gingerbread cookies.
Again, weird.
"Y-yes, Mrs. Sagendorf, it's so nice to meet you."
Her smile doesn't waver, "Oh, honey, call me Milly, everyone does. I've heard so much about you."
What?!
I try not to look as flummoxed as I feel, smiling back at her as wide as I can. "Milly, then. I hope they were good things," I joke.
"Oh yes, all good things dear." She gestures for my abandoned seat and sits down in a wingback chair across from mine. I sit as instructed, trying to find my place in the conversation. I should be better at this, but Theo, my best friend and business partner, normally handles the bookings and I just do the cooking.
I'm not so great at people. But food; me and food are simpatico.
I'm still smiling like a dope, I'm sure. Milly lets out a long breath and I mimic her without thinking. Her eyes sparkle and I feel better.
So weird. I'm going with it.
"Now that we're all breathing," Milly says, still grinning at me. "My party is coming up quickly. Let's get to work. Tell me what you see for a group of about two hundred people in this house to celebrate the holiday season."
I think back to my conversation with Theo this morning and hitch my smile back onto my face. "Well, I see lots of silver and gold decorations, passed trays of champagne, and maybe two specialty holiday drinks." She nods, her eyes interested. My nerves dissipate completely. "For the food, I'm thinking we do everything on passed trays and maybe four stations throughout the house. No carving station, but a lot of party foods, I think. Fun and easy to eat with your hands."
I pull out a small container from inside my tasting hamper and open it up. "This is my pepperoni roll; you can eat it as is or with a dipping sauce." I offer her the dish and a napkin, "This is one of my favorite things to make for parties. People can serve themselves and mingle without trouble." I grin at her "My friends go crazy for it. And other clients..." I add as an afterthought. "Sorry," I mumble. "I don't normally do this part."
She takes a bite and her eyes go round, a groan escaping her mouth. She doesn't say a word until she's eaten the entire piece and dabbed her mouth clean with her napkin. "That was phenomenal, Ms. James."
"Please call me Betty. And thank you. I'm so glad you liked it." I open another dish and hand her a fork. "These are my Swedish meatballs," she spears one and chews it thoughtfully sighing a happy sigh when she finishes. I put both of the containers away in my hamper and then pull out what Theo callsthe big guns, "Andtheseare my chocolate-covered eggnog cheesecake bites."
Milly surprises me yet again by clapping like a delighted child after she pops one in her mouth. She swallows and beams at me. "That is heavenly. Betty. My darling, you are a genius with food. And I love your plan for the party, too. You're hired."
I'd like to wrap myself up in this moment and replay it over and over again when I'm sad. It's like being sprinkled with glitter and wrapped in a fuzzy blanket all at the same time.
I might cry. And not just because now I'll be able to make rent this monthandfeed my cat. Miraculous. Things like this don't happen to me normally.
"Thank you, Milly. I promise you won't be sorry."
* * *
