Fairytale of New York (18 page)

I don’t know what I expected Gray & Connelle’s offices to look like, but what I saw certainly wasn’t it. I think I’d pictured Nate and his colleagues working in a dusty, wood-panelled library, sitting beneath huge book skyscrapers surrounded by half-read, yet-to-be-read and discarded manuscripts from hopeful writers. The reality couldn’t have been further removed from that. Instead of resembling something from an Agatha Christie novel, his office was light and contemporary: the minimum of clutter and the minimum of fuss—and not a dusty book or dog-eared manuscript in sight.

I reckon New York has an agency specifically devoted to providing über-stylish and ultra-efficient receptionists for its many swanky offices. The receptionist at Gray & Connelle seemed to be about six feet tall (most of which appeared to be legs), with effortlessly coiffed black hair and a suit so sharp you could carve roast beef with one sleeve.

‘Good morning, Ms Duncan. Mr Amie will be with you shortly. In the meantime my name is Sondra and I’m able to provide you with coffee or tea while you wait?’

I wasn’t sure if this was a statement or a question. ‘Um…yes, tea would be good, thanks.’

Sondra smiled a professional smile, but I suspected her view
of me was far from complimentary. ‘Certainly, Ms Duncan. Take a seat, please.’

I took a good look around. Everything seemed to be white in this place—the floors, the reception desk, the flowers in the vase on the reception desk—even the modern artwork could have been titled
White with a Hint of Cream and Magnolia.
It occurred to me while I was waiting that I would be so scared to work somewhere like this. I know I would have to battle the urge to accidentally spill
very
colourful things everywhere. It was far too good a blank canvas to ignore.

A large white door opposite the white reception area swung open and Nate strolled happily out.

‘Hi, Rosie. Sorry to keep you waiting so long. I just had one hell of a phone call. Come in.’ He grabbed my hand and led me past efficiently smiling Sondra through the big white doors and into his office. I smiled as I looked around. He had personalised every wall with photographs—some framed, most not—friendly faces and exotic locations, autumn trees and snowcapped mountains. Above the window was a Yale pennant and a signed baseball had been granted pride of place on his large oak desk.

He saw my amusement and laughed. ‘Not quite in keeping with the corporate image, huh?’

‘No, no, it’s not. But it’s good. This whole place is
too white.
’

Nate flopped down into his comfortable-looking upholstered light oak chair. ‘I know! You see, that’s why I like you, Rosie. I
knew
you’d think that. You’re just like me.’

We exchanged satisfied smiles.

‘So—where’s your friend?’

‘He’s due here any minute.’ Nate checked his watch. ‘Actually, he’s late.’ He pressed a button on his phone and spoke into
the intercom. ‘Sondra, when my eleven o’clock arrives, would you show him straight in, please?’

‘Certainly, sir,’ came the reply, super-efficient and stylish even when disembodied.

‘So, you said it’s a big wedding?’

‘We’re talking gigantic, my friend. And he wants only you! He said to me, “I need Rosie Duncan’s flair—only her expertise will do. She’s obviously a real find.” A real find! His family have a fortune—we’re talking
serious
money here.’

‘And you think Kowalski’s could handle it?’ I asked, nerves beginning to flutter. I had only just got my head around the thought of Kowalski’s successfully managing the Grand Winter Ball commission: the thought of orchestrating a huge society wedding was too scary for words.

‘Absolutely.’ Nate stood up and walked to my side of the desk. Perching on the edge of it he reached out and took both my hands. His lop-sided grin spread across his face as his dark eyes zoomed in on me. ‘I believe in you. You can handle this, Rosie. You’re more than able to do it. Trust me.’

For a moment silence fell and the soft, warm hands retained mine. It was as if we were the only two people in New York.

And New York was smiling like Nate.

Abruptly, the moment ended as the large white doors opened smartly. Nate let my hands go as he looked up quickly, smiling broadly to welcome his friend. ‘About time, David! I said eleven, not eleven thirty. Rosie, let me introduce my tardy but very good friend—David Lithgow.’

I had already stood and started to turn when the name hit me like a boulder.

Everything went into slow motion as the world around me began to shatter. Sound and movement blurred into a swirling mass. Somewhere way in the back of my consciousness I was
aware of Nate’s continuing happy chatter as
that name
repeated over and over…
David Lithgow
…
David Lithgow
…I felt my security, my peace, my entire life dissolving as I found myself face to face with familiar grey eyes—eyes I never expected to see again. I felt sick. I needed to get out, to run away, but I couldn’t move. I heard Nate’s voice again as the room resumed its normal speed and I steadied myself by gripping the back of the chair.

‘Rosie—I said are you OK?’ Nate’s voice was full of concern.

‘I’m—fine, yes…’ I stuttered weakly.

‘It’s so good to see you again, Rosie.’ David spoke gently, but every word bruised me.

‘Hello, David.’ My calm reply belied the torrent of emotion shaking me to the core.

‘You two know each other?’ Nate asked, surprised.

‘Yes,’ David and I said together, his eyes still invading mine.

A smile lit Nate’s features. ‘Well, how about that! So, let’s sit and I’ll have Sondra bring us some refreshment. Then we can discuss how much you’re willing to pay for my friend’s excellent services.’ He winked at me and walked to the door, disappearing briefly outside. I sank back into my chair, eyes defiantly focused on the skyline beyond David.

He took a step towards me. ‘Rosie—I—’

I froze.

‘OK!’ Nate reappeared and sat at his desk. ‘So, David, tell me, how do you know Rosie?’

David’s eyes didn’t leave me. ‘We go back a long way. We worked together in London for a while. It really is great to find her again—after all these years.’

I caught Nate’s eyes and tried to smile. He saw through it and the corners of his grin tightened. ‘Great…’ he said slowly, his eyes surveying me as questions darted across his face. Then he turned to David. ‘So, tell us about the wedding.’

David reluctantly sat down in a brown leather chair to one side of the desk. He took a breath. ‘OK, well…it will be in March next year at my parents’ place in the Hamptons. We’re expecting around four hundred guests and those are likely to include dignitaries, senators, maybe some A-listers—we’re not sure yet. Rachel and I want it to be a truly memorable occasion.’

I caught my breath as pain more vivid than I’d felt in a long time stabbed me inside.

Nate’s eyes shot to mine. I pretended to cough. The dark eyes narrowed. ‘Well, with Rosie Duncan there it’s bound to be memorable.’

I coughed again, harder, as I rose quickly. ‘I—I just need some water…if you’ll excuse me…’

‘Sondra can bring some in…I’ll call her.’ Nate offered, but I was already halfway to the door.

I tripped over my words as I fled the room. ‘The designs…my—uh—design book is right there…feel free to look…Please excuse me…’

Out in the stark whiteness of the reception I paused to snatch some air. Sondra stood up. ‘Ms Duncan? Are you well?’

‘I’m fine…I need some water…please.’

Sondra’s expression flickered and just a little compassion broke free, softening her tone. ‘The restroom is just across the hall. You’ll find water there. If you need me just call. I’ll be right here, OK?’

I managed a smile. ‘Thank you.’

In contrast to the clinical blank canvas of the offices, the restroom was filled with warm colour, soft music and comforting scent. I filled a glass with water and slowly sat down on a padded velvet couch. My whole body was shaking. Desperately, I struggled to order my rioting thoughts.
I must
get away from here…NOW…it’s time to leave,
said one.
Don’t be ridiculous, this is my home now…I shouldn’t have to leave,
scolded another.
I never thought I’d have to see him again
…yet another thought pondered.
Yes, but you never thought he’d want to find you,
my conscience replied,
and now he’s here, so what are you going to do?

My face was hot so I went to the sink and ran my hands under cold water, patting my cheeks to cool them down. As I did so, I caught sight of myself in the elaborately framed mirror over the washbasin. My own dark eyes were full of the same fear I’d seen in Boston, just before I came to New York.

I frowned at my reflection. This was where I belonged—where I was happier than I’d ever been before—was I
really
ready to throw it all away, just because David Lithgow had reappeared in my life?

As I stood there, a change began. I don’t know what happened exactly, but I felt a strong surge of anger rush through me. While a large part of me was still reeling from the shock of seeing David again, I began to take hold of my emotions. Now was not the time to run.

I grabbed a hand towel and dried my face, smoothed down my hair and straightened my jacket. With a sense of purpose that surprised me, I smiled at my reflection. This time, I wasn’t going anywhere except straight back into Nate’s office.

I opened the restroom door and walked quickly across the lobby past Sondra.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

I nodded. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’

This is where I belong,
I told myself.
Nobody is taking that away from me.
As I reached the door to the office, I knew exactly what I had to do. I was going to take the commission. Nate and David stood up to meet me.

‘Thanks for waiting for me. So, do you see anything suitable?’

David offered my design book back to me. ‘They’re excellent, Rosie,’ he replied, with a warmth that sent icicles up my spine. ‘You have such a gift for design.’

I reached out to receive it. ‘Thank you.’ David’s hold on the book remained for a second longer than it should have done, pulling my hand a little towards him. With white-hot indignation rising inside I gave a sharp tug and he let go. I wrenched my eyes from his stare.

‘David was saying you worked for an advertising agency in London?’ Nate smiled, intently studying my response.

‘Yes, before I decided to fulfil my mother’s prophecy about me and start to design with flowers.’ I smiled as naturally as I could manage.

‘How is Rosemary?’ David interrupted.

My smile faded instantly. ‘She’s well.’ Tangible tension sparked round the room.

‘So, David, do you want Rosie to design for your big day then?’ Nate asked. ‘Bearing in mind of course she’s
very
soughtafter in this town now, and therefore very expensive.’

David smiled. ‘But worth every cent, I’m certain. I would love her to.
If
she’ll take the commission, that is.’

Inside me, a battle was raging. The indignation remained, fuelling my resolve to accept the job, yet the shattered, fearful part of me screamed out in protest:
I never want to see you again!
I fought the urge to say no, even though it seemed to be winning the war of wills within me. I looked over at Nate and something in his expression filled me with a strange trust. Taking a deep breath, I agreed.

David’s surprise was impossible to conceal. ‘Rosie, I don’t know what to say.
Thank you.
Thank you so much.’ He leaned towards me and my stomach somersaulted.

‘I—I really should be getting back to the shop.’ I stood awkwardly, as Nate and David did the same. ‘I’ll see you on Thursday, Nate?’

‘Definitely.’
Nate smiled as he accompanied me to the door. Ordeal nearly over, I started to feel stronger as I stepped out of the office. Then David called to me.

‘Rosie, can I call you? About the wedding? Soon?’

I felt the nausea launch a new, devastating assault on me. Scared that I was losing control, I quickly replied ‘Yes, David. Call me at the shop. Nate has my card.’

Nate’s arm slipped carefully round my shoulders as we neared the elevator that would grant me my freedom at last.

‘Rosie, are you sure you’re OK?’

His touch sent waves of relief washing over me. I stopped and, for just a moment, allowed myself to lean into the halfembrace. ‘I’m good, Nate, really. It was just a shock to see him—after so long…I’m fine, honestly.’

Despite my reassurance, tears were threatening to reveal the truth in my eyes. And added to my tangle of emotions was a new battle: my need to leave now faced a challenge from an unfamiliar desire to remain with this reassuring dark gaze and soothing touch. As though sensing my struggle, Nate’s arm turned me slowly to face him and I found myself pulled close to his scented body. His right arm enfolded me closer yet: I could feel the pulse in his neck as it gently padded against my cheek. I closed my eyes and inhaled the fragrance of his skin. He spoke: his voice deep velvet, resonating through my body.

‘Rosie, what is it? Did I do the wrong thing? Have I hurt you?’ His questions came in short bursts, sending a hot breeze across my hair. I reached my hand to press against his back and the muscles were firm beneath my fingers. I was in danger
of losing myself in the maelstrom of conflicting senses. It was time to leave.

‘No, Nate, you’ve done nothing wrong…it’s OK.’ I pulled away. ‘But I really do have to go. I’ll see you Thursday.’

Nate stood, motionless, his eyes fixed on me as the elevator doors shut him from my view. Finally alone, I slumped to the floor and sobbed as the lift began its descent.

‘Sooner or later the thing you fear most will come to find you.’

When Mr Kowalski said that to me one day, not long after I’d joined him at the store, I admit I disagreed strenuously. You can
always
escape your fears, I argued, especially your worst ones. It’s just a kind of game, surely? The more you understand when and where your fear will be hiding, the better you are able to choose a different route.