Free Greater Than Rubies, a Novella inspired by the Jewel Trilogy by Hallee A. Bridgeman Page A

which God has blessed us.”
     

Greater Than Rubies: CHAPTER 6

     
    HE meal would go down as one of the finest she had ever eaten and she felt warm and full. After dessert and coffee, Robin followed Tony through the halls of the restaurant, passing by the huge kitchen, and into a small office. It was very similar to her office at Hank’s Place. A tall man with a white chef’s hat and a chocolate stained apron waited there for them. He had black hair and a close cropped black goatee. Every aspect of his uniform looked professional from his hat to his pants except that he wore a pair of purple high top sneakers with electric orange laces.
    “Robin, I’d like to introduce to you Marcus Williams. Marcus is the head pastry chef here at the Viscolli New York, and the supervising pastry chef for all of the Viscolli restaurants around the world.”
    Marcus humbly shook her hand. “It is such a pleasure, Miss Bartlett.”
    It suddenly struck her. “I’ve seen your name on e-mails at Hank’s Place.”
    Marcus smiled, “Chef Casey is a man after my own heart. I’m trying to get free to make a visit and see if I can assist with menu updates.”
    “I can’t wait,” Robin enthused. “That mousse I just had was probably the most amazing thing I’ve ever tasted.”
    He put a hand to his heart. “You encourage me greatly.”
    Tony interjected, quietly saying as if in an aside, “Marcus has gallantly volunteered to take on the very daunting task of creating our wedding cake. He has already come up with some preliminary plans. I will give you the drawings, but I wanted you two to meet in person.”
    Robin was very interested. “Thank you. I cannot wait to see what you came up with. How long will it take?”
    “My team will arrive the first of April. The Boston hotel kitchen will accommodate us for the cake baking and decorating. Not having to transport everything to the site will make it much easier. We will do all of the flowers, gum paste, and sugar sculptures immediately and let them begin to set.”
    Eyes wide, she said, “It will take you three weeks to do the cake?”
    “Oh yes. I would prefer five, but I have other commitments, unfortunately.”
    Tony made a clicking sound with his tongue, “The Camp David thing in March.”
    Marcus nodded exactly once. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll be done with that in plenty of time.”
    Tony half grinned. “I’m not worried. You’ll make us proud.”
    And it struck Robin, in that heart beat, that “the Camp David thing” when translated into English meant, “That cake Marcus Williams must set before the President of these United States, the First Lady, and, no doubt, select dignitaries.” This man put a higher priority on her wedding cake than on preparing a dessert for the leader of the free world.
    Marcus looked at his watch. “I must return to the kitchen. I look forward to working with you, Miss Bartlett. Mr. Viscolli knows how to contact me if you have any specific requests or instructions.”
    Marcus left them alone in the office and Robin spun in a circle. “Okay, I have to ask.”
    Tony cut her off, “What’s with the shoes?”
    “What’s with the shoes?” She confirmed.
    “I should have told you about that in advance. I apologize.” Tony put his hand in the small of her back and his voice became almost solemn. “Some time ago, Marcus had a first cousin named Nick Williams. They were very close. Nick, fresh out of high school, joined the armed forces shortly after this great city fell under attack. Unfortunately, Nick was killed in action a few years later. There’s a much longer story about the style and choice of colors, but the bottom line is that Marcus wears those shoes to honor Nick and the men with whom he served.”
    Suddenly, the purple and orange sneakers no longer struck her as funny. “And the Camp David thing?”
    Tony shook his head, “Unrelated, but interesting that Marcus was handpicked, no? He probably doesn’t even prioritize it as