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I'll Take New York

Page 3

by Miranda Dickinson


  ‘I don’t see why. Sure, I screwed up: I admit it! But we can move on from this, Bea. I want to make amends.’

  ‘Amends? How, exactly? Are you going to go and personally apologise to every member of my family who waited for you in the restaurant last night?’

  He couldn’t hide his wince from her. ‘If necessary.’

  ‘My parents set off on their trip this morning. You might catch them somewhere in upstate New York if you’re quick.’

  ‘Baby …’ He ran a frustrated hand through his dark hair and gave her his best ‘pleading puppy’ look. Ordinarily, this would have worked, Bea relenting at the sight of his contrition.

  Not today, Otis, she told herself sternly. Today I need answers for everything.

  ‘And my brother was baying for your blood. Which, considering Stewart is officially the most laid-back person in the city, was no mean feat.’

  Her older brother Stewart – who had never been particularly fond of Bea’s boyfriend – reckoned his sister was attracted to the wrong kind of men. This, of course, was easy for him to surmise, especially given how loved-up he was with his older partner, Celia. Since the pair of them had met at the New York Times where he was a staff writer, writing as Stewart Mitchell (their mother’s maiden name) and Celia was a star columnist, they had been virtually inseparable, settling into the easy rhythm of a deeply contented pairing in which they still remained. Just like every other couple in the James family.

  Staring at her grovelling partner, Bea felt a well of unease rising within her. She loved him, but how much did he really feel for her? He’d said it himself: they had been here many times before. Surely after five years something should have changed? She wanted him to step up, to make good all of his overblown promises that never managed to come to fruition. Was she kidding herself that it was possible? The more she looked at Otis Greene, the louder the white noise in her head grew.

  This is ridiculous. It’s never going to change. I deserve more than this.

  Otis edged closer, his earnest dark eyes searching her face for an invitation. ‘Baby … What can I do to make this good with us?’

  She was tired. Too tired to ride the merry-go-round any more. ‘I don’t know. I think I need some time to think.’

  ‘So take some time. Call me when you want to continue this discussion.’ It was defensive but Bea suspected Otis was relieved to be excused from any further apologising he might have been called upon to do tonight.

  ‘No, that’s not what I meant.’

  ‘Then what, Bea? What are you saying?’

  What am I saying? Bea considered this, her heart thumping. She didn’t want to be in this argument again. Ever. Slowly, it began to dawn on her.

  ‘I’m saying …’ she began, picking her words as if tiptoeing across a minefield ‘… I think we’re done. We keep returning to the same problems and I – I just can’t go over it any more. I need to be me again, Otis. Not some paranoid half of a relationship that isn’t going anywhere. I think this is it for us. I’m sorry.’

  Otis blinked. This wasn’t how it worked: he made apologetic noises; Bea gave in; serenity was restored. Bea’s response seemed to throw a spanner in the works. Dropping his gaze, he stepped back. ‘If that’s what you want.’

  Surprised by the strength of her own conviction, Bea stood tall. ‘It is.’

  The silence in the bookshop was louder than the angry lines of traffic on 8th Avenue outside. Bea retreated behind the counter. Otis stared up at the high ceiling as if expecting to find answers to this new situation written there. Outside, the heavy raindrops battered against the bookstore windows and the world beyond them.

  ‘Then I should go?’ It was more of a question than a statement of intent.

  ‘We both should.’

  Otis began to reply but the crash of the bookstore door snatched his attention. Dripping wet, Russ O’Docherty clutched a fast disintegrating cardboard cup-holder as he struggled to close the door without losing three teetering coffee cups in the process.

  ‘Sorry I took so long. It’s like Armageddon out there …’ He stopped when he saw their expressions. ‘Oh boy, are you guys not done?’

  ‘Actually, I was just leaving,’ Otis replied, the lightness of his tone knocking the wind from Bea’s stomach. He helped himself to a coffee cup and turned back to Bea. ‘Call me when you’re ready. Remember I love you.’

  Russ watched his friend leave and held out his hands in surprise. ‘What happened?’

  Bea slumped in the grandfather armchair beside the counter. ‘I think we broke up.’

  Shocked, Russ hurried over and hovered hesitantly by her side. ‘Really? Only he said, “I love you.” Usually guys don’t choose that line when they’re breaking up with someone.’

  ‘I think I might have broken up with him.’ Tears welled in Bea’s eyes as the frustration of the past week overwhelmed her. ‘The thing is, I don’t think I can do this again, Russ. I’m the laughing stock of my family: the only James to fail at relationships. And I really don’t want this to be all I end up thinking about.’ She looked up at her friend, who took the hint and knelt by her, taking her hand. ‘My business is doing great, the rest of my life is pretty good. I don’t want to be the kind of woman who is ruled by her love life, you know?’

  ‘You’re not,’ Russ assured her.

  ‘I feel like I am.’

  ‘Yeah, well, you’re not and that’s all there is to it. I’ve watched you work so hard to make this place a success, and I know how many people love you, Bea. Most of New York would kill for that kind of résumé. And I don’t think you’re a failure. So here’s one person who isn’t laughing at you.’

  Bea shook her head, a small smile breaking free. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Otis made a mistake. A big one, I’ll admit. But deep down he does love you: I’m sure of it. I think maybe you should focus on what makes you happy for a while. Maybe when you do that, you’ll be ready to try again.’

  Russ’ unquestioning loyalty to his friend would have been touching in any other setting, but today it wasn’t helpful. Irritated, Bea stood and moved away.

  ‘What if I don’t want to try again? Hmm?’

  ‘I’m just saying you might …’

  ‘What is it with you and Otis?’ Bea demanded, knowing this wouldn’t help the situation but compelled to challenge her best friend’s stance. ‘Why must you always defend him?’

  Russ rose to his feet and faced her. ‘He’s my friend, Bea. Of course I’ll defend him. But it shouldn’t make a difference whatever I say. You have to decide if you want to be with Otis or not.’

  ‘Can’t you see what he’s done to me? Don’t you think he was wrong?’

  ‘Of course I do …’

  ‘Then why not support me? Does our friendship mean so little to you?’

  ‘This isn’t about us, Bea, so don’t make out like I don’t support you.’ Russ sighed and took off his black-rimmed glasses to wipe the rain-splattered lenses on the bottom of his vintage rock T-shirt. ‘I’ve supported you for as long as we’ve known each other. You know I have. Sure, I think Otis was out of line when he let you down in front of your family. And yes, I agree, this isn’t the first time you’ve been disappointed. I told him he’s a Class A jerk for not putting you first, actually – not that you’ll believe me. I warned him he’d lose you if he didn’t straighten up his act. But above that, I can’t do a thing to change who he is or any of the decisions he makes.’

  Bea stared at him, hating Russ for his logical view of life. It had always been his secret weapon. The worst of it was, it made sense. He wasn’t to blame for Otis’ bad decisions and he was perfectly entitled to be friends with whomever he wanted.

  ‘It would just be nice to have you on my side,’ she replied, her voice small and vulnerable as she spoke.

  ‘I don’t take sides, Bea. But I’m not a heartless individual either. You know I care about you and I want you to be happy. Heaven knows you deserve it. Take some time out. Figure o
ut what it is you want and whether Otis can provide it or not. In the meantime, I’m your friend and I’m here for you. OK?’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Good.’ He popped his glasses back on. ‘And the rain must’ve made me psychic because I bought you a peppermint mocha.’ He held out a cup, a wry smile returning. ‘Did I make the right choice?’

  There was no point arguing any more. And the coffee smelled good. Still convinced she and Otis were over, Bea nodded at Russ. ‘You did good.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Kowalski’s, corner of West 68th and Columbus, Upper West Side

  The small silver bell chimed out over his head as Jake walked into his soon-to-be sister-in-law’s florist shop in the pleasantly chic neighbourhood in the Upper West Side. A rush of floral fragrance assaulted his senses from the rainbow-hued display in galvanised steel buckets. Jake loved it here – and completely understood why his brother had chosen to give his skills to the neighbourhood florists’ instead of the high-tech, faceless floral boutiques in New York City. There was a peace about the little store that few other shops in Manhattan had, a sense of timelessness that made even the busiest customer linger.

  A pretty, heavily pregnant young woman with shocking pink streaks in her hair screamed from behind the counter and hurried towards him.

  ‘Jake! Oh, it’s so good to see you, honey!’ Hugging him with her large belly was a challenge but she made an enthusiastic attempt at it.

  He laughed, despite being almost knocked off his feet by Rosie’s kooky assistant. ‘Great to see you, Marnie. And look at you! How long till D-Day?’

  She pulled a face. ‘Six weeks. I’m kinda hoping it’ll be earlier but my obstetrician told me it might be a week over.’ She rubbed her back. ‘I feel like I’m carrying a moose, not a couple of babies. I blame Zac’s quarterback genes. But anyway, how are you?’

  Jake ignored the sinking feeling when he saw Marnie’s smile morph into concern. It was barely a month since his separation from Jessica had become public knowledge and already he dreaded receiving the identical expression from everyone he met. He knew their concern was well meant, but it still made him wince. It was as if somehow the fact his wife had chosen to live her life without him was cause for the whole world to pity him, as if he was less of a man.

  ‘I’m good,’ he replied, his voice already bearing the singsong notes of someone who really, really didn’t want to discuss it any more. ‘I’m here to rescue your boss from the whining Steinmann charm of my brother.’

  Marnie grinned. ‘Good call. Any longer and there might not have been a wedding at all.’ Throwing her head back, she yelled, ‘Ed! Jake’s here!’

  ‘Thank goodness for that!’ a familiar voice replied and moments later the welcome smile of Rosie Duncan lit up the store as she walked in from the workroom. With her dark eyes, dark brown hair and pale English rose complexion, Rosie was striking to look at, even though her demeanour revealed how little she realised it.

  ‘Hey sis-in-law-to-be,’ Jake grinned, dispensing with the tradition of respectable cheek kisses and scooping her into a huge embrace instead. ‘Boy, am I glad to see you.’

  ‘Tough day?’ she asked, the smile not leaving her face, for which Jake was unspeakably grateful.

  ‘As much as ever,’ he replied, happy that, with Rosie at least, this was sufficient to draw a line under the subject.

  ‘And now it’s going to get tougher having to spend time with the love of my life,’ she laughed. ‘Are you sure you can handle my fiancé?’

  ‘Leave him with me. There’s nothing Ed can throw at me I haven’t seen before. I used to be his wing-man back in his dating days – and believe me, once you’ve pulled your brother from a New York bar brawl pretty much anything else is mundane.’

  ‘You are a godsend, Jake Steinmann,’ Rosie laughed, squeezing his hand. ‘He’s been driving us insane all day.’

  ‘I thought I knew how grouchy he could be after all these years working with him, but he’s reached new depths of pessimism,’ Marnie agreed.

  ‘Sounds like my brother. Is he ready?’

  ‘As I’ll ever be,’ Ed replied, striding into the store and planting a kiss on Rosie’s head. ‘Thanks so much for the glowing summation of my current state of mind there, girls.’

  ‘We’re only saying what we see,’ Rosie smiled up at him – and Jake felt his heart tug as he saw the way she looked at his brother. Had Jessica ever looked at him that way? He thought she had, yet the pain of recent events clouded his memories. But Ed deserved to be happy, he reminded himself. One happy Steinmann had to be a good thing for the world …

  ‘Hmm. Well, I’ll let you off this time, Ms Duncan.’

  ‘Excellent. You do that. And don’t depress your brother.’ She jabbed a finger into Ed’s chest, before turning to Jake. ‘If he gets too much, just shove him in a cab and send him back, OK?’

  Jake chuckled. ‘Deal.’

  The bar Ed had chosen was one Jake vaguely remembered visiting before – probably to watch a baseball game with his brother before Jessica had swept into his life and taken him to the other side of America. It felt odd to be thinking of things he had done pre-Jess, especially as all of his recent thoughts had been consumed with memories of their marriage. But it was a positive change, he decided. And something positive in his life was way overdue.

  They settled at a booth and ordered beer. Even though it was early, Jake was glad of the cold buzz the bottle gave him. A little bit reckless, drinking in the daytime, he reasoned. Jessica would not have been impressed …

  ‘You literally saved my life,’ Ed grinned, clinking the neck of his beer bottle with Jake’s. ‘I feel bad leaving Rosie in charge of wrangling wedding guests but, trust me, she’s a better man than me for the job.’

  ‘You’re lucky, you know,’ Jake replied, taking another swig of beer. ‘Rosie’s a wonderful woman.’

  ‘She is.’ Ed seemed to glow in the darkened bar booth. ‘I have to pinch myself every day. I know how lucky I am.’

  ‘I’m happy for you. And, hey, I’m sorry I wasn’t in town for your engagement party, man. There seems to have been a lot happening in New York that I missed.’

  Ed frowned. ‘What engagement party?’

  ‘Yours and Rosie’s?’ Jake stared at his brother. ‘Don’t tell me you guys didn’t have an engagement party?’

  ‘No, we didn’t. We got engaged and then had a string of big wedding orders at Kowalski’s so we – didn’t get round to it.’

  Jake couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Surely the momentous event of Rosie and Ed agreeing to marry each other should be marked? He thought back to the lavish engagement party he and Jessica had enjoyed in an exclusive New York club – so expensive that it rivalled the wedding for extravagance. Back then it seemed the most natural thing to do. The expense was an expression of the enormous impact Jessica’s acceptance of his proposal had on his life; to spend any less wouldn’t have done their engagement justice.

  ‘And Rosie was OK with that?’

  Ed shrugged. ‘It was her idea.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe.’

  ‘Then you clearly don’t know my fiancée very well. Rosie’s practical. She didn’t want the hassle of organising a party when we were flat out at Kowalski’s.’

  Jessica would never have stood for that. From the earliest days of their relationship Jake had learned that everything his partner did was designed to be seen by others. One hundred and fifty guests to the exclusive engagement party; two hundred guests to their wedding at her parents’ house overlooking beautiful Half Moon Bay; and no expense spared at either. Both events had been reported in the society pages, the beautiful people of New York and California gathered in black tie and ball gowns for the eager lenses of the national press. Of course Rosie was different, but Jake still felt a pang of sadness that she had been denied the opportunity to celebrate her engagement.

  ‘I have an idea,’ he said, even as it was still forming in his mind.
>
  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Let me throw you guys a party. Consider it my belated engagement gift.’

  ‘I couldn’t ask you to do that, man.’

  The more he considered it, the more Jake believed his idea to be a great one. ‘I’m serious, Ed. Let me do this for you. You and Rosie have been rocks for me lately. I just want to repay your kindness. What do you say?’

  Surprised, Ed hugged his brother. ‘Yes, then. Thanks, bro.’

  Jake smiled as they pulled apart. It was a brilliant idea: allowing him to express his deep gratitude for the support he’d received from Rosie and Ed while also giving him something completely non-Jessica-related to focus on. Besides, it had been a while since he had felt like celebrating. This could be just what the doctor ordered.

  You’re a genius, Jake Steinmann, he congratulated himself. This party is the start of something new …

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Celia and Stewart’s apartment, 91st Street Upper West Side

  Bea stepped out of the yellow cab and gazed up at the bay windows of the traditional New York brownstone building. She loved this street and had taken every opportunity to visit since her brother Stewart had moved in here with his girlfriend Celia. The leafy boughs of London Plane trees rustled in the light breeze above her head and gave the street an air of serenity and calm, despite the constant buzz of Manhattan traffic at the end of the block. It seemed a world away from Brooklyn and the perfect place for Bea after the events of the day. Right now, she needed familiarity and comfort – and her brother was the one who could provide it.

  ‘Bea! Come on up,’ Stewart’s voice crackled through the door intercom and Bea headed inside the elegant brownstone. He was waiting for her as she reached his floor, leaning casually against the doorframe of his apartment. ‘Coffee’s on and I have muffins from M&H Bakers.’

 

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