making her way from the other side of the farmhouse toward the dining room. The aroma coming from the kitchen was calling to her. She realized that she hadn’t eaten much in the past fifteen hours.
When she approached the dining room, she gasped at the beautiful table setting. In the middle of the table was a large vase with branches of cherry blossoms surrounded by white peonies. The arrangement had to be at least four feet high. “This is breathtaking,” she gasped. Glancing at the place settings, she could barely speak. “Myra! This is spectacular! You didn’t tell me this was going to be a formal affair. Who on your A-list is coming?”
Myra put her arm around her friend. “You are my A-list. And, of course, the girls, Charles, and Fergus.” Lady barked, as if to say, “What about us?” Myra reached down and rubbed the dog’s ears. “You, too, of course!” Lady gave an approving woof.
Soon after that, Annie returned after her leisurely bath and started pouring the Aperol and prosecco. Within a few minutes, the rest of the guests arrived: Kathryn, Yoko, Isabelle, Nikki, Maggie, and Alexis. Annie greeted them at the dining room door with a tray of beautiful flutes filled with the colorful beverage.
There were hugs all around, each trying not to splash the other with her freshly mixed drink.
Shortly thereafter, Fergus appeared with a tray of hors d’oeuvres: miniature crab cakes, stuffed mushrooms, mini quiche. A plate of foie gras was nestled on the side table, next to a crystal bowl of caviar, with all the accompaniments. It was the opening act for one of Charles’s masterpiece culinary performances.
Maggie dived into the first thing she could touch on the tray. “Easy, girl. There is a lot more to come.” Charles gave her a disapproving look and handed her a linen cocktail napkin.
“Oh, Charles. You know how much I love food, especially your food,” she said, going into defensive mode.
“Yes, dear, but do try to slow down. We have many courses, and many hours to indulge ourselves.” Suddenly, Charles’s British accent made him sound very formal.
Maggie elbowed him and faked an Italian accent. “Capisce!”
Everyone took their regular place at the table, with the guest of honor in the center.
They all bowed their heads, said grace, and gave thanks, after which Charles and Fergus began serving the meal. With each course, groans of delight filled the room.
Charlotte raised her glass to make a toast. “To the finest, most generous people I have ever met. Thank you so very much for this wonderful experience.”
Everyone clinked everyone else’s glass. Nikki, Charles, Myra, Alexis, and Annie gave each other the look that said, “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
By eleven o’clock, the dishes had been cleared and dessert and brandy were being served in the drawing room. Charlotte could barely keep her eyes open, which meant she would soon be sound asleep. Myra, Nikki, Annie, Alexis, Fergus, and Charles were going to burn the midnight oil to uncover what they could about the likely not-so-good or good-for-nothing doctors.
Myra and Annie linked arms with Charlotte once again and walked her to her room.
“This was a wonderful evening.” Charlotte affectionately squeezed their arms. “I cannot thank you enough.”
“Sleep well, dear friend. If you need anything, just pick up the phone and press the intercom button.” Myra kissed her friend on the cheek, and Annie followed suit.
Charlotte was weary yet felt satisfied. She was looking forward to hours of slumber in the sumptuous bed.
Chapter 7
London
“What do you mean, she left town?” Dr. Julian Marcus shouted into the phone.
“My mother decided to go back to the States.” Maryann was slightly embarrassed that her mother had not contacted the doctor personally.
“But the treatment! The protocol!” He sounded frantic. “This will not bode well for the scientific legitimacy of our findings if she does not complete the series of treatments!” He sounded as if he were close to foaming at the mouth.
“Dr. Marcus, I am very sorry, but there was nothing I could do to stop her from leaving.” Maryann was starting to get her bearings. Who the hell does he think he is, yelling at me like this?
“You should have phoned me,” he said, softening his voice. He knew that if he didn’t get his hands on some cocaine soon, he was going to lose it entirely.
“I thought I could talk her out of leaving, but she insisted. She packed her bags and left yesterday.” Maryann waited for the next barrage of criticism.