I study the line of waiting traffic before a horn honks, a hand extending from a car window in a wave. I head in its direction, pulling my suitcase along.
The door of the sparkly white sports car flies open, and a blonde woman jumps out in sky high heels and white jeans hugging her long legs. Sinclair Beaufort, twenty-three-year-old supermodel daughter of Sterling. Face of the family empire, Beaufort Diamonds, and model for numerous luxury brands.
The woman who hired me to find her father love.
She sees me staring at her car and giggles.
“They’re Swarovski crystals. Dad joked they should be diamonds because of the business. But I told him that would be impractical. I mean, can you imagine?”
I step closer to the gleaming vehicle. It’s covered in tiny crystals. I run a hand lovingly over it, caressing the texture the crystals create. Personally, I’d go for rose quartz if I had to choose. The crystal for love. Although, for a vehicle, maybe black tourmaline would be a better choice due to its protective properties.
“People would try to prise diamonds off to steal though,” I muse.
“Exactly!” Sinclair bobs her head enthusiastically. “Plus, every time I scrape it and lose some, the repair bill would be insane.” She flicks a hand in the air before holding it out to me in a flourish. “Anyway.” She flashes a mega-watt smile. “I know we’ve spoken on the phone, but it’s great to finally meet you in person, Halliday. I’ve been counting down the days.”
I take her hand, and she pulls me into a hug, my face landing in her long hair.
“It’s good to meet you too, Sinclair… You smell incredible.”
She laughs as I let her go. “A brand sent it to me as a gift. I forgot the name. Hang on.” She turns and grabs a nude Birkin bag from the front seat of the car. She rummages around inside and then pulls out a frosted perfume bottle shaped like a moon. “Here.” She reaches forward and pulls open the top of my purse, depositing it inside. “It’s yours now. First new thing you’ve got in New York.”
I gush out a surprised thanks, and she waves a hand at me. “Don’t mention it. You ready to go?” She pops the trunk and then lifts my giant suitcase into it with surprising ease for someone who can’t weigh more than 120lbs.
“Sure.”
I climb into the passenger seat, and she sinks into the driver’s side.
“Is the temperature okay? I can adjust it. What about the radio? What music do you like?” She looks at me eagerly, toying with her necklace with one hand.
“Put on anything you like.”
“Okay.” She chews her bottom lip and then her brows shoot up. “Ooh, how about this one? I set the station when I knew you were coming. It’s got relaxing music on it. I thought you might like it. It sounded meditation-y.”
Guilt niggles inside my gut that I dubbed Sinclair ‘Park Avenue Princess’ when I was telling Sophie about her. The press makes out she’s a bratty, party girl. But meeting her face-to-face, I can tell she’s really sweet and just excited that I’m finally here after all of our chats.
A yip from the back seat makes me jump.
“Monty!” Sinclair tuts. “Sorry if he scared you.” She reaches into the back, sitting forward with a bundle of gray and white in her arms. Two shiny black eyes blink and a tiny nose sniffs the air in my direction.
“Oh my Goodness, he’s so cute.”
I’ve always fancied having my own dog, but work takes me all over the place. It wouldn’t be fair to have a pet that I’d keep leaving behind.
“He really is.” Sinclair kisses him on the nose. “You want to hold him?”
“Yes, please.” I hold my arms out.
She deposits him into them, where he wags a tufted tail and sniffs happily at my face.
“He’s a Chinese Crested. You’re such a handsome boy, aren’t you?” she coos.
Monty pants happily from his position in my lap as I stroke the white hair on his ears.
“I like your sweater,” I tell him, earning myself a flurry of licks over my hand.
“Oh, Prada sent him that one. He gets cold being mostly hairless. We need to post a picture of you wearing it, don’t we, Monty? We can’t forget.” Sinclair winks at him. “He has his own following online,” she explains.
I continue fussing him. “That’s great. Well done, Monty.”
