Sex and Vanity(75)
Lucie got up and turned to Charlotte decisively. “First thing tomorrow, you’re coming on a drive with me, Charlotte. We’re going to the city and we’re going to find George Zao. You were responsible for this mess, so you’re going to help me end it. Once and for all.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Three Lives & Company
West Village
“Why are we meeting him at a bookshop?” Charlotte asked, as they approached the red French doors of Three Lives & Company on Waverly Place.
“His office is at South Street Seaport, and I didn’t want to meet him way down there. And I didn’t want to be spotted with him anywhere on the Upper East Side either, so I thought this would be neutral territory where no one will know us,” Lucie explained, as they entered the quaint little bookshop filled with green shaded reading lamps that cast a cozy warm glow over the space.
Lucie walked to the back of the shop to check if he was there. Perched against a shelf, flipping through a copy of Alan Hollinghurst’s The Stranger’s Child was Cecil’s mother.
“Lucie! I didn’t know you’d be coming into the city today!”
“Yes … er … I’m on my way to meet with a client,” Lucie blurted out as she attempted to hide her shock. It was the first thing she could think to say.
“Oh, look, here’s your cousin,” Reneé said cheerily, as Charlotte peeked around the corner. “I suppose she must be coming to meet your client too.”
Lucie looked at her like a deer trapped in headlights.
Charlotte came to the rescue. “Mrs. Pike! What a divine jacket you’re wearing! Off-White?”
“Alexander McQueen couture.”
“Of course it is. Now, what brings you so far south, Mrs. Pike?”
“Please call me Reneé. I’m on the board of God’s Love We Deliver. I’m killing a little time before a board meeting and thought I’d come in here to take a browse.”
“God’s Love—what a wonderful organization! I volunteered at their kitchen one Thanksgiving. Now, Lucie, have you found the book you wanted to get for Cecil? We’re going to be very late!” Charlotte announced.
“What book are you getting for Cecil?” Reneé asked.
“Er … I already looked, and they don’t have it,” Lucie said, irritated that Charlotte had dug her into a deeper hole.
“Well, perhaps Toby can help you find it? Who is the author?” Reneé prodded.
“Um, Maira Kalman,” Lucie said, spying one of her books on the shelf behind Reneé.
“Oh, I love Maira! But has Robert approved the book yet?”
“Approved?” Lucie looked at her, confused.
“Well, you know Robert only allows books with distressed spines in Cecil’s library. One shiny new spine could throw the whole look off.”
“Oh yes, I forgot.”
“Excuse us, we really are very late!” Charlotte interjected.
As they walked toward the exit, the door suddenly opened and a blond lady in a chic camel driving coat entered with a little towheaded boy.
“Lucie Tang Churchill! Long time no see!” the lady said.
“Lief! What are you doing here?” Lucie gasped.
“A good friend of mine lives in the Village, so every time I come down to visit him, I pop in here to grab the latest children’s books for William.”
“And who is this now?” Charlotte asked grimly.
“Oh, sorry, Lief, meet my cousin Charlotte. Lief was my tennis partner a few summers ago at Dorset,” Lucie explained.
Reneé poked her head around. “Lief, is that you?”
“Reneé! What are you doing here?” Lief squealed. Turning to Lucie and Charlotte, she explained, “I just saw Reneé this morning at qigong class. We must be on the same vibration!”
“Yes, unfortunately we need to vibrate straight out the door!” Charlotte declared, taking Lucie firmly by the shoulder and steering her outside. Ducking around the corner, Charlotte let out an exasperated sigh. “What in the world possessed you to pick that dangerously adorable bookshop? Everyone you know in the whole wide world is in there today! What if Reneé sees you with George? I think we should abort the mission!”
“Too late,” Lucie said grimly as she saw George walking up West Tenth Street toward them.
“Hey,” he said. “Did you want to go inside?”
“Noooo!” the ladies said in unison.
George frowned. “So why did you want to meet here?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Charlotte said, as she marched Lucie and George down the street, turned right on Greenwich Avenue, and herded them into Jefferson Market Garden. Finding a bench hidden deep in the lush foliage next to the lily pond, Charlotte sat down and looked from Lucie to George. “Well, here we all are.”
Lucie folded her arms pensively, summoning the courage to say what she had come to say.
George gazed at her calmly. “I suppose you want to talk about Olivia’s film?”
Lucie shook her head. “I want to talk about what happened after the film. Actually, I don’t. I just want you to promise that you’ll never set foot in my house in East Hampton ever again.”