The House of Seven Mabels

suppliers or people they want to hire and wish to impress. Shelley’s husband is a good example.“
    Shelley looked at her blankly, wondering just what Bitsy thought she knew about Paul. He had been born poor and Polish and had built up a chain of cheap Greek fast-food restaurants. He’d clawed his way up from a run-down two-bedroom house he’d shared with his parents and seven siblings, and when he and Shelley entertained Paul’s friends, employees, suppliers, and neighbors, it was for the pure pleasure of doing so. A pleasure for him, at least. Not always for Shelley.
    “The house I’ve selected is very close to the El line,“ Bitsy plowed on, “so it’s handy to the city. Although I suspect most of the people who will be using the home will be chauffeured to the city anyway. I intend to provide—for a hefty fee—one or more of these corporations with the perfect home to house their most important guests when they visit.“
    “Sounds like a good idea,“ Jane admitted.
    “So it has to be the height of luxury,“ Bitsy said, preening. “A main kitchen always stocked with elegant foods and suitable for catering. Bathrooms to die for. The best and biggest beds and the best real linens. Complete privacy between the two wings, which will both have access to the kitchen. That way two groups can stay there without running into one another. Well-stocked bars in the suites. Banquet facilities. Elegant furnishings...“
    “Is that where we come in?“ Jane asked.
    “Exactly!“ Bitsy exclaimed. “I’ve been in Shelley’s home and it’s lovely. I assume that since you live next door and are good friends, yours is lovely as well.“
    Jane just smiled at Bitsy’s misapprehension of Jane’s decorating skills. Shelley made a noise that could have been a sneeze, or more likely a subdued snort.
    “I have the paperwork to let you into the professional decorators’ place downtown,“ Bitsy said proudly.
    “The Merchandise Mart?“ Shelley asked, impressed.
    “What we want is sheer elegance, with a slight hint of Victoriana. Suitable to an old Victorian house, you see. But not feminine. There probably won’t be very many wives coming along, but every detail must suit them when they do accompany a husband.“
    This seemed odd to Jane. Such ardent feminists speaking of women merely as wives. “What about that woman who is the president and CEO of eBay?“ she asked.
    “What’s eBay?“ Sandra asked.
    Shelley nudged Jane. Jane didn’t understand the nudge unless it meant, “Keep your trap shut,“ which it probably did.
    “Never mind,“ Shelley said. “I think we understand.“
    The food arrived and they abandoned business talk temporarily. The filets were indeed the best Jane had tasted. Tiny but thick. Perfectly cooked. They sat in solitary splendor in a pool of divinely rich brown gravy, piled high with chunks of an unfamiliar but good cheese, with frilly baby celery stalks impaled on the cheese. Anything for height, Jane thought to herself. There were barely cooked tiny peas to the side with shreds of mint scattered on them, and a log of scalloped potatoes, adorned with finely minced basil.
    The other two women’s salads likewise were works of art. Exotic greens and tiny fruits Jane couldn’t identify, along with lightly cooked pearl onions, baby yellow-skinned potatoes, more frilly celery, and julienned peppers in red, green, purple, and yellow.
    Even if she and Shelley turned down the job they were being offered, this was truly a meal she’d never forget.
    A meal to die for, she thought, not meaning to be prophetic.

Three

    Jane had to undo a button on the waistband of her knockout green silk suit on the way home. Shelley had forced her to buy it on sale a couple of months earlier.
    “I’m a blimp,“ Jane said. “I should have worn something larger to eat so much. That raspberry chocolate torte put me over the brink.“
    “I told you you’d get a good meal out of the meeting,“ Shelley said smugly.
    “Are you really thinking of doing this?“ Jane said, trying not to see how fast the landscape was zipping by. She was afraid to lean over and see what speed Shelley was going.
    “I think it’s something we should at least consider,“ Shelley said. “We’re to see the house tomorrow, and Bitsy says she’ll have a contract for us to look over. But frankly, I’m a bit uneasy about it.“
    “Elaborate, please,“ Jane said. So far she’d thought she was the only one who didn’t