First We Take Manhattan

by Colette Caddle

  Max wasn’t sure he cared. He was too preoccupied thinking of poor Mum. He had an image in his head of the beautiful woman from the photo Krystie had given him, so devastated that she had walked into the waves.

  His phone beeped and he took it and saw there was a message from Sinéad asking, was there any news? Oh, yes, he thought, there’s news. She of course meant about Sheila. She was frustrated that nothing seemed to be happening, and Philip’s repeated response that these things take time only incensed her more. How would she react to all this? Max remembered his aunt’s words: he was to decide what should be passed on to the rest of the family and what was best left unsaid. ‘Thanks a lot, Bridie,’ he muttered. Should he just tell them about Bridie’s son and say nothing about the rest? Did Sinéad really need to know her father was a philanderer and her mother had committed suicide as a result? Probably not, but how could he carry on as normal? How could he propose a toast this evening at his father’s engagement dinner when he actually felt like punching him?

  Maybe he should confide in Krystie. He’d ask her to have lunch with him and see what she thought he should do. As he looked at his text messages he realised that she hadn’t responded to the last couple and hadn’t replied to his voice message, either. Concern gripped him. Had she had another attack? He called the studio and Sinéad answered.

  ‘Is Krystie okay?’ he said, not wasting time on hello.

  ‘She’s fine, why?’ Sinéad sounded surprised.

  Max sighed, relieved. ‘Can I talk to her, please?’

  There was some conversation and then Sinéad came back on. ‘She’s in the middle of something and says she’ll call you later.’

  ‘Okay. Thanks, Sinéad.’

  ‘See you tonight at the happy couple’s dinner,’ she replied and rang off.

  He’d heard the dry note in his sister’s voice. She wasn’t impressed at Dad’s hasty marriage. If only she knew how minor an issue that was. His thoughts returned to Krystie. He had obviously done something to upset her but he had no idea what. He’d hardly seen her these last few days. Perhaps that was it. Maybe she just felt neglected. He turned and headed back to the car. He would stop off at the apartment and change his shoes and socks, and then he would go to Blackrock and make Krystie come to lunch with him if he had to drag her out of there by the hair. There was no time for such petty squabbling. He needed her.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Krystie was carefully sewing some feathers into the band of a hat when Max walked in. She was so engrossed in her work that she hadn’t heard him come up the stairs and jumped when he spoke.

  ‘Why are you avoiding me?’

  ‘I’m not,’ she lied. She had thought she would tackle him once she saw that photo, but when her mother had handed her the magazine her heart had clenched at the sight of Natalie in his arms, and she felt too upset to confront him. She knew that she would fall apart and the only thing she had left was her dignity.

  The photo wasn’t explicit, not at all. It was worse than that. Natalie had her arms around his waist and her head was on his chest while Max had his arms loosely draped over her shoulders and his chin was resting on the top of her head. The intimacy of the embrace spoke volumes of the closeness of the couple and made Krystie sick with jealousy. And the more she looked at it – and she looked at it a lot – the more disappointed and betrayed she felt. How could he hold her, make love to her, talk the way he did and then hold another woman like this? She had been so sure that Max would never hurt her but she’d been wrong.

  ‘If you’re not avoiding me, then why aren’t you returning my calls or texts?’

  ‘Because I don’t want to talk to you,’ she snapped.

  He sighed. ‘Look, Krystie, I’ve obviously offended you in some way, though I haven’t a clue how, but, whatever it was, I apologise. Now please come to lunch with me. I’ve had a really lousy morning and I need to talk to you. I want your opinion.’

  She looked up at him hardly able to believe her ears. ‘Why don’t you call Natalie? I’m sure she’d be glad to give you her opinion,’ she spat at him.

  He shook his head in bewilderment. ‘Natalie? Why would I call her?’

  ‘Oh, please, don’t bullshit me.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘I haven’t a clue what this is about, Krystie, but I really don’t need it right now. If you have something to say, stop talking in riddles and say it.’

  ‘I don’t have to say a word,’ she said, pulling the magazine from her bag and tossing it on the table in front of him.

  He picked it up and looked at it, then dropped into Sinéad’s chair, closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. ‘Her name is Natalie, she was my girlfriend.’

  ‘Was? This was taken at Bridie’s funeral.’

  ‘Yeah, and you can bet the photographer was there at her request. Natalie loves getting her photo into the papers.’

  ‘He didn’t make you hold her like that!’

  Max rolled his eyes. ‘For crying out loud, Krystie. Bridie’s coffin had just been lowered into the grave and Natalie came and hugged me. I wasn’t exactly thinking about what way I was holding her.’

  ‘How many other of your women came to condole? From what I hear there have been plenty.’

  His lips twitched. ‘You’re very well informed.’

  ‘Hard not to be,’ she shot back. He thought this was funny? ‘You seem to live your life in the public eye.’

  ‘You didn’t strike me as the sort to waste time reading that kind of drivel.’

  ‘I don’t. My mother spotted it and thought I might be interested because you’re Sinéad’s brother,’ she told him in case he thought that she’d been raving about him to her family. She had been tempted a couple of times to tell her mother they were dating. She was very glad she hadn’t: Ma would have been furious when she saw the photo.

  ‘I like women. I’ve dated some beautiful ones, and the newspapers like to take photos of beautiful women.’ He shrugged. ‘Natalie was the last and she came to Bridie’s funeral. I thought she came along to show some support for old times’ sake but perhaps it was because she wanted a photo opportunity.’

  ‘When did you break up?’

  He held her gaze. ‘The week before Christmas.’

  ‘You were seeing the two of us at the same time?’ She felt tears fill her eyes and she swallowed them back. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  ‘No, Krystie. Natalie hasn’t been in the country since we met and as soon as she returned I finished with her.’

  ‘When?’ she demanded, still not sure if she could believe him.

  ‘The night before you had the seizure and, for the record, I didn’t sleep with her. I saw her for less than thirty minutes that night.’

  ‘I didn’t ask,’ she muttered.

  His face was open, his eyes hadn’t left hers. ‘No but I’d prefer if everything was out in the open. I don’t want you hearing stories about me and wondering.’

  She studied him from under her lashes. ‘How long were you together?’

  He considered the question. ‘About six months, I think. It wasn’t serious.’

  Krystie scowled at him. ‘Huh, did she know that?’

  He shook his head, looking totally frustrated. ‘Natalie was dating me because she liked being seen moving in the right circles, because getting into the papers kept her in the public eye and that was good for business.’

  ‘And why did you date her?’ He raised his eyebrows, his lips twitching, and she put up her hand. She didn’t want to think of him having sex with that woman. ‘Forget it. I don’t want to know. Did you live with her?’

  ‘No way!’ He practically shuddered at the thought.

  ‘So you didn’t love her?’

  ‘No, Krystie, I didn’t and don’t love her.’

  ‘And now you’ve got me; I’m the latest on your list,’ she said, feeling like a fool.

  He reached out and grabbed her chair, rolling it closer so that their f
aces were only inches apart. ‘You are on no list, Krystie. You walked into my life and I felt as if I’d been hit by a freight train. When you’re around I can’t concentrate on anything but you, and when you’re not all I seem to do is think about you.’

  She stared at him, wondering whether she could trust him, could believe him. ‘Please don’t mess with me, Max. I’m not going out with you because I want my photo in the paper.’

  His eyes softened as they stared into hers. ‘I’m not messing, Krystie. I’ve never been more serious. I’ve never met any woman I wanted to live with, Krystie, until I met you. I never met anyone who I wanted to share my life with.’ He kissed her gently and then pulled her even closer, burying his hands in her hair and deepening the kiss.

  She felt herself melt into him. ‘Oh, Max.’

  He pulled back and looked into her eyes. ‘I love you, Krystie.’

  He caressed her bottom lip with his thumb and she kissed it and smiled into his clear blue eyes, which told her he meant every word. ‘I love you, too,’ she said and, feeling as if she might burst with happiness, she pulled his mouth back to hers.

  ‘Oh, God, couldn’t you take the day off?’ he murmured.

  ‘No she cannot!’

  They sprang apart and Krystie smirked when she saw Sinéad standing in the doorway, arms crossed, a wide grin on her face.

  Max sat back in the chair, his hand on Krystie’s thigh, and gave his sister a lazy smile. ‘Hey, sis. I just dropped in to take Krystie to lunch.’

  ‘From where I’m standing it looked as if she was lunch,’ Sinéad laughed.

  Krystie felt her cheeks flush and grinned as she stood up. ‘I won’t be long,’ she promised.

  ‘She will,’ Max said and took Krystie’s hand.

  ‘Take the afternoon off,’ Sinéad told Krystie. ‘You’ve earned a half-day.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ Krystie asked. She was on top of her work and in fact, as Sinéad was in such good form, had planned to talk to her about her success in social networking.

  ‘She’s sure,’ Max said, and dragged her out of the door.

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ Krystie said hours later when Max had told her about his visit to the solicitor. They had gone straight to his apartment from work and made love all afternoon, and now she lay in his arms, her head on his chest, his hand tight in hers as he talked. When he told her about his mother she kissed his tears away, conscious that she was crying too.

  ‘I am so sorry,’ she said when he finally lapsed into silence. ‘What are you going to do?’

  He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. ‘No idea, Krystie. I don’t even know how I’m going to get through this evening.’

  ‘Oh, my God, the engagement dinner.’ She looked at him horrified. ‘I completely forgot. Do you want me to phone your dad and tell him you’re sick?’

  He looked at her with a grim smile. ‘After the way Sinéad found us earlier I don’t think that would be credible, do you?’

  She sighed. ‘I suppose not. You could always get plastered.’

  ‘Tempting but only God knows what I’d say then.’

  ‘I wish I could do something to help,’ Krystie said feeling frustrated.

  ‘You can take my mind off it,’ he said, pulling her against him.

  ‘Gladly,’ she said, winding her arms around his neck.

  It was nearly two hours later that the cab dropped her home, leaving her only an hour to get ready before Max arrived to take her to the dinner. She’d offered to get a taxi and meet him at the restaurant but he’d said no.

  ‘Go in there without you beside me? No way.’

  She felt sorry for him but was also warmed by his words. They had travelled light years in their relationship in one afternoon and, though they hadn’t talked marriage, Krystie was confident it was just a matter of time – they were in love. Everything she’d felt for Jacob seemed to pale by comparison. She had never felt this close to anyone before.

  She’d already showered with Max and so she’d only to change and put on some makeup. She pulled out a red wool minidress that she would wear with her knee-high boots, the houndstooth coat and the gorgeous red felt cloche that Sinéad had made her for Christmas.

  Krystie had just signed on to her laptop and was sitting staring at her messages when Sharon arrived home looking exhausted. ‘Hey, you’re very late. I was getting worried.’

  ‘Stacy never showed up, so I had to look after her clients too.’

  While Sharon sat down and kicked off her boots Krystie went out to fetch her a glass of wine.

  ‘Aren’t you having one?’

  ‘No, Max will be here any minute.’

  ‘Ah, yes, I forgot about the engagement dinner. Isn’t it wonderful that they found romance again?’ Sharon sighed.

  ‘Yeah, great,’ Krystie said, although she found it hard to feel happy for Kieran after what Max had told her.

  ‘How was your day?’ Sharon sat back, wine in hand, tucking her feet underneath her.

  ‘Pretty good.’ Krystie smiled and realised that it would be easier to carry tonight off if she thought about the afternoon in Max’s arms rather than the terrible letter his aunt had left him. She wondered about that. Yes, Bridie had to tell them about her son but why tell them about the rest? Why now? She wasn’t sure she bought the line about her going to her maker with a clear conscience.

  ‘You look like the cat that got the cream. You’ve obviously made it up with Max.’ Sharon smiled.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, thinking her face would split if she kept grinning like an idiot. ‘Everything is fine, more than fine. He loves me, Sharon, really loves me.’

  Sharon’s eyes widened. ‘Has he proposed?’

  Krystie threw back her head and laughed. ‘Of course not. Jeez, give us a chance! But let’s say that we’re as close as we could be and –’ she looked back down at her laptop – ‘my day just got even better. Our lovely actress not only got in touch but she sent out a tweet with the photo saying how Sinéad’s hat was one of her all-time favourites.’

  Sharon’s eyes widened. ‘Wow, that’s fantastic!’

  ‘And she put it on her Facebook page, too.’

  ‘Sinéad will be delighted.’

  ‘You know, I don’t think I’ll tell her.’

  Sharon frowned. ‘But why not?’

  ‘It still may lead to nothing, so why get her hopes up?’

  ‘Yeah, you’re right.’

  Krystie went over to the window and peeked through the curtains to see if there was any sign of Max. ‘Oh, Sharon,’ she said, coming back to join her on the sofa, ‘I never thought I could be this happy.’

  Sharon put a hand on her arm, her eyes concerned. ‘Don’t go rushing into things the way I did, Krystie.’

  ‘I’m not rushing into anything,’ Krystie protested.

  ‘Good. I don’t want you to be with Max just because he makes you feel safe. He should make you feel much more than that.’

  ‘He does,’ Krystie insisted. A horn honked outside and she gave Sharon a quick hug and stood up. ‘That will be him now. I’d better run.’

  Sharon caught her hand and looked into her eyes. ‘I’m happy for you, really. I just don’t want any other man hurting you the way that Jacob did.’

  Krystie gave her an affectionate smile. ‘I know that, Shaz. Thank you.’

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Sinéad was on edge. She had been for a while. The overwhelming silence from Philip bothered her and she felt uneasy around Dad. She wasn’t quite sure why, but she felt angry with him. She looked into her eyes in the mirror as she prepared for the engagement dinner, and suddenly she knew exactly what was wrong. The reminiscing over old times at the funeral had brought back memories from childhood long forgotten. The circumstances of her mother’s death particularly went around and around in her head making her feel uncomfortable and guilty. She escaped from that guilt by thinking of the role her father had played in it and how Bridie had protected him. A
t the funeral, when she’d seen all the love and support for him, the way he seemed to accept it as his due, that was when she had started to feel angry. She had been just a child, and so her mistakes could to some extent be excused, yet she still carried the burden. Dad seemed to suffer no such doubts or remorse. She loved him and she was glad that Beth had come into his life, but she found it hard to shirk these negative feelings.

  Dylan walked in from the en suite in a towel and came to stand behind her. ‘What’s wrong, Sinéad?’ he said, kissing her neck.

  She put a hand up to caress his cheek. ‘I just don’t feel like going out tonight.’

  ‘Why?’ he asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

  She rested her head back against his shoulder. ‘I’m just not in the mood for playing the adoring daughter.’

  ‘Playing? I’ve always thought you worshipped your dad.’

  ‘I do, but it doesn’t mean I don’t see his faults.’

  Dylan frowned. ‘You’ve never talked like this before. Are you upset that he’s getting married? I know it’s sudden but Beth seems great and he’s been alone a long time. You can’t begrudge him some company.’

  ‘I don’t. I just don’t like the way he’s painted himself as a victim, as a sad, tragic figure.’

  ‘Has he?’ Dylan seemed genuinely mystified. ‘There’s no doubt that he’s been a mess since Sheila disappeared.’

  ‘Yes, a mess but a selfish one. He’s hardly bothered with Max or me. He just went into his shell and stayed there until a woman came along to look after him. He’s always had someone to look after him.’

  ‘You sound so bitter.’

  She smiled but her heart felt so heavy. ‘I do, don’t I?’