Campaign for Love by Annabelle Stevens, Sorcha MacMurrough Page B

them, she delighted in using them.
    There was no point in letting them become "dust collectors" as her
    gran
    had said.
     
     
She decided on a white linen cloth and napkins, her Wedgewood, and
    grandma's heavy silver flatware, Tiffany's shell and thread dating
    to
    nineteen-ten. Crystal water goblets and Pilsner beer glasses came
    next.
     
     
The final touch was a pair of silver candle holders with
    pumpkin-colored candles and a centerpiece of autumn flowers.
     
     
Satisfied with the effect, she returned to the kitchen. The bacon
    and
    onion were about done, and she was lining up the rest of the
    ingredients, Spudz, applesauce, milk, butter and seasonings, when
    the
    bell rang.
     
     
She went to turn on the intercom, and when she heard the cheerful
    sound
    of Quentin's voice announcing himself, she said, "Hi! Come on up.
    I'm
    on the fourth floor. Four-A."
     
     
She pressed the buzzer to release the lock and rushed to put on her
    flowing smock. After a glance through the peep-hole, she opened the
    door to his knock and invited him in.
     
     
The small foyer, like the rest of the apartment, was carpeted in
    off-white with a deep pile. Opposite the door was a console table
    and
    beveled mirror.
     
     
The table held a pair of brass lamps with parchment shades and a
    silver
    card tray which Suzanna used for mail. Two ladder-backed chairs with
    brocade seats flanked the table. There was also a brass rack where
    Quentin hung his coat.
     
     
Quentin gave her a quick, friendly kiss in greeting, then said,
    "Okay.
    I'm at your service. Where do I start?"
     
     
"Come on," she said. "I'll take you to my bar."
     
     
They had to pass through the living room, where the first thing he
    noticed was her piano.
     
     
"You play?" he asked.
     
     
"Yes, a little," she answered modestly.
     
     
He seemed impressed. "You're certainly full of surprises. You never
    told me."
     
     
"Actually, the subject never came up, and it's not the kind of
    information you volunteer. I never thought it would interest
    anyone."
     
     
"You're wrong. I find it very interesting. Not many people play an
    instrument these days."
     
     
"I suppose not. It's easier to turn on the radio or CD or iPod, and
    the
    music's better."
     
     
"We'll find out about that later. You will play for us, won't you?"
     
     
"If you really want me to, of course."
     
     
He looked around the rest of the room. One wall was floor to ceiling
    bookshelves with Suzy's favorite books, as well as many with fine
    Morocco bindings, also inherited.
     
     
The chairs were green and gold brocade, overstuffed and comfortable
    looking. The coffee and end tables were polished walnut. On them
    were
    plants and a few exquisite pieces of porcelain and bisque. The
    atmosphere was one of subdued elegance.
     
     
"Your apartment is surprising too. Yet now that I think about it, it
    is
    like you. Calm and serene. It reflects your personality perfectly."
     
     
"Thank you. I'm glad you like it. Now, come to the kitchen and get
    to
    work."
     
     
It was a purely functional kitchen, large, with a table and four
    chairs
    and lots of counter space. Gleaming brass, and copper-bottomed pans
    abounded. It was a real cook's kitchen.
     
     
Suzanna pointed the way to the liquor cabinet and cocktail shaker,
    and
    Quentin busied himself with the drinks. He decided on vodka
    martinis,
    on the rocks or up, with olives or twists.
     
     
It was five when Suzanna cut up the knackwurst, bloodwurst and
    braunschweiger, and sauteed them in the skillet of bacon and onions.
     
     
While it was all browning, she prepared six cups of Spudz, and when
    she
    was finished, she removed the wursts from the pan and set them to
    one
    side. She stirred the bacon and onions into the hot applesauce, then
    added the Spudz, whipping them in with a wire whisk. She transferred
    them to a large casserole, put the wursts on top, covered it and put
    the whole thing into a moderate oven to keep hot.
     
     
Next she