Greater Than Rubies, a Novella inspired by the Jewel Trilogy (11 page)

“Do you like it?” Tony asked, taking the necklace from her to slip it around her neck, reaching around her to fasten it. “I think it’s perfect for this dress.”

Robin brushed her fingers over the hearts. “I don’t … “

Tony sighed. “I know. You don’t want jewelry from me. Etcetera. Do you like it,
cara
?”

With a smile, Robin leaned forward and kissed him. “Yes. Very much. Thank you.”

“Bene.” He kissed her again as the plane’s wheels left the ground.

OBIN
recognized the New York City skyline. She grinned and she clutched Tony’s hand as the jet landed on a small airstrip just across the river. They stepped off the plane and were ushered to a waiting helicopter. Robin could not believe the thrill she felt as the helicopter took off and flew over the Hudson toward the city.

Tony put his arm around her and in the light of the setting sun pointed out land marks and places of interest. She didn’t think she quit smiling the entire flight.

It felt like no sooner had they lifted off than the helicopter landed on the roof of a building. In just minutes she had seen the mighty Hudson River, the Statue of Liberty, and a collection of some of the tallest buildings in the world. It felt exhilarating. Robin thought she could have easily spent the entire evening just sightseeing the city from on high. But her stomach growled as they walked across the roof.

As the helicopter lifted away, it became just the two of them again. Robin wrapped her shawl tighter around her shoulders and kept her hand securely in Tony’s. A uniformed guard met them at the door of the roof and opened it for them. Robin recognized the scrolling ‘V’ of the Viscolli emblem on his emerald green jacket.

As they entered the warm interior, she inquired, “Where are we?”

“A little restaurant I own,” Tony answered with a smile. “I hope you’re hungry. The chef here is the best in this amazing city. People have reservations for tonight going back to last year.”

Another uniformed employee met them at the elevator. “Mr. Viscolli,” he said in a smooth and cultured voice. “How was your trip?”

“We had a nice flight, Zach.” Tony gestured and had Robin precede him into the elevator.

They rode the elevator down one flight. It opened onto the reception area of the restaurant. Robin stepped out and felt her feet sink into plush carpet. Emerald green, shiny brass, black marble – the entrance was absolutely beautiful. A hostess in a classy Viscolli uniform walked toward them through the crowd of hopeful patrons patiently waiting for their tables. “Mr. Viscolli,” she greeted, her white teeth shining against her dark face, “it is such an honor to have you here with us tonight. Miss Bartlett, I’m so pleased you could join us. If you’ll follow me, your table is ready.”

They left the waiting area and entered the dining room. Robin avoided fiddling with the necklace while they approached a table for two nestled beside the huge window overlooking the amazing city. The table was covered with a cream colored cloth and in the center sat a gold vase with a single red rose. Robin sat in a plush chair with gold and cream brocade fabric.

As they took their seats, the hostess said, “This is Luke. He will be serving you tonight.” She gestured at a waiter who approached just as Tony sat.

“Mr. Viscolli, it is an honor to serve you. “The young man looked to be about Sarah’s age. He was short, thin, with dark black hair and a long nose.

“Drew the short straw, did you Luke?” Tony teased.

Luke directed his attention to Tony and, perfectly poised with a sincere smile, answered, “Hardly, sir. I’ve looked forward to this since you made your reservation and I will give you my very best. Would you care to see the menu, or do you know what you’d like to order this evening?”

Tony held his palm up in a questioning manner to Robin, who knew what he asked by the gesture. “Go ahead,” she said, “you know what I like.”

She barely listened to Tony order as she watched the sun set and the lights come on in the buildings around them. The Empire State building several blocks away suddenly lit up the inside windows in the shape of a gigantic heart. When the waiter left, she leaned forward and took his hand. “This is magical. Thank you.”

Tony ran his thumb over the sapphire on her finger. “I am glad you are pleased. I have been looking forward to this date. I planned it while Derrick and I were in Florida.”

“How’s it going with Derrick?”

“It’s going well. I think getting away with him and removing him from the city for a couple of weeks was the best thing to do. He was trying very hard to hide it, but he was going through withdrawal.”

“I’m sure the sun and surf helped with that.”

“More than you or I know. We also had a lot of down time to talk. I shared the Gospel with him, and my testimony. He is starting to trust me a little more. I don’t think he believes we’re quite for real yet, though.”

“He starts work at the hotel tomorrow, right?”

“Yes. And night school next week.” Tony released her hand and straightened as Luke arrived with their drinks and the hors d’oeuvre of bruschetta topped with tomatoes and Italian herbs as the first course of the seven courses he’d ordered. As soon as they were both served, Tony took her hand again. “Let us give thanks for this meal and the traveling mercies with which God has blessed us.”

HE
meal would go down as one of the finest she had ever eaten and she felt warm and full. After dessert and coffee, Robin followed Tony through the halls of the restaurant, passing by the huge kitchen, and into a small office. It was very similar to her office at Hank’s Place. A tall man with a white chef’s hat and a chocolate stained apron waited there for them. He had black hair and a close cropped black goatee. Every aspect of his uniform looked professional from his hat to his pants except that he wore a pair of purple high top sneakers with electric orange laces.

“Robin, I’d like to introduce to you Marcus Williams. Marcus is the head pastry chef here at the Viscolli New York, and the supervising pastry chef for all of the Viscolli restaurants around the world.”

Marcus humbly shook her hand. “It is such a pleasure, Miss Bartlett.”

It suddenly struck her. “I’ve seen your name on e-mails at Hank’s Place.”

Marcus smiled, “Chef Casey is a man after my own heart. I’m trying to get free to make a visit and see if I can assist with menu updates.”

“I can’t wait,” Robin enthused. “That mousse I just had was probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted.”

He put a hand to his heart. “You encourage me greatly.”

Tony interjected, quietly saying as if in an aside, “Marcus has gallantly volunteered to take on the very daunting task of creating our wedding cake. He has already come up with some preliminary plans. I will give you the drawings, but I wanted you two to meet in person.”

Robin was very interested. “Thank you. I cannot wait to see what you came up with. How long will it take?”

“My team will arrive the first of April. The Boston hotel kitchen will accommodate us for the cake baking and decorating. Not having to transport everything to the site will make it much easier. We will do all of the flowers, gum paste, and sugar sculptures immediately and let them begin to set.”

Eyes wide, she said, “It will take you three weeks to do the cake?”

“Oh yes. I would prefer five, but I have other commitments, unfortunately.”

Tony made a clicking sound with his tongue, “The Camp David thing in March.”

Marcus nodded exactly once. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll be done with that in plenty of time.”

Tony half grinned. “I’m not worried. You’ll make us proud.”

And it struck Robin, in that heart beat, that “the Camp David thing” when translated into English meant, “That cake Marcus Williams must set before the President of these United States, the First Lady, and, no doubt, select dignitaries.” This man put a higher priority on
her
wedding cake than on preparing a dessert for the leader of the free world.

Marcus looked at his watch. “I must return to the kitchen. I look forward to working with you, Miss Bartlett. Mr. Viscolli knows how to contact me if you have any specific requests or instructions.”

Marcus left them alone in the office and Robin spun in a circle. “Okay, I have to ask.”

Tony cut her off, “What’s with the shoes?”

“What’s with the shoes?” She confirmed.

“I should have told you about that in advance. I apologize.” Tony put his hand in the small of her back and his voice became almost solemn. “Some time ago, Marcus had a first cousin named Nick Williams. They were very close. Nick, fresh out of high school, joined the armed forces shortly after this great city fell under attack. Unfortunately, Nick was killed in action a few years later. There’s a much longer story about the style and choice of colors, but the bottom line is that Marcus wears those shoes to honor Nick and the men with whom he served.”

Suddenly, the purple and orange sneakers no longer struck her as funny. “And the Camp David thing?”

Tony shook his head, “Unrelated, but interesting that Marcus was handpicked, no? He probably doesn’t even prioritize it as very important. I sponsor a special youth camp each year in support of children and families of our fallen heroes. Marcus runs the kitchen for that camp every summer. I think that is where his heart really is, with those children.”