Free Meet Me in Venice by Elizabeth Adler

life.”
    “Even in Shanghai? I hear the food is wonderful there, so inventive, so exotic.”
    “But this is different. I might have to move to Paris so I can eat at Verlaine more often.”
    Sylvie beamed at the compliment. “I’ll welcome you anytime,” she assured him, and then, while they ate a small but perfect salad, followed by a selection of impeccable cheeses, she went back to her kitchen and prepared the simplest and most old-fashioned ofFrench desserts called floating islands. This was a light egg custard topped with meltingly soft egg whites whipped with sugar, then shaped with a tablespoon into “islands,” that she “floated” on the custard. She finished it with a dusting of crushed pralines. It looked beautiful and perfectly simple but in Sylvie ‘s hands it became a sublime blending of delicate flavors and textures.
    “Floating islands,” Bennett exclaimed when she presented it. “It almost sounds Chinese. I think I might have to abduct you, Sylvie, get you to open a restaurant in Shanghai.”
    They laughed, and glancing at Preshy who was gazing admiringly at Bennett, Sylvie was glad to see her so happy. And besides, the man couldn’t take his eyes off her. Sylvie was surprised the two of them had even had time to eat the floating islands, they were so absorbed in each other.
    Later she went and sat with them as they lingered over coffee, reminiscing with Preshy about their summers with Daria on Cape Cod.
    “I have to take you there sometime,” Preshy said eagerly to Bennett. Then, realizing what she had said, she quickly backtracked. “Of course you’re much too busy for anything like that.”
    “I could make time,” Bennett replied, giving her that long look that Sylvie noted reduced her friend to a simmering silence.
    He glanced regretfully at his watch—expensive, Sylvie observed, thankful that at least Preshy hadn’t been hit on by a hard-up struggling artist, something that had happened before in her friend’s search for “love.” Not only was Bennett James handsome, he seemed respectable and rich.
    He said they had to go and they left in a flurry of good-nightkisses and promises from Bennett to return. As soon as they’d gone Sylvie was on the phone to Daria.
    “Well?” Daria said.
    “It’s too late, she’s sunk.”
    “Is it that bad?”
    “He seems too good to be true. The only flaw is the Shanghai bit. Six thousand miles is a long way.”
    “Yeah, but they could always find a way around that,” Daria said, then she laughed. “Listen to us, talking like a pair of old matchmakers and Preshy’s only known him twenty-four hours.”
    “Maybe it’s enough,” Sylvie said, remembering how they had looked at each other.

FIFTEEN
    D ID you really enjoy it?” Preshy asked as she and Bennett strolled hand in hand back through the maze of little side streets that led down to the rue Jacob.
    “I thought it was wonderful.” Bennett was looking at her. Raindrops misted her hair and her eyes had an underwater aquamarine quality. “But I was happy just to be with you,” he added.
    She squeezed his hand, smiling. “Me too,” she said shyly.
    Ignoring the rain, they stopped to look in the illuminated shop windows, criticizing the paintings in the many galleries and admiring the antiques and clothing boutiques. When they finally found themselves back in the courtyard, this time Preshy asked if he would like to come up. “For a nightcap,” she added with a gigglebecause it sounded like such a ploy, which of course it was. She wasn’t about to let him get away tonight.
    Bennett followed her in, looking around at the pleasant place she had made home. He helped her off with her wet jacket, removed his own, then took her in his arms.
    “No nightcaps,” he murmured, pushing her wet curls behind her ears. “It’s just us, Preshy . . . you and me . . .” She twined her arms around his neck, waiting for his kiss. “Is this what you truly want, darling Preshy?” he said