Annihilate Me: Holiday Edition (6 page)

“I’ll
need to do some shopping.
 
I might
steal Blackwell away with me for a day if that’s OK.”

He
shrugged.
 
“Fine by me.
 
You’ll also bring Lisa?”

“Absolutely.”

“The
three of you out together?” he said.
 
“The city isn’t ready for that hurricane.”

CHAPTER FIVE

The
next morning, Blackwell called Lisa and I at ten on the dot.
 
“Come on, ladies,” she said over the
speakerphone.
 
“Let’s do this.
 
The stores just opened, and we’ve got
some serious damage to do.
 
I’m
downstairs parked in front—of course, I am.
 
Where the hell else would I be?
 
The back?
 
Please.
 
Don’t dawdle.
 
I have a fat-melting herbal supplement
for Jennifer, vitamins for Lisa, and black coffee for all of us, with shots of
espresso in each.
 
We’ll be on fire
by the time we get to Saks.
 
Move
it!”

We
did.
 
When we left our building, we
saw one of Wenn’s limousines waiting for us at curbside.
 
It was brisk outside, but not cold.
 
It was probably around forty degrees,
with almost no breeze.

Perfect
shopping weather
, I
thought.

“Fancy,”
Lisa said when she saw the car.

“Fun,”
I agreed.

The
driver opened the door for us.
 

“Thanks,
Joe,” I said to him.

“My
pleasure, Ms. Kent.”

I
winked at him.
 
“Get ready for the
whirlwind.”

“I
hear one’s coming, ma’am.”

“Jennifer!”
Blackwell said.

“Better
get inside,” I said.
 
“Otherwise,
she’ll have our heads.”
 
I stepped
in after Lisa, sat next to Blackwell and gave her a kiss on the cheek, which
she tolerated with a roll of her eyes, while Lisa sat opposite us.
 

“Your
coffees are in your armrests.
 
Here
are your herbal supplements, Jennifer.
 
And Lisa—your vitamins.
 
No arguing.
 
Take them.”

We
did—and we were off.

*
 
*
 
*

When
we arrived at Saks, Blackwell looked at me.
 
“Are you OK to shop here?
 
After what happened?
 
We can always go somewhere else.”

“I’m
fine.”

“Are
you sure?”

“Yes.
 
I’m actually excited to be back.
 
I haven’t been here since that bitch
held a knife to my throat.
 
Life is
all about getting back on the horse.
 
I’m ready.”

“That’s
the spirit.”

And
then Blackwell was on a tear.

“You’ve
each got your lists?” she said when we moved out of the car and into the
already packed store.

“Got
them,” we said in unison.
 

“Good.
 
Here’s my plan.
 
We all want to buy something for Alex
and Tank.”

“And
you, Alexa and
Daniella
,”
I said.

“All
right.
 
That’s very sweet of
you.
 
So, let’s see what we can find
for the boys, then we’ll do the girls, then I’m assuming we’re going to want to
split up and have our privacy for a while so we can do some additional shopping
in private?
 
Yes?
 
Sound good?”

“Sounds
perfect,” I said.

“Totally
onboard,” Lisa agreed.

“What
do you want to get the boys?” Blackwell asked.

“I
want to get Alex a watch,” I said.

Lisa
looked at me.
 
“I want to get Tank a
watch.”

“Perfect
choice.”

“I
want to get them both cufflinks, but not here,” Blackwell said.
 
“Cartier.
 
We’ll stop by there later.
 
So, let’s go and see what watches they
have, then we’ll move on to the girls, and then we’ll have our own private
adventures.”

Two
hours later, when we left the building, our hands heavy with bags and our bank
accounts significantly lighter, Joe was waiting outside for us with the
limousine.
 
He put our bags in the
trunk, I made sure that he separated them so there could be no mistaking whose
was whose, and off we went to Cartier, where Blackwell purchased the most
stunning diamond cufflinks for Alex and Tank.

“They’re
gorgeous,” Lisa said.

“Of
course they are.
 
What else did you
expect from me?”

“You
have exquisite taste, madam,” the young woman behind the counter said.

“Born
with it,” she said.
 
“Runs in the
veins which, as you can see, are blue.”
 
She held out her wrist to the woman, who looked down at the veins that
snaked along Blackwell’s wrist before she lifted her eyes back to Blackwell.

“So
rare,” she said.

Blackwell
touched her throat.
 
“And apparently
so are you.
 
My dear, I just handed
you a side of shit, and you handled it as if it were a rose.
 
Here’s my card,” she said, dipping into
her clutch and retrieving one.
 
“Call me if you ever want a job at Wenn.”

“Wenn
Enterprises?”

“What
other Wenn do you know in this town?”

“Wenn
it is.
 
I’ll do that.”

“Please
do.”
 
She looked at me and
Lisa.
 
“Now, I’ll need to ask each
of you to go and sit in the car.”
 
She lifted her head.
 
“I
might have some additional shopping to do, and neither of you can be here while
I do it.
 
So, you know—
go.”

*
 
*
 
*

When
Blackwell returned to the car twenty minutes later, she handed Joe her bags,
waited for him to open her door, and then she got inside.

“I
suppose you two are hungry,” she said.

“I
could use a bite to eat,” I said.

“That
goes without saying, Jennifer.
 
And
you, Lisa?
 
My perfect little
size-zero?
 
Can you even bare a
nibble, or is that too much right now, which Jennifer should be paying
attention to.”

“I’m
famished.”

“You
size-zeros always are.
 
I’ll never
understand it.”

“Lunch
would be fun,” she said.
 
“Where
to?”

“Jennifer
will remember this.”
 
She turned to
me.
 
“New York-Presbyterian?
 
The day we had our little chat in the
cafeteria?
 
That young man who made
us burgers and fries in that sweat shop of a hellhole filled with sickness and
woe?
 
Do you remember him?”

“Of
course.”
 
I paused to think of his
name.
 
“Charlie, right?”

“His
name is Charles.
 
No proper chef is ever
called Charlie.
 
But, yes, he once
went by Charlie.
 
Now, he’s
Charles.
 
And that’s him.”

“You
were going to send him to culinary school.”

“I
made that happen through Wenn, which is one of the many reasons I love
Wenn.
 
When I see talent, I’m able
to do something about it.
 
Oh, don’t
you look at me like that, Jennifer.
 
Don’t you dare give me those damned doe-eyes.”

“Sorry.
 
It was just nice of you.”

“Whatever.
 
That young man had talent, and he
deserved a chance.
 
He recently sent
me a note saying that when he’s not in school, he’s apprenticing at JoJo, that darling
little French restaurant on East Sixty-Fourth Street, and that I should stop by
sometime.
 
Before I left Cartier, I
called to see if he was cooking today, and he is.
 
I say we go there for lunch.
 
I say we try the food and see how
Charles is doing.
 
Does that work
for you ladies?”

I
just looked at her and smiled.

Blackwell
lifted her chin and spoke to the driver.
 
“JoJo’s,” she said.
 
“
Tout
suite
!”

*
 
*
 
*

Two
hours later, when lunch was over, Blackwell asked our server if she might speak
to Charles, who emerged from behind one of the patterned curtains that
separated the tight dining areas.
 
He wore a soiled white apron, and he was all smiles.
 
He looked so different from the last
time I saw him.
 
He looked happy,
which changed everything about him.

As
Blackwell fell into conversation with him, I heard her ask him about school,
whether he was enjoying it and earning good grades, how he was liking his time
here, what he thought might be next for him once school was behind him, and
then how proud of him she was that he had taken her advice and gotten the hell
out of that hospital.

“I
couldn’t stand the thought of you rotting there,” she said to him.

“Thanks
to you, I don’t have to.”

“With
all of that bacteria flying you, it’s a miracle you made it out alive when you
did.
 
You could have been felled by
a staph infection, for God’s sake.”

“You
crack me up, Ms. Blackwell.”

“Why
do people say such things to me?”

“Because
you’re funny.”

“I’m
certainly
not
funny.
 
I’m nothing if not serious.”

“She
is funny,” I said to Charles.
 
“And
she knows it.
 
Don’t let her fool
you.”

“I
don’t even know what that means,” Blackwell said.

“Those
who love you do.”

“Oh,
please.”
 
She looked at the young
man.
 
“Charles, Charles, Charles—how
I hate to be surrounded by sentimentalists.
 
It’s just one more suffrage slung my
way.”

“Christmas
is coming,” I said.
 
“Get used to
it, Barbara.”

She
looked at me with narrowed eyes.
 
“Not another word.”
 
When she
turned to Charles, her face softened.
 
“You’re a fine young man, Charles, even if you do share the name of my
former husband, who is a horrible person who should be eaten alive by the snake
that gave birth to him.
 
Not that
I’ll hold that against you—obviously, I don’t.
 
I can see your future stretched right out
in front of you, and it’s rather something.
 
I see Michelin stars.
 
What did you make for us today?”

“What
did you have?”

She
went around the table and told him what we’d ordered.

“I
made the salads, and I made your lobster salad,” he said to me.

“It
was wonderful.”

“The
salads were divoon,” Blackwell said.
 
“So light.
 
So fresh.
 
Not too much oil.
 
And just the right amount of vinegar and
citrus.
 
Sublime, sublime, sublime.
 
Good for you.
 
Well done, my future celebrity chef.”

“Thank
you, Ms. Blackwell.”

“And
good for you for going to school, and also for having the fortitude to land a
prime apprenticeship here.
 
Both
will take you far.
 
Just watch.”

“I
really appreciate it, Ms. Blackwell.”

“I
didn’t make this apprenticeship happen.
 
You did, which says all I need to know about you.
 
Oh, you darling boy.
 
You keep working hard, keep learning new
things, and you’ll be surprised by how the world will open up to you.
 
I’m eager for that day.
 
And remember—you never know when
I’ll be back.”
 
She lifted her
napkin off her lap and placed in on the table.
 
“After that perfect salad you made for
me, I might even come with a proper appetite.
 
So, you know, in the meantime, learn how
to make poached salmon.
 
Because
when I come back?
 
I’ll be having
that.”