Chapter 15 #2
Matt spun around again. “Okay. Fine. But do tell!”
“Long story. Very, very long. Too long to share right now, but I met two colleagues of theirs last night, and they invited me and Nina to lunch.”
“You and Nina?” he said, and eyed her suspiciously. “Where were you, exactly? I want details.”
“Around town. That doesn’t matter,” Frankie said, knowing it would take too long and sound very crazy if she told him exactly where she was the night before.
“What matters is I am meeting the owner of Washington, D.C.’s most prominent news media company, who also happens to be a countess; the magnanimous Myra Rutledge, who donates bulletproof vests to K-Nines all over the country; Maggie Spritzer, star reporter; and Kathryn Lucas, former engineer, current cross-country truck driver. ”
“Plus Nina, former star of Family Blessings . Well, that is quite an interesting group.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Frankie said thoughtfully.
She had gotten so caught up in the previous night’s escapades and the invitation to lunch, she barely had time to put it all together in her head.
“I’m very excited!” Frankie wondered how much adrenaline one could release at once without having a heart attack.
She placed her thumb on her wrist and checked her pulse.
“You alright?” Matt sat up quickly.
“Yes. Just getting a bit of a rush.”
Matt eyed her carefully. “Okay. No double cappuccino for you today.”
“Good idea,” Frankie said, and hung her coat on the back of her office door. “What’s on the agenda for the morning?”
“Just need you to check a few things before they go to the printer. The BLADS are in for next season,” he said, and handed her a large folder. “Should be a relatively quiet day except for your fabulous lunch.”
“Yes, indeed.”
“How are Giovanni’s family members doing?”
“Great. They’re going to Radio City this afternoon. And the gang chipped in for a weekend in Atlantic City for New Year’s Eve. Dinner, a show, fireworks.”
“What about Christmas?”
“Marco and Anita are hosting Christmas Eve and Christmas at their house. This way the kids can get to bed early, and they don’t have to shuffle everyone around.
I am sure Rosevita and Lucia will wrangle their way into the kitchen.
But Giovanni is preparing a few dishes at the restaurant to try to keep the chaos to a minimum,” Frankie said, and chuckled.
“I never appreciated the many benefits of cooking.”
“What do you mean?” Frankie asked.
“It’s therapeutic. It’s creative. It offers interaction between people with a common goal of nourishing each other.”
“Wow, Matt. When did you become the cuisine philosopher?”
“When I started working for you!” he said, and grinned. “You created an imprint for cooking with a cause. I believe that’s the name of the imprint.”
Frankie snickered. “Good point! Okay, let me get to these before lunch. I might be having too much fun and not return.”
“Right,” Matt said sarcastically. “When has that ever happened?”
“Never,” she said, paused, then raised her eyebrows. “Up until now.”
Reservations were set for twelve-thirty. It was mild enough outside that Frankie didn’t need to wear a jacket to walk from one building to another. Nina was waiting for her on the sidewalk.
“Hello, dahling,” Nina said in a deep, exotic voice.
“Kiss, kiss,” Frankie replied, giving her friend air kisses.
“How excited are you?” Nina asked.
“I had to check my pulse earlier this morning,” Frankie admitted, chuckling.
“That was quite a scene, eh?” Nina said in amazement.
“You ain’t kidding. And thanks for humoring me.”
“It could have turned out a lot worse than being invited to lunch at Limani.”
“So true. I wonder why,” Frankie said pensively.
“You mean why on earth would a countess and a confectionary tycoon want to have lunch with us?”
“Exactly,” Frankie replied. “I think it’s great, but odd. In a good way.”
“Maggie and Kathryn seem to be pretty normal, if you can call being on a stakeout at a semi-abandoned warehouse normal.”
“They were tracking down the toys,” Frankie said, reminding her friend.
“True. But how did they know where to find the truck?” Nina pondered.
“You’re the one with the creative and sometimes criminal mind,” Frankie joked.
“I guess we are about to find out.” Nina opened the big brass doors and approached the ma?tre d’. “Good afternoon. We have a reservation with Countess De Silva,” Nina said, trying to hide her tinge of nervousness.
“Ah yes. The rest of the guests have already arrived. Follow me, please.” The gentleman led the way to a table toward the rear of the Mediterranean restaurant.
“This place is beautiful,” Nina whispered as she took in the ambiance of the décor. She felt transported to Greece.
“I can’t believe I haven’t been here in years, and I work across the street,” Frankie whispered in return.
Four smiling faces greeted them. “Hello again!” Maggie’s said with a huge grin. “Long time no see,” she giggled.
Annie held out her hand. “I’m Annie. So nice to meet you.”
Myra followed with her introduction. “Myra. Glad you were able to join us on such short notice.”
“I wouldn’t have missed this for anything.” Nina shook hands with the two women.
“Except maybe an Emmy,” Maggie said, teasing one of her TV idols.
“Francesca—Frankie—Cappella,” Frankie said, and followed with handshakes.
The ma?tre d’ held the chairs for them to be seated.
“Thank you very much for inviting us. This is really a treat. I usually have a salad at my desk from the commissary.”
“This will be a vast improvement, I can assure you,” Annie said, and gave her a warm smile.
A server approached the table with a bottle of Dom Pérignon. “Madame?” he asked Frankie.
She was a bit startled at the offer, but then again, she had no idea what to expect. Champagne at lunch? Why not? This was a special occasion.
“Yes, thank you,” Frankie replied.
He turned to Nina. “Madame?”
“Please. Thank you,” she answered.
Once everyone’s glasses were filled, Annie lifted hers. “Here’s to making new friends! Cheers!”
Frankie responded with “Cin! Cin!”
Everyone else voiced their own toast.
Annie began the conversation. “Nina, I know you are an actress, writer, and podcaster. What are you working on now?”
Nina was surprised Annie knew as much as she did about her. “I’m collaborating with Jordan Pleasance. We’re attempting to pitch a series.”
“Can you tell us what it’s about?” Myra asked, and took a sip from her glass.
Nina explained it was a mother-daughter mystery, focusing on small towns in the U.K.
“That sounds like something I would enjoy,” Myra said.
“Ditto,” Annie added. “There isn’t much on network television these days.”
“Exactly. And when you are a woman of a certain age, such as me, it’s tough to find work in this industry unless you create something for yourself.”
Maggie chimed in, “I saw Billy Bob Thornton doing an interview. Apparently, he got that advice from Billy Wilder while he was working for a catering company at a posh Holly wood party. I’m paraphrasing, but Wilder approached Thornton and said, ‘You want to be an actor. You’re not good-looking enough.
Write your own material.’ Or something to that effect. ”
“Seriously?” Nina asked.
“Yes, and the funny thing about it was Thornton had no idea who he was talking to. When he went back to get another tray of pigs in a blanket, his friend asked him what Wilder had said to him. Imagine that!” Maggie said.
“Now that sounds like a plot for a movie,” Nina responded.
“And so, the movie Sling Blade was born,” Maggie said as she finished her story.
“And what about you, Frankie?” Myra asked.
“I’m an editor at Grand Marshall.”
“She is being modest,” Nina chimed in. “She created an imprint called Cooking for a Cause.”
“I heard about that,” Myra said. “Celebrity chefs, and part of the proceeds go to their favorite charity, correct?”
Frankie tried not to blush, but she was impressed that her work was known to someone as prestigious as Myra Rutledge. “Correct.”
“The reason I’m aware, is because my husband has become a foodie and is always trying new recipes on us.”
Kathryn finally spoke. “I try to be in town when he and Fergus are rummaging through the kitchen.”
“Fergus is my plus-one,” Annie said, and grinned.
The server approached the table and asked if they wanted to hear the specials. Indeed, they did. Annie ordered the Mediterranean mezza, an assortment of dips and pita bread. “Anyone interested in octopus?” she asked.
“Count me in,” Frankie replied.
“Ew. No,” Maggie and Kathryn said in unison.
“I would love some,” Nina added.
The two-hour lunch was filled with lively conversation, including how the four women happened to meet on a dark deserted street in Brooklyn.
“I would really like to get my hands on those buggers who stole the money,” Frankie said, then sighed.
“I met the woman who was mugged by Rockefeller Center. Her name is Carol. She’s been ringing that bell for years.
” Frankie paused and decided to finish her story.
“I got there a few minutes after it happened. Then I coaxed her to follow me to St. Patrick’s Cathedral.
I figured a little prayer and some solace might help her jangled nerves. ”
“That was very kind of you,” Myra said. “It’s shocking that something like that would happen with so much security,” Myra said.
“True, but there were a bunch of SantaCon merrymakers, and it happened very fast. There were too many of them to finger any particular one of them,” Frankie replied.
Nina cleared her throat. “My dear friend here heard about a few more kettle grabs and made a map of the incidents. She pulled out her handy drawing compass and triangulated the distances and produced a location. She had a hunch. And when Frankie gets a hunch, she is like a dog with a sock in its mouth. I knew she wasn’t going to let it go, and I allowed her to talk me into this wild idea of checking the address. ”