At home, a symphony of sounds came from his kitchen. Boiling eggs, searing tuna, slicing tomatoes, cheese, and lettuce. He was busy slicing lemons, opening jars of capers, and measuring out olive oil to dress the salad. Once again, he did this in his bare feet. I enjoyed the image. He looked so casual, and yet there was nothing casual about the way he prepared anything.

As we ate and drank another delicious meal, we settled again into relaxed conversation. I noticed that even at night without natural light, this room held a gleaming elegance. It was a bit formal, which I liked, but it was a room you could feel quite naturally at home in.

Later on, we were tender with each other, slow with each other. Our kisses seemed important. So were our touches. Our eyes held each other’s. They expressed our love and devotion. I was happy. Our being together felt like the essence of contentment.

Monday morning, as I gathered my things, I felt the pull of sadness. Being sad about going home caught me by surprise. As I gathered my toothbrush, I wondered what toiletries, if any, I could take home. Elliott noticed my hesitation.

“I wanted to ask you this all weekend. But I would never want to rush you, Bailey. But this place, this apartment, I did for you. I would really like for you to move in with me.”

I didn’t answer him. I hesitated. While I declined a formal change of residence immediately, there was a definite shift in where I spent most of my time. Elliott had single-handedly lifted the cloak of seriousness and sadness I often wore and replaced it with a colorful swing coat full of fun.

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Autumn arrived in her customary fashion in New York. The lush colors receded from the trees. The happy blues disappeared from the skyline. Even the cheerful colors in the planters on Park Avenue became more muted. Life was beginning to grow smaller and shrivel up. But not inside me. Life and love, like the essence of hope, exploded within me.

Elliott and I attended the 40 Under 40 awards gala at the Waldorf Astoria. I procured my first long dress for the occasion at Bloomingdale’s. Henry and Griffin sent congratulatory flowers.

Elliott and I were becoming quite the “It Couple,” especially in the culinary world of New York City. I was even introduced to Danny Meyer and David Bouley. I told David his restaurant, in my opinion, was the perfect union of sumptuous food and incredible atmosphere. I told him I had had my most memorable meal at his restaurant. They were both surprisingly approachable. We extended invitations to each of them.