Santa Baby (16 page)

Sean was silent on the drive over to the apartment. Any minute now, he’ll say something, Tiffany told herself,
or
I should say something, ask him why he’s being so standoffish. To pretend last night hadn’t happened seemed ridiculous. But he didn’t say anything and her courage failed her.

The luxury Hyde Park flat was stunning. In contrast to the sleek minimalism of the riverside flat, this one was like a baroque palace, thick carpets, heavy silk curtains, impressive fireplaces in the rooms, gilt-framed mirrors and pictures, chandeliers, a marble bathroom. But Tiffany couldn’t focus on any of it, because she was still caught up in wondering what the hell was going on with Sean. Only when he had briefed her on the security features, handed over the keys and was about to leave did he finally mention what had happened. ‘About last night …’ He looked awkward, standing by the front door, not making eye contact.

She stared right at him, a defiant look on her face, arms folded across her chest. She was damned if she was going to say anything.

‘I shouldn’t have allowed it to happen.’

From the way he was talking it sounded as if she had jumped on him! Whereas she was pretty sure it had been entirely mutual. For a moment Tiffany was too shocked to speak and then she burst out with, ‘You make it sound like I forced you to kiss me!’ She glared at him. ‘You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself.’

He shook his head. ‘Of course I wanted to kiss you, you’re a beautiful woman, but I shouldn’t have. It was unprofessional. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you after the shock you’d had and …’ he hesitated. ‘I don’t have room in my life for relationships at the moment.’

Oh, God! Tiffany sensed that she was going to cry. This was awful, toe-curlingly embarrassing. He had
kissed
her, held her, all night, but now he was rejecting her.

Somehow she managed to hold it together. She shrugged. ‘Nor do I. And thanks for doing your job so well last night.’ She was aware that her voice was wobbling slightly. If he didn’t get the hell out of the flat, she would lose it altogether. She was deeply hurt, but she had some pride. She wasn’t going to let him see.

‘It was really no big deal. And I’m not some damsel in distress, you didn’t take advantage of me.’

He still could barely look her in the eye, and suddenly Tiffany wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt her. ‘Though, to be honest, I probably was a bit drunk.’

Hah! He didn’t like
that
comment. Super-serious, I’m-just-not-that-into-you Sean couldn’t stop himself from flinching.

She shook back her hair. ‘I’m cool with everything. So you can go off to your event now. You’ve done your duty.’ She gave a mock salute, ‘Thanks again, Agent Murphy. Over and out.’

He looked at her as if he wanted to say something else but Tiffany had heard enough. ‘I’m fine.’ Her code for, Go right now.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope, which he handed to her. It felt bulky. What now?

‘This is from Angel. That surprise I told you about … I’d better go. Any problems, anything at all, please call me.’

Tiffany waited until she was absolutely certain he must have left the building, then she shut herself in the bathroom, sat down on the expensive marble floor, leaned against the Victorian-style bath and burst into tears.

SOME TIME LATER
Tiffany opened the envelope and discovered it contained a thousand pounds in crisp new twenties and a note, which Angel had clearly dictated to Sean.
So sorry about what happened, Tiffany. Please accept this money and buy yourself some new clothes. Angel x
.

A thousand pounds to spend on clothes! It was unreal. And if Sean hadn’t given her the monumental brush-off, Tiffany knew she would have been leaping around the room in delight. As it was, she couldn’t help feeling awkward, as if she was somehow being paid off. She stuffed the money into the envelope. She would buy herself some cheap clothes and give Angel the money back.

Next, she had a phone call to make to her dad. He was stunned and upset to hear about the break-in and wanted her to move back home right away. But Tiffany managed to calm him down and reassure him that she was OK. She wasn’t, but no way did she want to worry him.

‘I promise I’ll be fine, Dad, please. They didn’t take anything of any real value. I was wearing Gran’s ring.’ She didn’t go into the full details of how the flat was trashed nor could she bear to tell him about the loss of the Tiffany bracelet.

But her dad brought it up. ‘What about your charm bracelet?’

She swallowed her tears. ‘That’s gone, I’m afraid.’

‘Oh, well, we’ll all start saving for another one. And tell that Sean to look after you or he’ll have me to answer to,’ her dad tried to joke, but Tiffany could tell how shaken he was.

‘This apartment has got great security, honestly. CCTV and everything. I feel totally safe.’ She skirted round saying Sean’s name.

She then had to call Kara’s dad, and tell him about the chance she had to work with Angel. He was typically sweet about it. ‘Never quite saw you as a receptionist, Tiff.’

There was no point in her arguing with that, and they parted on good terms.

She quickly repaired her make-up and headed out of the flat. Within minutes she found herself walking along Old Bond Street, an incredibly posh street with many high-end designer stores. Round the corner from her flat in Archway was a pound shop, a Chinese takeaway, a fried chicken takeaway and a pawnbroker’s. Here there was Yves Saint Laurent, Chanel, Dolce & Gabbana, Prada and Tiffany & Co. She stopped outside the iconic jeweller’s, which always made her think of her dad as he had named her after his favourite film,
Breakfast At Tiffany’s
. She wondered if she should go and buy a replacement charm bracelet with the money from Angel, but much of her joy in her original bracelet had been in the way it had been created over time.

Her mobile rang. It was Angel. For a second Tiffany hesitated, almost not wanting to speak to her. She felt too raw after what had happened with Sean, but then she took the call. It wasn’t Angel’s fault that she had got herself in a mess.

‘I hope you’re busy shopping!’ Angel said. ‘And make sure you get a couple of outfits you’d be happy to be filmed in.’

‘Sure, will do.’

‘Are you OK after last night?’

For a mad moment Tiffany thought that Angel must know about Sean, then she realised that she was talking about the burglary.

‘Fine, thanks. And thanks for letting me stay in the flat. It’s amazing.’ She knew she sounded subdued. Angel must think she was very ungrateful.

‘It’s a bit OTT in its design,’ Angel admitted. ‘We haven’t had chance to decorate yet. Just treat it like your home, put up your pictures, invite over whoever you want. I’d better go. I’ll see you tomorrow … I’ll email you the directions.’ Then she added, as if she had sensed Tiffany’s unease about the money, ‘And
please
spend the money I gave you, I want you to have it. And if you feel funny about it, count as a down payment for your work on the show. I mean that.’

Angel was perceptive, Tiffany had to give her that, she thought as she continued along Old Bond Street. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to buy a couple of outfits, for work. She dialled up Kara’s number, hoping she would have returned from her weekend away. ‘Hey, are you free to meet me in town? I’ve got loads to tell you.’

‘OMG! I don’t believe it!’ Kara exclaimed. The two girls were having lattes upstairs in Caffé Nero on Regent Street. ‘I go away for one weekend and your whole life changes! You get offered a brilliant job, have the cash to buy yourself a brand-new wardrobe, move into a luxury pad, meet a gorgeous man and—

‘Get burgled, don’t forget that,’ Tiffany interrupted dryly. ‘And get dumped by the man before I’ve even gone out with him. That must be some kind of record.’

‘To paraphrase Ronan Keating, “Life’s a bit of roller-coaster and you’ve just got to ride it”.’

Tiffany stuck her tongue out then said, ‘I would be embarrassed to quote a Ronan Keating lyric.’

Kara shrugged. ‘It seems to fit the situation. So why do you think Sean went all funny? I thought he was dead keen on you when I saw him the other week. All those looks he gave you, that sexy foot rub, the kisses.’

‘And all those flirty texts he sent me … it doesn’t make sense.’ Tiffany dipped her croissant into her latte, ‘He said he didn’t have time for a relationship, which I’m not sure I believe. I guess he didn’t like me that much, or else he’s already got a girlfriend.’

Kara gave her a sympathetic look. ‘I think you’ve got to put the bad shit behind you and focus on the good, like the job with Angel.’

Tiffany knew her friend was right, but it was hard not to brood about Sean. She couldn’t help feeling hurt. She had
really
liked him and she had thought he liked her. She wasn’t usually wrong about men, but it appeared she had got Sean entirely wrong.

‘OK,’ she replied, sounding much more optimistic than she felt. ‘Let’s write down what clothes I should get for the show.’

‘Yay!’ Kara said gleefully, and the two girls spent a very contented twenty minutes going through some ideas.

Because Angel’s show was all about styling ordinary women, on fairly low budgets, Tiffany thought it was only right that she should buy her clothes from the high street. So they hit Topshop, French Connection, River Island and Miss Selfridge, then Office for shoes. Tiffany bought a tea dress, prom dress, a playsuit, a maxi-dress, a pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, a couple of cardigans, a black blazer, scarves and jewellery. She shuddered when she thought about someone rifling through her
things
and bought a whole new selection of underwear from M&S. She was sorely tempted to hit the designer stores but remembered her brief to keep it high street. By the end of her spree she still had £300 left and decided she would buy some clothes for Lily-Rose and baby things for Marie.

By four o’clock they were all shopped out and made their way back to Tiffany’s Hyde Park apartment. ‘Bit different from the Archway Road,’ Kara remarked as they walked along the über-upmarket Mount Street. ‘Isn’t that Scott’s over there?’

She pointed over to the opulent seafood restaurant, a favourite celebrity hang-out.

‘Yes to both. And wait until you see the apartment,’ Tiffany replied.

Kara’s reaction did not disappoint. Her friend exclaimed over everything, running excitedly from room to room. ‘This is awesome!’ she yelled from the bathroom. ‘I love those Victorian baths! And you’ve got gold taps and a marble floor!’ She grew even more excited when she discovered the four-poster bed in the main bedroom. She hurled herself on to it and lay back and declared, ‘I’ve always wanted a bed like this! It’s like a princess bed!’ And Tiffany realised this was what her own reaction should have been like, if only the burglary and weird thing with Sean hadn’t happened.

‘You and Harley are welcome to stay any time. In fact, why don’t you stay over tonight? We could get a takeaway.’ Tiffany was not looking forward to a night on her own. ‘And you can have the four-poster.’

‘That would be so fab! It will be like having a mini-break! I’m going to call Harley right now.’

While Kara went off to make her call, Tiffany padded around the bedroom sorting out her new clothes. She wondered if anything from her flat could be salvaged. Angel had told her to put up her own pictures, but all
of
them had been ruined in the break-in. She sat down on the bed and for a moment felt exhausted all over again and unable to summon any excitement for the stunning job offer and the beautiful apartment.

Kara wandered back in. ‘He’s going to come over around seven. And I think we should nip out to an offie – if they have such things in this posh area – to buy a bottle of champagne to celebrate your new life with.’

‘I quite liked my old life,’ Tiffany said gloomily. ‘And I bet there won’t be an offie.’

‘Oh, babes!’ Kara declared, sinking down on the bed next to Tiffany and putting an arm round her. ‘You need to cheer up! In your old life, you didn’t have a proper job – I know how much you hated working at the gym, so don’t pretend. And no offence but your studio flat was horrible. It was freezing in winter and boiling in summer, and the walls were so thin you could hear your next-door neighbours having sex.
And
you were stuck in a rut with Billy. However upset you are about what happened with Sean, at least you’re out of that rut. Come on!’

Tiffany managed a smile. Kara was being so sweet, trying to cheer her up, and there wasn’t an ounce of jealousy in her friend. She was genuinely thrilled for Tiff.

‘You’re right, that flat was shit, I hated it! And the stylist job is great. And I needed to move on from Billy, and Sean obviously has issues.’

‘See? All positive. Now come on, girlfriend, let’s go and find some champagne or cava, depending on how much money I’ve got. Cava probably.’

‘I’m getting this.’ Tiffany reached for her bag. ‘I’ve still got some money left over, and we are having champagne!’

*

‘Oh, look,’ Kara commented as they reached the entrance hall. ‘You’ve got your own personal mail boxes … how cute! Why don’t you see if you’ve got anything?’

‘I doubt it,’ Tiffany replied dubiously, but she found what looked like the right key on the key-ring and slotted it into the lock of the steel box with the number 5 on it. To her surprise there was an envelope inside addressed to her. She ripped it open to discover a key and a note. The note was from Sean. In spite of all her good intentions she still experienced a fluttery feeling when she saw it was from him, but as it was a completely businesslike letter, that feeling soon vanished.
Hi Tiffany, hope you are settling into your new place. Here’s the key to your old flat. Best wishes, Sean
.

‘Best wishes my arse!’ Tiffany muttered, showing the letter to Kara. ‘Could the man be any more uptight?’

‘What’s he supposed to say? Forget about him, Tiff. Come on, let’s find that offie.’

Tiffany took a deep breath and inserted the key into the brand-new lock of the brand-new door of her studio flat. She was feeling out of breath and slightly panicky as she pushed the door open, dreading that the scene of devastation would upset her all over again. But to her surprise the flat had been completely cleaned up. The broken glass was swept away; the clothes were folded up neatly on the sofa in two piles, one for the items that were still intact, the other for the ones that had been ripped. The pictures had been stacked on the coffee table, along with the photo albums, and the broken TV and laptop had been removed. Tiffany wondered who had been responsible. It was not likely to have been the police. Could it have been Angel?