Two Days in Biarritz (47 page)

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Authors: Michelle Jackson

BOOK: Two Days in Biarritz
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Tom was always on time. He was so reliable there was no way Eve could stand him as a permanent fixture in her life. He was, like most men that she had dated and the one that she eventually married with such disastrous consequences, a solid dependable individual. She wondered if he was like that with his wife. Probably not if he could be there for her after one email. He always appeared fascinated by her and had told her he was attracted by the aloof way she carried herself. She enjoyed the way most men buzzed around her like bees when in her company – it made her feel like a honey pot.

She sprayed a little of her new perfume on her neck and loosened the belt of her luxurious black bathrobe. There was no need to beat around the bush with Tom – they would enjoy an hour of making love and perhaps order some food up to the room – then she could decide what to do for the rest of the night. She didn’t relish the prospect of sharing the evening with her old college friend but part of her was curious. She still had unfinished business to trash out with Rachel and
New York was probably as good a place to do it as anywhere.

The North Loft Suite of the Soho Grand was Eve’s favourite place to stay in
New York now that she was a visitor. She was far enough away from all of the tourist hotels uptown and lucky that Lucille allowed her to charge the expensive room to the company. She strolled over to the large glass doors that looked out on the towering landmark of Manhattan. Later in the evening the Empire State would be illuminated like a glittering prize in the midst of the other skyscrapers and she could sit and watch it for hours. The cubist furniture and modern lines of the suite made this the perfect setting to enjoy the Manhattan skyline. She opened the door and stepped out onto the patio which was furnished with deckchair-striped couches and chairs. Maybe she should treat herself and Tom to a bottle of Bollinger – she deserved it.

Suddenly an impatient knock sounded on the door of her suite. She slowly walked over to open it – there was no need to appear overenthusiastic. She turned the handle and it was slowly but forcefully pushed from the other side. She could smell his Boss aftershave before she saw his face. Then his dark hazel eyes appeared around the door and they fixed on hers. Eve didn’t want to talk – there was absolutely nothing she had to say to him. Instead she pursed her lips and drew him close enough to kiss. He smelt of work and the splattering of aftershave that he used to try and conceal the odours of the day. She didn’t care – she loved his scent.

They shuffled, using tiny steps, inside the hotel suite – Eve walking backwards while Tom slammed the door with his left hand.

“Eve, baby. It was great to get your mail. I’m so glad to see you!”

Compliments didn’t impress Eve. She had most of the people in her life departmentalised and her relationship with Tom was based purely on sex and she didn’t want to waste the short time that they had together whispering niceties in his ear. She slipped the robe off her shoulders, revealing her nakedness. Her body was in such good shape that most women in their twenties would be envious of it.

“Wow, you are amazing . . . I’ve missed you!” Tom panted as he brushed his lips along her collarbone and rounded the curve of her shoulder. He was moving slowly down to her breasts when he suddenly stopped and studied her left arm. “Eve, honey, what happened to you?”

Eve glanced down at the scar along her upper arm and rolled her eyes. “I had a fall in the subway last time I was here – it’s nothing – just a silly little scar.” She moved her hand over to snap the buttons open on Tom’s shirt.

“What happened? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t have enough time to see you – it was a quickie visit for our AGM.”

Tom seemed hurt. “I can’t believe you were in
New York and didn’t call me!”

Eve was getting impatient. “I said I was busy. Anyway if I wanted to be examined I’d have called a doctor.”

Tom took a step backwards. “Hey, honey, I’m just concerned – I haven’t seen you in months and now it’s like you don’t even want to talk!”

Eve snapped. “If I’d wanted to talk to you I would have phoned!”

Tom flinched at her sharp retort. It had been a crazy week in the world of fund-management and he didn’t need grief from a woman that he only saw a couple of times a year – even if she did drive him crazy with desire.

Eve rolled her eyes and picked up her bathrobe – slipping it on over her shoulders as she flopped down on the square grey couch.

She looked up at the dishevelled Tom as he fixed the buttons on his shirt.

“So, how’s the wife?”

“Jeez, Eve, is there any need for that?”

Eve pulled punches harder than most of the guys he’d had to deal with on
Broad Street in the past few days and it looked like she was in fighting form tonight.

“I’m merely asking a polite question as you came here for a chat – I thought you were here for sex!”

Tom sat down on the luxurious couch opposite Eve. His legs spread wide, he rested his palms on his thighs and shook his head. “I like you, Eve, I’m glad to see you – it’s been a while.”

Eve dragged her French-polished fingernails through her hair and sighed. “Yeah, well, it’s been a crazy day for me – I’ve had emails from long-lost friends and a new client who I can already tell is going to be trouble . . .”

Tom shrugged.

“Yeah, well,” she continued, “I just want to forget about it and chill out this evening . . . and I thought that you would help me.”

Eve smiled for the first time since Tom entered the suite. She would give him one more chance to turn this evening around and give her what she wanted.

He cleared his throat – holding a clenched fist up to his lips. “Eve . . .”

“Yes?”

Nothing could have prepared her for his revelation.

“Eve, Monica is pregnant.”

Eve felt an inexplicable dart in her chest. She didn’t give a damn about Tom’s wife and she certainly didn’t envy her but the fact that Tom had come to tell her the news brought a mixture of emotions up from the pit of her stomach.

“So, you’re going to be a father – how lovely for you.”

Tom wasn’t sure if it was sarcasm or genuine regard in her tone. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone ‘cause I haven’t seen you for ages.”

“I already told you – I didn’t have the chance to call you the last time I was over,” she replied sharply.

Tom rubbed his hands through his short hair. It was shades paler than it had been when Eve had first met him as more grey had crept through the black strands with time.

“I know I’m not a priority in your life, Eve, but I always regarded you as someone special in mine. But things have changed for me now . . . I can’t see you when we are expecting a baby.”

Eve threw her head back and laughed. “Why did you come here then?”

Tom drew a sharp breath. “I wanted to see you one last time.”

“You can be so mushy. Give yourself a break, Tom. I’m really not bothered.” She stood up and walked towards the door. “Actually, I’m meeting people later and I’d like to take a bath, so why don’t you go home to Monica?”

Tom stood up and nodded. He knew in his heart that Eve had never really cared for him but he needed to show her the respect that he felt their relationship deserved – elicit as it was.

“Goodbye, Eve.”

He leaned forward to give her a parting kiss on the cheek but she turned her head away.

“Goodbye, Tom,” she replied and, as he disappeared out the door, she shut it sharply and stood for half a minute with her back leaning heavily against it. 

She couldn’t stay here on her own tonight. Her mind was made up – she would ring Rachel and see where she was staying. If she was in New York shopping, chances were that she would be in the Fitzpatrick like the rest of Dublin that thronged Fifth Avenue from one end of the year to the other.

She rummaged around her handbag until she found the piece of paper that Lucille’s secretary had given her earlier. It was dog-eared but the mobile number was all that needed to be legible. She tapped the digits into the smooth chrome hotel phone and waited – unsure what she was going to say to her old friend. Fifteen years was a long time and all that she was certain of was that a lot had happened in both their lives.

 

 

 

 

 

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