shopping, but not with his wife, which is what she had almost mentioned to her husband moments earlier. As Jack had pointed out, nothing got past her.
Patti walked to the sitting area of the suite, poured herself a cup of tea she’d ordered from room service, and sat in a wingback chair. She hadn’t completely adjusted to New York yet, and maybe she was being paranoid. Regardless, Brett was a virtual stranger, and his activities weren’t any of her business.
On Fifth Avenue, Jack glanced quickly at his wristwatch and then at the nearest street corner. The offices of Davis, Konen and Wright were downtown. He then pivoted, rapidly walking towards Madison Avenue, looking for a taxi to take him north.
C hapter Twelve
T hanks to a call Andrew had made from the Inn at Phillips Mill while Dana was touring the guestrooms, the round table and its base were waiting in the lobby of 77 Park Avenue when Andrew and Dana returned from the country. Nina had awakened with a clear head and driven off into the heavy holiday traffic, leaving Andrew to carry the tree inside and ride up to Dana’s apartment with the table via the freight elevator.
Andrew stood the tree upright in the living room and told Dana, who was holding Wills, to step back in order to render her opinion. “So what do you think?” he asked. “Did Nina pick a winning tree?”
Dana nodded. “We’ve never had a tree that was this perfect from every angle. I think Brett will love it.”
“Then let’s get it in the stand,” he said. “But I’m warning you—I can put a window display together far easier than I can get a Christmas tree to remain straight in a stand. Darn things have given me trouble ever since I was a kid.”
Five minutes later, Andrew and Dana laughed heartily as the tree tilted left and right each time Andrew tightened the wing nuts of the stand.
“Never fails,” Andrew said. “You would think that a five-foot tree wouldn’t be so much trouble.”
“It’s
supposed
to be trouble,” Dana commented. “It’s high up on the list of things that contribute to Christmas stress, like last minute shopping, tipsy relatives, and assembling a kid’s bike on Christmas Eve.”
Andrew raised his eyebrows and shot Dana a look, which she interpreted immediately.
“Yes,” she said, “I hope that one day in a few years Brett will be sitting on the floor with a hundred bicycle parts scattered beneath a Christmas tree. He’ll try to read the Chinese directions unsuccessfully and then muddle through as best he can.”
“And this will all happen in Bedford, right?”
“That’s the blueprint,” she said. “Dream big or don’t dream at all.”
“Uncle Andrew will be there if Brett needs a helping hand,” he said, lifting the tree onto the table, where Dana had draped her grandmother’s green and gold Fortuny tablecloth. “I wouldn’t mind playing Santa’s helper for your kids. Meanwhile, I’ve got to run some quick errands. Meet you at Lenôtre in two hours?”
“Two it is,” Dana said.
Andrew left, and Dana stood back even farther to admire the Concolor fir. She thought it was probably the prettiest tree to ever grace their apartment. Its beauty more than compensated for its small size. Nina’s VW had been a blessing in disguise. It had forced Dana to think outside the box, and now she had the perfect Christmas tree in her home, freshly cut from the pastures of Bucks County.
Dana felt that it was going to be a good week. In fact, she was certain of it.
• • •
Chateau France, also called Lenôtre, was a dimly lit patisserie with a rich patina on its paneled walls. The small restaurant had brightly lit display cases to highlight delicate pastries, and the European setting was inviting to busy New Yorkers who enjoyed lingering over coffee and an afternoon sweet.
“Did you get your chores done?” Dana asked as she spotted Andrew upon entering the patisserie.
“It was a productive afternoon,” Andrew
Patti walked to the sitting area of the suite, poured herself a cup of tea she’d ordered from room service, and sat in a wingback chair. She hadn’t completely adjusted to New York yet, and maybe she was being paranoid. Regardless, Brett was a virtual stranger, and his activities weren’t any of her business.
On Fifth Avenue, Jack glanced quickly at his wristwatch and then at the nearest street corner. The offices of Davis, Konen and Wright were downtown. He then pivoted, rapidly walking towards Madison Avenue, looking for a taxi to take him north.
C hapter Twelve
T hanks to a call Andrew had made from the Inn at Phillips Mill while Dana was touring the guestrooms, the round table and its base were waiting in the lobby of 77 Park Avenue when Andrew and Dana returned from the country. Nina had awakened with a clear head and driven off into the heavy holiday traffic, leaving Andrew to carry the tree inside and ride up to Dana’s apartment with the table via the freight elevator.
Andrew stood the tree upright in the living room and told Dana, who was holding Wills, to step back in order to render her opinion. “So what do you think?” he asked. “Did Nina pick a winning tree?”
Dana nodded. “We’ve never had a tree that was this perfect from every angle. I think Brett will love it.”
“Then let’s get it in the stand,” he said. “But I’m warning you—I can put a window display together far easier than I can get a Christmas tree to remain straight in a stand. Darn things have given me trouble ever since I was a kid.”
Five minutes later, Andrew and Dana laughed heartily as the tree tilted left and right each time Andrew tightened the wing nuts of the stand.
“Never fails,” Andrew said. “You would think that a five-foot tree wouldn’t be so much trouble.”
“It’s
supposed
to be trouble,” Dana commented. “It’s high up on the list of things that contribute to Christmas stress, like last minute shopping, tipsy relatives, and assembling a kid’s bike on Christmas Eve.”
Andrew raised his eyebrows and shot Dana a look, which she interpreted immediately.
“Yes,” she said, “I hope that one day in a few years Brett will be sitting on the floor with a hundred bicycle parts scattered beneath a Christmas tree. He’ll try to read the Chinese directions unsuccessfully and then muddle through as best he can.”
“And this will all happen in Bedford, right?”
“That’s the blueprint,” she said. “Dream big or don’t dream at all.”
“Uncle Andrew will be there if Brett needs a helping hand,” he said, lifting the tree onto the table, where Dana had draped her grandmother’s green and gold Fortuny tablecloth. “I wouldn’t mind playing Santa’s helper for your kids. Meanwhile, I’ve got to run some quick errands. Meet you at Lenôtre in two hours?”
“Two it is,” Dana said.
Andrew left, and Dana stood back even farther to admire the Concolor fir. She thought it was probably the prettiest tree to ever grace their apartment. Its beauty more than compensated for its small size. Nina’s VW had been a blessing in disguise. It had forced Dana to think outside the box, and now she had the perfect Christmas tree in her home, freshly cut from the pastures of Bucks County.
Dana felt that it was going to be a good week. In fact, she was certain of it.
• • •
Chateau France, also called Lenôtre, was a dimly lit patisserie with a rich patina on its paneled walls. The small restaurant had brightly lit display cases to highlight delicate pastries, and the European setting was inviting to busy New Yorkers who enjoyed lingering over coffee and an afternoon sweet.
“Did you get your chores done?” Dana asked as she spotted Andrew upon entering the patisserie.
“It was a productive afternoon,” Andrew
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