It was Wednesday night, and though I’d originally planned to have the treats delivered, it was a nice night out and I wasn’t quite ready to go home yet. I felt a little out of sorts, twitchy, perhaps a little restless? And wondering how in the world I was going to tell my mother I’d be missing brunch again this Sunday . . .
I was planning on taking the train up to Bailey Falls again on Thursday afternoon. I had a breakfast planned for Friday morning at Callahan’s with the chamber of commerce and some of the local business owners. I wanted to chat with them about what they wanted, how they saw their town, and how they’d like others to see it. Chad was helping me organize the meeting, making sure the key players were there. Roxie had already been tasked with making the cakes that would follow the meeting. If it went well, cake to celebrate. If it went not so well, then everyone would hopefully just remember the cake . . .
“You’re heading up there again? This weekend?” Dan had asked when I gave him my expense report for the week before.
“Yeah, this weekend I get to hobnob with the elite of Bailey Falls, including the mayor’s wife. You know how it is, mingling with the upper crust.” Perched on the edge of his desk, I mentally ran through my wardrobe and wondered if there’d be time to get another pair of thigh-high Chanel boots before the weekend. Sadly, the extended vacation they’d taken in the mud and the water had ruined them. Twenty-two hundred dollars, down the drain.
Oscar did say he’d like me in the boots, though, and only the boots . . .
“You’ll be back Monday?” Dan asked, interrupting my daydream.
“That’s the plan. I’ll take the train back home on Sunday.”
“Staying up there the entire weekend again? Two Saturday nights in a row, this town has been deprived of Natalie Grayson. I’m surprised the lights didn’t dim on Broadway,” he teased.
“I’m dedicated, what can I say?” I laughed, snatching back the expense reports after he signed them and running them down to accounting before he could ask me any more questions.
And speaking of questions . . .
“I just don’t understand. What in the world could possibly be so interesting upstate that would keep you away from brunch? I mean, it’s brunch, for God’s sake, Natalie,” my mother was saying, walking from the kitchen to the dining room with a tray to arrange the cookies I’d brought. “Explain this to me like I’m an idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot, Mom,” I said, biting into one of the cookies.
“I must be, since I’m not understanding this. Two Sundays in a row, Natalie. Two!”
“Ma! It’s for work, okay? New campaign. I’m working with out-of-town clients, and I’m still collecting information. Its research that I need to do, and it helps when I’m in the place I’m actually supposed to be selling to everyone, you know?”
“I understand that, but—”
“And Roxie’s there. It’s great to see her, and meet her new boyfriend and her friends, and it’s a great little town. It’s . . . I don’t know . . . it’s nice,” I muffled my voice with a cookie, “spending some time out of the city.”
She blinked several times. “Who is he?”
“Who is who?”
“Who’s the he that’s making you miss brunch all the time.”
“All the time?” I laughed. “Two brunches is hardly ‘all the time.’”
“Quit deflecting,” she said, sitting down across from me at the table. She’d been in her studio today; she had paint under her nails. She had a new show coming up soon, her first in a few years. “You’ve met someone.”
“You’re psychotic.”
“That’s twice now you’ve changed the subject or not answered me directly.”
“Maybe because you’re being psychotic,” I said through the cookie.
“You always tell me about the guys you’re dating. Why aren’t you telling me about this one?”
“Because there’s nothing to tell! Jeez, what’s with the third degree?”
She settled back into her chair and appraised me the way only a mother can. “You look me in the eye and tell me there’s not a guy involved in this, and I’ll drop it.”
I leaned across the table, keeping my face as composed as I could. “There is not a guy involved in this.”
She paused a moment, her eyes searching. “Okay. Enough. I won’t say another word.”
I let out my breath. “Thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to pack some things for my trip tomorrow. Did you know that there’s a town literally five minutes up the Hudson where you can’t even see the city?”
“It’s called Yonkers, sweetie. It’s been there a long time. I think we might have kept you in Manhattan too long.”
“Perish the thought.” I grinned and dropped a kiss on her head. “I’ll call you on Sunday, how’s that?”
“I’ll be reading the Times, don’t interrupt me.”
“Duly noted. Love you.” As I walked past her, she reached out and patted my arm.
“You’ll tell me about this guy when you’re ready.”
That woman has X-ray vision.