by Melissa Hill
Chapter 37
Beware of false knowledge; it is more dangerous than ignorance. George Bernard Shaw
Walking brusquely with the cold wind in her face, Darcy went to meet Nate Cleaver-Parks. She’d wanted to arrange something after work or at least during her lunch-hour, but Joshua had been insistent. ‘Are you kidding me? Go – Ash and I will hold the fort. And I want to see how this thing works out as much as anyone.’ He’d even gone so far as to rustle up one of his famous ‘Joshua bucks’, agreeing to stay on and cover her for the later shift as he bustled her out of the door.
Darcy was just as eager to hear what the only person she’d come across so far who definitely knew Aidan had to say, so she made her way to the arranged meeting spot – Bomboloni, a popular Upper West Side eaterie and an apparent favourite of Nate’s. Darcy had heard of the little Italian bakery but had never sampled one of its famed bomboloni – miniature light pastry doughnuts filled with various fruit and crème flavourings.
Turning on Sixty-Ninth Street on to Columbus Avenue, she looked up and saw a sign for the place up ahead. There was plenty of outdoor seating, and despite the cold almost all of the tables were full, the overhead heat lamps helping the bakery’s customers brave the elements.
Nearing the entrance, Darcy began scanning faces beneath the red-striped awning. While she didn’t know what Nate looked like, he’d told her on the phone that he would be wearing a red velvet Prada jacket (though Darcy couldn’t tell Prada from JC Penney), was about six foot tall and had sandy-blond hair. She’d thought that was a pretty run-of-the-mill description, but when she clapped eyes on Nate Cleaver-Parks, she realised that he was anything but run-of-the-mill.
In fact, he was drop-dead gorgeous. Of the male model variety.
Sitting at a table closest to the building and (thankfully) right beneath a heat lamp, he was in his mid-twenties, had a finely chiselled jaw and bright blue eyes that caught your attention, broad muscular shoulders and the build of an athlete. She wondered if he played lacrosse for Harvard.
Nate seemed to know Darcy right off the bat; probably because she’d said she would be carrying a book. And as Nate stood up to greet her, every female in the vicinity turned to look, as if envious that he had his sights set on her.
If only they knew.
She smiled and walked forward to say hello.
‘Darcy? Darcy Archer?’ he enquired, indicating her copy of Pride and Prejudice. ‘Hardly surprising you’d be carrying that book, given your name,’ he added jokingly, and for this Darcy liked him immediately.
‘Lovely to meet you, Nate,’ she said, holding out a hand to shake his. ‘And thanks so much for taking the time to talk to me.’
‘Not a problem,’ Nate said pleasantly. ‘I was heading down this way anyhow, and seeing as you weren’t far . . .’ He held out a chair for her and Darcy sat down right beside the window that looked into the little bakery.
Tiny inside, it was decorated with pretty Sicilian tiling and handcrafted wooden honeycomb on the ceiling, but most important was the big glass display case filled with a selection of mouth-watering pastries.
‘Anything in particular you like?’ Nate said, following her gaze. ‘My favourite’s the Nutella and passion fruit – a strange combination but it somehow works.’
‘I’m not sure, I’ve never actually been here,’ she admitted.
‘Ah well then, we’ll have to find you a favourite. I’ll order a mixed half-dozen,’ he said. ‘Coffee too?’
‘Tea thanks,’ she replied. A half-dozen? While the doughnuts were small they still looked like they could pack a punch, but Darcy had to admit she was interested in trying out some of the delicious flavours Nate talked about: pistachio, tiramisu and blood orange to name but a few.
Ever the gentleman he went in to place the order, while Darcy waited outside, grateful for the warmth of the heat lamp.
‘OK, so tell me all about your friend Aidan Harris,’ he said, once they were both settled with the hot drinks and a box of fresh pastries in front of them. ‘Given that I barely know this guy, I’m intrigued as to why you or Ashley think I can help.’
‘You barely know him?’ Darcy was disappointed. She’d hoped that Nate was a good friend or at least a business acquaintance of Aidan’s.
‘Yes. Just helped him out with a favour recently, but that’s it.’
But it was this ‘favour’ that might just hold the key to everything, Darcy thought.
She bit into a delicious honey-flavoured bomboloni and began her story, filling Nate in on everything that had happened since she’d quite literally run into Aidan a few days before, and how the phone message Nate had left on his answering machine had led her to him today.
When she’d finished, he looked briefly past her and down the street as if considering something, and then returned his gaze to peer inquisitively at her.
‘OK, a couple of things aren’t adding up for me here.’
‘How so?’
‘I realise that you’ve since found this dancer Melanie, and that she was leaving messages on his phone too, but how do you know she’s his girlfriend?’
‘Well, I don’t know for sure,’ Darcy replied, ‘but it certainly points in that direction, doesn’t it? The first message on the answering machine, especially. She was clearly expecting Aidan on that day – a significant day for her or the two of them even, maybe an anniversary – and then when he failed to turn up . . .’
‘But why would she be so furious with him for not turning up? Surely if she is a love interest, then shouldn’t she be concerned rather than angry?’
Darcy sat back in her chair. ‘I suppose that depends on how significant the occasion was.’ But he was right; all those missed calls and the venom in Melanie’s words during the most recent call didn’t exactly suggest love’s young dream.
Especially coupled with her parting shot.
‘She did say something along the lines of how she didn’t know how Aidan could keep track or something. I’m not sure – I’d have to listen to the message again.’ Darcy knew she wasn’t likely to get an opportunity to do that though, not with Aidan now safely ensconced in his home and once again in control of his phone messages, if not his life.
Reminded of this, she noted the time and surreptitiously checked her phone to see if there were any missed calls from him. It was almost midday and she figured he’d be home by now. She hoped Bailey was OK. She was missing him already.
But there was nothing.
‘Well, if she thinks he can’t keep track then maybe he can’t,’ Nate said. ‘Granted I only spoke to him once or twice, but I must admit I didn’t think he seemed the type.’
‘Type?’
‘To have a string of women running after him.’
Darcy felt a bit nauseous at the thought. ‘Well, I guess it takes all kinds. So you think I might be wrong then about him being on his way to deliver the gift to Melanie?’
‘I really can’t say. I’m just pointing out that you can’t assume that she was the person he was on his way to meet. Heck, what’s to say he was going to meet anyone? Maybe the guy was just taking his dog out for a walk, have you considered that?’
‘But the package . . . it’s so beautifully wrapped, very considered, and with all the mention of D-day, it has to be a gift for . . .’Then Darcy remembered why she was here with Nate in the first place. ‘In your message to Aidan you said something like you hoped he got what he needed before the Big Day. Were you involved in that somehow? Arranging the gift, I mean?’
Nate looked dubiously at her. ‘Me? How so?’
‘Well then, why did you say it? And why were you phoning him in the first place?’
‘To follow up. He was looking to do some business, and I put him in touch with a contact who could help him but,’ he chuckled, ‘believe me, this was no little wrapped package. Unless . . .’ He took out his phone.
‘Unless what?’
‘I just want to check something with Stephanie; the contac
t I mentioned. See if Aidan did in fact get what he needed from her. Hold on.’
Thoroughly confused, Darcy stayed silent while Nate waited for the call to go through.
As he did so, she thought about what he’d said. Maybe he was right; maybe there was no big meeting, no special romantic occasion that Aidan was missing because he wasn’t the romantic type. A part of her desperately hoped Nate was right. A big part, she secretly admitted.
Perhaps he’d let Melanie down somehow but it might have nothing to do with the gift or a meeting, and there was no denying that she did seem uncommonly angry for someone who Darcy assumed was very important to Aidan.
Then there was the suggestion that Aidan was a womaniser, in which case the gift could have been meant for anyone.
And what did Nate mean when he’d said that his involvement in the whole thing was something very different?
‘I just got voicemail.’ Nate’s eyes narrowed. ‘Honestly, Sherlock Archer, I think there’s something off about your theory. We’re missing something – apart from the fact that you have a crush, of course,’ he added with a mischievous grin.
‘I don’t have a crush,’ she said defensively. ‘I barely know Aidan.’
‘Oh sweetheart, please,’ Nate replied. ‘Tell it to someone else. You would have to be blind not to notice.’
Darcy was silent, not trusting herself to speak, while Nate tapped his fingers rapidly on the table. ‘No, something is definitely not adding up here.’
‘You think?’ she chuckled, as she tried to cover her embarrassment. ‘There is so much not right about this situation, I don’t even know where to begin.’
Nate thought for a second. ‘You said you have a picture of the woman you think is Melanie?’ She confirmed that she did as Nate continued, ‘Well, the other thing that I find weird is that if Aidan travels in the circles that you say he does, I feel like I would have heard of him long before all of this. And frankly, I haven’t. On the phone, I certainly got the impression that he was new money – but not big-shot arrogant like the way these guys can be sometimes. Can I see the picture of this alleged love interest?’
Darcy reached inside her bag. ‘So it is a rule that all rich people in New York have to know each other then,’ she said, extracting the picture and sliding it across the table. ‘I mean, it is a big city.’
Nate took the picture and peered at it. ‘No, it’s not a rule per se, it’s just how things are. I’m not trying to sound like a snob, but it’s just a fact. You see the same people at parties and events. Dullsville. It is what it is. People with money know other people with money.’
Darcy pointed at the picture. ‘So? Do you know her?’
Nate concentrated. ‘She looks familiar, but she also has to be older than me by at least eight or ten years, and that’s depending on what kind of work she’s had done. Unfortunately, I’m not the right person to ask about this. I might know some of the players, but I’m not into the cocktail-party scene just yet. Did you show this to Tabitha Kensington when you met her?’
‘No, I didn’t know if it was important at the time, and anyway Aidan had it at the hospital. Why, do you think she might be a friend of Tabitha’s?’ Now that would make some sense. But if Tabitha and Melanie knew each other, then why wouldn’t she have recognised Aidan’s name that time at Elizabeth Arden? It was all very confusing, but interesting that Nate had mentioned Tabitha Kensington all the same. Clearly she tied into this thing somehow.
‘All right. That settles it.’ He grabbed his velvet jacket and extracted his wallet from a pocket. Throwing a couple of twenties on the table, he put his coat on and motioned her to follow him. ‘I’ve left her a message. Come on. We’re done here. We can kill two birds with one stone. Stephanie is sure to be able to fill in the missing pieces.’
Chapter 38
When all the details fit in perfectly, something is probably wrong with the story. Charles Baxter
Nate led Darcy through the gilded doors of a stunning Park Avenue apartment building. Feeling intimidated by the opulence of the lobby, she hung back momentarily, but her companion continued on with the air of someone who felt completely at home in such an environment.
Still confused as to where they were going, she followed Nate to where he stood at the concierge desk. The man on the other side of the podium seemed to recognise Nate and allowed his eyes to flicker over Darcy.
‘We’re here to see Stephanie Everly in the penthouse,’ said Nate.
The concierge picked up the phone, confirmed something and then nodded in their direction. ‘Ms Everly has said you should go straight up. Take this elevator for the penthouse.’
Darcy gulped nervously, wondering what to expect. Moments later they were whisked up from the lobby to the top floor, where the elevator doors opened immediately into a large reception area. A woman stood, waiting to greet them.
Nate quickly made the introductions. ‘Darcy meet Steph. Steph, Darcy.’
‘Nice to meet you,’ said the beautifully dressed and perfectly made-up woman. She then turned to Nate. ‘I must admit, I was rather bewildered by your message.’
Nate put a casual arm around Stephanie’s shoulder. ‘Steph, like I said, Darcy here has had a mixed-up couple of days, to say the least. Can we go inside? Then we can tell you the whole story.’
Stephanie agreed and led the way into a nearby living room. When all were seated comfortably, she looked in expectation at Darcy and Nate.
Darcy sighed forlornly at the realisation that she would have to tell the entire story of how she had come to know Aidan once again, but hopeful that she was close to finding some answers, she went ahead. When she finished speaking, Stephanie was nodding thoughtfully.
‘Oh dear, I’m very sorry to hear about Aidan’s amnesia. He seemed like a nice man,’ she said.
Darcy sat forward, pleased that Stephanie had revealed that she’d actually met Aidan and also that her opinion of him concurred with her own. ‘Yes, he is.’
‘I’m not entirely sure how I can help you, though,’ Steph went on. ‘I only met him once last week when he came out to Westchester – where the main residence is,’ she added for Darcy’s benefit, ‘to see Miller’s collection. I originally called him to set up a viewing and then afterwards to confirm the deal and arrange delivery. Then once more a couple of days ago to confirm receipt of the wire, but I couldn’t get him on either his cell or the office.’
So it seemed this Stephanie was some kind of personal assistant to the guy Aidan had been dealing with, and was involved in the sale of something in her boss’s collection. Which explained at least one of the missed phone calls to the house, Darcy thought, her mind racing now. The boss’s name ‘Miller’ seemed familiar for some reason, but she couldn’t recall why.
‘Ah, so he did get all that figured out in time,’ Nate was saying.
‘Yes. Thanks for the recommendation, by the way,’ Stephanie smiled at him. ‘Miller was very pleased with the sale price.’
Now Darcy was even more intrigued about the gift. Given that Aidan had bought it from a millionaire’s ‘collection’, it seemed like her suspicions were correct, and it was indeed some kind of rare or collectable book. But which book? she wondered, desperate to find out.
‘Arrange delivery?’ Darcy repeated, tuning back into their conversation. ‘So Aidan wasn’t going to deliver it himself?’ Delivery was an awfully impersonal word to describe presenting an important gift to a girlfriend or someone you loved, she thought.
Stephanie smiled as if she’d said something funny. ‘Not if he needed it in LA by the following day, no.’
‘LA?’ Now she was baffled. Darcy studied Stephanie and asked the question that had been bothering her all the way over here, but which Nate wouldn’t reveal until he’d spoken to his friend. ‘Stephanie, do you mind telling me what exactly Aidan was buying from you?’
‘I’m sorry – I thought you already knew that,’ she said. ‘And he was buying it not from me but from Miller, of course.
It was a car. A special edition vintage Shelby Mustang, to be exact.’
‘Oh.’ Now Darcy felt a bit silly. The rich truly were different. And so much for Aidan being eco-friendly.
She was about to ask Stephanie more about it, when somebody else walked into the room.
‘Stephanie?’ a woman asked in a harried voice – one which Darcy recognised immediately. ‘You haven’t seen that invitation to the Library benefit on New Year’s Eve, have you? I remember the invite coming in and realise that it’s on both Miller’s and my calendar, but I’ve just received a call from the steering committee and they said—’
Then Darcy understood exactly why the name ‘Miller’ rang a bell and exactly whose house this was.
Things were finally starting to fall into place.
It was Tabitha Kensington, this time without the Elizabeth Arden robe and mud mask, who was married to Miller Kensington, the man from whom Aidan had bought a car last week.
Tabitha was obviously in a rush, and was caught offguard by the fact that her husband’s assistant had guests. ‘Oh, I do apologise Stephanie, I didn’t realise you were in a meeting, but— oh, don’t I know you?’ she said, gazing at Darcy for a moment as if trying to recall where exactly she had come across her before. ‘That’s right, at Elizabeth Arden a couple of days ago. Daisy, isn’t it?’
Darcy stood up and shook Tabitha’s extended hand. ‘Darcy actually, and it’s nice to see you again.’
The woman’s gaze flicked to Nate. ‘Home for the holidays, I take it? How’s your father?’ The two duly exchanged niceties and once that was over, Tabitha turned again to Stephanie. ‘So you’ll check on that invite?’ she asked again, before turning to leave.
Stephanie nodded. ‘Right away.’
Then Tabitha stopped and looked at Darcy again, as if only then remembering what they’d talked about. ‘So I hope everything worked out with your friend – what was his name again?’
‘Aidan. Aidan Harris.’ And Darcy now understood that it was Stephanie who’d made the call to Aidan’s house on the day of the accident from the Kensington residence to, as she’d said, ‘confirm the wire transfer’.
