Buku Park Avenue Summer by Renée Rosen

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Park Avenue Summer by Renée Rosen

Author:Renée Rosen

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

Published: 2019-04-29T16:00:00+00:00

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Park Avenue Summer by Renée Rosen

* * *

• • •

The Dakota was an impressive address to call home. Between the sweeping courtyard, its gables and dormers, the ornate spandrel archways, it looked like a Gothic castle to me. When I approached the main entrance, I was greeted by the uniformed doorman, who telephoned Elaine, announced my arrival and showed me to the elevator, where another uniformed man delivered me to the fifth floor.

 

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Park Avenue Summer by Renée Rosen

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Park Avenue Summer by Renée Rosen

 

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Park Avenue Summer by Renée Rosen

Author:Renée Rosen , Date: June 12, 2019

,Views: 81

Author:Renée Rosen

Language: eng

Format: epub

Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group

Published: 2019-04-29T16:00:00+00:00
* * *

• • •

The Dakota was an impressive address to call home. Between the sweeping courtyard, its gables and dormers, the ornate spandrel archways, it looked like a Gothic castle to me. When I approached the main entrance, I was greeted by the uniformed doorman, who telephoned Elaine, announced my arrival and showed me to the elevator, where another uniformed man delivered me to the fifth floor.

Elaine answered the door before I rang the bell. Her silver hair was loose upon her shoulders and she was dressed in a flowing cream-colored tunic with black piping along the sleeves and collar. There was soft music playing on her hi-fi system, some sort of jazz.

“You have a gorgeous home,” I said, stepping into a room enveloped by emerald green drapes, an elegant sofa and matching overstuffed chairs. The crystal chandelier, suspended in the foyer, shimmered down on the rich mahogany floor. I wasn’t a good judge of spatial calculations but I would have guessed her ceilings were twelve feet high.

“I’m glad you like it. What can I get you to drink? A martini?” She walked over to a glass cart sporting brown and blue bottles of gin, bourbon, vodka and wine along with a sterling silver ice bucket just beginning to bead up with condensation, as if freshly filled.

“A martini would be great.”

Noting that I was careful to sidestep around the zebra skin area rug sprawled out on the living room floor, she laughed and said, “It’s okay. He won’t bite. You can walk on him.” She poured some gin and vermouth in a silver shaker. “I’m almost done decorating. At least for now. I suppose I’ll get bored again soon enough and redo it all.”

“You did this? Yourself? Without a decorator?”

She smiled as if it was no big deal and poured two martinis, leaving the perfect amount of room at the top for an olive. “It’s a hobby.” She handed me my drink and gave my glass a delicate clink with hers. “Now tell me,” she said, “how are things going at work?”

“Much better, thanks to you.”

“I hope that young man—what was his name again?”

“Erik.”

“Erik, right. I hope he’s been behaving himself.”

“He won’t be bothering me again.” I took another sip of my martini. I hadn’t seen Erik since the party and that was fine by me. I was sad that it was over, but I was done with him and grateful that I hadn’t gotten myself in any deeper. I was safe now. My heart had moved, far outside his reach.

We took our drinks into the living room, the two of us sitting on her overstuffed chairs. I was hoping she’d bring out the photos of my mother soon, but Elaine seemed in no hurry to get to those.

“What did you think of the lecture last night?” she asked.

“It was a lot to take in. Makes you think. We were talking afterward about how Betty Friedan says one thing and Helen Gurley Brown says another.”

“They’re as different as night and day.

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