The Matchmaker's Gift(87)

“I’ll take it,” Abby said.



* * *



Back at her apartment, half a dozen messages waited for her on the machine.

Hi, Abby, it’s Jessica. I have something to ask you.

It’s Jessica again. It’s about Victor’s party. He wants me to go, but it’s obviously complicated. Am I missing something? It is his engagement party, isn’t it? Anyway, please call me back.

Hey, Abby, it’s Will. So … Nicole invited me to her party tomorrow night. It’s kind of weird, I guess, but I’m thinking I should go. It’s a good chance to network, and I figure I’ll bring a lot of business cards and make the rounds. Are you going to be there? Let me know.

Hi, honey, it’s Mom. I just got back from my trip. Do you want to meet for lunch tomorrow? Can’t wait to see you. Love you. Bye!

Abby. Where are you? Victor just sent over a gazillion roses and two giant towers of raspberry macarons. My office is starting to look like Versailles—without the mirrors, but still. He wrote a note begging me to come to the party. Abby, what should I do? Call me back!

Abby, it’s Diane. I haven’t heard a peep from Victor, and he isn’t returning my calls. If you have any idea what the hell is going on, now would be a good time to tell me.



Abby called her mother first and made a plan to meet for lunch. Next, she left a message for Will, confirming that she would see him at the party. The third call she made was to her boss, but Diane’s assistant picked up instead.

“Diane is in a meeting, but she’s losing it,” Lisa whispered. “Victor étoile is MIA, and the Henshaw negotiations are falling apart.”

“At least she can’t blame me for that—I’ve never even met Mr. Henshaw. Anyway,” Abby continued, “I’m returning Diane’s call. Please tell her that I haven’t spoken with Victor since the meeting Monday morning.”

“I’ll let her know,” Lisa said. She lowered her voice to a whisper again. “Get back here as soon as you can, okay? This place does not run well without you.”

After Abby hung up with Lisa, there was only one phone call left to make.

She had never heard Jessica sound so frantic. “Abby! Thank God! I’ve been avoiding Victor’s calls all afternoon. I had my nurse tell him I’m with patients. What do you think is going on?”

“Honestly, I have no idea. I’m sure he’s having doubts about the wedding. But this whole plan of going ahead with the party and inviting you to come makes no sense to me.”

“You don’t think he wants me to be his mistress, do you? Mistresses are much more accepted in France, I’ve heard.”

“Jessica! You’re not going to be anyone’s mistress.”

“I know, I know. I’m just looking for some kind of explanation.”

Abby sighed. “Let’s think this through logically. Victor clearly wants you at the party. For now, neither of us can figure out why. The only way we’re going to find out is if you accept the invitation. If you stay home and Victor goes through with the wedding, you’re always going to regret not going.”

After a long pause, Jessica concurred. “You’re right,” she said. “I have to be there. Would you mind if we went together? I don’t want to show up by myself.”

“Of course,” Abby promised. “Try not to worry—everything is going to work out.” She sounded more confident than she felt. By the time she got Jessica off the phone, her head was buzzing with all the different ways the engagement party could go wrong.

Tomorrow night was going to be chaos. Just thinking about it was enough to give her a headache. Why had Nicole invited Will? Why had Victor invited Jessica? How long would it take before Diane lost her temper and Abby lost her job?



* * *



On Saturday, Abby met her mother for lunch at their favorite coffee shop on Broadway. Beverly smelled like lemons and oranges. Her hair was longer than usual, her cheeks more freckled, and her nose was slightly sunburned. After visiting with Hannah in San Francisco, she’d continued on to Hawaii to coordinate conferences for two of her travel agency’s corporate clients. Abby hadn’t seen her for almost a month, and their hug lasted for a very long time.

They found a booth, ordered omelets, and sipped at their coffee while Beverly described the highlights from her trip. Abby wasn’t sure how much to say about her grandmother’s journals and Jessica Cooper, but it turned out that her mother already knew.

“So, have you found a match for the ophthalmologist yet?” Beverly asked.

Abby tried not to choke on her coffee. “I should have guessed Hannah would tell you. Aren’t you even a little bit surprised?”

“Surprised that your grandmother was still making matches or surprised that she thought you could make one, too?”

“Either, both, I don’t know! Seriously, Mom, don’t you find any of this strange?”

Beverly chuckled. “I grew up on your grandmother’s stories. The Pickle King, the knish war, the stalking shadchanim. What could be stranger than any of that?”

“I thought she stopped matchmaking after Grandpa Gabe died.”

“She did, but she could never give it up entirely.” Beverly shrugged. “It was in her blood.”