Bertrice Small - Forbidden Pleasure

"Rina, Dr. Sam," Emily greeted them, turning. Then, looking back at Michael Devlin, she said, "Upstairs to the left, second door. And come back down to meet my friends." She gave him a smile before she moved away to welcome her other guests.

He mounted the staircase, and as he went he heard the newly arrived woman say, "My God, Emily, he's even more gorgeous close up! Are you sure you want us to stay for dinner? If I were in your shoes I'd want him all to myself." Devlin grinned to himself.

"Rina, he'll hear you," Emily said, and felt her cheeks growing warm.

Dr. Sam Seligmann chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere, Rina. I smell roast beef."

"Like I never cook?" Rina Seligmann said as they entered the gracious parlor of the house. She plunked herself into a comfortable club chair.

"You cook fine, but not like our Emily," Dr. Sam answered his spouse. "Shall I make everyone a drink?"

"For you and Rina, and Mick when he comes back down," Emily said. "We're having wine with dinner, and you know me-two glasses of anything is my limit."

Dr. Sam stirred up a pitcher of martinis, and had just poured one for his wife and for himself when Michael Devlin entered the room. Catching his eye, Dr. Sam held up the pitcher and tilted his head to one side quizzically.

"Martinis?" Devlin asked.

"Yep," Dr. Sam said.

"We're having wine with dinner," Emily put in quickly.

"Then I shall satisfy myself with a sherry, if you have it," Devlin replied.

"One sherry coming up," Dr. Sam answered, putting the martini pitcher down. "I'm Sam Seligmann, town doctor. My wife, Rina."

"You were the driver for Emily the other day in the city, weren't you?" Devlin asked, now remembering the brief glimpse he had had of Rina Seligmann. "You're Aaron Fischer's sister. Am I right?"

"His little sister," Rina responded with a grin. "He was almost eight when I came into the world. The prince of the family until my arrival." She chuckled.

"And he's terrified of her," Emily said, laughing.

"As well it should be," Rina Seligmann answered smugly.

Devlin laughed too. "I'm an only child," he told them. "I envy you a sibling."

The small talk continued back and forth, with Emily running in and out of the kitchen overseeing her meal. Finally she announced it was ready, and they all trooped to the table. Taking her place at the head of the table, she asked Devlin to sit at the other end, and the Seligmanns took their place on either side, as was their custom.

"Will you carve the roast beast?" she asked him, and he saw she had placed the platter with the meat before him. Before it was a carving knife and fork with bone handles. They were obviously very old.

The meat had been done perfectly. As he carved, he saw the medium-rare pieces fall from his knife from the outside, and the very rare bit of the meat was farther inside. He asked for preferences, and placed the appropriate slices upon the plates. The platter was then taken from him by Emily to be set upon the sideboard. A bowl of exquisitely roasted potatoes was passed. Then a smaller platter of fresh asparagus. There were two gravy boats: one with the au jus, and the other with a flawless Hollandaise sauce for the vegetable. There were dainty hot rolls, a silver dish of sweet butter, and tomato aspic salad on separate plates to each diner's left.

As they ate he learned that Dr. Sam's family had been early settlers of Egret Pointe. He was surprised until Dr. Sam explained that his ancestors had come to the Americas in 1709. It wasn't, Dr. Sam said, a well-known fact of American history, but there had been a number of Jewish families who had emigrated then. "We fought in the Revolution," he said proudly. "On the winning side, of course."

"And then he went and married a girl from the Upper West Side whose family was chased out of Russia by a troop of Cossacks," Rina said.

"But that's what makes our country so great," Emily spoke up. "We're such a wonderful mixture of peoples and cultures." She was glad she had asked the Seligmanns to help her defuse what might have been an awkward evening.

When they had finished almost everything Emily had prepared, she and Rina cleared the table for the dessert while the two men sat talking.

"God, he has such charm," Rina said, scraping the plates for the dishwasher. "He looks like a Celtic prince, and that delicious hint of Ireland in his voice." She sighed.

"He's very nice," Emily murmured.

"Huh?" Rina replied, looking closely at her younger companion. "Oh, my! You're attracted to him, aren't you, Emily Shanski? Well, why not, says I?"

"I don't even know him," Emily protested. "We just met on Tuesday. We've spoken once on the phone, and today is Friday."

"You've got an itch for him," Rina accused her with a grin. "I've known you most of your life, Em, and I've never known you to be attracted to any man. There have been times I've wondered if you weren't gay, like Aaron."

"I haven't got an itch, Rina, and I'm not a lesbian," Emily responded. "I just haven't had time for men, and I sure as hell didn't want to be like Katy and Joe. Have you any idea how hard it was for me in high school, with most of the same teachers they had had always watching, always waiting for me to fall from grace?"

"They never knew your mother had fallen from grace, as you so dramatically put it, until she was graduated, and at Wellesley," Rina said. "Thanks to your grandmothers your impending arrival was quite the surprise to everyone in Egret Pointe."

"That's what made it so hard for me," Emily replied. "Katy fooled them. Was I fooling them? Why do you think I worked so hard to get out of here, and into college?"

"Water under the bridge," Rina said. "You're a best-selling author now with a hot new editor. He isn't married. You're both fancy-free. Hell, if I were you I'd lay him!"

"Why does everyone keep saying that to me?" Emily wanted to know.

"Who else said it?" Rina asked.

"Savannah. I talked to her the other day. He was her editor in London, and I wanted to know more about him," Emily answered.

"And?" Rina's look of curiosity was so blatant that Emily had to laugh.

"To quote Savannah, the women flock to him like flies to jam, but he likes to pick his own friends," Emily said. "I doubt I'm his type."

"I think you're just his type. He's Irish, for heaven's sake. They like their women intelligent, good cooks, and just a little helpless at the right moments. You can play helpless, can't you, sweetie? Where's the dessert?"

"Fridge," Emily said. "I am not helpless, Rina."

Rina Seligmann opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a large glass bowl. "Don't tell me you haven't thought of having him between your legs, because I won't believe you. A woman would have to be made of stone to look at that man and not want him. What is this?" She looked suspiciously at the bowl she was holding.

"Chocolate trifle," Emily answered. "I couldn't make up my mind between mousse and trifle. So I made chocolate lady fingers, and mousse for filling with the sliced strawberries."

Rina began to laugh. "Yep, you're hot for him."

"How can you say that?" Emily wanted to know. It was embarrassing to be so damned transparent. Did Michael Devlin see what Rina saw?

"The double chocolate is a dead giveaway," Rina replied.

Emily blushed furiously. "Do you think he'll notice?" she asked nervously.

"Nah," Rina reassured her. "But you do know he likes you, don't you?"

"Rina, we've just met," Emily said exasperated.

"Look, sweetie, if there is one thing I understand, it's men. I know, I know. I've been married to Sam since I turned twenty, but I still know human nature. It isn't how long you've known someone. If there's chemistry it's there from the start. And there is definitely chemistry between you two. Enjoy it! You've worked hard all your life trying to make up for what you consider Katy and Joe's mistake. You weren't a mistake, Emily. Oh, I know. Your parents weren't lovers, and their coming together was a onetime thing. But they were best friends from the time they were in diapers. You were created from that loving friendship. You don't have to be a saint to make up for them. They created you, had you, and moved on with their lives. Time for you to move on, sweetie. Is there any whipped cream to go with this devilish creation?"