Chapter 27
The orchid, queen of exoticism, a mute observer slow to reveal the mysteries of her petals. Would that I had such patience, too. –DB
1 March, 1940 - Beverly Hills, California
A week later, Abigail had just stepped into her high-heeled satin pumps when two sharp knocks sounded at the door of her Beverly Hills bungalow. Recognizing Lou’s signal, she strode to meet him, kissing him on the cheek. He smelled deliciously of Bay Rum cologne, and his impeccably styled silver hair shone against the midnight black of his tuxedo.
“Good evening, Abigail. Hmm, marvelous perfume. One of Danielle’s?”
“It’s Joie de Bretancourt. Tell me, what do you think of the dress?” She whirled around in her navy silk Bretancourt evening dress, unusual in its sleek simplicity, and the perfect backdrop f
