The look on Hayley’s face when she saw the banner announcing what they were going to see was priceless. Her mouth had sprung open, her jaw hanging, eyes unbelieving. She turned to stare at him, unspeaking, seemingly lost for words which, for her, was a definite rarity. He felt pure, unadulterated joy welling up inside him. This was what it felt like to do something for someone you cared about. And then something stung. He didn’t do caring like that. It only led to pain. He kept the smile on his face and put a hand to his chest to quell the spasm that had occurred in apparent protest. This had to be light and casual. He ground his teeth together. He was living in the moment.Justthe moment. Nothing else.
‘I know about this… I mean… I knew it was in New York soon and I hoped I’d be able to catch some of it on TV. I mean, people like me don’t get tickets to this sort of thing,’ Hayley gabbled.
‘People like you?’ he questioned, drinking in the sight of her in the perfect dress, the ends of her new hairstyle just touching her delicious jawline.
She shrugged. ‘It’s one of the most famous fashion collaborations of the year. All the greats are here: Alexander McQueen, Versace, Galliano and…’ She took a breath like she was steeling herself for something. ‘Emo Taragucci.’
‘Who’s that?’ Oliver asked, his face a blank canvas.
‘Who’s that?!’ She flipped around on him, looking mean. ‘I can’t believe you said that.’
‘To be honest, I’m kind of a Tom Ford guy.’
He watched Hayley approach the poster, looking up at it like it was something to worship at. ‘Emo Taragucci has been… was… an inspiration to me.’
He wet his lips. Was she about to open up to him now? He’d known the flashes of spirit she had shown him were only the tip of the iceberg. Underneath the responsibilities of being a mum, there was a frustrated spirit waiting to break out. He held his breath, wanting nothing to get in her way.
‘I dreamed I’d be designing clothes like this one day,’ Hayley said, the words floating from her mouth almost subconsciously. ‘I thought… hoped… one day my name would be up there.’ She indicated the poster with a shaking finger. ‘Somewhere like this.’
This was her wish. When he’d asked her at Vipers, she had totally ignored her own dreams and desires and told him what she wanted for her daughter. But this was it. This was what she wanted the most for herself. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he remembered his own life plan he’d had to give up.
‘It’s never too late,’ he whispered, stepping close to her until he knew she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck. He watched her visibly shiver in response. What he wouldn’t give totouch that delicate skin, the shorter hair leaving it bare to the world.
She shook her head. ‘No. I missed my chance. Flying off to Milan and creating my show for London Fashion Week is never going to happen for me now.’
‘That’s defeatist.’
‘It’s reality. I have Angel.’
‘If you fold her up a certain way, I think she could class as hand luggage.’
Hayley laughed. ‘The special dictionary alone covers that. Add all the guidebooks and I may as well pay for her seat.’
He reached out and touched a strand of her hair before removing his hand quickly. Where had that come from? It was way too intimate. He cleared his throat. ‘Shall we go in?’
The opera house was, without doubt, the grandest place Hayley had ever set foot in. The tiers of sumptuous, red, upholstered seats were just like the Albert Hall. Looking upwards, she marvelled at the unusual circular design of the ceiling and the Art Deco-style starburst lights, their arms shooting out like radiant rays of stardust. Even in the best dress she had to wear, she felt conspicuous. Oliver, on the other hand, couldn’t have fitted in better. His winter coat was over his arm now and the charcoal suit he was wearing tapered in all the right places. She really needed to stop looking at him like he was a piece of meat ripe for the barbecue. But she couldn’t deny there was a part of her warming to this man in quite a significant way. Bringing her here wasn’t about showing off his ability to get tickets that had probably sold out the second they went on sale. Somehow, he knew this meant something to her.
She watched him saying hello to various patrons along the way.He was a well-known businessman; he probably knew half the room. She, on the other hand felt like a fish out of water. She really needed to learn to walk a little taller, remember the social skills she used to possess before the only thing she had to focus on was Peppa Pig. In a few days, she was going to be mixing with the rich and the beautiful at the McArthur Foundation fundraiser. And she really needed to tell Oliver about that.
Right on cue, he turned back to catch her gaze. ‘We’re here,’ he stated, holding an arm out, indicating the very front row.
The front row. Of course he had got them tickets for the front row. Where else would a billionaire trying to impress his date sit? She threw a glance over other guests already in their seats and almost choked on the air she couldn’t swallow down.
‘Oliver, don’t look now; I think Victoria Beckham is sat two rows behind us,’ Hayley hissed.
She watched him look then wave a hand of acknowledgement. ‘Ah good, I’ve been meaning to catch up with David about youth sports sponsorship.’
‘Are you kidding me?’ Hayley said, her voice an octave too high.
‘What?’ Oliver responded with a laugh of innocence. ‘If you’re impressed by sitting in front of Victoria Beckham, what are you going to think about sitting next to Emo Taragucci?’ He indicated the seat to Hayley’s right.
Suddenly, she felt like she was holding the winning lottery ticket and didn’t have a clue what to do.
From the second the music started, Oliver watched Hayley give every ounce of her attention to the show going on in front of them. She clapped and whooped, whistled in appreciation and watched steely-eyed as model after model made their way down the catwalkon stage towards them. It was evocative.Shewas evocative. His eyes hadn’t been on the stage; they’d been on only her. He swallowed as that thought travelled over his brain.
Hayley pointed. ‘Look at that. See how she creates the illusion of length. And those colours!’
‘I’m not even going to pretend I know what I’m looking at.’
