dishes were Italian. “I thought maybe Randisi’s.”
Randisi’s was a five-star restaurant on the East Side. Some thought it was the best Italian restaurant in the city.
“Sounds wonderful.”
He smiled. “Good. I made a reservation.”
At the restaurant Shellie heard David tell the maitre d’ there was an eight o’clock reservation for Clyde. Shellie smiled. David always used the name Mr. Clyde when he made reservations, or simply the first name Clyde when asked to leave a name on a waiting list. It wasn’t a bad name, but it certainly didn’t fit his handsome, assured, and debonair presence. She looked at him, so well tailored in a dark blue suit, white-on-white shirt, gray silk tie. Not your usual Clyde. She felt a swell of pride. Her David.
“Mr. and Mrs. Clyde” were almost immediately shown to a good table near a wide window with a view of the East River.
They had martinis, then ordered antipasto and cannelloni. David asked for a good red wine. “To celebrate,” he said.
“What are we celebrating?” Shellie asked.
“My arrival home.”
“You’ve only been gone a weekend.”
“It’s always a cause for celebration when I return to you.”
“Am I not worth champagne?”
He grinned. “Shellie, Shellie. You must know you have me in your spell.” He leaned over the table, looking serious. “Do you want champagne?”
She shook her head no, feeling ashamed. “No, darling. I was only testing you.”
“Do I pass?”
“A-plus,” she said. They were talking like two people in a sophisticated play, she thought. This amused her and made her feel slightly silly simultaneously. The swank surroundings must be affecting them. Role playing again. Well, so what? That was all everyone actually did, when you came right down to it. She didn’t see what was wrong with that when she could see so much of what was right with it.
The food, as usual at Randisi’s, was wonderful. As was the wine. David knew how to choose.
Outside the restaurant, they were both a bit tipsy. Shellie leaned against David for support.
He was about to hail a cab when a gleaming dark car pulled to the curb near them. It was a big car, a Chrysler. They were on a one-way street, and the driver’s side was only a few feet away from the sidewalk. The window glided down.
Shellie assumed the driver would be with a service and he’d try to talk them into taking the car instead of climbing into a cab. She was surprised to see an attractive, hard-faced woman about forty with a gray buzz cut and no makeup. She wore a black pullover shirt with the collar turned up. Her arms were slim but muscular, and Shellie saw that the hand resting on the steering wheel was gloved. Driving gloves, she assumed. Maybe this was a professional driver and the big Chrysler was a car for hire.
“Need a ride, bro?” the woman asked, looking at David.
“I’ll be damned,” David said. “What are you doing here, Gloria?”
“I was on my way home and happened to see you. New York’s not so big that coincidences don’t sometimes occur.”
“Obviously not,” David said.
“Anyway, this is my neighborhood. Or at least I regularly drive through it.”
Now the woman looked at Shellie. She had dark eyes, deeply set and intense. “You must be Shellie.”
David squeezed Shellie’s arm. “This is my sister, Gloria, Shellie. The only person in New York I’ve told about us.”
“David and I always share the good things,” Gloria said. Her dark eyes took on a glitter in the reflected red light of the restaurant’s illuminated sign. “That’s the way it’s been since we were children. I know my brother well, and I haven’t seen him fall so hard for a woman in years. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.”
“Same here,” Shellie said. She moved forward, one foot off the curb, and shook the leather-gloved hand proffered through the open window. Gloria smiled at her, an unexpectedly beautiful smile that caused Shellie to smile back.
“Listen,” Gloria said, her dark glance darting from one to the other, “why don’t you two come up to my place and have a drink? Afterward, I’ll drive you home. I really do want to get to know you, Shellie. Everything I hear is so positive. Like, finally, you’re the one.”
Shellie felt a warm rush. That was always what she’d wanted to be to some man, what she was now—special, the one. She could hear David saying it to his sister. “She’s the one, Gloria.”
“Maybe some other time,” is what he was saying to Gloria now.
Shellie tugged at his arm. “It’s okay, David. We have time.”
He was shaking his head. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“What are you, ashamed of me?” Gloria asked. She seemed amused by the idea.
“You know better than that, Gloria.”
“Then don’t be so damned secretive, David. The way you’ve been bragging about this woman to me, I should think you’d want us to get to know one another.” Her dark eyes fixed on Shellie. “I mean it, Shellie. This brother of mine is gaga for you. We really should talk about him for a change.”
“She has a point, David.”
He moved closer and looked down at Shellie. There was a strained expression in his face she hadn’t seen before. The wine, maybe. They’d certainly had enough of it. “You’re sure?”
“It sounds wonderful. Your sister!” Family. “We really should get acquainted.”
After a slight hesitation, he smiled. “Okay. As long as you two don’t gang up on me.”
He opened the big sedan’s rear door and let Shellie enter first. Then he took a seat beside her. There was over a foot of space between them on the seat. It was as if David didn’t want to demonstrate his affection for her in front of his sister by sitting too close.
As Gloria pushed the selector to “drive” and the car pulled away from the curb, Shellie noticed a pungent, brackish smell.
“Do you smoke?” she asked Gloria, without thinking. “Not that I mean to pry.”
“It’s that obvious?”
“I’m afraid so. Unless somebody else who smokes has been in the car recently.”
Shellie saw Gloria’s right cheek change contour in the shadows, maybe a smile.
“I thought you might be asking for a cigarette,” Gloria said.
“No, I don’t smoke. Not that it’s any of my business whether or not you do.
