Jennifer remained at the edge of the crowd, observing the scene.
Mr. Vance made the usual appropriate remarks, ending with a spiel about how lucky they were to have with them today that giant of the sports world, a great humanitarian and a true gentleman, etc., etc., Lee Youngson!
Lee stepped up to the microphone during a thunderous ovation. He lifted his arms to ask for quiet and then launched into his talk.
Jennifer had to admire his technique. He played to the crowd like a headliner in the Copa Room of the Sands in Las Vegas. They hung on his every word, laughing at his team anecdotes, listening in openmouthed silence to each sentence as if he were delivering the Sermon on the Mount. She had never seen the exercise of such power. He held them in the palm of his hand…They were his. It was a wonder to behold.
When he finished and sat again to more enthusiastic applause, the others took their turn and spoke briefly. The mayor was up last, thanking everyone as mayors generally do, and then Lee and he cut the ribbon to open the mall officially.
Jennifer watched as they posed for newspaper photographers and gave interviews to television journalists from the local stations. Jennifer listened closely to what was said and distributed releases to the reporters as they milled about the area. Lee was signing autographs and stopped to have his picture taken with his arm around the pageant winner, who smiled up at him seductively. Jennifer viewed the scene for a few moments, then looked away.
It was one in the afternoon by the time it was over, and Jennifer’s feet ached from standing all that time. Lee had handled everything graciously. Why not, Jennifer thought sourly, he’d been through so many of these things he could probably do this number in his sleep. Then she felt slightly guilty at her cynicism. She could at least give him credit for a job well done.
The driver arrived to collect them shortly thereafter, and Lee slipped out a side exit with Jennifer. As they approached the waiting car he said to her, casually, “How about some lunch?”
“No, thank you,” Jennifer said primly.
He glanced at her. “Why not? Aren’t you hungry?”
In point of fact, she was starving. I’d like to get home, I have a number of things to do today,” she said.
“Can’t they wait a little while? We’ll go someplace where I won’t be bothered.”
“Where might that be?” Jennifer asked sarcastically. “Antarctica?”
He shot her a look and then said quietly, “Two hours, Ms. Gardiner. Is that too much to ask?”
Jennifer paused, intrigued. Why not? she reasoned. She was curious about his persistence. He seemed determined to get her to agree.
“All right,” she said. “Just tell the driver where you’d like to go.”
“Is that permitted?” Lee asked, smiling slightly. “I wouldn’t want to break any of your rules. He can drop me back to get my own car if you think that would be advisable.”
“I’ll take the responsibility,” Jennifer said evenly.
“Well, if you’re sure,” Lee answered. “I just want you to be sure.”
She looked at him and saw that teasing glint in his eye.
“Mr. Youngson, I believe you’re pulling my leg,” she said.
“Ms. Gardiner, I’m not, but I’d love to,” he replied.
Jennifer let that one pass. They got into the car and Lee instructed the driver to take them to an address in Newtown, which turned out to be a bustling, crowded Italian restaurant. Lee dismissed the driver and they approached the entrance, where a bald, rotund, middle-aged man could be seen through the plate glass window, making change at the register. Lee signaled to him from the sidewalk, and the man broke into a broad grin, collaring a younger man to take over for him and rushing outside to greet them.
“Chief! How ya doin!? Angelo wrote his mother you’d be coming out here, and then I saw it in the papers and on TV. What’s happening, where ya stayin’?”
The two men had a very physical reunion, with much hugging and backslapping, and then Lee introduced Jennifer to his friend, Sal Barbetti, the owner of the restaurant. Sal’s nephew, Angelo, was a second string quarterback for the Broncos, and Lee had met his family when they were out visiting Angelo.
“Hey, Chief, I never forget what you did for my boy, I mean it Anything you want, anytime, no charge. You’re always welcome here. That kid is a changed boy since, you should see him.”
Jennifer glanced curiously at Lee, who was frowning at Sal, trying to make him drop the subject Sal finally took the hint and did so, leaving Jennifer burning with the desire to know what they were talking about. But the riddle would not be solved that day. Sal hustled them around the comer of the building and took them in through the kitchen entrance, setting up a table for them in a quiet alcove behind the busboys’ station. Every few minutes a dark-haired teenager would dash past in a red jacket, grabbing a tray full of glasses or a stack of dishes. Jennifer winced as she waited for a crash, but it never came. They were remarkably adept.
Sal shook out a red and white checkered tablecloth and repolished the already sparkling glassware before putting it on the table. He inspected the silverware for spots it didn’t have and then pulled a paper tablet from his back pocket.
“I take your order myself, one of these idiots here might get it wrong,” he said.
Lee smiled at Jennifer. “What would you like?”
“Could I have a salad?”
The owner beamed at her. “Best salad in the house, beautiful lady, plus pasta, veal scaloppini or parmigiana, we got it all.”
“I think just the salad.”
Sal’s smile faded. “What do you mean, that’s all?” He stared at Lee. “What’s a matter with you, Chief, you got to get this girl to eat Look at her, she’s a bone.”
Lee coughed delicately, trying not to laugh. “I know, Sal, what can I tell you. Look, bring me the veal, just give the lady an antipasto, okay?”
Sal scribbled unhappily on his note pad and then seemed to have a thought which brightened him up a little. “I bring you dessert, lady,” he kissed his fingers, “cannoli, tortoni, melt in your mouth, you see.” He nodded, beaming, and took off to get their order.
“Wait until you see the salad he brings you,” Lee grinned. “You could live off it for a week.”
“What was he talking about when we first came here, something to do with his son, a favor you did for them?”
Lee made a gesture of dismissal. “Oh, don’t pay any attention to that, Sal is just one of those people, heart as big as the Atlantic, effusive, eternal gratitude for any little thing you do for him, you know the type. It was nothing.”
Jennifer was sure he was lying, but she didn’t know why. “Do you always get such special treatment?” she asked, changing the subject.
He chuckled. “From Sal, yeah. He takes care of me.”
“In other words, rank has its privileges.”
Lee sobered, looking up at her. “I think it has more to do with friendship, but if you want to look at it that way, yes.”
“Can’t have Lee Youngson waiting around for a table with the rest of the peons,” Jennifer went on.
Lee sighed. “Are you trying to pick a fight?” he asked, arching his brows.
“What’s wrong, Mr. Youngson, this little luncheon date not working out the way you planned? Am I not suitably impressed? You should have asked Miss Bucks County Apple Polisher to lunch, I’m sure she would have been more congenial.”
“Apple Princess,” Lee corrected, amused. “And I asked you because I wanted to talk to you.”
A waiter scuttled over and deposited a carafe of ice water on the table, pausing a moment to stare at Lee.
“Talk,” Jennifer said.
Lee waited until the boy had left, and then folded his arms on his chest and surveyed her critically.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the distinct impression you don’t care much for me.”
Nonplussed, Jennifer made no reply.
“The first time we met,” he continued, “you gave me that ‘you’re too stupid to understand’ routine, which I suspect was deliberate, and ever since then, despite a thin veneer of politeness on your part, I feel a definite chill in the air. You’re only here with me right now because I practically coerced you into it Now why is that, Ms. Gardiner?”