Conor beckoned the girls across a tree-lined street and over to a pretty little café with the most delicious-looking muffins and pastries filling its windows. The pale green awnings with Once Upon A Tart scripted across them protected those who sat out in front from the mid-afternoon sun. Sitting at a small round wooden table with a cup of coffee in front of him was Conor’s friend. He was doodling on a white paper napkin and as Conor approached he looked up and smiled.
“Hey, man!” Conor said flippantly.
Alex looked at Rachel and then at Nicky – then back at Rachel again. He surveyed her blonde curls and blue eyes as a wide smile beamed across his lips.
“When Conor said he had a sister I thought ‘if she’s anything like him she’ll have a wooden leg and a hump on her back’! But I can see that the looks in the family all went one way!”
Conor smirked at his wisecracking friend. He was used to his sense of humour and he was a good foil for his own laidback manner.
“Rach, Nicky – it’s with great misfortune I introduce Dr Alex Thoreau.”
“You’re a doctor?” Nicky asked in amazement. Wearing a thin leather necklace, small silver sleepers in his earlobes and a scruffy red T-shirt, he certainly didn’t look anything like her GP – not to mention his spiky white-blonde hair.
“Yes, but don’t let this shabby exterior fool you. Sure, if you were to have a heart attack on the spot I could do nothing to help you.” He smiled as he spoke and shook his head gravely. “However, if you had a canvas and a bucket of paint I could throw something together to save your wall!”
“Doctor of Fine Art – just the guy you need in a crisis,” Conor smirked. “Of course he got it in one of those American art colleges so it’s pretty worthless.”
Alex protested with a wave of his arms. “What about Pollock and Warhol – you guys would still be painting chocolate boxes in Europe if it wasn’t for us Yanks!”
Nicky was just about to butt in and say that Picasso was European but she didn’t want to seem like a total nerd already – even if she did think this artist guy was a bit of a jerk.
“Sorry, girls, he doesn’t usually get like this until after his fourth whiskey of the day,” Conor said with a smile. “What will it be – something savoury or sweet?”
Rachel and Nicky looked at each other and then back at Conor.
“I guess we should have a look inside,” Nicky said.
“Get me a cappuccino, sis, and a cinnamon muffin!”
Rachel rolled her eyes as her brother sat down next to Alex. “Who’s on holiday here?” she grinned.
The smell of cranberries and spices wafted from the kitchen to the rear of the café. Chickens and rabbits moulded from chocolate and candy mixtures decorated the shelves. At the counter an assortment of savoury delights – including frittata and pizza were on display next to the multitude of different muffins and home-baked cookies.
“I don’t think I’ve ever smelt such gorgeous food!” Nicky exclaimed. “It’s a good place to have the munchies after all that champagne I drank on the way over! Totally divine!”
“And the food isn’t the only thing that’s divine around here.” The words had rolled off Rachel’s tongue before she even realised that she was saying them.
Nicky looked over at her friend with an exaggerated mixture of shock and incredulity.
“Is this my married friend eyeing up the opposite sex while her good husband is at home minding the kids? I take it you are referring to that scruffy white-haired jerk?”
Rachel felt embarrassed despite Nicky’s jokey tone. And secretly she felt annoyed. Married she definitely was but Derek was no saint. He had always been difficult to live with at the best of times and recently he had become downright dismissive of her. His standards of perfection were so high that Rachel was made to feel a failure over most of the things that she did during the day.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” she said lightly – trying to conceal the attraction she had felt on meeting Alex. “Just he seems like a nice guy – funny!” She didn’t want to dig a bigger hole for herself than she could feel herself slipping into. “I’m glad my brother’s got a somewhat normal friend.”
“Honey, if you think that guy Alex is normal you need to get out more. Apart from that blueberry muffin that I am going to devour in about thirty seconds, Conor’s the only dish around here!” She turned to the waitress and ordered food and drinks for everyone.
Rachel paid the cashier and carried the tray out to her brother and his friend. It irritated her that Nicky had spoken so forcefully about Alex – she had hardly met him after all – and she was cross with herself for letting her.
“Sorry, girls – I should have told you,” Alex said as Rachel put the tray down on the table. “I gotta shoot – not like my friend Conor here shoots – I gotta get a ten-foot by five canvas finished by six o’clock.”
“Will you join us tonight?” Conor asked. “I thought I’d bring the girls to Kelly and Ping later for something to eat.”
Alex lifted his sweater off the chair and casually threw it over his shoulders. “Sounds good – one of my favourite places to eat,” he said with a nod of his spiky peroxide-blonde hair. “That is providing the ladies could bear spending the night with a real American.”
“You’re hardly a real American, Alex – your mother was from Rome,” Conor quipped.
“But I grew up in Massachusetts! Later, dude! Nice meeting you ladies,” Alex said with a little bow and then he was gone.
“He’s great guy,” Conor said as he watched him go. Then he turned back to the girls. “What do you two want to do after this?”
“Can we do some shopping?” Nicky asked eagerly.
“Look at her!” Rachel laughed. “She’s chomping at the bit. Let’s take her downtown to Fifth Avenue.”
* * *
Eve liked to shop around SoHo and it was one of the reasons why she chose to stay in the Soho Grand. If it was good enough for U2 then it was just about good enough for Eve Porter.
She made her way to the Armani shop first to get a few make-up essentials and she was running low on her favourite Armani Code perfume. Then she made a quick detour to get some La Perla lingerie. This trip had been organised in such a hurry she hadn’t made any arrangements to meet up with her old New York friends for tonight. She looked down at her Blackberry and remembered the email that Rachel had sent. She was between two minds whether she should answer her and decided to check out her New York friends first. She typed up two emails: one to Ingrid who used to work for Just for Coffee – Eve was probably the only person in the company that she would still socialize with – and another to Tom who was a married man she liked to call for casual sex whenever she came to town. She appreciated the merits of her sex-only relationship with Tom now that she was single again. It was ironic that she worked in the matchmaking business while the need for a constant companion and partner simply didn’t exist for her personally.
As she browsed through the lace-trimmed bras sized 34C she heard a bleep from her Blackberry and knew instantly who the message was from.
Hey gorgeous. Are you staying in the Soho Grand? How about 5 o c? T
She replied and then, smiling, slipped her phone back into her bag. He was so reliable. She checked her watch – two and a half hours was plenty of time to get some more shopping in – she might even have a bath before he arrived. Hell no! She’d have the bath when he got there.
As a rose-coloured two-piece set made entirely of lace was next on the rail she felt that serendipity had handed it to her. Tom loved pink! She made her way over to the cashier and joined the short queue.
* * *
Tom was always on time. He was so reliable there was no way Eve could stand him as a permanent fixture in her life. He was, like most men that she had dated and the one that she eventually married with such disastrous consequences, a solid dependable individual. She wondered if he was like that with his wife. Probably not if he could be there for her after one
email. He always appeared fascinated by her and had told her he was attracted by the aloof way she carried herself. She enjoyed the way most men buzzed around her like bees when in her company – it made her feel like a honey pot.
She sprayed a little of her new perfume on her neck and loosened the belt of her luxurious black bathrobe. There was no need to beat around the bush with Tom – they would enjoy an hour of making love and perhaps order some food up to the room – then she could decide what to do for the rest of the night. She didn’t relish the prospect of sharing the evening with her old college friend but part of her was curious. She still had unfinished business to trash out with Rachel and New York was probably as good a place to do it as anywhere.
The North Loft Suite of the Soho Grand was Eve’s favourite place to stay in New York now that she was a visitor. She was far enough away from all of the tourist hotels uptown and lucky that Lucille allowed her to charge the expensive room to the company. She strolled over to the large glass doors that looked out on the towering landmark of Manhattan. Later in the evening the Empire State would be illuminated like a glittering prize in the midst of the other skyscrapers and she could sit and watch it for hours. The cubist furniture and modern lines of the suite made this the perfect setting to enjoy the Manhattan skyline. She opened the door and stepped out onto the patio which was furnished with deckchair-striped couches and chairs. Maybe she should treat herself and Tom to a bottle of Bollinger – she deserved it.
Suddenly an impatient knock sounded on the door of her suite. She slowly walked over to open it – there was no need to appear overenthusiastic. She turned the handle and it was slowly but forcefully pushed from the other side. She could smell his Boss aftershave before she saw his face. Then his dark hazel eyes appeared around the door and they fixed on hers. Eve didn’t want to talk – there was absolutely nothing she had to say to him. Instead she pursed her lips and drew him close enough to kiss. He smelt of work and the splattering of aftershave that he used to try and conceal the odours of the day. She didn’t care – she loved his scent.
They shuffled, using tiny steps, inside the hotel suite – Eve walking backwards while Tom slammed the door with his left hand.
“Eve, baby. It was great to get your mail. I’m so glad to see you!”
Compliments didn’t impress Eve. She had most of the people in her life departmentalised and her relationship with Tom was based purely on sex and she didn’t want to waste the short time that they had together whispering niceties in his ear. She slipped the robe off her shoulders, revealing her nakedness. Her body was in such good shape that most women in their twenties would be envious of it.
“Wow, you are amazing . . . I’ve missed you!” Tom panted as he brushed his lips along her collarbone and rounded the curve of her shoulder. He was moving slowly down to her breasts when he suddenly stopped and studied her left arm. “Eve, honey, what happened to you?”
Eve glanced down at the scar along her upper arm and rolled her eyes. “I had a fall in the subway last time I was here – it’s nothing – just a silly little scar.” She moved her hand over to snap the buttons open on Tom’s shirt.
“What happened? Why didn’t you call me?”
“I didn’t have enough time to see you – it was a quickie visit for our AGM.”
Tom seemed hurt. “I can’t believe you were in New York and didn’t call me!”
Eve was getting impatient. “I said I was busy. Anyway if I wanted to be examined I’d have called a doctor.”
Tom took a step backwards. “Hey, honey, I’m just concerned – I haven’t seen you in months and now it’s like you don’t even want to talk!”
Eve snapped. “If I’d wanted to talk to you I would have phoned!”
Tom flinched at her sharp retort. It had been a crazy week in the world of fund-management and he didn’t need grief from a woman that he only saw a couple of times a year – even if she did drive him crazy with desire.
Eve rolled her eyes and picked up her bathrobe – slipping it on over her shoulders as she flopped down on the square grey couch.
She looked up at the dishevelled Tom as he fixed the buttons on his shirt.
“So, how’s the wife?”
“Jeez, Eve, is there any need for that?”
Eve pulled punches harder than most of the guys he’d had to deal with on Broad Street in the past few days and it looked like she was in fighting form tonight.
“I’m merely asking a polite question as you came here for a chat – I thought you were here for sex!”
Tom sat down on the luxurious couch opposite Eve. His legs spread wide, he rested his palms on his thighs and shook his head. “I like you, Eve, I’m glad to see you – it’s been a while.”
Eve dragged her French-polished fingernails through her hair and sighed. “Yeah, well, it’s been a crazy day for me – I’ve had emails from long-lost friends and a new client who I can already tell is going to be trouble . . .”
Tom shrugged.
“Yeah, well,” she continued, “I just want to forget about it and chill out this evening . . . and I thought that you would help me.”
Eve smiled for the first time since Tom entered the suite. She would give him one more chance to turn this evening around and give her what she wanted.
He cleared his throat – holding a clenched fist up to his lips. “Eve . . .”
“Yes?”
Nothing could have prepared her for his revelation.
“Eve, Monica is pregnant.”
Eve felt an inexplicable dart in her chest. She didn’t give a damn about Tom’s wife and she certainly didn’t envy her but the fact that Tom had come to tell her the news brought a mixture of emotions up from the pit of her stomach.
“So, you’re going to be a father – how lovely for you.”
Tom wasn’t sure if it was sarcasm or genuine regard in her tone. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone ‘cause I haven’t seen you for ages.”
“I already told you – I didn’t have the chance to call you the last time I was over,” she replied sharply.
Tom rubbed his hands through his short hair. It was shades paler than it had been when Eve had first met him as more grey had crept through the black strands with time.
“I know I’m not a priority in your life, Eve, but I always regarded you as someone special in mine. But things have changed for me now . . . I can’t see you when we are expecting a baby.”
Eve threw her head back and laughed. “Why did you come here then?”
Tom drew a sharp breath. “I wanted to see you one last time.”
“You can be so mushy. Give yourself a break, Tom. I’m really not bothered.” She stood up and walked towards the door. “Actually, I’m meeting people later and I’d like to take a bath, so why don’t you go home to Monica?”
Tom stood up and nodded. He knew in his heart that Eve had never really cared for him but he needed to show her the respect that he felt their relationship deserved – elicit as it was.
“Goodbye, Eve.”
He leaned forward to give her a parting kiss on the cheek but she turned her head away.
“Goodbye, Tom,” she replied and, as he disappeared out the door, she shut it sharply and stood for half a minute with her back leaning heavily against it.
She couldn’t stay here on her own tonight. Her mind was made up – she would ring Rachel and see where she was staying. If she was in New York shopping, chances were that she would be in the Fitzpatrick like the rest of Dublin that thronged Fifth Avenue from one end of the year to the other.
She rummaged around her handbag until she found the piece of paper that Lucille’s secretary had given her earlier. It was dog-eared but the mobile number was all that needed to be legible. She tapped the digits into the smooth chrome hotel phone and waited – unsure what she was going to say to her old friend. Fifteen years was a long time and all that she was certain of was that a lot had happened in both their lives.
Table of Con
tents
Copyright
Praise
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
Excerpt from Three Nights in New York
Two Days in Biarritz Page 34