‘So, Rosie, shall we?’
‘I can’t spare her,’ Mimi blurted out, the immaculate composure momentarily broken. ‘We have things to discuss.’
Nate’s hand rested gently on the small of my back, turning me away from the seething Mimi. ‘Then discuss them with Ed,’ he replied lightly. ‘See you later, Mimi.’
With that, he picked up the pace and we walked briskly out of the ballroom, through the foyer and out onto the street.
I couldn’t help smiling at Nate as we walked round the corner and into a small coffee house—not least because the warmth of his hand was still present at my back. I tried to gauge his expression, but it was impossible; I couldn’t tell whether the exchange had amused him, annoyed him or something else. We found a table at the back of the café and sat down. Nate grinned at me, but I noticed his chest rising and falling faster than normal. He rubbed a hand across his forehead and picked up a menu absent-mindedly.
‘A book?’ I questioned. ‘What book?’
‘Flowers and their importance in modern city life,’ Nate replied, as quick as a flash. ‘We’ve been in discussions about it for months—don’t you remember?’
‘Ah, so all those visits to my shop were just—’
‘Business,’ he grinned, as a young Eastern European waitress arrived to take our order. ‘Just a straight Americano for me. Rosie?’
‘Tall skinny decaf latte, please.’
The waitress left. A small irritable question mark lit up in one corner of my mind. Is he just using you, Rosie Duncan? I decided to address it straight away: the last thing I needed today was unnecessary emotional quandaries. ‘I take it you were joking just now—about the book, I mean?’
‘Hey, why the worried face?’
I looked away, suddenly embarrassed by my question. ‘Nothing. Forget it.’
‘You think I care about business when I can talk to you? Oh, Rosie, of course I was joking! Look, I needed an excuse to see you and I was pretty sure Mimi wouldn’t have let you go unless I had a good reason for us to talk. Whatever else she disregards, she can’t dispute the importance of business.’ Nate’s hand reached across the table and took mine gently. ‘I just wanted the opportunity to explain.’
‘You don’t need to explain anything,’ I began, but he wasn’t finished.
‘Yes, I do. I just felt so bad about the whole David thing. You have to believe me, Rosie, I didn’t have a clue you guys knew each other.’
‘You couldn’t have known. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’ve spoken with him since and made my position quite clear.’
‘Yeah, so did I,’ Nate admitted sheepishly.
‘I know.’
His eyes widened. ‘Did he tell you that I hit him?’
I nodded. ‘But I knew before. My best friend is a journalist, remember.’
He laughed and shook his head. ‘Ah.’
‘Indeed. Don’t feel bad, Nate. None of it was your fault. I just hope I haven’t caused problems for you and Caitlin.’
He frowned and his hand fell away from mine. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Just something Mimi said.’
Instantly, I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned it. Nate’s eyes said it all. I quickly tried to backtrack, cracking a joke about the menu that bombed immediately. Nate’s attention was elsewhere. Our coffee arrived and still he didn’t say anything. I half wondered if I should just leave him there until, finally, he spoke.
‘What did she say?’ he asked quietly.
I took a breath. ‘That you and Caitlin have been arguing. She thinks it’s because we’re friends.’
Nate let out a long sigh. ‘She is way off the mark.’
I wanted to reassure him. ‘Look, Nate, it’s fine, OK? You and Caitlin have your relationship to think of. I don’t want our friendship to jeopardise that. You’re getting married, and—’
‘Caitlin isn’t my fiancée.’
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Had they broken up? ‘Sorry?’
‘At least, she shouldn’t be. Hell, this is such a mess.’
Feeling my heart sinking, I wasn’t sure what to say next. But looking at the vulnerability in his expression, I felt I had to say something. ‘I don’t understand, Nate. Did you propose to Caitlin or not?’
His eyes dropped to the table and he let go of my hand. ‘Yes, I did. Kind of. But it was only because I was pressured into it. The moment I said the words it didn’t feel right but—I don’t know—I couldn’t stop it. It was, you know, out there.’
‘Nate, I…’
He looked up again. ‘The point is, I still don’t know how I feel about her, Rosie. I need more time…I don’t feel ready to commit—well, not to Caitlin, anyhow. I don’t know, Rosie. It’s like I become a different person—like I’m schizophrenic or something. One minute I’m pretty sure of myself, you know, happy, content with my life, and then—then I’m with Caitlin and suddenly I don’t know the man who’s standing by her side. I want to be the person I am when—when I’m here, like this, with you.’
Warning bells were chiming inside my head and I began to rise involuntarily to my feet. ‘Nate, I have to get back…’
‘Please stay?’ he urged, his eyes wild with emotion I hadn’t witnessed there before. ‘I need to say this now or else I’ll never say it.’
Reluctantly, in spite of all my better judgement, I resumed my seat.
‘Rosie, since I met you I’ve felt—for the first time in a long time—like I’m understanding myself. You bring out the best in me, the Nate I aspire to be all the time. And it made me realise how unlike me I become whenever Caitlin’s around. She’s an amazing woman—ambitious, independent, stunning; she’s everything I should want to spend my life with. But there’s something missing—that final magic piece that makes it all fit. I love her but I don’t love her like I feel I should. It’s probably my own failing: maybe I see marriage as another business contract. And yes, Mimi has a point in that it makes perfect sense for me to marry her. We move in the same circles, our lives are very similar, our families are good New York clans. But the truth is, you hit the nail on the head when you said I don’t look like a man in love.’
‘Nate, I didn’t mean—’
‘But you—you, Rosie. You’re not afraid to say what you think. You’ve made me look hard at myself and I want to be so much better than what I’ve seen. You’re strong and beautiful, and being your friend makes me feel—alive…’
Suddenly, I didn’t want to hear any more. Whether it was the potency of his words or the mention of the term ‘friend’ I wasn’t sure; whatever the reason, I knew I had to get out of there, fast. ‘I—I have to go,’ I stammered, rising to my feet for a second time. Nate stood too, grabbing my hand.
‘I don’t want to scare you, Rosie. I just want you to know the muddle going on in my mind. You’re a precious part of my life and I won’t let go of you for anyone—not Mimi, not Caitlin, not Ed. Please say you understand. Please?’
For a moment, all I could do was look at him, oblivious to the assembled customers, who were now all avidly watching us. I still wasn’t sure exactly what Nate was telling me. Where did I fit into the picture? I didn’t want to look too deeply inside my head to find out how I felt about him, afraid of what would surface. But I didn’t want to lose his friendship, either.
‘Listen,’ I began quietly, ‘I don’t know what’s happening with you and Caitlin—and, to be honest, I don’t think I want to. I love you being my friend. I enjoy spending time with you. But I don’t want to be the cause of confusion or conflict. I can’t tell you what to do about your engagement: only you know how you feel. But you need to decide what you want because otherwise people are going to get hurt.’
‘I couldn’t bear to hurt you, Rosie.’
I could feel a blush creeping over my face. ‘I don’t mean me, Nate.’
‘But I do.’
I caught my breath.
‘You mean the world to me, Rosie. More than I think either of
us knows yet.’
Looking straight into his eyes, I knew he was telling the truth.
‘You need to talk to Caitlin,’ I replied, aware that this suggestion carried a whole other meaning I wasn’t prepared to explore right now.
‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘Yes I do.’
Chapter Twenty
‘All hail our great returning leader!’ Ed called with an elaborate salute as I approached my team. ‘We’re just about done here, boss. What do you reckon?’
I looked around at the venue and felt a genuine thrill at the completed design. ‘Absolutely. We’ve surpassed ourselves with this one.’
Ed sent Marnie and the grads to clear up and turned back to me. ‘Good break?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘I gather Mimi was none too impressed?’
‘You could say that. Listen, I think I might skip the ball tonight. I’m just not Mimi’s favourite person and I could do with a quiet night after all this. So if you could just escort Marnie…’
Ed hung his head. ‘Rosie, I can’t do tonight.’
‘What? But I thought you and Marnie wanted to be here. Ryan Reynolds is going to be here. You need to keep Marnie away from him.’
‘I double-booked. Yeah, I know, I suck as a best friend and I am a complete disappointment. It’s just I promised someone I’d see them tonight and—’
‘Wait—the Specific Someone?’
Ed’s head snapped up, a look of pure horror on his face. ‘What? No! My mother, Rosie.’
I couldn’t contain my giggle—or unexpected relief—at his answer. ‘Your mother?’
Ed sighed. ‘Mock as you will, I promised my mother that I’d take her to dinner with my two maiden aunts. It’s the fifth anniversary of my grandfather’s death and it’s just something we do to mark each year, OK? I didn’t realise the dates clashed until an hour ago when Mom called.’
‘Fine, that’s no problem.’
‘Hey, look, it’ll be good tonight. You don’t have to stay for ever and, anyway, you should be here to garner the praise for your design.’
‘Our design.’
‘Sure, but you know me. Always the shy partner in this outfit.’
I folded my arms. ‘And since when have you ever been shy about anything, Ed?’
He tapped the side of his nose with his forefinger. ‘More often than you realise, boss.’
Travelling back to my apartment, I found myself niggled by Ed’s parting shot. What did he mean? I had just turned the key in my front door lock when my cell phone began to ring.
‘Rosie? Is that you?’
‘Well, this is my mobile number so it’s either me or a very courteous thief,’ I smiled, throwing my bag onto the sofa and walking into the kitchen to put the kettle on.
‘Ah, the great British sense of humour,’ Celia replied, ‘so dry. Are you going to Mimi’s ball tonight?’
‘Looks like I have no choice,’ I grimaced, grabbing a mug and teabag. ‘Why?’
There was a long pause at the other end of the call. ‘Just—just promise me you won’t talk to anyone, OK?’
‘Celia, honey, it’s an event with hundreds of guests. What do you expect me to do, ignore everyone else?’
‘Don’t be crazy, Rosie. I just mean don’t talk to anyone from the press.’
‘Why ever not?’
‘I—I can’t explain yet. I’m still working out the details. Just trust me on it, OK?’
‘Celia, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?’
‘Really, honey, it’s fine. Just don’t talk to anyone who’s likely to be a journalist. Especially if they ask about James.’
My heart sank faster than a concrete block in the Hudson River. ‘What’s he done? What’s happening?’
‘I was worried you’d act like this, James is fine, OK. There are some things that may or may not involve him, but they’re just rumours for now—nothing for you to worry about. The press are digging for information and if they make the link between you and him they may try to ask you questions.’
‘But I don’t know anything about it!’
‘Exactly. So you should be fine.’
‘Are you there tonight?’
‘I should be—later on, perhaps. I have to see my mother first.’
‘What is it with my friends and their mothers today?’ The question was rhetorical, but belied the frustration inside my head.
‘Sorry?’
‘Nothing. I’ll see you later, and I promise not to talk to any nasty journalists, right?’
‘Good. And try not to worry.’
‘Who’s worrying?’
‘That’s the spirit. Bye!’
Taking my mug of tea, I sat down by the window and gazed out at the frosty street outside. After a moment, my attention turned to the daunting prospect of what to wear for the ball I hadn’t intended to attend.
Mr K used to find women’s dressing quandaries amusing and perplexing in equal measures. When female customers would enter the store, red-faced and breathless from a good day’s shopping, he would politely enquire about their purchases and would always regret asking when, twenty minutes later, their blow-by-blow accounts of the reasons behind their choices were addling his poor brain.
‘Women confuse me,’ he often admitted, after his customers had departed. ‘They are beautiful creatures, yet they waste so much life concerned by their clothes and their appearance. And if they are not fretting about their own appearance, they gossip about other people’s. Believe me, Rosie, I thank Papa every day that I was born a simple man.’
I remembered his words and they made me smile, as I stepped out of the cab in my chosen outfit—a simple long black dress with the silver velvet wrap Celia had given me for my birthday draped around my shoulders. Understated and—I hoped—sufficiently unremarkable to allow me to pass through the guests unnoticed. It was starting to rain as I moved quickly along the plush red carpet lit by rows of tiny white lights, as camera bulbs flashed from the gaggle of paparazzi crammed either side of the roped-off entrance, jostling to catch the best shot of the A-list guests. Black limousines drew slowly up in solemn procession to the end of the red carpet behind me as I ascended the stairs to enter The Illustrian, and I could hear the shouts of photographers mingling with screams of excited fans on the street. ‘Cate!’ ‘Jennifer!’ ‘Over here—over here!’
Once through the grand entrance doors, I began to scan the crowd for familiar faces. After a couple of minutes, I found one: unfortunately for me, however, the face belonged to Philippe Devereau. I tried to back into the crowd, but it was too late. He strode purposefully towards me.
‘Good evening, Ms Duncan. I’d like to say it’s a delight, but I won’t.’
I hoped my smile looked authentic enough to fool him. ‘And I wouldn’t expect you to say anything different, Philippe.’
His expensive veneers sneered back, but I caught the slightest glimmer of softness in his eyes. ‘Actually, I came to congratulate you.’
I couldn’t hide my surprise. ‘You did?’
‘Amazingly enough. Though I hate to admit it, the displays are excellent. You and your team have surpassed even my expectations.’
I wasn’t entirely sure this was much of a compliment, considering how low Philippe’s opinion of Kowalski’s usually was. ‘Well, thank you. I’m pleased with the result.’
He paused for a second and then jerkily proffered his hand. From the look of uncertainty on his face, it was clear this was something he had not attempted often. ‘Truce?’
Tonight was already turning out to be a night of surprises. I shook his hand. ‘Absolutely. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome,’ he replied. ‘Besides, I have it on good authority that Mimi has had a long overdue change of heart. Apparently, Kowalski’s is so last year. Added to that the fact that, only today, I received a commission for studio flowers on The Letterman Show, you and your little business are really of no concern to me any longer.’ With that, he turned on his Cuban heels and
disappeared into the crowd.
I had to laugh. What Mimi had planned as a devastating blow to my business had actually turned out to be the biggest relief. Kowalski’s could more than hold its own in New York: we had proved that tonight.
Marnie suddenly appeared from behind one of the tall marble pillars in the lobby, nearly giving me heart failure in the process. ‘Rosie! Thank goodness you’re here! Did you see Ryan Reynolds yet?’
‘No, not yet.’
‘Was that Philippe? It’s such as shame we have to hate him. He is one stunning specimen of manhood.’
I laughed. ‘Well, he’s all yours now. He’s called a truce. You look lovely, by the way.’
She gave an excited twirl, the sea-green chiffon of her long strapless gown billowing out as she moved. ‘You think? I got it from a vintage shop in SoHo. And this,’ she indicated the small diamanté butterfly slide holding back one side of her blonde hair, ‘came from the flea market Mack told me about in East Village.’
‘It’s gorgeous.’
‘I was kind of hoping it might look good enough to get Ryan to notice me. Oh my, Rosie! I’m actually going to be in the same room as him! I’m so excited I can hardly breathe!’ Her pale cheeks flushed and for a moment I was worried that there might just be a loud bang and Marnie would explode in a shower of sparkling stars.
‘Calm down, honey! Have you had a drink?’
‘No, I was too scared to take one from the waiters in case they threw me out.’
I took her arm. ‘Right, well, let’s go and find one to disprove your theory, eh?’
We made our way through the clamour of guests, weaving in and out of smart tuxedos and elegant designer gowns towards the centre of the ballroom. With the tiny white fairy lights twinkling from their hiding places within the garlands, the overall effect was magical. Sometimes I have to pinch myself when I see one of our finished projects, especially the large ones. This one was by far the largest event Kowalski’s had attempted and it was simply stunning. I could see Marnie was thinking the same thing too; her eyes were misty and wide as she surveyed the room.
‘Wow, Rosie. We did this!’
Fairytale of New York Page 24
