Love's Rendition

Part 7

by Tragedy88

 

 

E-Mail: Tragedy88@goplay.com

 

 

Disclaimers: See Part 1.

 

 

Chapter Seven

 

Vella's dark head peered around the door as we entered.  I gave her a smile but she simply looked me up and down and turned her attention to Allison.

            "Mr. Wahbash called an hour ago, ma'am."

            "Thank you Vella.  Grace and I will be having lunch on the back patio."  Allison casually touched my elbow and led us down the hall.

            "Yes, ma'am."  Vella returned to the kitchen to prepare lunch.

            We walked past the staircase, past the pictures, past the den through a richly furnished living room and through wide, glass paned double doors to the back patio.  It was filled with flowers that gave off the fragrant scent of lilacs, roses and many others I couldn't name.

            In the middle of the patio, white wicker chairs sat around a glass topped table.  On top of the table was a frosty crystal vase with a bouquet of flowers.

            "Why don't you have a seat, Grace?  I've got a phone call to  make and I'll be right back."  Allison waited for me to nod and take a seat.

            I gazed out over the manicured gardens in the back, my eyes wide.  No matter how hard I tried I couldn't put that cold look on my face that Allison seemed to have perfected.

            It all simply amazed me.

 

•••

 

"What's up, Chris?"  Allison asked.  She was in the den, calling on the second line, hoping Grace wasn't bored out of her mind.

            "Mr. Thurbs called.  He wants you to confirm you'll be there."

            "Yeah, fine,"  Allison sighed. "I'll call him and let him know I'll be there."

            "Did you pick up a date, Alli?"  Chris asked.

            Allison chuckled and a little smile curled her mouth up as she thought of the young woman waiting on her patio.  "Something like that," she replied cryptically.

            "Ohhhh, tell me about her."

            She could almost hear his mind clicking and see his wide, mischievous smile.  "She's absolutely beautiful, and she's got this...I don't know what it is-"  She stopped abruptly and continued in a more subdued voice, "You'll get to meet her soon enough, Chris.  But we're friends, nothing more."

            "Uh huh."  Chris chuckled.

            "Don't even go there.  We're friends,"  Allison stated with maybe a little too much vehemence.

            "Relax, Alli, I was just teasing you,"  Chris backed down, puzzled by Allison's behavior.

            "Sorry, didn't mean to snap at you."  Allison twisted the phone cord around her finger, biting her tongue.  "Lunch is ready.  I'll give Mr. Thurbs a call after."

            "Ok, take care of yourself."

            "Bye."  Allison hung up the phone with a sigh.  She straightened her blouse and her expression, keeping both smooth and even.

 

•••

 

There's even a fountain, I marveled, craning my neck to get a better view through the tinted windows.

            "Would you like the tour now or after lunch?"

            Allison's deep voice startled me once again.  "Geez, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that, Alli," I chastised.

            "Sorry."  Allison grinned.

            My stomach rumbled loudly.  "Uh, guess it's lunch first."

            Vella chose that precise moment to walk in with a tray laden down with food.  I automatically got up to grab one of the edges and help her.

            "I've got it," Vella said softly. "Please sit down, miss."

            I gave Vella an uncertain glance.  "I don't mind."  I suddenly received a grateful smile that completely changed the young Mexican woman's face, and I returned the smile as I helped her set up the small table.

            Allison remained silent.

            After Vella left we sat at the table and I followed suit as Allison unfolded her linen napkin and draped it over her lap.

            "It's her job you know."

            "Huh?"  I looked up from my study of the numerous forks.

            "It's Vella's job to set the table and bring the food."  Allison picked up a four pronged, large silver fork.

            I looked for the same one.  "Just because it's her job doesn't mean I can't help out," I replied absently, trying to decide what to eat first- the little white things I thought might be mussels, the herb pasta or the array of peas and pearl onions.

            "You are my guest, Grace.  You shouldn't interfere with Vella's job."

            I paused with my fork halfway to my mouth, the mussel dangling precariously off the end.  "Excuse me?" I asked incredulously.  "Have you forgotten already that I'm just like Vella?  Except I don't work in a mansion, I work down on 8th Street?"  I carefully set the fork back on the plate, before I did a Julia Roberts.

            "Where you work or how much money you have does not define who you are, Grace," Allison responded.

            "Tell that to society,"  I mumbled and picked up my fork again.

            Allison seemed about to argue the point.

            "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you like that," I said and resumed eating.  I'd never had mussels before.  Not bad.  "Haven't you ever helped the people that work for you?"

            Allison's jaw clenched and unclenched.  "No, I do my job and they do theirs."

            This was going to be a long day.  I needed the money the portrait would bring, and being a smart ass was a sure way to lose it.  So, I ignored Allison's last comment.  "Great food," I mumbled around a forkful of peas.

            "Mmmm," Allison murmured.

 

•••

 

(c) 2000, Tragedy88

 

 

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