Miranda Dickinson 2 Book Bundle. Miranda Dickinson
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traumatic experience for Celia or just an annoyance. She rarely even mentioned his name and I knew she had been on more than one date recently. Even now, as I faced her across the table, I couldn’t detect any kind of emotion in her measured expression. Except, perhaps, resignation.
‘So how did he seem? What did he say?’ I asked.
Celia shrugged again and looked over my shoulder. ‘That he’s sorry. That he’s in Palm Springs and the golf is good. That he wants me to forgive him.’
‘But he’s not coming home?’ I asked, trying to judge her countenance, which flickered slightly.
She nodded.
‘Oh, Celia…’
She held up a hand and looked me square in the eyes. ‘It’s fine, Rosie. Honestly, I’m fine. He can go—no, he’s welcome to go. I’m amazed we lasted as long as we did. We never married—what can I say? Such is life. There isn’t anyone else, though. And I don’t think I’d care if there was. Besides,’ she added, her wry smile making a welcome comeback, ‘I hear toy boys are all the rage for women over forty now. So maybe I’ll get me one of those. Maybe I’ll give Nate Amie a call…’ her eyes twinkled naughtily, ‘…unless you have any objections, that is?’
It was obvious that the Jerry topic was now closed, so I played along, glaring at her. ‘I don’t object at all. But Caitlin Sutton might have something to say about it.’
‘Aha!’ Celia’s face was a picture of triumph. I had obviously fallen for her bait. ‘Not if what I heard today is anything like the truth.’
I leaned forward, curious to hear more. ‘So, tell me, then. What did you hear?’
Celia looked shocked. ‘Rosie Duncan, I do believe you are enquiring about a man!’
I protested. ‘Only out of sheer curiosity and the need for a bit of juicy gossip.’
‘Like I believe that…Well, I was talking to Brent Jacobs this morning, and he told me—ooh, and make sure you don’t forget he’s—’
‘Coming to my shop tomorrow morning, yes, I know. What about Nate?’
‘Patience, Rosie! I’m coming to that,’ Celia stated, delighting in my suspense. ‘He told me he was at a theatre premiere at the Lincoln Center yesterday and he saw Mimi, Nate and Caitlin. Right in the middle of the performance, Caitlin stormed out. And Nate didn’t follow her. Then Mimi received a call at the after-show party and had a blazing row with Nate, in front of everyone. He called his driver and left, and Mimi was heard to say that he had not heard the last from her on the subject. She was in such a foul mood that she totally ruined the party and most people left as soon as she did.’
I was still interested. ‘And…?’
Celia sat back. ‘That was it.’
Disappointment is always a difficult thing to hide. ‘Oh…What was Brent’s take on things?’
Celia took a sip of Pinot Gris. ‘He was as much in the dark as everyone else. But his theory is that Caitlin and Mimi have been pressing for marriage and Nate won’t play ball.’
‘So, does this mean he won’t be ordering those large and frequent bouquets from me, after all, then?’ I moaned with a smile.
‘Well, Brent reckons he’ll—’ she was interrupted by the waiter, who informed her she had a phone call. ‘Excuse me one second, Rosie. I’ll be right back.’
I refilled my glass and sat back in my chair to look out at the driving rain and wildly swinging fairy lights. Why I found this information interesting, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint. After all, I didn’t really know Nate Amie. Only that he had a laugh that could fill an atrium and knew nothing about lavender. Yet somehow I found myself intrigued that his name had cropped up in conversation so often this past week.
Celia returned about five minutes later, shaking her head. ‘Can you believe that?’ she asked. ‘I leave them alone for five minutes and all hell breaks out.’ She saw my mystified face and took a breath. ‘Sorry, honey. I’ve got my sister’s twins over for a few days. Didn’t I tell you? Well, I have. They’re on vacation from Washington State and wanted to see New York. It appears they decided to throw a party while I was out and have played music so loud that my good neighbours called 911. I need to go sort it out. I’m sorry, sweetie. Call you tomorrow?’ She grabbed her bag, kissed me and hurried away to her engagement with New York’s finest.
The waiter approached. ‘Will madam be ordering dessert?’ he asked.
‘No, no, thank you. I’ll settle up, if I may.’
‘Sure. No problem.’ He disappeared again. I finished my wine and took a last look out at the windswept Hudson. For the briefest of seconds, my mind flashed up an image of a lopsided grin and a soft, low voice. Surprised, I checked myself and rose to leave.
As I stepped outside into the icy rain, I wrapped my coat tightly round my body and began the short walk home. The wind whipped at my hair and New York seemed to be asking me the same questions that already filled my mind, despite my desire to avoid the subject.
It was an unusual relief to click the key into the front door of my block and jog the three flights up to my apartment. Once inside, I closed the door and leaned against the frame, breathing in the familiar scent and willing my heart to slow down. I was removing my coat when the intercom beeped. I jumped.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, sis. Aren’t you going to let your big bruv in?’ chirped a familiar voice.
‘James!’ I squealed. ‘Come on up!’
I pressed the door release button and within a minute my brother walked in. It’s funny that I’m always shocked at how tall he is whenever I see him. He looked tired, but thrilled that he had surprised me by arriving with no warning. He dropped his heavy leather bag on the floor, scooped me up and spun me round.
‘Rosie! It’s so great to see you,’ he yelled. ‘Are you surprised?’
‘Too right I’m surprised!’ He plonked me down and I hugged him again. ‘I can’t believe you’re here! Mum said you’d be too busy to visit.’
James grinned, nut-brown eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘I swore Mum to secrecy. I wanted to surprise you. Can I stay?’
‘Sure, no problem. I’ll have to make up the couch for you. Is that OK?’
‘Perfect,’ James said, dropping into the nearest chair. ‘I’m so tired I’ll sleep anywhere. I’m not proud, y’know.’
‘Good job my couch is an incredibly comfy sofa bed, then,’ I replied, going into the kitchen to put the kettle on. ‘Tea?’
‘How about Yorkshire Tea?’ James asked, appearing by my side and brandishing a box. ‘I’ve got you some Marmite too. And Dairy Milk.’
I let out another squeal. I don’t miss many things from home, but these gifts are like the Holy Grail for me. ‘Thank you so much!’ I yelped, ripping open the tea box and dropping two bags into the pot. I poured the boiling water and savoured the long-missed aroma as the tea began to infuse. ‘Heaven,’ I breathed.
‘How long are you staying?’ I asked, once the tea was made and we had sunk down into the sofa with our mugs of steaming nectar.
James looked offended. ‘You want me to leave already?’ he laughed. ‘I’m kidding, Rosie. I can only stay till Saturday morning, I’m afraid. Then I need to be back at the DC office for four days, before I fly home again. Look, are you sure it’s OK to stay with you? I could book into the Four Seasons, if not.’
‘Why on earth would you want to stay at one of the best New York hotels when you can rough it here with me?’ I asked.
James smiled. ‘I’d much rather be with my darling