‘That’s an understatement,’ said Dylan.
‘How do you manage both?’ Myles asked.
‘This year it hasn’t been too bad as the stall is quite small. My former assistant, Kaisha, went travelling around Europe when she finished college – Paris, London, Milan – but she’s back in New York in the spring and has promised me she’ll help out next Christmas.’ She crossed her fingers. ‘She’s a godsend.’
‘Work is always better if you have a team you can rely on,’ said Myles. ‘And don’t apologise for talking work, I get it. I usually eat, breathe and sleep work, but took the day off today.’
‘I wish Darcy would do that.’ Cleo watched after her friend, laughing with a couple of the guests. ‘Sorry,’ she said to Dylan and Myles, ‘just thinking out loud. You know’ – she leaned closer – ‘the girl is all work and no play.’
‘Cleo,’ Dylan warned.
‘What? I’m not being mean. Believe me. I’ve been there before, hid behind my work rather than putting myself out there, I know all the signs. She says she’s happy, but she deserves more, you know?’
Myles nodded but she hadn’t finished.
‘Do you know, she had her first proper date in years the other night, and it was a disaster?’
‘Really?’ Should he admit it was him?
‘It sounds as though she was really smitten but for reasons I won’t go into, it was the only date they’ll ever have. Shame really.’
His heart sank. He looked over at Darcy, her lips glossy and teeth white when she smiled, oozing a confidence he knew hid a softer side, one she built a wall around so she could focus on her independence, what she knew she could rely on.
As his eyes roamed the room he noticed his mum hovering awkwardly by the Christmas tree as Ian talked with Mr O’Sullivan. She seemed to be having a good time, but she was also a little lost. ‘Mum, over here.’
She gladly came over and he introduced her to Dylan and Cleo. ‘Mum, Cleo owns a knitting store out in Inglenook Falls. It’s not too far from here, is it?’ He was sure Connecticut was reachable from Manhattan.
‘That’s right, not far on a train,’ Cleo confirmed.
Martha moved closer to Cleo, and Myles made room for them. ‘I was saying to Myles earlier today that it’s been far too long since I picked up any knitting. I loved it.’
‘You’ll have to come by the store. It’ll be open again after New Year’s.’
‘That’s a shame, we’ll be home in England by then.’
‘Not to worry,’ said Cleo, her eyes twinkling, ‘come by next time you’re in New York.’
When his mum glanced nervously his way, Myles nodded to her. Rather than wishing he could put more distance between them, he now welcomed ways of bringing his family back together again. ‘I’ll make sure she does,’ he said.
The rest of the evening went well. The champagne flowed in the right direction – he couldn’t help checking his mum wasn’t drinking anything alcoholic and he sensed she knew, but didn’t mind this time – and over in one corner near the tree a few of the guests played a game of charades. Even Ian and Martha joined in. Canapés came and went. Darcy flitted to and fro relishing the ambience that came from the party she’d hosted and the warmth she’d created, and by the time the last guests filtered off to their rooms Myles was left saying goodbye to Dylan and Cleo in the hallway. Cleo had passed him the details of her knitting store in Inglenook Falls and he’d promised to have his mum call her when she was next in New York so they could sort out a visit. Cleo told him she ran workshops for all levels if his mum wanted to attend one and he knew she’d leap at the chance, if only to get involved in something new.
Myles gathered glasses to take through to the kitchen. He was wired rather than exhausted and there was no way he’d be able to sleep yet.
‘You don’t need to help,’ said Darcy, although not ungratefully.
‘Have you seen this place?’ Glasses and napkins everywhere, the trash can overflowing and spills on several surfaces, it had been a successful but messy party. ‘It’s the least I can do. And remember I’m not used to taking it easy. This is a day off for me.’
‘Well I appreciate it.’ Her hair fell in waves around her shoulders, across smooth skin he remembered what it felt like to touch in those fleeting moments at The Plaza, where they’d been closer than they’d been since.
‘It sounds as though Cleo’s store is a real success,’ he said as he followed her through to the kitchen.
‘The Little Knitting Box?’
‘It even sounds a winner by its name.’
‘It’s a lovely store. And Cleo knows a thing or two about knitting. I’m still surprised she was impressed with the sweater I’m knitting. I showed her and I thought she’d think it was terrible. Did you know the Little Knitting Box was originally in the West Village?’
‘Really?’
She set down the cluster of glasses she’d brought out, tapped Rupert on the shoulder and thanked him for all his hard work tonight. ‘You go home, Rupert, I’ve got this. And I’ve got a helper too.’ She looked to Myles. ‘You’re not going to rescind your offer are you?’
He shook his head.
Rupert gratefully dried his hands, bid them both goodnight, said he was going home to collapse into bed and he’d see them in the morning.
The two of them alone again, Darcy got busy stacking the dishwasher. ‘Cleo’s shop was in the West Village for years.’
‘What happened?’ Myles began washing up some of the larger platters.
‘Dylan put her out of business.’ Smiling at the look on his face, she added, ‘Long story but it ended happily. She now owns and runs the Little Knitting Box out in Inglenook Falls. You should go some time. Now you know Dylan and Cleo, go say hello. They have a wonderful Christmas market every year, which we’re too late for this time, but next year. And it’s not all about shopping. It’s also about the mulled cider, gingerbread and roasted chestnuts.’
‘You’re inviting me?’
She hid her face by stacking cutlery in the dedicated section inside the dishwasher. ‘We’ve talked about this, Myles.’
‘I don’t get it.’
She looked at him. ‘Get what?’
‘Why you won’t give me another chance.’
‘Because I’ve spent a long time building my career. I like my independence, I value it. I want to keep it. Surely you must know how that feels.’
Before she had a chance to end the conversation he said, ‘Cleo thinks you’re doing what she once did.’
‘You spoke about me?’
He shrugged. ‘Do you mind?’
‘Depends what was said.’
‘She thinks you work too hard.’
She bristled. ‘Yeah, well if we’d had this conversation when she was first building up the Little Knitting Box a few years ago, I suspect she would’ve understood exactly where I was coming from.’ She went through to the lounge again and wiped down the bar top, the ring mark on the desk where someone had placed a cold glass of champagne.
He followed her. ‘Thank you for this evening. Mum, Dad and I all had a brilliant time.’
‘It was my pleasure.’
He watched her as she plucked crumbs from one of the armchairs, a discarded napkin from the floor. ‘It means a lot that we can have Christmas together.’
She still didn’t fully engage.
‘Darcy.’ When she stood to take out the trash she’d picked up he put a hand on her arm to stop her. And then he smiled. He reached up and hooked her hair behind her ear. ‘You’re wearing the earrings I gave you.’ The diamonds sparkled as much as her smile had tonight.
‘Myles, I—’
‘Can we talk? I mean properly.’ He nodded to the sofa. ‘Over there, sit down together.’
‘Myles, I’ve too much to do. And I’m exhausted. It’s going to be a big day tomorrow. A day that means a lot, personally and career-wise.’
He placed his hands against each of her cheeks, looking
down into ice-blue eyes that shone as they focused on his, her lips still coated with gloss he wanted to kiss away. ‘Cinderella, all this won’t disappear or turn into a pumpkin if you stay up past midnight.’
Her eyes held his a split second longer before she pulled away and picked up the garbage bag in the corner and tied it at the top.
‘Darcy?’
‘Go to bed, Myles.’
‘What the hell have I done now?’
‘Cinderella?’
‘It was a joke!’ He’d done it again, but all he’d wanted to do was lighten the tension between them, get this girl to open up to him.
‘That’s the whole problem though, isn’t it?’ The garbage was heavy and she used a second hand to steady it. ‘It’s all a joke to you. You go out in your expensive suit, dine at fancy restaurants, flatter women with gifts like earrings, but I’ve known men like you. They want the dream, the woman who’ll be by their side and support them. Don’t get me wrong, that’s fine for so many, but I can’t ever be one of those women. I don’t have a longing to be spoilt, a wish that I didn’t have to work the hours I do. I like the way I’ve built my life and I won’t ever give it up.’ Her eyes darted to his as she tried to reiterate how serious she was with everything she said. And then her hands went to one ear lobe and then the other.
‘What are you doing?’
She handed him the earrings she’d removed, the one thing he’d given her.
‘They won’t take them back, remember?’
‘Myles, take them.’
‘They were a gift.’
‘And it wasn’t appropriate.’ Her hand hovered, earrings ready to drop into his.
He put his hands behind his back, a cheeky smile forming on his lips. ‘I won’t take them.’
He almost thought she’d relent and put them back in but he should’ve known by now that backing down wasn’t something Darcy did. ‘Fine,’ she said. She put them down on the side table. ‘But I can’t keep them.’
‘Darcy, please.’
She moved towards the door leading to the basement just as they were joined by footsteps on the stairs.
‘Adele.’ Darcy was shocked to see the other guest this late. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘It’s a disaster. Holly hid all the boys’ gifts from Santa in her apartment and I’ve knocked on her door over and over, but I think she had so much champagne she must be comatose in there. If I don’t get those presents under the tree tonight, Christmas will be a catastrophe.’
Darcy left the garbage bag, went back to the desk and called Holly’s mobile. Mrs O’Sullivan was fretting, telling Myles how the elder boy was beginning to doubt Santa Claus existed and that if the presents weren’t there tomorrow morning, that would be it for good.
Darcy finally got an answer. ‘Holly, it’s Darcy. Yes, from downstairs. I’m sorry to wake you.’ She went on to explain the predicament and Myles had no choice but to leave them to it.
He watched the snow fall outside the window in the lounge, standing inside in the room where he wished the fire was roaring and Darcy was by his side so they could sort through this. He’d tried to make jokes to ease the atmosphere between them but it had backfired, and now he really didn’t know what he could possibly do.
He picked up the diamond earrings from the side table, pushed them into his pocket and went upstairs to bed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Darcy
Christmas Day
Darcy opened her eyes and it took her a moment to realise what day it was. She’d slept soundly, pushed out all thoughts of Myles and tried to focus on the job ahead.
When she threw back the covers she shivered. At five in the morning the brownstone was dark and very chilly. The heating usually kicked in around five thirty so she rubbed her hands against her pyjama top before braving the cold wooden floorboards to retrieve woolly socks she’d left on the chair at the side of the room. She slipped them on but not before peeking out from behind the blind to see what the weather was like. She pressed her face right against the glass it was so dark out, but with her hands on either side of her eyes, she could see enough.
A huge grin spread across her face. She could imagine she looked a state – dark hair sticking up on end, maybe a crease down her cheek where she’d buried herself into her pillow last night with a determination that probably caused a frown the whole night long. But if anyone saw her standing there at the window, she didn’t care. Snow covered the street, flakes fluttered down from the sky seeking out their landing spot, and the city felt quieter than it had been in a long while. All that would change once Manhattan woke up to Christmas Day, but, for now, it was a sight to behold.
She made a cup of tea in the kitchen and back in the bedroom pulled the curved-back armchair closer to the window. She opened the blind fully to the top, turned off the lamp by the bed, and gazed into the darkness. She could see enough from the glow cast by streetlamps on her side of the street and opposite, and she sat that way watching flakes cascade down from up above until the familiar clicking sounds told her the heating was getting ready for the day and the radiator started its progression from cold, through to lukewarm, and finally to hot.
And now it was time. It was time for Christmas at the Inglenook Inn, and she couldn’t wait. She jumped into the shower, singing away to the Michael Bublé album playing from her cell phone balanced on the shelf by the mirror, and when the bathroom was all steamed up, she stepped out and wrapped herself in a fluffy towel, using another to twist up her hair. She tried not to plough through all of today’s tasks in her head as she got ready. She needed this down time before the hectic day began. She and Rupert had made a detailed plan of all the cooking that needed to be done and first up was breakfast, with guests able to choose between omelette, eggs Benedict, sausages and maple bacon, the usual cereals, a selection of fruits. All of the guests had opted for breakfast and lunch so Darcy knew the kitchen was going to be operating at full capacity today.
She dried her hair, turning her head upside down to get all the layers. Today she’d dress in a pair of dark jeans with a deep-navy sparkly top and then she’d change again this afternoon. She already had an apron in the kitchen too because she knew she’d be helping Rupert, especially when it came to service.
Hair done and clothes on, Darcy took her cell phone and went downstairs, excited to be doing this, finally!
The brownstone was warm now but no familiar sounds greeted her as she reached the lounge and headed towards the kitchen. She checked her watch. Six thirty. Guests would be getting up soon.
She poked her head around the kitchen door expecting to see Rupert in full chef mode, slicing, dicing, whipping, stirring, preparing whatever he could. But he wasn’t there.
‘Rupert, where are you?’ she said out loud and tapped out a text to him. He’d said he would be here by six at the latest. He was also joining them for lunch. He’d bring a change of clothes and the second all that food was served, he’d sneak into Darcy’s apartment, spruce himself up and join them all. Then he’d make do with an apron as he served desserts and provided any after snacks. Darcy had fully supported the idea. He worked hard all year round, they’d never had any complaints about him, and she knew the Inn wouldn’t be the same without him.
When Rupert still hadn’t replied to her text after fifteen minutes, Darcy called him. He picked up on the fourth ring. Relieved, she leaned against the closed kitchen door. ‘Oh, Rupert, thank goodness.’ He’d overslept. She could hear it in his voice. ‘How long will it take you to get here?’ When he grunted she said, ‘Rupert, wake up.’ Her voice softened. Clearly he wasn’t a man who woke up easily. ‘It’s me, Darcy. It’s Christmas Day.’
‘Can’t.’ It was the only word she could make out.
‘You can’t? What do you mean?’
‘Flu.’
‘You have flu?’ OK, now wasn’t the time to panic. Except it was! ‘Is it man flu?’
‘Darce, it’s the real thing.’ She could hear it in his
voice, the way he spoke as though every syllable made his head pound and was agony in his throat. ‘I can’t get out of bed. My flatmate has been bringing me painkillers and water all night.’ He stopped talking and Darcy wondered if he’d already fallen back to sleep. ‘I’m sorry, Darce. I must’ve slept through my alarm. I meant to call earlier.’
Her coping mechanisms fired up even though she was terrified of how the hell she was going to do this. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘We planned it all, my recipes are all there.’ His words struggled to come out coherently. He was in a bad way. ‘You can do this. I’d be there if I could.’
Her heart sank. ‘I know you would.’
‘I’m sorry.’
She needed to pull herself together. She couldn’t let herself fall apart. She wouldn’t. ‘Don’t apologise, you can’t help it. Now, go back to sleep, look after yourself. Drink lots of fluids.’
‘Yes, Mum.’
When he tried to apologise again she wouldn’t hear of it. ‘I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.’
But when she ended the call her spirits slumped. How could she possibly be fine? This was going to be the world’s biggest disaster.
*
Darcy coped with breakfast. She’d done it enough times and making an omelette wasn’t overly difficult. Luckily for her, guests came down at different times, almost as though they’d planned it that way. She put out cereals and fruits, made boiled eggs for the O’Sullivans, whipped up an enormous omelette that could be cut into thirds for Myles, Ian and Martha, and squeezed oranges to make juice. Holly came downstairs looking fresher than everyone else. Darcy prepared a poppy-seed bagel for the guest she needed to impress the most and Holly took over the spreading of the honey as Darcy set a coffee down beside it.
‘Where’s that lovely young chef of yours?’ Martha asked. The sun had only just come up outside and although she’d been going through the motions until now, wishing guests a very Merry Christmas and being joyful and triumphant as guests would expect their host to be, Darcy was already willing people to disperse so she could get on with the mammoth task of food preparation.
Snowflakes and Mistletoe at the Inglenook Inn Page 26
