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Authors: Melissa Hill

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

Something From Tiffany’s (12 page)

BOOK: Something From Tiffany’s
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‘No, but thank you. You’re so kind. Um . . . you have my number, don’t you?’ she added, flustered. ‘Text me your address, and I’ll send those cookies over as soon as I get home, I promise.’

Standing up too, Ethan ran a hand through his hair. ‘Yes, OK. Well, good luck with everything. Hope he’s all right,’ he mumbled, feeling foolish, and also completely clueless as to what to do. He couldn’t very well say anything now, could he? Not with the poor girl in such a state. Stupidly, he held out his hand to shake hers.

‘I hope so too,’ she replied, suddenly throwing her arms around him in a hug that caught him completely off guard. ‘Thank you so much again for all you’ve done – it was wonderful. Bye, Daisy!’ she added, waving, and in a flash she was gone.

For a long moment, Ethan stared after her, not sure what to think.

‘I really like her, Dad,’ Daisy said, completely unperturbed by the fact that, after all that, they’d got absolutely
no
where. ‘She makes cookies.
And
she smells nice.’

Ethan smiled distractedly. ‘Yes, yes, she’s lovely.’ What on earth was he going to do now?

Suddenly he felt completely exhausted by the events of the last few days. He was all out of ideas. It was too late to change this evening’s flight, and even if the airline was amenable they’d no doubt charge him a fortune to do so at such a late stage. In any case, even if they did stay on longer it wasn’t as if he could camp out here at the hospital until Knowles got better. Vanessa was suspicious enough as it was.

He picked up his cup of coffee and drank from it, although he might as well have been drinking dishwater. In fact, he realised he hadn’t tasted anything or indeed eaten properly since Christmas morning, when all of this started.

‘What are we going to do now, Dad?’ Daisy asked. ‘Should we just go to Tiffany’s and get Vanessa another ring?’

Oh the innocence of eight-year-olds! As if Ethan had tens of thousands tucked away somewhere . . .

He picked up the cookie she’d been eating, hoping that the sugar rush might help sort out his nausea. ‘Give me a bite of that.’

‘But, Dad, you’re not supposed to eat too many!’

‘Who says?’ he teased. ‘There’s no such thing as too many cookies.’ He shoved a handful of them into his mouth in a weak imitation of the Cookie Monster from
Sesame Street
.

She giggled; it was a sound that always made his heart lift. ‘Dad, you’re silly.’

‘No, you are.’

‘No,
you
are.’

And as Ethan continued to banter with his beloved daughter, he remembered that no matter what, there was always at least one woman in his life who made everything seem better.

Chapter 9

‘I know, it’s wonderful, isn’t it?’ Rachel said into the phone later that day. Though she and Terri had left phone messages for each other over the last day or so, this was the first time they had actually connected.

Despite the scary turn he’d taken at the hospital earlier, Gary was once again in a stable condition, but barely lucid, which meant that Rachel was still waiting for her grand proposal. As there was little point in her hanging around the ward, Kim had advised her to head back to the hotel and get some rest, and had promised to call if his condition changed.

In the meantime, Rachel had taken the opportunity to call her best friend and tell her the ‘big’ news.

‘All I can say is that when he does ask you, he’d better get down on one knee, or the next time he comes in here, the only beer he’ll get served will be right over his head. And don’t think for a second that I’m joking!’

Rachel laughed. She and Terri always shared this kind of good-natured banter about Gary, but beneath it all was an undercurrent of mutual love and support.

They had met in catering school many years before, and right from the time they were partnered up during the bakery section of the course their connection had been fast and furious.

That first day, as they were braiding dough, Rachel broke off a piece, cupped it beneath her nose and breathed in the aroma and warmth of it. ‘God, what is it about the smell of fresh dough?’ she’d asked, moaning softly and closing her eyes.

‘I don’t know, but before you have an orgasm here in front of me, save it for my famous sourdough,’ Terri quipped. ‘It’ll make your mouth water and your legs quiver. In fact, it came between me and my last boyfriend. He was jealous; couldn’t handle it.’

Rachel laughed out loud. ‘Nah, just wait till a warm piece of my Sicilian olive bread passes your lips and melts on your tongue, then you’ll know all about it.’

‘Bring it on,’ Terri had challenged.

And so it went. At that time, Rachel was a country girl new to Dublin and without many friends whereas Terri was Dublin born and bred. After lectures the next day the two of them got together at a nearby greasy-spoon café for dinner, and from then on they were inseparable.

Weekends were spent in St Stephen’s Green, chatting over baskets of their own freshly baked bread, as well as cheeses, fruit and lots of wine. Over the course of the next few months they bonded over shared recipes – a blend of tastes, textures and fragrances – and respective life stories and dreams.

Their mutual love of food and cooking, especially baking, made the friendship seem fated. Out of it came plans for a low-budget world-food tour, with special focus on the food of the Mediterranean, and after graduation they spent a whirlwind summer travelling throughout Europe.

Afterwards they both spent several years in various different catering jobs, but remained firm friends, with a strong involvement in each other’s lives.

Then, a year ago, Terri’s father, who ran a small café/bar in Dublin city centre, became ill, and the two women decided to look into buying him out and refurbishing the café, turning it into a more high-end Mediterranean-style bistro, which they called Stromboli.

When it came to their shared enterprise, Terri’s business sense and Rachel’s creativity worked well together. Although their arguments were vehement at times, the laughs generally trumped the quarrels. Rachel loved Terri’s pragmatism and wit; Terri in turn adored Rachel’s passion and impulsiveness.

‘I’m the looker, you’re the leaper,’ Terri would tease whenever their roles blurred at work.

Ordinarily it would have been Terri organising the renovations, but when her dad took a turn for the worse on one particular day Rachel had agreed to take her place at the meeting with Gary Knowles.

Now, sitting with her feet up on the sill of her hotel window, Rachel couldn’t believe the strange twist in fate that day that had led to her meeting the man she was going to marry. It could just as easily have been Terri here in New York now bringing
her
up to speed on what had happened, but at the same time she couldn’t see it. The two people Rachel loved most in the world didn’t always see eye to eye (if ever) and as such she couldn’t see Terri and Gary engaged and planning to spend the rest of their lives together.

Not that she and Gary had managed to do that yet either . . .

‘Never mind getting down on one knee to do it,’ she said to Terri now. ‘I couldn’t care less if he stands on his head, just as long as I get to reopen that little blue box.’

‘Tiffany’s! Who would have thought it?’ her friend mused. ‘Not that you don’t deserve it of course, but I must admit I didn’t think Gary had that kind of taste.’

‘Really, and what kind of taste did you think he had?’ Rachel tried to sound petulant but there was a smile in her voice. In fact she knew exactly what her friend meant; she’d even thought the very same thing.

‘Oh don’t give me that wounded-kitten act; you know what I mean.’

Rachel popped a piece of cheese into her mouth. ‘I suppose it was a bit unexpected,’ she replied, her mouth full. ‘Oh wait till you see the ring – it’s just incredible, and—’

‘What are you eating?’

‘Just some feta I picked up earlier.’

‘Ah, feeling a bit homesick, are we?’

‘If you’re implying that I’m missing you, guess again. Any occasion for cheese, that’s what I say. I passed a lovely little Greek deli on the way back from the hospital and picked up this cheese plate. Not as good as
our
cheese plate, mind you, but it’ll do.’ Besides that, Rachel hadn’t been eating properly for the last few days. As it was, the last thing she’d managed until now was a cookie with that guy Ethan and his daughter earlier that morning.

Just then, Rachel heard another call coming through on her mobile. ‘Cripes, it’s the hospital,’ she said to Terri. ‘I’d better go.’

‘No problem. Let me know when lover boy is back on his feet, and don’t worry about this place; Justin and I can hold the fort till you get back.’

‘Thanks. I promise I’ll make it up to you. Say hi to Justin for me. Talk soon.’ She hung up and clicked through to the other line. ‘Hello?’

It was Kim. ‘Did you manage to get some rest?’ the nurse asked. ‘Because chances are you won’t be getting much of it from now on.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I’m very happy to report that your man is on the mend.’

Rachel’s heart soared. ‘He’s awake?’

‘Yep,’ Kim confirmed, a smile in her voice. ‘Looks like you’ll finally get a chance to put that great big rock on your finger for keeps.’

Rachel felt a thrill bubble up in her throat as she entered the hospital and took the elevator to the relevant floor. She could hardly contain herself and did a little skip as she rounded the corner to the hallway that led to Gary’s room.

She was about to burst straight through the door, but instead opened it softly and peeked around the edge of it. Gary was sitting up in bed with the TV remote in his hand, flipping through the channels.

Seeing him look so normal and well, a burst of emotion shot right through her.

‘I can’t believe you’re really awake!’ she cried, swooping in to give him a big hug.

‘Whoa, whoa! I’m still sore, babe,’ he replied, holding up a hand to warn her.

‘Oops, sorry.’ Rachel stroked his forehead and the side of his face, which was stubbly with almost three days of beard growth. ‘So, tell me, how are you feeling? Do you remember what happened?’

Gary grimaced. ‘I suppose I’ll survive. Bloody taxi driver, mowing me down in the middle of the road like that.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘I hope the cops got him afterwards, stupid gobshite.’

‘You poor thing. It must have been awful.’

‘Hey, was my stuff OK?’ he asked. ‘The hospital said you’d taken my bags. I hope nothing got lost, or stolen even – some people would take the eye out of your head,’ he added, gasping a bit as he tried to sit up straighter.

Rachel smiled inwardly. How funny; Gary was barely conscious and his mind was already on the engagement ring. ‘No, nothing missing as far as I know, thanks to a very nice man and his daughter. They came to your rescue, waited with you and looked after your stuff till the ambulance came. Anyway, I’ll tell you more about that later. I’m just so glad you’re OK. I wasn’t sure whether or not I should call your mum,’ she said, hesitating a little.

‘You didn’t, did you?’ Gary looked up sharply, and was she imagining it or did a shadow cross his face when he said it?

‘No, I thought I’d better wait and ask you first – seeing as I don’t really know her . . .’

‘Good. I wouldn’t want anyone worrying unnecessarily.’

‘Yes, that’s what I decided in the end. Of course I would have reassured her that you were fine and that she didn’t need to worry.’

He bristled. ‘I’m not that fine. These ribs are still bloody sore, you know.’

‘Oh I know,’ Rachel soothed. ‘Anyway it’s probably better she doesn’t know, what with us being so far away and it being Christmas and everything.’ She decided to change the subject. ‘It’s a pity you missed Christmas Day, but we can celebrate properly as soon as you’re out of here.’ She grinned. ‘And exchange gifts then too.’

‘Yeah, I suppose,’ Gary replied nonchalantly. ‘I can’t believe I was out of it for so long, though. We’ll need to get back home soon; I’ve got a job starting first thing on Wednesday. What date is it today? The twenty-seventh, is it? I think that’s what the doc told me.’

Rachel’s face dropped. ‘But I got our flights changed because I didn’t know how long you’d be here. Gary, you can’t start a building job so soon after leaving the hospital. You said yourself you’re still not a hundred per cent, so you need to take it easy, at least for a while.’

He seemed to be thinking it over. ‘I suppose I could always ring yer man and tell him I’ll be there first thing after the New Year . . .’

‘That’s more like it. Anyway, I thought that once you got out, maybe we could stay on in the city until New Year’s?’ Rachel figured he might be up for it in the circumstances, especially with his grand plans for a proposal going astray. New Year’s Eve in New York would no doubt be amazing. They could go to Times Square and take in the atmosphere while waiting for the ball drop; it would help make up for missing Christmas.

Gary looked at her as if she was mad. ‘Not a hope! You’ll have to change them back, babe. To the earliest ones you can get. To be honest, after all I’ve gone through I can’t wait to see the back of this place.’

BOOK: Something From Tiffany’s
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