Page 57 of The Location Shoot
“Sure,” Michael replied.
“Go ahead,” Finn said.
The others nodded their agreement.
As the group focused on their menus, Finn leaned over and whispered to Ella, “What are you thinking of ordering?”
“Their marinated salmon is just divine. I’ll miss it when we leave Sweden. You?”
“Shrimp sandwich.”
“That sounds good.”
“I think I’m going to have the Swedish meatballs with lingonberries and mashed potatoes,” Albie said. “Margaret disapproves of how I eat when I’m left to my own devices, but that sounds too good to pass up.”
“Lauren, my ex, used to do that. She’d always tell me I can’t live on cheeseburgers, but in a sweet way, like she was looking out for me,” Michael said.
The women all smiled at him.
Albie tapped on the table. “I know it’s a funny thing for an actor to say, but love isn’t always how the movies make it seem. The feelings, yes, but the day-to-daydoingof love shows itself in other ways. Sometimes love is someone saying, ‘You shouldn’t eat so much salt,’ or, ‘Don’t drink too much, you’ve had enough.’ Every time Margaret prepares a meal for me, it’s an act of love. Of course, she’s my savior, I can hardly boil eggs.”
Everyone laughed.
“It must be a weird actor thing—we’re so focused on being someone other than ourselves that we never learn the basic skills of human survival,” Finn joked. “Thank God I have a private chef, or I’d be lost.”
“You have a private chef?” Ella asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah. I have a small staff.”
“Oh,” Ella said, looking down.
“You’ll meet them,” he said, rubbing her arm. “Do you like to cook?”
“Love to.”
“Ella throws the most marvelous dinner parties, complete with themes and takeaway gifts,” Albie said.
“That sounds like fun. Tell us about them,” Willow said.
“I love entertaining. Sometimes I make all the food myself, and other times I ask everyone to bring something. I don’t do potlucks as much anymore after one disastrous get-together. I was throwing a cheese and wine party, and I asked everyone to bring either a cheese or a type of charcuterie. To my dismay, everyone showed up with Brie. We had wine, crackers, and about ten wheels of Brie!”
Everyone laughed.
“I’ve done all kinds of themes: roaring twenties, midnight in Morocco, literary costume party, children’s lit book club. I decorate to go with the theme, usually finding inexpensive trinkets at party supply stores, flea markets, or antique shops. It makes it festive and gives people something to talk about, kind of like an icebreaker. I always make little party favors for my guests to take home with them, even if it’s just something small like a chocolate truffle or a copy of a poem.”
“That’s so nice,” Finn said, putting his arm around her.
“When you showed me photos of your house, I thought it would be an amazing location for a Great Gatsby party. Everyone could dress up, and we could serve finger foods and buckets of champagne.”
He smiled brightly. “Count me in. I’m an actor, so you know I love playing dress-up. You’d be an amazing Daisy.”
“I’ve never thrown a party in a house like yours. It would be such fun.” She turned back to the group. “No matter how small my apartment is, I find a way to cram a big group in. I once cooked a seven-course tasting menu on my one little burner in my Parisian loft. That was a challenge. Sometimes it’s simpler, and I’ll just make a cake and have people over for coffee and tea. When you get a group of artists and intellectuals together, it doesn’t take much—you can spend hours talking, just nibbling on a baguette.”
“Or ten wheels of Brie!” Michael joked.
They all laughed.
“This is a damn fun group,” Albie said. “I so enjoy breaking bread with all of you.”
