A Gift to Remember (28 page)

‘Whoa, so I wasn’t far wrong – this dude really is a real-life Jason Bourne,’ Joshua said, replenishing candy canes in the countertop favours jar. ‘I can see why
you’re smitten,’ he teased, and despite herself Darcy flushed.

Was she smitten?
she asked herself, trying to get her thoughts in order as she went about restocking shelves.
Was she attracted to Aidan?

Sure, she had immediately thought him handsome on first seeing him at the hospital. And of course she couldn’t help but feel a huge affinity with someone who was evidently a book geek like
herself; never mind his nice eyes, lovely smile, lilting accent as well as his obvious affection for Bailey. To say nothing of his generosity in trying to pay her back for her help by insisting she
take those ballet tickets.

And then there was the matter of his appearances in her dreams of late . . .

Still, what she thought – or indeed felt – didn’t matter, did it? For one thing, Aidan was attached to a beautiful woman called Melanie – or at least he had been until
Darcy had thrown a spanner in the works.

And for another, as far as he was concerned, Darcy was just the girl who’d run him over in the street, and who was trying to make amends by dog-sitting, and helping him over a few
administrative hurdles.

That was all.

‘So would you believe that I get all the way over here, only to spend less than forty-eight hours with those assholes, who then tell me they are not going to need me for
as long as they thought? I’ve barely got started with my jet-lag when I’ll be getting another plane home!’

I’d answered the phone and barely got out a hello before she launched into her latest diatribe. My lovely sister could always be depended upon for a rant. Smiling, I looked at my watch and
calculated the time. ‘It’s past one a.m. there,’ I said, as if Ciara was not aware of what time it was in Hong Kong.

‘Right. And your point is, caller?’ she replied dryly.

‘So when do you think you will be home?’ I knew that she wouldn’t be going anywhere right at that moment, but in Ciara’s eyes, putting herself on a plane tomorrow or
three days from now was all relative.

‘Er, I’m not sure. I just know it won’t be next week like I originally thought. I know this probably throws a monkey wrench in your life, but do you mind if I come to you a bit
earlier? I know what your schedule is like.’

‘Of course not. That would be great. I mean, you already know it’s a crazy week for me workwise, and we have a lot of stuff going on just now, but as soon as I put a couple of other
things to bed, so to speak, I’m all yours.’ I welcomed her suggestion, really. It would be nice to have her around; I didn’t see her nearly enough. ‘Mel will be thrilled
too; she’s dying to see you.’

‘Same here, and I’m glad everything seems back to normal for you guys now.’ There was a brief pause. ‘Don’t take that for granted though.’

I frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean you and your workaholic ways. I hope you’ve learned from past mistakes by now. Part of the whole problem was you taking so much on – often a lot more than you should.
You aren’t Superman you know, much as you refuse to believe it.’

I smiled patiently. My beloved sister didn’t really understand how things in my world worked. No one I knew did really; they just assumed it was all fun and games, parties and launches and
rubbing shoulders with celebrities . . . Sure, it could be like that sometimes, and most of the time it was great.

Except when the pressure was on, like now.

‘Don’t worry, sis, today is an easy day; my blue tights and cape are at the dry cleaners.’

‘Aidan, are you listening to me? I’m serious. If you keep working at this pace, I can assure you that it’s going to catch up with you – and when it does, you’re
going to be knocked to the ground. Not literally, of course, but this type of constant stress can’t be good. For you or for Mel.’

‘Well then, what would you have me do?’ I retorted, my hackles rising at the insinuation that I was neglecting Mel. ‘Throw in the towel and just walk away? That wouldn’t
be any good to anyone, would it? Anyway, it’s not like that. I do love my job, but like everything there are good days and bad days. You more than anyone should know that.’

‘I sure as hell do.’ Then Ciara’s voice softened on the other end of the line. ‘I just wish you’d take some time off now and again. Look, maybe when I get there I
can help somehow? If you’d let me, that is. I know what a control freak you are.’

I smiled at the idea. My sister was one hell of a tornado when she wanted to be, but I’m not sure even she could whip up what I needed in time.

‘It’ll be fine. I’ll get there eventually. I always do.’

‘Well, like I said, try not to work too hard. You deserve to have a life of your own sometimes, even though I’m not sure you actually realise that.’

She told me again that she would keep me posted on when she would be arriving and I wished her goodbye. When I hung up, I had to admit I was glad she had called – though still a little
annoyed at the suggestion that I was jeopardising my relationship with Mel, when she had to know that it would be the very
last
thing I’d do.

I placed the phone on the side table and thought again about Ciara’s words. Maybe my sister was right, maybe I had been taking too much on lately, and that’s the reason I was feeling
a little dejected at the moment.

I resolved to make sure she and I spent some quality time together while she was back in the city, maybe try and arrange a night out or something, just the two of us. Unlike the previous visit,
where something last-minute had come up and I’d barely had enough time to see her for a cup of coffee.

Trying to shake the gloom, I picked up an advance reading copy of a book by an author named Oliver Martin that an editor friend gave me a few days ago.

I wasn’t sure if the storyline sounded like my thing but by all accounts the author was very popular and I needed something to distract me in any case.

I was about to start reading when the phone piped up again. It must be Ciara, I thought, calling back to say something she had forgotten the first time around (or to tell me off again).

But this time it was a male voice on the other end. ‘Aidan? Is that you?’

It was Nate Cleaver-Parks.

I sat up straight in the chair, feeling a surge of energy rush through me. Please let him be calling with good news.

‘What’s up, Nate? I was wondering if you had forgotten about me.’

‘Sorry. Got tied up with that whole LA Tiffany Bennington mess. Her parents bailed her out, you know, but they also toted her back to New York. And because she’s bored, she called
me.’ I was about to ask if he had spoken to the Benningtons about my query, but before I formed the question, Nate answered it for me. ‘And no, just in case you’re wondering,
it’s not them that I’m calling you about. I actually have someone else for you to talk to. And well, OK, you will be talking to his assistant, but she’ll be able to speak on her
boss’s behalf, OK?’

‘Fantastic. OK, who do I have to call?’

There was a pause. ‘Do you have a pen?’

‘Not with me. Hold on.’ I raced up to the office where I had left the list, grabbed the key, unlocked the drawer and extracted the folder and a pen. Then I picked up the extension
handset, ready for business. ‘OK, shoot.’

‘All right. I want you to talk to Stephanie Everly.’

I wrote down the name and as Nate gave me some background on the woman and her employer, I hoped that this new avenue would actually lead somewhere and wouldn’t be as fruitless and
exhausting as everything that I had already tried.

‘Thanks, Nate. I owe you one,’ I said, breathing an inward sigh of relief. Here’s hoping that this Stephanie Everly, whoever she is, may be able to help me.

‘Not a problem. Let me know how it goes, OK?’ he said, wrapping up the call. ‘Interested to know if you hit the jackpot and I hope it all pans out.’

Let us read, and let us dance; these two amusements will never do any harm to the world
.
Voltaire

‘Whoever will watch Bailey?’ Grace fretted later that evening, pacing in front of her blinking pink and white Christmas tree, as Darcy waited for her neighbour to
get ready for their impromptu night out.

‘Ricardo’s going to come check on him during his break,’ she replied, not exactly proud of how she’d lured Luigi’s waiter in and taken advantage of his interest in
her with the promise of a home-cooked meal sometime. She was grateful that Luigi hadn’t yet made a stink about her house-guest overstaying his welcome – in fact, both her landlord and
Ricardo had taken a bit of a shine to the Husky. She’d had little option but to curry favour with Ricardo if she and Bailey’s fall-back dog-sitter were to take advantage of
Aidan’s tickets. ‘Anyway, Grace, why all the worrying? I thought you’d be happy. It’s the ballet!’

The older woman softened. ‘I know, dear, and it’s awfully sweet of your friend but I have to confess, it’s been years since I’ve gone out on the town. I’m not . . .
I’m not sure I’m ready.’

‘Nonsense,’ Darcy answered, urging Grace into her bedroom so they could choose an outfit for the 7.30 performance of
The Nutcracker
at the Koch Theater. ‘You eat out
at Luigi’s almost every night, don’t you?’

‘That’s different, dear. The place is a dive. But the Koch is legendary in ballet circles. This is a big deal.’

‘It is?’ Darcy asked, glancing down at herself and her boring black trousers and purple merino sweater combo. Now she was starting to wonder if
she
was up to it.

‘Why yes, dear. I told you, I danced there myself, many, many moons ago.’

Darcy strengthened her resolve. ‘Then all the more reason to go back tonight and enjoy it. Listen, I think I might do a quick change myself, but I’ll come back over to get you in ten
minutes, OK? We both need to be ready to leave soon if we’re going to make the performance on time.’

Darcy dashed across the hall, digging out her vintage wrap dress, about the only vaguely glamorous item of clothing she had in her closet. Though what she wouldn’t give to have those Jimmy
Choos now! she groaned, giving Bailey a murderous look. The Husky remained sprawled lazily on her bed as though he didn’t have a care in the world.

Well, she did have a cute pair of courtesan-style heels that just might work, Darcy thought, rummaging deeper into the closet.

Once dressed, she stood in front of the full-length mirror on the wardrobe door and looked appraisingly at her reflection, frowning at the sight of her habitual ponytail and face devoid of
make-up.

She was lucky in that her skin was in good condition and mostly blemish-free, but Joshua was right; she really did need to try harder. Perhaps then a guy of Aidan Harris’ calibre might be
interested enough to ask her out.

The feminist in her immediately berated herself for thinking that way, deciding that any man concerned primarily with appearances was hardly worth her time, but Darcy had to admit that she
wasn’t exactly making the most of her femininity. She should tame her wayward hair for a start. It was actually quite soft and shiny, though she rarely wore it down. And everyone always
commented on her eyes, which were a curious shade of green that looked especially vivid when accentuated with mascara or eye-liner.

Rummaging around in a drawer, she located her old cosmetics bag and proceeded to apply foundation, eye make-up and some faint blusher. Then, untying her hair, she shook it out and let it fall
casually around her face, surprised at how long it had grown. The ends now reached well past her shoulders. The longer style definitely gave her a somewhat more glamorous – and yes,
definitely sexier – look, she decided approvingly.

Smearing on some bright red lipstick to finish the job, she re-examined her appearance, feeling a little taken aback by the transformation and moreover how good it felt. Maybe she really should
take the time to glam up a little more now and again.

She was just slipping on a faintly vintage-style grey cape she remembered Katherine buying her in Macy’s last year as she knocked on Grace’s door. Her neighbour appeared in the
doorway, a stunner in a silver gown that hit her mid-calf and showed off her high, elegant neck and still-strong arms. A black shawl was draped across her shoulders and fell to the middle of her
back, accenting the diamond pendant earrings that glittered on either side of her nervous smile. Now
this
was a lady who really knew how to glam up.

‘Wow, Grace, you look beautiful!’ Darcy gasped, amazed at how, since she’d got to know the older woman better, it was as if the years had simply fallen away. She’d always
viewed Mrs Henley as a grumpy old lady, but since Bailey had come into their lives a few days before, she’d begun to understand that Grace was simply a lonely middle-aged woman.

Not too unlike herself perhaps, Darcy admitted; though scratch the middle-aged bit.

Since her conversation with Joshua earlier she had been thinking about that, wondering if this was the real reason she’d been so eager to throw herself into helping Aidan Harris.

Was she lonely?

Yes, she was surrounded by lovely people who cared about her, like Katherine, Joshua and Ashley from the bookstore, and indeed she had stayed in touch with many of Chaucer’s staff over the
years. But ultimately, and while it might sound a little pathetic to some, her beloved books had always been her closest friends and confidantes.

It had been that way since childhood. Sure, she’d always talked about doing things; travelling more and experiencing adventures in faraway places, but as she routinely did so vicariously
through the pages of a book, the ambition never seemed to go any further than that – talk.

Like most New Yorkers, Darcy adored the city. It had so much to offer that one truly didn’t need to leave it at all, but now she wondered if she clung to the place, almost like a
life-raft, safe in the knowledge that it was her constant – and that no more bad things could happen as long as she remained cocooned in the city’s embrace.