Change of Harte (Harte, #2) (Harte Series)

by Harris, Brooke

  For someone so tiny, Shelly had just put away an eye-popping amount of food.

  ‘I’m sure he’s perfectly capable of ordering room service.’

  Eva glanced back at the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. She was surprised he’d managed to sleep through all their giggling and snorting and laughing so much their stomachs hurt.

  ‘So, today,’ Eva said biting into a delicious pancake, ‘I thought we could do some of the touristy stuff. The Empire State building maybe? Could give ice-skating at Rockefeller Centre a go, but it might be crazy busy at this time of year.’

  ‘How about a walk in Central Park? I could really do with the fresh air.’

  ‘Yeah, sure. Whatever you want. It’s absolutely freezing out there, though.’

  ‘Don’t care. Need to clear my head.’

  Eva couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but Shelly didn’t seem herself at all. She put it down to travelling, but even that didn’t seem enough to have Shelly this distracted. It was weird.

  ‘Will we wait for Nathan to get up?’

  Shelly polished off the last of her second muffin and shook her head. ‘Nope.’

  Eva didn’t know what to say. She wasn’t expecting that response. ‘Oh, erm, okay. Well, maybe just leave him a message to join us later?’

  ‘Nope,’ Shelly repeated.

  ‘Shell, is everything okay?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Erm, can I get more than that one word?’

  ‘Okay. How about I couldn’t give a shit what that fucking arse is doing today, but whatever it is, I don’t want him anywhere near me. There. Is that a better reply?’

  Eva looked at the ground and then back up at her friend. ‘Shell, what’s wrong? I thought you two were really tight.’

  ‘We were.’

  ‘So, what happened then?’

  ‘I just realised that he wasn’t who he pretended to be, and I can’t handle that kind of shit. Fuck, no.’

  Eva looked at the ground again, and this time she didn’t look back up.

  ‘Ah, Jesus, Eva. That came out wrong.’

  ‘Did he pretend to be an escort, work his way into your life, make you fall in love with him, and then reveal in front of everyone, FUCKING EVERYONE, that he was actually your boss screwing with your head all along?’

  Shelly burst out laughing, so hard it rained mushy chocolate chip muffin from her mouth.

  ‘Well, no. The crown for effort is definitely still firmly on Julian’s head.’

  Eva laughed, too. It was all so unbelievably ridiculous that there really wasn’t any other reaction.

  ‘Jesus, we really know how to pick ‘em, don’t we?’ Shelly said blushing, most likely at her muffin incident and not her shitty choice in boyfriend material.

  ‘Okay. C’mon. Grab your coat. We’ll get out of here before Nathan wakes up and you can fill me in while we walk,’ Eva said unwrapping her coat from the back of her chair and buttoning it across her chest as quickly as if someone was chasing them.

  Shelly looked back at the bedroom where Eva was sporadically staring. ‘He’s not in there. We’ve checked into separate suites.’

  Eva’s racing fingers stopped suddenly. ‘Oh, God, that bad? Is this really serious?’

  Shelly nodded. ‘Yeah. It sucks, but I think this might be it.’

  Eva hugged Shelly tight, but she couldn’t shake feeling decidedly awkward. She was dying to know every juicy detail, and for Shelly’s sake, she wanted to agree with all the nasty things she probably needed to say about Nathan. But hearing a one-sided version of the argument between her friends felt like a betrayal of Nathan, and she felt really guilty just thinking about it.

  ‘I have an idea. How about we skip the park and try something a bit different?’

  Shelly pulled a face. ‘Okay, but I really was looking forward to walking off all that bloody food.’

  ‘Trust me, this will be good.’

  ‘Okay…I trust you.’

  Chapter 15

  A quick hop on and off the subway later, and Eva’s face lit up with enthusiasm as they stopped outside a small multi-coloured building, inconspicuous as it nestled between towering grey blocks. Eva had suggested they save the bitching about boys until later over some cocktails and Shelly had eagerly agreed. And right now, Eva was looking forward to nothing more than a girls’ day out. Even if her plan was slightly more unorthodox than getting their hair and nails done.

  ‘This is it,’ Eva said, as if stopping abruptly in the street and walking toward the store door wasn’t already confirmation.

  ‘Tits and Tattoos?’ Shelly said dryly.

  Eva raised both her eyebrows and her head bounced up and down like a Noddy Dog in the back of a car on a bumpy road. ‘This is the place.’

  ‘Are you shitting me?’

  ‘What? No. Of course, not. I’m serious. Come on, it’ll be fun.’

  ‘Tits and Tattoos, that’s really the best name they could come up with.’

  ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Suppose not. Hang on; I have to get a picture of this.’

  Shelly turned her back to the shop, tilted her head to one side, and held her phone an arm’s length away from her face. ‘Do you want to hop in?’

  Eva shook her head. ‘Are you putting that on Facebook?’

  ‘Yeah, absolutely. It’s fucking hilarious.’

  ‘Don’t tag me, okay?’

  ‘Why not? I’m not taking the piss out of you or anything; the name just cracks me up.’

  ‘No, I get that. I just…I just don’t really want Julian to know I’m here.’

  Shelly rolled her eyes. ‘Why the fuck not? What does it matter where you are?’

  ‘Just don’t want him to know. Not today anyway, please?’

  ‘Eva, is this for him? Are you getting a tattoo to prove something to Julian? ‘Cause that’s not a good reason.’

  ‘No. Of course, not. I don’t have anything to prove to him. I want a tattoo for me. I have for a while and it’s going to be so much more fun with you with me. But I just don’t want a million questions from the noisy bitches back in the Dublin office on Facebook about it. And I really don’t want Julian judging me, okay?’

  Shelly slid her phone back into her bag, scrunched up her shoulders and her nose, and gave a little excited yelp. ‘You’re right, this is going to be fun…Okay, let’s do this. I’m excited for you.’

  ‘And you won’t tag me?’

  Shelly held out her hand and curled all her fingers toward her palm except her baby finger, which she pointed at Eva. ‘Pinkie promise.’

  Eva copied the gesture, locked her baby finger around Shelly’s, and laughed hard.

  The décor inside was even less tasteful than outside and Eva was immediately having second thoughts.

  ‘So, what are you going to get?’ Shelly said smiling at the hairy guy behind reception.

  ‘Here you go.’ He smiled back, passing Eva a dog-eared book, and pointed toward some seats to the side. ‘Take your time. I’ll just be in the back. Give me a shout when you’re ready.’

  He disappeared into a room behind reception, and Eva was surprised by how calm and professional it all seemed. A bit like a trip to the dentist or something.

  ‘Soooo…’ Shelly said as they sat down.

  ‘Dunno. I had something in mind but when I called a couple of months ago, the guy said I’d have to choose a design from their book. They won’t do custom ones for your first time.’

  ‘Ah, that’s a bit pants.’

  ‘Well, yeah. Especially since I don’t ever want to have more than one.’

  ‘Everyone says that, but it’s addictive—honestly. Sure, look at me, I’ve got two already.’

  ‘Yeah and they’re lovely, but…’

  ‘No. They’re not on my butt, but actually, there’s an idea. Pass me that book, will ya?’

  Eva handed over the folder filled with laminate sheets, full of photos of various designs.

  ‘Here, look at this
one. It’s really pretty.’ Shelly pointed to a little butterfly with lots of detail on the wings.

  ‘Um, yeah.’

  ‘Or this one.’ Shelly pointed to a constellation of stars this time.

  Eva tried to hide her lack of enthusiasm staring at the various designs. ‘Just not sure if they’re me.’

  ‘Oh God, I love this one.’ Shelly had flicked right to the back and found a treble clef and staff with five notes dotted across. ‘I wonder if I could get any notes I like put on.’

  ‘Yeah, sure, that’s no big deal,’ the tattoo artist answered breezily as he reappeared and walked past.

  ‘I thought it was no custom designs,’ Eva mumbled not loud enough for Shelly or the artist to hear.

  ‘Awesome. I’m going to go for it,’ Shelly said.

  ‘What?’ Eva shook her head. ‘You’re going to get it done today, now like?’

  ‘Yeah sure, why not?’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit spontaneous.’

  Shelly nodded with a big toothy grin. ‘Totally is. But how cool will it be when I go home and people are like ‘what did you get in New York?’ And I can be like ‘ah, just a tattoo on my arse.’’

  ‘Ha, could you imagine actually saying that.’

  Shelly winked. ‘Who’s imagining?’

  ‘You’re absolutely crazy, do you know that? So, what notes are you getting? Do you have a song in mind?’ Eva asked, trying to play down how shocked she suddenly was.

  ‘Feck no. I’m not that arty farty. Just wanted to move the notes around to make it look prettier.’

  Shelly passed the folder back to Eva. ‘So, have you seen anything you like?’ Shelly scanned the walls that Eva had been staring at. There were lots of posters and photos of past clients with their masterpieces inked on various body parts.

  ‘Nah. Think I’m going to skip this time.’

  ‘Oh, God, Eva. I hope you don’t think I’ve taken over. I just thought, ah feck it, you know? I’ll leave it, too. It was your idea, after all.’

  ‘No, no. Don’t be silly. You go ahead. I bet it’ll look great. I just need a bit more time to think, that’s all.’

  ‘You sure.’

  Eva nodded.

  ‘Okay, cool. Well, how ‘bout you sit with me, and then maybe by the time mine’s done you’ll know what you want to get.’

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’ Eva was aware of how deflated she sounded and she tried to brighten up.

  Shelly was bubbly and delightful, but she didn’t appreciate art. Not the way Eva did. She loved that a spur of the moment decision could lead to a fantastic tattoo that Shelly would probably love for years. But that wasn’t how Eva was wired. She really wanted something unique. She always had to think everything through…she always had to be…she always had to be, well, boring. My God, she was so goddamn boring and predictable. Shelly had probably guessed from the start that she’d chicken out. No wonder Shelly had decided to get one; it’d have been a wasted trip otherwise. But maybe Shelly underestimated her. Julian never underestimated her, quite the opposite actually. She hadn’t done anything really crazy since the ball back in Dublin. Julian walking back into her life again suddenly made her want to up her game all over again. Right there, in the surprisingly rather sterile environment, she decided to do something that would completely blow Julian’s mind. It was so far from predictable that it was actually quite crazy.

  ‘Who does the piercings?’ she asked as soon as the tattoo artist came back out to the reception area from the little back room.

  ‘I do those, too,’ he said.

  ‘Of course,’ Eva said, judging from his face that was the closest thing to a scrap metal yard she had ever seen. There were three bars vertically through his left eyebrow, a ring on each side of his nose, and a bar between his nostrils. Both his ears had piercings dotting from the top right down to the lobe and his left ear had a chain that hooked around the first piercing and ran down to, and through, the last one. It all looked rather painful, if she was honest, and definitely intimidating. If she’d bumped into this guy in an alley on a Saturday night, he’d probably have scared the absolute shit out of her. But, here in his studio, Eva could see he was just a nice guy who liked poking holes in things. And she was about to ask for his professional opinion about poking a hole in her. Eek!

  He and Shelly began discussing the details of her design—he asked her a bunch of questions and gave her a form to fill out. Eva zoned out for a while as she scrutinised the photos on the wall. There were no pictures of anyone getting the piercing she was about to ask for. Oh, God. Oh, God.

  Chapter 16

  ‘Just here will do fine, Anthony,’ Julian said when they were a block away from Vertigo.

  ‘Here? Really? It’s just a little further. I’m sure there’s parking.’

  ‘Here.is.fine. Stop the car, please.’

  Anthony did as his boss requested. He tucked the head-turning black car alongside the curb, cut off the engine, and turned around.

  ‘Mr. Harte. I hope this isn’t out of line. But do you need someone to come with you…it’s just…’

  Julian interrupted his loyal employee. ‘I appreciate the gesture, Anthony. But I know what I’m doing.’

  ‘I don’t doubt that, Julian. But I still have a pretty shitty feeling about this.’

  Julian smiled hearing his first name pass his chauffeur’s lips for the first time in a long time. ‘I have a shitty feeling, too, Anthony. But I won’t be responsible for dragging anyone other than myself into this, understand?’

  Anthony nodded. Concern was scribbled in every contorted line of his usually bubbly face. ‘If you’re not back in, what, an hour, should I phone the cops?’

  A deep crackle shook in the Julian’s chest and he rolled his eyes and shook his head. ‘You’ve been watching too much James Bond again, mate. But I do need you to wait here for me. When I come back to the car, no questions. As soon as I close the door behind me, you drive, okay?’

  ‘Julian, you’re really worrying me.’

  ‘You drive, Anthony, okay?’ Julian reiterated. He needed to be certain Anthony wasn’t going to crumble under pressure.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Good, man. Now, did you pick up that nagging I asked you for?’

  ‘Yeah, sort of. Felt like a complete gobshite asking for one, though. They don’t use naggings here, so I got you a flask. Same thing, really.’ Anthony handed Julian a smart stainless steel flask filled with gin.

  ‘Grand. That’ll do fine.’

  ‘There’s Bombay Saphire and Tanquary in the minibar here in the car, Mr. Harte. A flask isn’t usually your style.’

  ‘I thought it was time for a makeover,’ Julian laughed dryly.

  Anthony’s eyebrows twitched, confused. Julian opened the flask, took a deep breath, and coughed. ‘Christ, that’s rotten. It’s perfect.’

  Julian splashed some of the cheap gin on the collar of his shirt and more on the lapel of his jacket. He poured some into his hands and splashed it against his face like an alternative to aftershave.

  ‘Are you okay, Mr. Harte,’ Anthony asked.

  ‘Perfectly.’

  Finally, Julian took a large swig from the flask and gargled it around the back of his throat before spitting the glorified piss water out the window.

  ‘Now, don’t forget. Stay here and wait for me. I shouldn’t be more than an hour, like you guessed.’

  ‘And if you are?’

  ‘If I am, you need to get the fuck out of here and call the cops.’

  ‘Julian, seriously…’

  ‘Anthony. Just do this for me.’

  Anthony nodded, but he closed his eyes and sighed heavily. ‘Of course, Mr. Harte.’

  Julian opened his jacket and slid the flask into his inside pocket, leaving it peeking out a little. Enough to be seen without being too obvious. Just right.

  Julian stood outside the doors of the club for a moment, swaying from side to side as he quickly made a mental note of where the security cameras w
ere dotted. Julian had something pretty seedy in mind, but this place reeked taste. From the finely manicured exotic foliage neatly placed around the heavy, possibly solid, gold door to the subtle, cream overhead canopy with Vertigo embossed in large, swirling, black font. If Julian hadn’t known better, this place could easily have passed itself as a luxurious cocktail bar or fine dining restaurant.

  Julian paused for a moment before ringing the doorbell. It had been a long time since he had acted; playing Oliver in a primary school play wasn’t exactly adequate training for his current situation. But right now, he needed to give the performance of his life.

  No one answered. Julian glanced at the nearest security camera out of the corner of his eye. He continued to sway a little, and pretended to take a huge slug out of his flask, spending at least a minute trying to put the flask back in his pocket, purposely missing each time. He rang the bell again. And again, and again.

  Finally, the door opened. A skinhead who was as wide as he was tall with pure muscle stood in the gap.

  ‘Howaya,’ Julian mumbled, laying his accent on thicker than usual.

  The man at the door didn’t reply, but his eyes narrowed to comma-shaped slits.

  ‘Was just looking for a little hubba, hubba,’ Julian said rocking his hips back and forth, stumbling and grabbing onto the man’s arm for support.

  The man exhaled like he had just inhaled Julian’s shit and shook Julian free from his arm.

  ‘Come back tonight. We’re closed.’

  ‘I’m in the right place, though, yeah? Just Danny down at the bar told me you’ve got the sweetest pussy in the city.’

  ‘You’re a friend of Danny’s?’

  ‘Course,’ Julian wobbled some more and threw in a hiccup. ‘We go way back.’

  ‘Danny Da Luca. You’re a friend of Mr. Da Luca’s, then?’

  Julian had only managed to dig up the first name of the weasel who shared a cell with Cameron. If there were more than one Danny, this could get awkward. Julian puffed out his cheeks, turned to the side, and crouched forward. It worked. The man jumped back, presumably to avoid impending vomit. After a few moments of some loud, unpleasant, dry retching, Julian stood up. He looked the man straight in the eye.