Something From Tiffany’s (9 page)

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Authors: Melissa Hill

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Something From Tiffany’s
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From start to finish Christmas Day had been a disaster, and it seemed to Ethan that her new-found desire to shop was an opportunity for a break from the unbroken tension that had existed between them for the last twenty-four hours or so.

Just then a woman twice his size stepped on his foot with no regard, and stifling an expletive he tugged at Daisy’s hand, pulling her out of the crowd and into a nearby café. ‘Time for hot chocolate, I think,’ he muttered darkly.

‘Really, Dad,’ she replied, giving him a disapproving look. ‘We’ve been having way too much of that lately. I think you need to lay off.’

‘Well, I’m sorry, but just now it’s absolutely necessary,’ Ethan said as they each took a stool at the counter. ‘Hot chocolate and a coffee, please,’ he said to the barista. He winked at Daisy. ‘The coffee’s for me; is that better?’

She nodded, mollified. ‘Much better.’

Stirring milk into the mug, he tried to take a moment to gather his wits.

Last night, after Daisy had gone to bed he’d hoped for a romantic night with Vanessa and had ordered a nice bottle of wine, a Bordeaux, from room service and had it delivered with a red rose on the cart.

When he wheeled it into the bedroom where Vanessa was already cosy in bed, she looked up and gave him a wan smile that made him feel kind of foolish, as if she knew somehow that he was trying too hard.

He’d poured them each a glass and then sat facing her on the bed.

‘To us,’ he toasted, looking into her eyes. She nodded and looked back at him somewhat quizzically, then raised hers to toast him too. He thought she looked particularly beautiful that night, and always loved it when she wore no make-up and was just fresh and natural. Still, despite the cushion of red wine and the relaxation it brought, the conversation between them remained stilted at best. It was then that she mentioned something about spending the following day shopping.

‘Well, of course, whatever you like,’ he said, surprised but wanting to be nothing but supportive. ‘It is New York after all and you deserve to treat yourself.’ This seemed like as good an opener as any to set aside the wine glass and then turn back to slowly kiss her neck. When she responded, he paused to turn on his iPod, which was docked in the Bose system on the nightstand. Roberta Flack’s ‘The First Time’, a favourite of Vanessa’s, filled the room.

Naturally, he expected the mood between them that night to be transformed, and had hoped his efforts would make up for the events (or non-events) of the day. Even with the wine and the music, though, the whole thing felt tense and mechanical, as if they were both just going through the motions.

Today, the scene played out over and over again in his head, leaving him feeling a little guilty for being so preoccupied while he was with Daisy. ‘OK,’ he said, trying to shake off these peripheral thoughts and once again turn his attention to tracking down the ring, ‘let’s get going on our treasure hunt.’

‘What? But, Dad, you haven’t taken even a sip of your coffee, and I’ve already finished my hot chocolate.’ Daisy was perceptive, as always.

‘Yes, but I’m thinking we really shouldn’t delay too long – just in case.’ Ethan plopped a couple of coins on the counter by way of a tip, and the two of them headed back out onto the street in the direction of 727 Fifth Avenue.

‘Ah, Mr Greene, hello.’ The same elderly Tiffany’s assistant who’d sold them the ring greeted Ethan and Daisy effusively upon arrival. He smiled benevolently. ‘So how did the lucky lady like her Christmas surprise?’

‘Well, perhaps there is a lucky lady somewhere who is enjoying it very much,’ Ethan replied, his tone sounding much edgier than he’d intended, and the man raised an eyebrow. Then he sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but it seems there’s been some kind of mistake.’

‘A mistake? Please – have a seat,’ the assistant urged, looking genuinely concerned as he led them aside.

Ethan and Daisy both sat down in front of one of the octagonal display areas. He tried his best to explain. ‘I just don’t know how it could have happened. I absolutely remember seeing the ring I picked out in the box before you had it wrapped on my behalf. But when my fiancée – or should I say my intended fiancée – opened the package yesterday morning there was just a . . . a charm bracelet inside.’ His palms became sweaty just thinking about it; he rubbed them on his jeans. ‘No ring, no diamond solitaire – just a silver charm bracelet.’

‘A
charm
bracelet?’ the assistant repeated in bewilderment.

‘Yes. I was thinking that maybe there was some kind of mix-up with the wrapping, or that I’d been given the wrong bag.’ This was the most likely scenario, yet the one Ethan half-hoped wasn’t the case, because it meant that his purchase was in the possession of one very happy stranger.

‘But I can’t think what . . . This is unheard of,’ the man blustered. ‘As it is, we sell only diamonds on this floor. Gift items are available on the ground floor or up on the third, the Silver Floor.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Just a moment. Let me call my supervisor.’

Ethan’s jaw began to work. Damn, this didn’t look good. ‘Of course. Thank you.’

While the assistant made the call, Daisy rested a hand on her father’s knee. ‘Dad, it’s OK. I’m sure everything will be fine,’ she said, sounding anxious. Ethan looked at her, and immediately felt bad for having to drag her through all of this rigmarole.

‘I know, and I’m sorry for getting so flustered. Just . . . thanks for helping me out with this.’

The next thing Ethan knew, he and Daisy were being greeted very graciously by the Tiffany’s General Manager and whisked away by him and a couple of other suits to take a look at the Christmas Eve security-tape footage.

It seemed to Ethan, sitting there in the dim room, that there must be nearly as many security cameras as diamonds on the premises. Luckily this meant that they could watch his and Daisy’s visit to the store and their activity on the Diamond Floor from multiple angles, but, disappointingly, nothing seemed untoward. There was certainly no switch of bags, and from what he could tell absolutely no mix-up either.

He figured that these guys were probably just as suspicious – if not more so – of him as he was of them, since no doubt it wouldn’t have been the first time that someone had tried to claim a missing item. Yet the bottom line was that nothing at all was revealed in the store tapes. He and Daisy appeared to have definitely left Tiffany’s with the diamond.

End of story.

Ethan thanked the manager and the security team for their assistance, and they in turn promised to offer all support possible, and asked that he keep them apprised of any progress. ‘Thanks, and likewise,’ he said, shaking hands all around.

Back outside on the street, Ethan couldn’t have been more frustrated.

‘What now, Dad?’ Daisy asked.

‘I really don’t know, poppet,’ he replied, wracking his brains to try to come up with his next move. If there was no mix-up, no oversight in Tiffany’s, then what on earth could have happened? They’d gone straight back to the hotel after being there, hadn’t they? Or had they stopped off somewhere else . . . ?

‘Do you think we could maybe get something to eat now? Sorry, but I’m really hungry.’

Ethan looked at his watch; it was almost lunchtime and they’d been in the store much longer than he’d anticipated. ‘OK, I suppose we could—’ A sudden screeching of tyres in the background cut off the rest of his sentence. ‘Of course,’ he exclaimed, looking in the direction of the noise. The accident! That was it! That
had
to be it. He turned to Daisy, his eyes wide. ‘Remember that man, the one who got hit by the cab, the one we helped on Christmas Eve? He had all those packages, remember?’

‘Yes . . .’ Daisy nodded, unsure what he was getting at.

‘Don’t you remember? When I asked you to gather his things up for him and keep an eye on them . . . is there a chance that there was some confusion, that the man’s things and our things might have got mixed up?’

All of a sudden, she looked scared. ‘No, no, Dad. I really don’t think so . . .’ She bit her lip; the notion that she could have been the cause of all this was obviously troubling her greatly.

‘Honey, it’s OK, it’s really OK if it did, and it isn’t your fault,’ he was quick to reassure her. ‘But it makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? Yes, that has to be it. Right,’ Ethan announced, the weight on his shoulders suddenly feeling a hell of a lot lighter, ‘let’s go and find a restaurant somewhere. Might as well make the most of that New York pizza while we’re here, yes? You can eat as much as you like. Me, I’ve got some phone calls to make.’

Chapter 7

‘Look, sir, it’s like I said. I’m sorry, but we just can’t give out that kind of information. It’s against hospital policy. I wish I could help you, though, I really do.’

‘You don’t understand,’ Ethan said, stepping closer to the nurses’ station and growing more impatient by the second. He wasn’t usually one to play on his charm (not since his college days at Cambridge, anyway), but it was apparent that this young nurse, Molly, might just be a tiny bit smitten with him and his adorable daughter. And the accent probably didn’t hurt either, Ethan figured.

After hours of dead-end phone calls and one fruitless hospital mission after another, he finally had a solid lead on the man who had been hit by the cab on Christmas Eve, and he was less and less willing to take no for an answer. Dodging Vanessa on the issue, and trying not to act suspiciously in the meantime hadn’t been easy, but Ethan had come this far and wasn’t giving up now.

He was a man on a mission, and readily willing to use any tools at his disposal. He moved closer to the desk, cocked his head and gave Molly his most winning smile.

‘Sir –’ another nurse, obviously more senior, stepped in and positioned her large frame between him and the desk ‘– I sympathise with you and your “situation”, but you and those big blue eyes can just take it elsewhere. And you, nurse,’ she said, turning to the younger woman, ‘can get back to work.’

‘But—’

She stopped Ethan in his tracks with a disapproving look. ‘Yes, I overheard most of it, and let me tell you that you have no cause for disturbing this patient and no claim to his identity. You don’t even know his name, for goodness’ sake. Now I don’t care where you’re from, what your schedule is or when you have to fly home. And I don’t know what you want from this poor man but I suspect that whoever he is, he’s already been through enough. You simply may not see him. Period.’

At this, Ethan felt a prickling sensation at the back of his neck. He knew people generally considered him passive, something that actually irked him no end, as he was far from it; he was just very choosy about where he expended his energy. However, when he did commit himself to an idea, a cause or a person, he could not be swayed; and in this case there was a (very expensive) diamond, not to mention an entire relationship, at stake. Ethan was not backing down.

Taking a deep breath, he rounded on the nurse. ‘Well, seeing as you’re defending this man’s privacy, and seem to know precisely who I’m talking about, then I can only conclude that he must be here at this hospital.’

‘I said no such thing,’ she protested darkly. ‘Besides, if he’s not a family member, as you say, why does finding this guy mean so much to you?’

Following a phone call to the first hospital, during which he’d spilled all of the details, Ethan had quickly realised that his story sounded implausible and he came off as a madman, so in all subsequent searches he’d decided to leave out the part about the missing ring.

‘Look,’ he told the nurse now, hoping to appeal to her better nature, ‘I lost something in all of the mayhem, something important. And the thing everybody seems to be overlooking here is that if it weren’t for me and my daughter, the guy might not have made it. We most likely saved his life.’

‘Saved his life?’

‘Yes, I gave him first aid while we waited for the ambulance to arrive, and my daughter here made sure to protect his belongings.’ He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.


You’re
the one who helped him?’ the younger nurse piped up again. ‘The paramedics were talking about you.’

‘Yes.’ Ethan crossed his arms and spread his feet in a solid stance as he continued to stare down the older nurse, who still didn’t look convinced.

‘Nice going, Employee of the Month,’ she said, rolling her eyes at her colleague. She turned back to Ethan. ‘OK, perhaps this changes things a little. I mean, no one does that sort of thing in Manhattan,’ she said, shaking her head in bewilderment, and Ethan’s shoulders relaxed a little as she paused, seemingly deep in thought. ‘Well, since you extended yourself to help this man, there’s possibly a grey area here, and I suppose we
could
allow you to see him – as long as you are supervised, of course.’

Ethan was thrilled, but contained himself. ‘I’d really appreciate that.’

‘And, no, Nurse Starks, I’m not looking for volunteer chaperones,’ she said sharply to her younger colleague, who had risen hopefully from her station. ‘In fact, why don’t you keep an eye on the little lady here, while I get someone to take Mr Greene to the room?’

‘Sure,’ the younger nurse replied. ‘Is it OK if I get her a soda and a snack?’ she asked Ethan.

‘Yes, whatever she likes,’ he said. ‘Is that all right with you, buttercup?’

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