Original Sin (66 page)

‘You do know we can’t be friends any more?’ said Jack gravely.

Tess looked up, alarmed. ‘Really? How come?’

‘Twenty–somethings are cool. Thirty–somethings are old,’ he laughed, grabbing her glass of red wine and taking a cheeky sip.

‘Hey! Put that down,’ she scolded.

Jack just laughed and gave her a hug. ‘Don’t worry, we’re going,’ he said. ‘Dad says it’s past my bedtime, but what does he know? Will we see you next week? Just thought I ought to remind you that Christmas is coming and in this country we give each other presents.’

‘Presents?’ she grinned. ‘I had no idea!’

As Jack returned to his father, Patty came over and kissed Tess on the cheek.

‘I’m off, honey. It’s been such a great night and Jemma’s little speech said it all.’

‘That I’m on the shelf?’ she smiled.

‘What a good friend you’ve been. Look at Kevin. He’d have lost Jack without you.’

Tess looked over to where the father and son were putting on their thick ski jackets.

‘Maybe, who knows?’ she shrugged. ‘I somehow doubt Kevin would have given up where Jack was concerned.’

‘But how many people can afford a paparazzo or a PI?’ Her eyes flicked around the table, to Jemma, Brooke, David. ‘You sort everyone’s life out, don’t you?’

‘Except my own,’ she replied with a twisted, almost self–pitying smile. ‘Anyway, what do you mean,
you’re off
?’ she asked. ‘At exactly the same time as Kevin and Jack?’

For a moment, Patty looked ruffled.

‘He’s a great guy,’ she blushed.

Tess clapped her hands together. ‘What’s going on?’ she whispered. ‘Tell me! You’re so secretive.’

Patty lowered her voice. ‘We had supper together the other night. Nothing happened.’

‘And what’s tonight. Dessert?’

Patty tried to look serious, but Tess could see she was bursting with joy.

‘He’s walking out to find a taxi with me. Although I’ve been invited back for coffee. Just coffee.’

‘Just coffee my arse.’

‘Tess, he’s a client,’ scolded Patty.

‘
Was
a client,’ corrected Tess. ‘I think the tables are about to turn and he’s going to be providing you with a very special service.’

Patty rolled her eyes with a smile. ‘Naughty girl. You’re not working for the London tabloids now.’

‘Well, the ice queen melteth,’ said Tess, rubbing her friend’s arm.

‘The ice queen needs some fun, you were right.’

Tess watched Patty cross the room where Kevin helped her with her coat. He put his big hand on her shoulder, the other behind Jake’s head as he guided them out of the door. Suddenly Tess cringed, remembering her own drunken attempts to kiss Kevin and the way he had looked at her with such awkwardness and embarrassment. Tonight, with Patty, his face was shining with hope and happiness. What a curious beast sexual chemistry was, she smiled to herself – something you could not predict or force. Who knew what made two people completely wrong for each other, while other people fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle? On the face of it, she would not have put Patty, the sophisticated career woman, and Kevin, the down–to–earth handyman, together in a month of Sundays. And yet she had a strong feeling that, together, they’d found their Happy Ever After.

‘What do you think of Phil?’ whispered a voice at her elbow. She turned to see Jemma, an anxious look on her face. Tess smiled and patted her hand.

‘He’s cute. I knew I should have gone to Tahoe instead of Hawaii.’

‘Hey, hands off!’ grinned Jemma. ‘Oh, talking of which, I’ve got a present for you.’

‘Fantastic,’ said Tess. ‘Is Brad Pitt going to jump out of my birthday cake?’

‘Not even Brooke can swing that one,’ said Jemma, taking a piece of paper from her jeans pocket. Tess unfolded it. It was the printout of a photograph. In the picture, a glamorous brunette was leaning forward kissing a balding, thirty–something man wearing a long black overcoat. Glancing around the table, Tess pulled Jemma into a corner.

‘Who are they?’ she asked, sensing that this was important.

‘The brunette is Alicia Wintrop.’

Tess frowned. ‘Why do I know that name?’

‘She’s David Billington’s ex–girlfriend.’

Tess glanced over at David, who was laughing and feeding tiramisu to a protesting Brooke.

‘Guess why the
Washington Spy
ran the Olivia Martin story?’ said Jemma. ‘Alicia Wintrop is sleeping with this guy,’ she said, tapping the picture of the balding man. ‘The very married but easily distracted Benjamin Foley, CEO of Spy media. Which owns the
Washington Spy
.’

‘Shit! How do you find these things out?’

‘Elementary, my dear Tess,’ said Jemma. ‘I wondered who would have the balls to sanction a story like that, when they knew that they would be pissing off someone as powerful as the Billingtons? Only the proprietor, which made me wonder why he’d do such a crazy thing. So I followed Foley for a couple of days. He’s spent at least two afternoons at Alicia’s house in the Village in the last week alone.’

‘So you have Alicia’s address?’

‘She’s within spitting distance of our apartment.’

Tess grabbed Jemma’s face and kissed her. ‘Jem, you’re a genius!’

‘Steady on,’ laughed Jemma, ‘I’m saving myself for Phil.’

Tess heard a polite cough to her left.

‘Miss Garrett?’ said the waiter, hovering apologetically. ‘There is someone outside for you. I’ve told him your party is almost finished, but he asks if you can step out to speak to him for a moment?’

Tess glanced in bemusement at Jemma.

‘It better not be Sean,’ whispered Jemma, waving a cake knife. ‘I could take his head off with this.’

Sean Asgill
, thought Tess with an involuntary flutter.
That man’s a bastard
. But why did she find herself hoping it was him? She walked through the noisy restaurant and out onto the street, where she crossed her arms against the winter cold.

‘Hey Tess.’

A familiar figure was standing on the sidewalk, his handsome face lit by the soft glow of a streetlamp.

‘Dom?’ She was astonished to see her ex–boyfriend.

‘Surprise,’ he said awkwardly, taking a nervous step towards her.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ she asked, stepping back towards the safety of the restaurant.

‘I was in the area.’

‘No you weren’t.’

Dom shrugged. ‘I just wanted to say Happy Birthday, Tess.’

‘Thanks. You’ve just disturbed my party.’ She shook her head. ‘How did you know I was here?’

‘I’m a journalist.’

She snorted. ‘Yeah, right.’

‘I tracked down your PA and begged her to tell me.’

Dom moved forward and touched her bare arm.

‘Tess, I’ve been travelling for ten hours just to see you.’

‘So? Do you want a fucking medal?’ she snapped, wondering vaguely why she was being quite so mean to him. Okay, so he’d been a snake, but the truth was she hadn’t thought of him for weeks. She’d moved on.

‘I just want five minutes of your time,’ said Dom, ‘to tell you how sorry I am. To say how stupid I’ve been and that I miss you so much I didn’t want to be anywhere in the world on your birthday except right here, with you.’

Tess glared at him. ‘Well, perhaps you should have thought about that before you married someone else.’

Dom looked down at the floor. ‘It didn’t work out with Tamara,’ he said. ‘You were right about that.’

She laughed bitterly. ‘Married and separated within six months? I don’t believe it! Jesus Dom, it must be some sort of record, especially for someone who claims he never wanted to get married.’

Dom exhaled, his breath puffing in the air.

‘I was blinded by it all, Tess. The money, the glamour, the red carpets, and the parties. I thought it would make me feel special, but when you don’t really belong there, it makes you feel worthless.’

Tess stopped and looked at him and for the first time she saw how tired and miserable he looked. She knew exactly what he was talking about, of course. She remembered the first time she’d stepped out of a town car to arrive at a glamorous New York party. The paparazzi had lifted their cameras, and the murmur of ‘who’s that?’ had rippled around the crowd.

‘It’s no one,’ someone had said while all the cameras were set down, not bothering to waste their film.
I am not ‘no one’
, she had thought fiercely, striding past them, but it was funny how the words stayed with you.

‘What do you want, Dom?’ she said, her voice almost lost in the noise from the restaurant.

‘I want another chance,’ he said, no trace of his usual blustering confidence in his words. ‘I love you, Tess. I always did. I always will. I should have married you but I was scared. I was scared of what it meant. Scared of waking up one morning to find out I’m an old man; scared of settling for a life I thought should have turned out better.’

His honesty and hopefulness began to melt a little of the ice around Tess’s heart. Gentle spots of rain began falling from the moonlit sky, sparkling as they hit his thick dark lashes. On the quiet cobbled SoHo street, framed by the shadows of million–dollar lofts and designer boutiques, he really did look like a movie star. Examining him, she noticed the beginnings of lines around his eyes, but even that suited him. Just a few months ago his looks had been pretty and frivolous; tonight he looked more serious, more grown up.

‘What do you say?’ he asked, moving closer. The darkness seemed to close around them until it was as if it was just him and her, alone together, back to what she knew.

‘No,’ she said simply.

Dom stepped back as if he had been slapped.

‘There’s someone else, isn’t there?’ he said, looking around her towards the door of the restaurant. ‘Is he in there?’

She kept deliberately silent, wanting to make him suffer.

‘Who is it?’ he asked, his wide mouth sneering. ‘Let me guess. Sean Asgill? I bet he comforted you after Nina’s party, didn’t he?’

She couldn’t help herself flush and he picked up on her guilt instantly.

‘I can’t say I’m surprised,’ he scoffed. ‘After all, you’re obsessed with the Asgills, aren’t you? You want their rich, glossy life because it’s the life you’ve always wanted for yourself.’

‘How dare you,’ she spat defensively.

He took a step closer towards her. At this distance he looked more wounded. ‘I didn’t think you’d be that gullible, to be seduced by him,’ he replied more evenly. ‘Asgill likes you because you helped him, that’s all. But let me tell you this, his friends won’t accept you, and his family won’t accept you, not as an equal. I don’t want you to feel like I’ve felt for the last three months. At first they think you’re funny, a novelty. Fresh blood for their group, perhaps, or some other motive. Tamara just used me to piss off her father, did you know that? She wanted to show him he couldn’t control her, so she married beneath her. And for a while that’s all fine, but then they tire of you. Then they close ranks and then you’re finished.’

Tess felt her lips dry. She didn’t like seeing Dom’s pain, but she hated the way he was saying she was the same as him, just some pawn for the upper classes.

‘I’m not
with
Sean,’ she said defiantly. ‘I’m not with anyone. I don’t need anybody, Dom. And especially not you.’

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded.

‘Everybody needs somebody, Tess,’ he said quietly, turning to leave. ‘I’m staying at the Mercer if you work that one out.’

She watched him walk down the street, disappearing into the shadows of SoHo.
What did I come here for?
she asked herself. The truth was she had come to New York to find the magic and romance that only this wonderful city could provide. So why did it feel like it was loneliest place in the world?

CHAPTER FIFTY–SIX

Alicia Wintrop lived in a red–brick town house on West Eleventh Street, so close to Tess’s own apartment that, if she stood on her roof terrace, they could probably have a conversation.

‘Can I help you?’ said Alicia, appearing in the open doorway. Even at nine thirty in the morning, she was perfectly dressed in West Village chic with her dark blue designer jeans, white, long–sleeve T–shirt, and vertiginous heels that looked more like bondage gear than casual footwear. Tess stood on the top step of the stoop, breathing the cold air deeply, desperately trying to shrug off the hangover from the night before’s drinking. ‘I’m Tess Garrett, a friend of Brooke Asgill and David Billington’s,’ said Tess, handing her an Asgill business card. ‘I wanted to talk to you about a private matter. Can I come in?’

Alicia frowned at the card then reluctantly beckoned her into the house.

‘Are you going to the wedding?’ asked Alicia, leading Tess into a sleek kitchen that smelt of flowers and fresh bread. Tess looked around enviously, doing a quick inventory of the ground floor. Painted in muted, elegant colours and dotted with impressive–looking modern art, the house had to be a ten–million–dollar property and yet Alicia Wintrop could be no more than thirty. How do these people do it? wondered Tess.