Chapter 11
Simplicity is a relative term. What is elegance to one can quite conceivably be utter peasantry to another.
To Paul Stone, it was not simplicity, or anything like it, that Joan had ready when he entered her living room. A pitcher of martinis were made and chilling, accompanied by shrimp cocktail, quite a feat, considering shrimp were in short supply at that time of year.
"A real Madison Avenue lunch," Paul beamed as Joan took his overcoat and hung it in the closet.
"This is hardly a routine occasion, Paul. I thought that tuna fish sandwiches might falsify my sentiments. It's the little things that express the most adequately, you know."
He smiled and said, "You're a remarkably perceptive woman, you know that?" She returned the smile.
"Thanks. Now, let's have a drink and ta
