As Nathan escorted the girls off the stage, Darcey whispered, “Nathan, I mean, Mr. Cromwell, that was very kind of you to wish that for Darcey.” She finally looked him straight in his beautiful eyes. He simply smiled at her.
Was that sadness she saw?
Carmen stared up at Nathan. “Thank you, Mr. Cromwell. I hope you get your wish, too. Can I ask you a personal question?”
Nathan winked. “Ask away.”
In the most adult sounding tone she could muster, Carmen asked, “Are you married?”
He chuckled at her question. “Unfortunately, no.”
He was still laughing and Darcey couldn’t help but join in when Carmen pressed on, “Then how about a girlfriend?”
They stopped in their tracks. Even Darcey wanted to know the answer to the little girl’s question. The memory of a broken-hearted Nick and the thought of Nathan stealing Nick’s girlfriend flooded her heart with conflicting emotions.
Nathan shook his head and in a sombre voice replied, “Sadly, none.”
Carmen smiled from ear to ear. She looked like she heard the greatest news. “I’m happy to hear that, Mr. Cromwell. “But may I ask why?”
Nathan cleared his throat. Darcey wanted the earth to swallow her and spit her back into her warm bed at home.
“Well…” Nathan looked hesitant. Then he smiled at Carmen. “Well, there is someone special.”
He bent down to whisper into Carmen’s ear. Darcey couldn’t make out what it was and quickly hated herself for wanting to know so badly.
Carmen’s face turned sour. “Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“What’s the matter?” Darcey asked. She looked at Nathan and gave him an accusing stare. “What did you say to her?”
He smiled and shrugged, giving Darcey an ‘I’m not telling’ look.
Carmen blushed and was quiet for a few moments as they walked away from the crowd. All of a sudden she looked at Darcey. “Well, I thought, if Mr. Cromwell was single, he can date you, Darcey.”
Chapter 22
Darcey woke up one morning and was greeted by an email that could very well change the course of her life. It was an email from the magazine Nathan persuaded her to contact. The email informed her that an interview was scheduled the following Saturday at the Berkeley Hotel, a five-star hotel in Knightsbridge, London. One of the publishers would personally be there.
The weekend couldn’t arrive fast enough for Darcey. All week she moaned and griped, asking Tricia for advice on what to say and Luis on how to say it and what to wear. The thought of calling Nathan crossed her mind several times but she fought the urge to pick up the phone. There was no way she was going to allow him to hurt her again.
By the time Saturday rolled in, she felt as ready as she could possibly be, which wasn’t saying much. To say she was feeling nervous would have been an understatement.
Darcey wiped her sweaty palms against the pencil skirt she wore, eyeing her reflection in the mirror with gritted teeth. The Chanel tweed blazer she inherited from her grandmother at least did a bit of magic to her confidence. The silk top was a last-minute gift from the generous Tricia. The reflection that faced her was that of a smart and classy lady, although she felt anything but.
At quarter past three, she strolled out of her apartment, nervously rehearsing some lines in her head. She got off her stop with no incidents and fortunately the weather was cooperating that day. The hotel loomed ahead--stoic, beautiful and way too intimidating.
You can do this. You can do this, she muttered to herself as she quickened her steps.
Click!
“Darn!” Darcey looked down and saw a dismaying sight. One of her heels broke on the pavement.
“Darn it! You have to be joking!”
She looked at her watch. There was no time to head over to Harrods and buy a new pair. She grabbed the broken heel and shook her head, fighting back tears of anger. She had ten minutes before four o’clock struck.
“Darcey!”
She knew that voice. Sure enough Nathan was walking down the steps of the Berkeley Hotel.
“Nathan? What are you doing here?”
He grinned, a perfect smile flashed in front of Darcey. “Moral support and to make sure you get to be interviewed by the right person this time. You did text me where and when it would be.”
Not knowing what to say and feeling completely taken back at the sight of Nathan, she weakly raised her shoe. He studied it briefly.
Darcey sighed. “The interview is in ten minutes. I don’t wanna be late but how am I going to go in there barefoot?”
A few cars carrying hotel guests were trying to drop off their occupants. One of the vehicles honked at them. Nathan gently guided Darcey by the arm up the front steps.
“Give me the shoe that’s not broken.”
She gave him a questioning look.
“Come on, Darcey, you don’t have time. Trust me. Come on.”
Without another word, she took off the other shoe and handed it to him, anticipation swelling in her chest.
“Stay right here and give me a couple of minutes.” He ran back to the hotel and Darcey stood by the hotel’s front door, pink with embarrassment.
As promised, Nathan came back in less than five minutes. “Here. Now both of your shoes are fine.” He beamed at her, beads of sweat lined his smooth face.
“How did you…?”
“Trust me, I got skills. I trained as a shoemaker.” He winked and took back one of the shoes. To her surprise, Nathan knelt in front of her and helped her foot into the shoe. Darcey almost forgot about how Nathan stole Nick’s girlfriend. Almost.
As soon as she had both shoes on, she tried walking in them. She gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you for this and for being here. I was quite nervous. That’s probably why I tripped.”
Nathan placed his hands on her shoulders gently. Immediately she knew his touch hadn’t lost the ability to caress her emotions raw and deep.
“Darcey, you’re going to do just fine. I believe in you. Now, do me a favour and breathe.”
She let out a deep breath.
“Feeling better?”
“Yes, I can do this. I want this job. Come on, let’s go!”
They stepped into the hotel together. When they got inside, sights of marble floors, exquisite flower bouquets and splendidly dressed guests greeted Darcey.
Nathan turned to her and gave her a small kiss on the cheek. “I shall be at the bar. I’m sure whoever will interview you will love you. I have a good feeling about this.” With that he turned away and walked across the lobby to the other side of the hotel.
She asked the staff where the Caramel room was. A man in a tux led her to a table in the corner of the lobby where a silver-haired lady sat reading Vogue. The older woman wore a fancy coiffure hairstyle and her red lipstick appeared to have been applied with the most expert care.
“Excuse me.”
The lady slowly placed the magazine down and lifted her delicate chin. Her stunning grey eyes scrutinized Darcey’s face for a few unsettling seconds then her gaze slid down, assessing the job applicant’s outfit.
Darcey fought to urge to cringe. “Hello, I’m Darcey Vaughn.” She extended her hand.
“You’re late.” The reply came with a smirk.
Darcey hurriedly looked at her watch. She was exactly one minute late. “I’m sorry. I had a mishap with my heels earlier.”
“I can tell. I’m not blind.” The woman motioned with her hand, inviting Darcey to sit and the younger woman gladly obliged. The lady was American, her accent was clear. Everything about her appearance was pristine and expensive.
“We’re having afternoon tea.” It wasn’t a question. The lady then motioned for a waiter to come over. “We’re having champagne high tea.” The voice was polite yet crisp. This was a woman who ate authority for breakfast.
And maybe job applicants for afternoon tea, Darcey thought nervously.
“I don’t know if my secretary informed
you, I’m Sissi Anderson. Managing Director of C’est La Vie.”
Darcey extended her hand once again and this time Sissi took it, her eyes boring into Darcey’s intensely.
“So, tell me, Darcey, have you had afternoon tea here?” The smile was suddenly sweet, but it didn’t seem genuine.
Luckily, Luis and Trisha enjoyed checking out afternoon teas at different hotels and Darcey had accompanied her two friends on more than one occasion.
“Yes, Prêt-à-Portea here at the Berkeley is in my top three favourite afternoon tea experiences.”
The lady raised an eyebrow. Prêt-à-Portea was one of the hotel’s signature teas. Mouth-watering delicacies decorated after the latest fashion trends were typically served.
“What are the other two and why?” Sissi tilted her elegant neck a tad, giving Darcey a chance to admire the lady’s perfect profile.
The waiter came back with their champagne and some sweets which he set expertly on the table, giving Darcey a few seconds to compose an answer. “In no certain order, I love the afternoon tea at Fortnum and Mason. It has a real British feel to it. And the shop is wonderful--perfect for shopping with friends and catching up. I also love tea at the Savoy. In fact, it’s my favourite. My grandparents used to take me out on a date at the West End. I had my first proper afternoon tea without the champagne, of course. I was only twelve.” She took a deep breath and smiled politely.
Sissi nodded, a bored expression on her face. She might as well have been listening to a financial report.
Darcey began to wonder why she wasn’t conducting a proper interview. Why the need for afternoon tea? She forced a smile. Awkward silences made her feel more nervous and, in turn, the nervousness always got her to speak more.
“Prêt-à-Portea is a twist on our classic afternoon teas. In fact, their pastry chef attends fashion shows to come up with the designs. Their cakes and cookies are inspired by the catwalk.”
Darcey pointed at the sweets on their table. “This is from the latest Burberry coat design and this is from a Gucci bag. Last time I came here they had sweets inspired by the Spring and Summer bikini collection.”
Sissi took a sip of champagne. Darcey noticed the woman’s glamorous nails. It made her think of her own short colourless nails. She absentmindedly placed both hands on her lap, away from the elegant woman’s eyes.
“Have you travelled, Miss Vaughn?”
“Well, I went on a backpacking trip during my gap year. I worked at a summer camp in Venice. And then with the money I saved from birthday and Christmas presents I went around Europe. Once I flew to America, visited a few states in the east and west coasts. Then a friend and I drove down to San Diego and crossed the border to Mexico.”
Sissi didn’t say anything, she simply nodded a tiny bit and continued to stare into Darcey’s eyes with the same bored expression.
Darcey, nervous as ever, felt beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She nibbled on a cookie before continuing, speaking in a quicker tempo. “I came back home for Christmas that year and then as the new year rolled in I travelled to Asia--Japan, Korea, the Philippines, Thailand, Hong Kong, and parts of China…”
“I get it, you went all over Asia because it was cheap.”
Darcey shook her head, feeling the sugar rush from the cookies. “No, actually, because I was interested in different culture, exotic places and food.”
The waiter came back with a three-tier tray filled with cakes. The sweets came in adorable shapes of fashion items like stilettos and bags. There were sandwiches made with succulent salmon, cucumber and watercress along with scones and clotted cream served on very delicate cups and saucers.
Darcey’s mouth watered at the sight of goodies. “May I pour you some tea?”
Sissi nodded and Darcey poured the tea carefully, making sure it didn’t overflow. Darcey was surprised she managed to pull it off without looking like the Mad Hatter.
“Actually, pouring tea for you just now reminded me so much of Japan where the tea ceremony is a very old tradition. If my memory serves me right, it’s a tradition aged eight hundred years old. I got the chance to attend a tea class while I was visiting.”
Darcey’s tale of Japan and an ancient tradition from the Land of the Rising Sun must have caught the older lady’s attention. Sissi leaned towards Darcey gracefully, her beautiful eyes curious. Something about those deep eyes looked familiar to Darcey, as if she had looked into their depths before. Could it be?
“Tell me more about it.” Sissi gave a smile. It almost looked sincere.
“Well, the object of the ceremony is not about drinking tea but rather the idea of preparing tea from the heart.” Darcey quickly racked her brains, trying to remember what her sensei in Japan taught her. Memories of aromatic green tea and the beautiful ancient architectures of Kyoto filled her mind with happy thoughts. She went on, “Every action and method helps balance the sweetness and bitterness of the matcha.”
“Interesting. Carry on.” Sissi bit into a scone and softly patted her lips with the linen napkin.
Something about those eyes. What is it?
Darcey pushed the distracting thoughts aside. “It’s all about providing the right attention to your guest. Even the placement of the tea utensils is designed to be convenient from the guests’ viewpoint, especially the main guest.”
She felt a surge of elation at Sissi’s genuine interest in her travel tales. Feeling more relaxed, she grabbed a scone from the table, cut it open carefully and placed some clotted cream and strawberry jam on the pastry. She was about to take a bite when Sissi said the words that almost got her choking.
“Are you willing to move to Los Angeles, Miss Vaughn?” Sissi’s features were stoic and stern.
“You see, Mrs. Anderson, I want this job.” Darcey brushed off a stray hair from her face, suddenly annoyed at Sissi’s perfect coif. “I’ve always wanted to write for a magazine for years. When a friend of mine showed me the job advert, I hesitated because that would mean I have to move. But I believe that sometimes we need to take risks and leave the life we’re used to. Who knows, maybe the life waiting for us is a life we’ve never imagined, even in our most beautiful daydreams of sun, waves and romance.“
Despite the other woman’s stern demeanour, Darcey couldn’t help but be as honest as possible. She wondered when the real interview questions would come. She mentally counted two cups of tea had been consumed and the champagne bottle was running dangerously low.
“You’re not married but is there someone who might be a reason for you not to move?”
“No.” There was hesitation in Darcey’s voice. For some unexplainable reason, she felt the unsure. “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.”
Sissi raised an eyebrow. “No one? What a strange thing to say.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What do you do at the moment?”
“I work as a personal assistant and a nanny.”
“And you hate taking orders now and want to dabble in writing? How adorable.”
Darcey knew her buttons were being pushed. If she didn’t remind herself that she was going through a job interview, she would have gladly walked out on the snooty American.
After a few more personal questions about Darcey’s upbringing and education, the younger woman wished it would end right away. She figured she wouldn’t get the job. Twice she almost lost her patience with Sissi’s haughty tone and stare.
“OK, Miss Vaughn, I shall send the contract and your job offer through my secretary.”
Darcey was taken back. She coughed out a piece of scone and jam and quickly placed her napkin on her mouth, an act far removed from Sissi’s delicate manners, no doubt.
“Does that mean I’m hired?” She couldn’t believe it.
“Six months on probation and, yes, I guess I should say ‘Welcome to the C’est la Vie’ magazine.’” Sissi smiled. To Darcey it looked like a smirk.
“Well, I guess we’re done here, Miss Vaughn.”
&
nbsp; “Oh, please, call me Darcey.”
Sissi inhaled deeply and looked like she couldn’t care less, her eyes stared into the distance. She started to wave at someone and Darcey reckoned it was the waiter.
She was wrong. Very wrong.
“Nathan, darling.”
At the sound of Nathan’s name, Darcey quickly turned her neck and saw Nathan Cromwell extraordinaire walked towards their table.
“Hello, mother. Is the interview over?”
Mother?!
“Don’t worry, Nathan, I was nice to her. You are fully aware it was just for formality’s sake. It was just an interview, you didn’t have to worry.”
Be Mine This Christmas: A Lovers in London Book Page 18
