Fairytale of New York (25 page)

‘Ooh, Rosie, I’ve just seen someone I need to talk to,’ Celia said, her attention focused in the direction of the staircase. ‘Will you be OK here?’

‘Absolutely. You go ahead.’

‘I won’t be long,’ she called over her shoulder before she was swallowed up in the crush of elegantly attired heavenly bodies.

I folded my arms and sipped the champagne as I looked around the vast space. One thing was plain to see: when Mimi Sutton threw a party it was
spectacular
in every sense. From the exquisite setting to the impossibly beautiful music coming from the chamber orchestra, everything about the Grand Winter Ball testified to the power and influence Mimi had in New York society. There was still no sign of Nate; part of me longed for his familiar smile to appear through the crowd, although I had no idea what I’d say to him after our conversation this afternoon. I looked down at my dress and caught myself wondering what he would think of me in it; instantly, I pushed the thought away. It had been a long time since a man’s opinion of my outfit was important to me and the last thing I needed was yet another hang-up to add to my already considerable self-consciousness in the sea of beautiful people thronged around me. I was just beginning to feel uncomfortably conspicuous standing by myself, when I felt a touch on my arm. I looked around to see a tall, flame-haired statuesque woman immaculately dressed in a midnight-blue vintage gown, her neck adorned with white-hot diamonds, which flashed and sparkled as she spoke.

‘Rosie Duncan?’

‘Yes—hello.’ I held out my hand but the woman didn’t take it.

‘It’s good to meet you finally,’ she said, her expression hard as polished marble. ‘Although you aren’t anything like I imagined.’

I wasn’t sure whether this was a compliment or not, but smiled anyway. ‘You’d be surprised how often I get told that.’

Humour was obviously lost on her, however, as she looked me up and down like a disapproving school ma’am. ‘I must confess I was curious about why you make such a significant impression on people.’

‘Really? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.’ I offered my hand politely again and this time she accepted, shaking my hand impassively with long, cold fingers. As she did, I caught sight of her impeccably manicured nails.

‘Caitlin Sutton,’ she smiled—although it was more of an upturned sneer than a friendly expression. ‘I believe you know Nate. My fiancé?’

I struggled to maintain my composure as the full weight of her disapproval fell on me. In her impressive presence I felt decidedly dowdy and awkward by comparison. ‘It’s good to finally meet you,’ I managed to say, feeling my face flushing red.

Caitlin smiled again, a cruel carbon-copy of her mother’s expression earlier that day. ‘I was concerned that you would be—how can I put this delicately?—more of a
challenge.
But now I see that my fears were unfounded,’ she said, her haughty tone instantly crushing my self-confidence. ‘I can’t tell you how much of a relief that is.’

‘Well, it’s always nice to buck someone’s expectations,’ I replied, feeling indignation rising within me. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to—’

‘I know what you’re doing,’ she blurted, her alabaster sheen lost for a moment. ‘I know you’re trying to turn Nathaniel against me.’

‘Now hang on a minute—’

‘It won’t work. It can’t work. I think you’ll find that I am someone accustomed to getting what I want.’

‘Of that I’m already convinced,’ I replied, resisting the urge to throw half a glass of champagne over her smug face, right there. ‘However, you’re wrong: I have no intention of turning anyone against anyone. I don’t even know you—and it’s blatantly obvious that you don’t know me if you think me capable of such behaviour.’

‘If that’s the case, Ms Duncan, then why does the very mention of your name cause so much hostility between Nate and me? You know full well what you’re doing: since he’s been talking to you, he’s been different.’

‘Then I suggest you talk to
him
about it, Ms Sutton, not me. Nate is a friend, that’s all, and I’m getting tired of having to justify myself to your family.’

Caitlin’s eyes flashed as she leaned closer to me.
‘Stay away
from my fiancé,’ she growled. ‘I won’t tolerate him being friends with you.’

‘Tell him that yourself,’ I snarled back.

‘Rosie! You would
not believe
who I was just talking to—’ Celia chirped, coming to an abrupt halt when she saw Caitlin. ‘Oh, forgive me, Caitlin, I almost didn’t recognise you—you look simply
divine
in that dress.’

‘Vintage Valentino,’ Caitlin replied loftily, a thin smile returning briefly to her lips. ‘Celia, you never told me you had such
adorable
friends.’

‘Isn’t she just?’ smiled Celia, clocking my expression straight away. ‘And so much in
demand
these days it would seem.’

Caitlin’s smile vanished. ‘Quite. Please excuse me.’ And with that, she was gone, the crowd parting before her like the Red Sea before the Israelites.

Celia blew out a whistle and patted my arm.
‘Gracious,
sweetie, are you OK?’

I took a large swig of champagne and willed my heart to slow down, tension still prickling across my shoulder blades. ‘I’m fine. That woman is something else.’

‘Like mother like daughter.’

‘Hmm.’

‘What did she say?’

‘Oh, nothing, really. She just accused me of plotting to steal Nate and causing trouble between the two of them.’

Celia snorted, shaking her head. ‘She should try telling it to her
therapist,
not you.’

‘Caitlin Sutton has a therapist?’

A wicked smile lit up my friend’s face. ‘Try
several
therapists. That young woman is a psychiatrist’s wet dream. What in the world Nathaniel sees in her is beyond me.’

‘Presumably what Caitlin and Mimi
tell
him to see,’ I smirked, allowing myself to relax a little. But I couldn’t shake off thoughts of the conversation I’d had with Nate that afternoon. While I never intended to cause friction between Caitlin and Nate, in all honesty I couldn’t claim to be a wholly innocent party when it came to harbouring feelings for him. Truth was, I liked Nate—more than I would care to admit. The more time we spent together, the more I found myself contemplating what life would be like with him. Our conversation was so easy, the chemistry between us was impossible to deny—and he was the first person since David to make me feel that intensely giddy excitement of attraction. But the fact remained that he was
with
Caitlin—and I couldn’t condone him breaking
her heart, even if it was harder than granite. If he chose to leave her—as he’d intimated earlier—it wouldn’t,
couldn’t
be on my account.

My train of thought was halted by a voice from the stage where the orchestra had now ceased playing. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome your host of tonight’s gala event: Ms Mimi Sutton!’

Loud applause echoed around the ballroom as Mimi appeared at the top of the grand staircase and descended regally, her dress a riot of crystal and sequins shimmering in the spotlights as she approached her guests. On the bottom step, she was handed a microphone and, laughing with affected embarrassment, held up her immaculately manicured hand for silence. The applause duly subsided.

‘Who does she think she is—the Queen of Sheba?’ Celia laughed in a low voice.

‘Thank you, thank you. Welcome to our fifteenth Grand Winter Ball, here at the obscenely opulent Illustrian, which, I’m sure you’ll all agree, is the very best setting for such a fabulous night. I’m thrilled to tell you that already we have raised over two million dollars for the New York hospital charities through invitations alone.’

Applause broke out across the room.

‘I’ve had the honour of hosting one of Manhattan’s premier events for all these years and yet none has given me as much pleasure as tonight’s celebrations,’ Mimi continued. ‘Because here, this very evening, I have an announcement to make that has thrilled me and, I know, will thrill you all too.’

‘Prepare yourself,’ I whispered to Celia. ‘You may need to write this down.’

‘I’m on it,’ Celia whispered back with a mischievous grin.

‘This Christmas the Sutton household will be welcoming a
new member—officially. My daughter, Caitlin, has accepted the hand of the very charming Nathaniel Amie of Gray & Connelle publishers.’

The guests applauded enthusiastically as a spotlight swung into the crowd to illuminate Nate and Caitlin, smiling and waving shyly to those around them.
They look incredibly relaxed for a couple with relationship problems,
a little voice ventured inside my head. I caught my breath and pushed the aggravating thought away.

‘And, as if that weren’t enough for this poor old heart of mine to bear, I now have pleasure in announcing that they have finally set a date! Caitlin and Nathaniel will become Mr and Mrs Amie on May the twenty-fourth next year!’

As the crowd demonstrated their joy and surprise at this news, camera flashes caught the happy couple’s identical expressions. I kept my eyes firmly fixed on Nate, who was laughing and smiling with his fiancée by his side. There was certainly no hint of panic in his face, as there had been hours before in the coffee shop; nothing but the unadulterated happiness of a man in love. Celia patted my back as if sensing my thoughts. Suddenly, the room was too hot; it was difficult to breathe. I had to get out of there as fast as possible. Turning to Celia, I made my bravest attempt at a smile.

‘Well, I think I’ve had enough excitement for one day. I’m going home.’

Celia’s eyes were full of concern as she smiled at me. ‘I completely understand, sweetie. You call me tomorrow, OK?’

Leaving her in the middle of the excited gaggle of guests, I pushed my way through the bodies until I reached the icy fresh air at the entrance. Descending the steps, the red carpet now dirty brown and damp from the rain-soaked feet that had tramped up it earlier, I emerged onto the sodden sidewalk and
held my arm out to hail a cab. Several yellow taxis, their back seats already full, passed me by and I pulled my silver wrap tighter around my shoulders to keep the bitter December night air at bay.

Several minutes later—with no cabs in sight—I decided to walk to the next corner, more in an attempt to stay warm than in the hope I’d find a taxi on a Saturday night. I was just walking from the bright lights of The Illustrian’s grand entrance, when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

‘Rosie! Wait up!’

I turned to see David sprinting down the red carpeted steps and heading towards me. At a loss for anything better to do, I stopped and waited for him to reach me.

‘No cabs, huh?’ he observed, breathless from the run.

‘No. Not the best time to try to find one, either.’

‘You look frozen to death. Here—take my coat.’

Suddenly vulnerable, I shook my head. ‘No, thanks.’

His laugh was more of a defence mechanism than amusement. ‘Be serious.’

‘I am serious. I’m fine. Taxi!’ The yellow cab ignored me and sped past.

‘Rosie, come on. I’m offering you my coat, not trying to attack you.’

I turned to him, willing my face to unfreeze and the goosebumps now covering my arms to disappear. ‘I’m
fine.
Thank you for your concern.’

David shook his head, his expression a mix of humour and frustration. ‘Hell, Rosie, you know how to beat a guy up, don’t you?’

I stared at him blankly and then looked defiantly back at the road. My hands were going numb and my feet had already succumbed to the sub-zero December night.

‘OK. Take that attitude if you want. But I won’t be responsible for standing by while a lady freezes to death on the sidewalk. So I’m doing this for your own good.’ Taking off his long, dark grey overcoat, he draped it firmly across my shoulders. By now, I was too cold to argue so I didn’t protest, thankful for the warmth it afforded me. And that’s when it happened: all the fire left me and I was suddenly struck by the absurdity of the whole situation. Maybe it was the cold, or maybe it was just that I’d done my fighting for tonight: whatever it was, I began to giggle uncontrollably, my breath turning into rapid puffs of steam rising into the freezing night sky. I turned to face David, wrapping his coat tighter round my shivering body and stamping my feet in a bid to coax the circulation back to my toes. His face was a picture. ‘OK, now you’re scaring me. Do you need a doctor?’

His concern only served to increase my mirth. ‘No—no, I’m quite in control, don’t worry. It’s just been a really long night, that’s all. Thank you—for the coat, I mean. It’s lovely and warm.’

‘Tough night then, huh?’

‘You could say that, yes.’

He stuffed his hands into his dinner jacket pockets and looked up the street. ‘So where are you headed?’

‘Um, I’m—I’m not sure. I just needed to leave the Mimi Sutton Experience in there.’

David’s smile was as warm and welcome as the coat I now wore. ‘Right with you on that one. I don’t know how Nate can bear her company, let alone consider her as a future mother-in-law.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I saw you talking to Caitlin Sutton.’

The memory made my shoulders tense. ‘Being
talked to
would be more accurate. I don’t think I’m top of the Sutton family Christmas card list this year.’

‘Because of Nate, right?’

That was a step too far and I felt the old defences building again. But I was enjoying David’s coat too much to start another argument, so I opted for diplomacy and changed the subject. ‘It’s just been a terrifically busy day for me, you know? I wasn’t really in the mood for a party after all the work we had to do today. I’d have been happier with a hot chocolate and an early night.’

David clapped his hands together. ‘Excellent idea.’

‘I hope you don’t mean the early night?’

‘No, you crazy woman! I meant the hot chocolate. Or coffee, anyway. There’s a diner just around the corner from here. How about we grab a drink and maybe something to eat—seeing as both of us elected to leave before the banquet this evening?’

I paused for a moment—after all, this was the man whose betrayal I’d been running from for the past six-and-a-half years. But then it suddenly occurred to me: he was no longer a threat. My biggest fear had been seeing him again. Now I had done that and survived more or less unscathed by the experience. After all, I’d agreed to work on his wedding. There’s only so long you can maintain a position of being wronged: the best way I could show my strength in the situation now was to move on—and be seen to be moving on. I couldn’t do anything about the situation with Nate—that had been made clear to me this evening—and, while I was still on my guard with David, I found that I felt stronger than I had in a long, long time. It gave me an immense thrill to feel myself finally ready to move forward.