Free Doreen by Ilana Manaster

read her. And clearly, she’d been right.
    â€œHow kind of you, Ms. Gray, but I’m afraid your friend would prefer that we be on our way.” He raised an eyebrow to Heidi.
    â€œSit if you must,” said Heidi, “but if you insist on discussing yourself or your studies, I’m afraid I will require something stronger.”
    â€œOf course! Shall we have the champagne back? Or how about a round of martinis? It’s after three, isn’t it?”
    â€œI suppose,” Heidi said, and Peter disappeared to locate the waiter. Coburn walked around to sit beside Doreen. He reeked of salt and soap and money. Doreen turned toward him.
    â€œSo . . . did he say you were at Harvard? I wasn’t really listening.”
    Heidi could not have said it better herself.

    Naturally they moved from drinks to dinner. The portions were miniature and artfully presented. There was raw beef and living oysters and seared duck liver and wine, of course, wine for days. Remarkably, Doreen said yes to everything—she was game to taste it all, to be exposed to delicacies the likes of which she could not possibly have imagined.
    Heidi remembered what that was like, to experience everything for the first time, and watching Doreen made her enjoy her own meal even more. Dessert was a pear tart and chocolate mousse and they had sweet wine and coffee and when it was time to get up from the table, Heidi was afraid Doreen might swoon.
    â€œAre you okay?” she whispered to her friend.
    â€œOh, yes, yes. Just happy,” said Doreen, and Heidi could see it shining in the girl’s dewy face.
    â€œNightcap in our room?” asked Peter. “Don’t worry, we are gentlemen.”
    â€œOh, I hope not.” Heidi held out a hand to him so he could help her around the chair and gestured that Doreen do the same.
    â€œWould you mind taking these, Coburn?” Doreen waved a hand over the shopping bags. “I hate to be bogged down.”
    The girl is a quick study , thought Heidi, grinning despite herself.
    â€œCoburn was trying to convince me to stay at one of the newer places—a boutique hotel or something with a single name. What? The George or somesuch. The Ted, I don’t know. He’s very interested in being hip. Aren’t you, Coburn?”
    â€œNot very,” said Coburn. He leered at Doreen.
    Heidi hoped she didn’t mind taking the dumb one. He was good practice, like playing a new card game open-handed.
    â€œBut for me, nothing beats the classic elegance of the Ritz. I mean, look at this view! Can you beat it? I guess I’m old-fashioned,” said Peter, making it seem like being old-fashioned was the most wonderful way to be.
    There was a light knock on the door. “Room service!” A cart with scotch and four glasses was wheeled into the room. Peter popped up to sign the check. He pulled a few more notes from his billfold and handed them to the waitress. The guy was obviously loaded. Heidi gave him a look that she hoped seemed simultaneously alluring and thankful.
    â€œThank you, that will be all,” he said to the waitress.
    But the girl wasn’t looking at him. For some reason she was looking at Heidi, practically staring at her.
    â€œHeidi?” she said. Heidi froze. She looked down at her nails. Oh no oh no oh no oh no . How could she have missed this ? She didn’t know what to do. “Heidi Whelan! Oh my god, it’s Nicole Goswami from the Montauk! I thought that was you. I haven’t seen you in a couple of years. How have you been?”
    â€œOh, uh, Nicole. Sure, yes, hello,” said Heidi. Nicole pulled her in for a tight hug.
    â€œYeah, I bet you didn’t recognize me! I bet you didn’t know I was workin’ here! I still go down to Montauk in the summers, but the bills need to be paid all year round! You know what I mean.”
    â€œOf course,” said Heidi. She felt a flush burn from her face down into her