‘I’m going to be asking you to hack into personal accounts. Can you do that?’
‘Absolutely. You’re the boss. And, if this has been going on right under my nose then I have a personal interest in putting it right.’
Oliver smiled. ‘Thanks, Dean.’
‘No problem.’ He smiled. ‘So, Hayley’s keeping pretty tight-lipped but… how was your date last night?’
Masking the feelings that were erupting like an active volcano, he reached for his coffee cup.Empty. A pang, like the snap of a rubber band, pinged in his chest. That was his confirmation that she hadn’t told her brother what a dick he’d been. So just what did he say to it? The truth? That it was one of the best nights of his life? Or the other truth? It was one of the best nights of his life which he’d fucked up to protect her?
He smiled, putting on the best performance he could manage. ‘You’ll have to ask her about it.’
45
POP-UP CHRISTMAS TREE LOT, NEAR CENTRAL PARK, NEW YORK
The text from Rita had been the last straw. The apartment had suddenly got claustrophobic. Words and sentences on all her devices had started to swim in front of Hayley’s eyes. She needed to breathe, ground herself into the city. But it seemed as if the whole world was out buying Christmas trimmings. As she stood by the tree lot, she again took in Central Park in the afternoon. Just outside the gates were the lines of horses, carriages attached, waiting to take couples and families on a romantic tour of the city’s sights. Just along from them were slightly less romantic open-top buses to do the same. The smell of hot dogs and sauerkraut made her lick her lips and remember that she hadn’t eaten all day. It took a lot for her to go off food but Oliver’s kick to the gut had done it. The only upside to the day was getting colour-coordinated drapes that weren’t going to cost a wealthy sheikh’s fortune.
‘What about this one, Angel?’ Vernon asked, pointing to a rather large, bushy spruce.
Angel wrinkled her nose. ‘Not tall enough. You said we could get the biggest.’
‘He said what?’ Dean erupted.
Hayley watched Vernon laugh and move along the line of trees for another look.
‘So how’s it going with the fundraiser?’ Dean asked, slipping his arm through Hayley’s. This was it. Dean was warming up to asking her about the date with Oliver.
‘It’s going. Whether it all comes together for the night I have no idea. It needs to be perfect. I need to live up to a professional event planner who is still phoning Cynthia every four hours even though she can barely speak.’
Dean laughed. ‘That’s New York for you. People here aren’t so good at letting go.’
‘Hmm,’ Hayley responded, her mind immediately going to Oliver.
‘And what about Michel? Any luck there?’ Dean had lowered his voice deliberately and Hayley shot her eyes to Angel, who was scooping Randy up into her arms.
Hayley shook her head and put her hands into her hair as if a stress headache was about to burst forth at the mention of his name. ‘I don’t know what to do next, Dean. The only thing I can think of is getting a radio or TV announcement like they did inAnnie. Knowing my luck, it would be equally unsuccessful.’
‘And Oliver could play the part of Daddy Warbucks?’ Dean offered.
‘That isn’t funny.’ Hayley pulled her hair at the mention of Oliver. And the fact her brother had just slotted him into a step-father role. That was never going to happen. And it was all proof that keeping her distance from dates in the past was the right thing to do.
She changed the subject slightly. ‘How can a man just disappear like that? I’m coming to the conclusion that Michel gave me a false name. I mean, we’ve all done it.’
‘Have we?’
‘I used to go out and tell men my name was Terri and I test-drove cars for Vauxhall.’
‘You didn’t!’
Hayley let out a heavy sigh. ‘What am I going to do if I can’t find him, Dean? I made Angel a promise, a promise I meant with all my heart. But what am I going to do if I can’t deliver?’
Dean slipped his arm around her shoulders. ‘She’s had nine years without him. You’re doing all you can. There’s only so many stones to be upturned.’
‘She might be intelligent but she’s still nine and that isn’t going to wash.’
‘Well,’ Dean started. ‘There’s only one other thing I can think of.’
‘Anything. As long as it isn’t appearing on Oprah.’
