by Melissa Hill
But while she would be happy to see Bailey reunited with his owner, she was really sorry to see him go, though not nearly as sorry as Grace, who’d showered the big dog with beef jerky sticks and kisses almost all the way down the stairs on their way out this morning.
‘Do you think he could come back and visit sometime?’ her neighbour had pleaded as Darcy affixed him to the lead, the big dog licking her hand as she caressed his head, reluctant to let him go.
‘I’m sure Aidan will want to thank you for taking care of him,’ Darcy reassured her, although she herself had no idea what was going to happen next; if any of them would see either Bailey or indeed his owner again after today.
Aidan had wanted to arrange a car to collect them both from her apartment but Darcy had refused, preferring to take her time and enjoy one last walk with Bailey on this bright clear Manhattan morning. As such, the journey to work would take a good hour longer than usual but she decided it was well worth it.
The weather was brisk, and having chosen to take the more scenic path, she stopped en route at Bryant Park for breakfast – a bagel and orange juice for her, and a hot dog and bottled water for Bailey.
Darcy sat on one of the chairs beside the Park’s ice rink – still empty at this early hour – and watched the artisan vendors of the holiday shops ready their prettily decorated huts with souvenirs, crafts and artwork for the day. Bailey lapped water from the bottle as she held it out for him and scarfed the hot dog – even the bun – down in seconds flat.
He licked his lips, full of energy now and circling her feet as they continued onwards, the city coming alive with the early rush, and the threat of fresh snow as the morning stretched on.
Bailey had gradually been getting more and more skittish and excited as they skirted Columbus Circle and wandered along familiar territory, and by the way he was pulling against the leash Darcy knew he was looking forward to being reunited with his owner after the last few days’ separation.
Either that, or being reunited with his Dean & DeLuca dog food!
Though the hospital had reluctantly agreed to let Aidan discharge himself, Dr Mandeville was insisting on a final check-up that morning before he left her care, which meant that Bailey would be home before his master, given that Darcy needed to drop him off early to make it in time for work.
But Aidan shouldn’t be too much later, and if anything it would be a nice opportunity for man and dog to get reacquainted on familiar territory. She just hoped that something would click for Aidan once he was back in his own environment, surrounded by his own things, and a space in which he felt comfortable.
Aidan had promised to call her to confirm that he’d safely retrieved the key (she hoped he’d remember that they’d agreed to hide it in the soil of the potted maple) and was settled – and after that, well – Darcy wasn’t entirely sure what would happen.
Based on what she’d learned at the ballet school last night, she was going to try and track down Melanie Rothschild and explain what had happened. Given that there was a genuine reason behind whatever mix-up had occurred on the day of the accident, Darcy hoped that this, combined with the revelation that Aidan had been on his way to deliver a special gift to her, should mollify the woman.
But even if Aidan’s memory remained problematic in the meantime, it wouldn’t be long before all the people who’d been trying to get in touch and were worried about his safety would eventually make contact, and no doubt everything else would fall into place after that.
She felt saddened by this, and it wasn’t all down to her admission to Grace the other night. It was more the fact that her quest to figure out Aidan’s story would be over.
And Darcy could never abandon any tale until she knew the ending.
Chapter 35
There is no friend as loyal as a book. Ernest Hemingway
Later at Chaucer’s, Darcy updated Joshua and Ashley on her recent adventures.
‘You’ll be glad to know that you won’t need to worry about sharing your workspace with any wolves from now on,’ she teased Joshua.
He listened, eyebrows raised, while Ashley unpacked boxes nearby. ‘What was that you said about talking to somebody called Cleaver-Parks?’ he asked, looking thoughtful. ‘I recognise that name from somewhere.’
Darcy looked at him. Where on earth would her flamboyant man-about-town, book-geek colleague have come across a decidedly older, crotchety gent like the one Darcy had recently spoken to?
At this Ashley perked up too. ‘Senior or Junior?’ she asked.
Both Joshua and Darcy turned in unison towards the younger girl. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Nate Cleaver-Parks – which one were you trying to get in touch with?’ she asked simply. ‘There’s a Senior and a Junior.’
Then it clicked. Father and son. ‘So that explains it!’ Darcy exclaimed. ‘I’m guessing that the guy I talked to was Senior and maybe the one who actually phoned Aidan was Junior?’
Ashley nodded. ‘Yes, Nate Junior is my age or so.’
Darcy blinked, surprised. ‘Sounds like you might actually know this guy then? Nate Junior, that is.’
The younger girl shrugged. ‘Of course I do. I’ve known him since I was a kid. Our families are good friends.’
‘Wow.’ Darcy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘Well, he obviously knows Aidan too, so if I could speak to him then maybe I can let him know what’s happened and maybe he might even know Melanie,’ she said, her anticipation running away with her.
Ashley waved a hand and smiled. ‘Sure, I can give him a quick call now. Like I said, I’ve known him forever, it’s no big deal.’ She stood up straight, brushed book dust off her jeans and headed towards the cash desk, taking out an up-to-the-minute designer handbag from underneath.
‘I honestly don’t know why you’re even paid to work here, considering you carry around a bag like that,’ Joshua commented balefully. ‘If anything, this place should be asking you for financing.’
Ashley grinned. ‘Oh come on. It was a gift. You know I’m just a starving college grad.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Daddy’s girl.’
Ignoring their banter, Darcy waited for Ashley to place the call, berating herself for giving up so easily the other day. But how could she possibly have guessed there would be two Nate Cleaver-Parks?
Ashley hit some buttons on her phone and a moment later she cooed, ‘Nate, sweetie, I haven’t spoken to you in forever . . .’
Darcy watched her intently, hoping they’d get through the preliminary chitchat soon so Ashley could get to the point of the call. The girl made eye-contact with Darcy and winked.
‘Anyway Nate, yes, I am totally up for some fun on New Year’s Eve. I heard something about a bash that Kanye is promoting downtown? I’m sure we could get in.’ She laughed and Joshua tutted, mouthing the words ‘unbelievable’ with an incredulous glance at Ashley. She ignored him. ‘So anyway, there is a purpose to my call . . .’
The young woman paused, listening to whatever Nate had to say. Darcy made circular motions with both of her hands, urging her to speed things up as the suspense was killing her. Luckily for Darcy’s heart-rate, Ashley duly moved the conversation on. ‘I’m here with a friend of mine, my boss at the bookstore. She’s trying to find this guy, it’s actually a really crazy story, but we’re pretty sure you know him—’ Ashley stopped talking abruptly, obviously cut off. She let out a giggle. ‘No, I’m pretty sure you aren’t dating this guy. In fact, I think that he is straight, at least my friend thinks so.’
Darcy gulped, a bit taken aback, but it was certainly an angle she’d never even thought to consider.
‘Anyway. So like I said, you must know him or have talked to him or something. You left a message on his answering machine earlier this week. His name is Aidan Harris?’
Ashley went quiet as she listened intently to whatever Nate was saying.
Darcy paced the floor, dying to know what they were talking about or what was developing.
&
nbsp; Soon Ashley continued her end of the conversation. ‘Well, that’s interesting,’ she said, ‘and it does fit in with a lot of what my friend has been thinking. She’s been running all over the city trying to track down someone who knows him.’ She paused. ‘No, no, I get that. But maybe what you know can help Darcy?’ Another pause. ‘Yes, that’s my friend. The one who knows Aidan. Well, sort of. It’s kind of a weird story.’ Ashley listened again. ‘Well, he couldn’t have got your message because he is actually in the hospital right now.’ She nodded. ‘Sorry, yes, of course you didn’t know that.’ More listening, and Darcy felt like wrenching the phone away from her. ‘OK. Yes, she’s right here.’
Ashley held the phone out to Darcy.
‘Here you go,’ she said. ‘Nate wants to talk to you.’
Chapter 36
‘Aidan Harris? Stephanie Everly here. I understand that you have been trying to get in touch with me,’ a woman said in clipped tones on the other end of the line. Before I could continue, she went on: ‘I heard from Nate Cleaver-Parks that you are interested in Miller’s collection.’
‘Yes,’ I said, wanting to punch the air. Instead I crossed my fingers. ‘I am. And I would seriously be thrilled if he might consider brokering a deal with me, say today?’
I bit my lip, trying not to sound so desperate. I really would be slaughtered in Atlantic City.
‘I see. Well, I can’t arrange anything that quickly without consulting him first, and he’s travelling in Europe at the moment, but we will be back in contact later today. However, I can confirm that like most collectors, Miller is always willing to entertain any interest in his portfolio, particularly at the right price.’
She left the obvious implication hanging and I closed my eyes, not sure whether to be relieved or frightened.
So it could happen – but only if the price was right.
‘In the meantime, would you like to come out to the house and inspect the collection – see if the edition in question meets your requirements? I’m aware of your tight timeline.’
‘What – now? Today?’ I asked, in some disbelief.
‘Yes, now,’ Stephanie said simply. She recited an address in Westchester County, a good forty-minute taxi ride from Manhattan. ‘I’ll meet you there.’
I hung up the phone, unable to believe my luck. Two days to D-day and finally I had a lead. A good one.
I took off at a pace, practically dragging Bailey along beside me. He was looking at me as if I had lost my mind. I briefly considered going back to the house and dropping him off, but I was all the way downtown and there was precious little time to waste.
Finally I found a cab that would take us to Westchester County and allow a dog like Bailey in the car. When I say ‘a dog like Bailey’ I’m referring to his size and the fact that he is obviously not of the tea-cup variety that Paris Hilton made famous.
Of course, the reason the driver accepted us was obvious as soon as we sat inside. The cab smelled like a mixture of falafel, sweaty gym socks, curry and quite possibly ferret, and appeared as if it had not received a good cleaning in about a year and a half.
Nonetheless, beggars, choosers and all that . . .
We reached the address that Stephanie Everly had given me in just under thirty-five minutes; it was a sprawling country estate upon which sat a steep-roofed three-storey stone Beaux Arts mansion with a view of the city skyline twenty-five miles to the south.
It immediately brought to mind the Pemberley Estate in Pride and Prejudice. I paid the driver and helped Bailey out of the car. Damn, I thought, looking from the Husky to the house and back again. Definitely not a good combination. But maybe they were dog-lovers here? Estates like this usually had a couple of resident dogs ambling around somewhere.
Holding tight to Bailey’s lead, I walked up the stone steps towards the front entrance, whereupon one of a pair of heavy wooden doors opened and there, waiting for us was a woman I assumed to be Stephanie Everly.
She wore a black pant suit that looked specifically tailored for her petite size two frame, and her shocking red hair was pulled expertly back into an elegant knot at the nape of her neck.
‘Aidan Harris?’ she asked.
‘That’s me.’
Stephanie’s gaze flickered to Bailey and she looked as if she was calculating the approximate amount of dog hair that would be left behind in the house after his departure.
Uh-oh.
‘And this is Bailey,’ I offered lamely. ‘Sorry, I came here immediately after your call and didn’t have time to—’
‘Great name.’ Much to my surprise, she gave a broad smile. ‘I grew up with Huskies. They are dreadful shedders though.’
‘Should I ask him not to do that while he’s here?’ I joked.
Stephanie gave a small laugh. ‘Between you and me, I’m a total dog person,’ she said, ‘but the lady of the house is not. Do you think he could possibly wait here in the foyer?’ Before I could say anything, she offered further explanation. ‘It’s not that she doesn’t like dogs. She is just allergic. Terribly so. I apologise.’
I held up a hand. ‘No worries, I’m not offended, I completely understand and I don’t plan on taking up too much of your time in any case. Bailey can certainly hang back, can’t you, boy?’ I asked my four-legged friend, who looked up at me and seeming to acquiesce, promptly took a seat on his haunches.
‘Smart,’ said Stephanie with raised eyebrows. ‘Well-trained too.’
‘Smarter than me most days,’ I said, giving him a last pat on the head.
I followed Stephanie deeper into the bowels of the luxurious home, taking in the décor. While I was used to nice surroundings, this place put the townhouse to shame.
Though many of the people I mixed with in New York these days had come into money, I could tell that the people who lived in this place had been born with it and had certifiable blue blood coursing through their veins.
As I walked, my heels clicked on the marble floors, echoing off the walls around me. My eyes met with antique after antique. Sterling-silver frames littered tables and could be seen within the built-in bookcases. I was able to catch a quick look at some of the pictures, and it appeared that Stephanie’s employers were definitely well-travelled, and also knew some very important people. The proof was displayed everywhere.
However, as she guided me through a sitting room, past a formal dining room containing a table which could easily fit thirty people, and onwards into a formal library that had floor-to-ceiling mahogany shelves and countless displays with what had to be rare manuscripts held under glass, I discovered something else.
This entire place was like a museum. It was a house, but not a home.
I thought back to the brownstone and recognised a couple of startling similarities between the two – and then I thought back to my family home in Dublin, my old house, and even some of the apartments that I had lived in over the years. Those were homes. Those were all places where you could hang your hat, put your feet up and let your dog roam around without worrying about making a mess.
Stephanie looked at me evenly. ‘Just to say that when it comes to such dealings it’s usually the prospective buyer who throws out a number initially. Especially when they reach out to us first, and we haven’t advertised our intent to sell through the auction houses or some other resource.’
Ah, so that’s how this was going to go. They wanted to see just how serious I was by what I was willing to offer right off the bat.
No matter.
I nodded. ‘Understood.’
‘Nate didn’t tell me why your timeline was so tight but I can only assume delivery needs to be imminent.’ She looked sideways at me. ‘I’m aware of your company. Thrill Seeker Holdings has an interesting reputation.’
Ah, so she was going to take this route. Call me out on the fact that she knew my needs were urgent and that the company had the tendency to splash the cash.
‘I must also admit that I’m a fan,’ she added with a quiet smile, and I
glanced at her, surprised and proud of how far and wide the franchise had reached.
‘Delighted to hear it, thank you.’ I nodded. ‘But, you are right. I do need this wrapped up soon for various reasons – today, if possible.’
Stephanie considered what I had said.
‘I see. Well, I will convey any offer you might have to Miller when I speak to him later. May I assume that there will be a first bid today and you are open to negotiation?’
I wasn’t going to say more and overplay my hand.
‘I think it might be good to take a look before we get into specifics, don’t you?’
‘Absolutely,’ she said, leading me down some steps into a completely different part of the building. ‘But rest assured, Miller has extremely high standards and everything in his collection is in impeccable condition. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ I took a small breath and thought about the leeway I had with the numbers. I knew what something like this should be worth on the open market, but this was a completely different market altogether.
Doing the elementary math, I kept my face impassive, realising that these days I seemed to no longer have any real appreciation for money, which if I wasn’t careful could prove dangerous.
Opening another door, Stephanie led me into a huge open space, almost hangar-like in its appearance. ‘Here we are. I moved it up to the front for you to take a better look.’ She smiled. ‘I assume this is what you are looking for?’
Following her gaze, I took in the rows upon rows neatly lined up together, and then let out a low whistle as I finally laid eyes on my prize.
And it was perfect.
