The Bed You Make
Chapter 42, concluded
The gentle fragrance of Imperial Majesty softly washed over Philip. At over two hundred thousand dollars for a seventeen-ounce bottle, the Clive Christian signature scent was so rare and distinctive that there was no forgetting the aroma once inhaled.
"You almost missed me," Philip announced, flipping the lights back on. He did not bother to turn around and greet his guest.
"Had I been properly informed that there was a family gathering planned tonight, I would have made an earlier appearance."
"Well," Philip's tone matched the bite of his visitor's comment, "you're here now, aren't you?" He reached up, retrieved a folded apron from the overhead storage space and expertly tied it on. "And since I suspect you intend to be here a while, you can give me your opinion on a new sauce I've been experimenting with."
Philip moved back and forth between the pristine stove and stainless steel coolers, gathering objects and adding them gently to the shallow saucepan heating on the single flame. "I have only tried this with milo," he muttered to himself, "but tonight, I think the achladi would be better." The chef ducked into a walk-in closet and quickly reappeared carrying an unblemished yellow Comice pear cradled gently in his hands. Comice pears were generally considered the finest pears grown. Ripe, their creamy flesh could be eaten like custard with a spoon. Philip knew that his uninvited guest was accustomed to nothing less.
"I actually created this with you in mind," he announced. He efficiently split the pear into halves, scooped out the centers and placed them both artistically upon a heated white saucer. Philip spooned a generous amount of warm sauce into each hollow and offered the dessert to his guest.
"You have made an interesting choice. Freshly ground ginger?"
"To give it a bit of bite," Philip replied. "Like you."
Helena Cassadine sniffed delicately. Still she took several more bites of the dessert and then pushed it gracefully away. "It isn't unpleasant to the palate," she declared.
"Don't gush so. You'll give me a complex." Philip took a seat at the table. Face to face with his guest, the family resemblance stood out in glaring clarity. From the blond mane to the icy blue eyes to the slender build, Philip Gottorp and Helena Cassadine were obviously crafted from the same family mold.
"Now tell me, Auntie … what is it you want from me? You know where my loyalties lie."
Helena made a small moue of distaste. "I am well aware of your ingratitude toward me. Someday I may take offense to it." The calmly uttered response was Helena's subtle warning that Philip not take the matter of his safety lightly. "For tonight, however, I only want to know your opinion of Stefan's bride... and his marriage. "
*Milo-Apples, Achladi-Pears
