‘My treat,’ Dean said.
‘Yes!’ Angel did an air pump.
‘Well, why don’t you hop back in the car and we’ll go and get us some dim sum and fortune cookies,’ Dean said, opening the door for Angel.
Once the excited nine-year-old was back in the car, Hayley letout a sigh that had her shoulders rolling. She clutched hold of the ironwork of the bridge but quickly let go as her fingers froze.
‘Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’ Dean asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.
She hadn’t known her brother was so close. The comfort almost brought tears to her eyes and she realised in that moment just how much she missed him. He’d been here, in New York, since she was seventeen and only now did she grasp just how much that had challenged her. He was her big brother, the only one who had never judged or asked too many questions.
She forced a smile but she wasn’t sure it had met her eyes. ‘I’m fine.’ How could she even begin to tell him everything that was wrong? It was easier this way.
He shook his head. ‘Come on, Hay, you’ve never been able to lie to me since the day you hid your Barbie’s dresses just so I couldn’t put them on Action Man.’
She couldn’t help the laugh escaping. ‘I didn’t understand back then.’
‘Making soldiers cross-dress just seemed natural,’ Dean said in a camp voice. ‘I’m sure I wasn’t alone.’
She looked her brother up and down. Brown brogues, dark-blue designer jeans, clean shaven, with his short, brown hair gelled up to perfection. His blue knit coat was collecting snowflakes and it was almost exactly like the last time she was here. Younger, more excited, but still vulnerable.
‘What is it?’ Dean said in no more than a whisper.
Hayley shook her head and forced a smile. It wasn’t the right time. She wanted to be closer to having answers, find a trail and be heading towards a result before she let anyone in on it. ‘It’s so good to see you.’
And then her cheeks hit the wool of Dean’s coat and the flakes of white mushed up against her skin as he embraced her hard. Shebreathed in the scent of his cologne, savouring all the memories it brought back. Fun, laughter, simple, uncomplicated times.
‘You’re in New York, Hay! New York! My adopted home town! And it’s Christmas time!’ Dean swung her about in his arms like she was a fabric doll. Then he held her away from him, hands planted on the side of her reddened cheeks as he swayed her head from side to side. ‘I have a whole list of things for us to do. We’re going to finally get you in a horse and cart. We’re going to go skating at the Rockefeller Center. Vern is going to get us tickets for something on Broadway.’ An ecstatic sigh left him. ‘It’s going to be the best two weeks of your life!’
Hayley took back control of her head. ‘Who’s Vern?’
For a second, the wind was taken out of Dean’s sails but then he laughed and clamped a hand on her shoulder. ‘Nice try. Your daughter never keeps anything secret. She must have told you about Vern.’
Hayley smiled. ‘She might have. But I definitely need to know more about Randy. Please tell me it’s a dog and not a pet name.’
9
ASIAN DAWN, SOUTH WILLIAM STREET, NEW YORK
‘You going to eat that or stare at it like it wants to buy all your shares?’
Tony shovelled in a mouthful of beansprouts and pulled at Oliver’s plate with his spare hand. His black hair bounced around his forehead as he devoured the food on his plate, spatters of juice speckling his olive skin.
Oliver shook his head at his friend. ‘Really? Just because I don’t eat like a starving woolly mammoth?’ He pulled the plate back towards him.
Tony was right though. He had ordered food he didn’t even want. After the heated debate with Clara, his brain was fried. He hadn’t been able to concentrate on the Regis Software merger paperwork and the stress ball had been given the pounding of its life. He needed to unwind. He was coiled so tightly in every area of his life and now he had his mother on his back. As if he didn’t have enough going on. Maybe the doctor was right. Maybe a rapid physical dismantling could happen at any time. A breakdown.Or a heart attack.
He picked some noodles up with his chopsticks and put themto his mouth, hoping the ingestion of food would quell the panic, soften the ache in his chest wall. He chewed slowly, trying to savour the subtle flavours, concentrate on just the eating, nothing else. His eyes moved to the other patrons, enjoying the fine food and the unique ambiance of the restaurant. Red paper lanterns hung from vantage points around the room, elaborate Chinese plates and ornaments adorned the walls and each table had a delicate, fresh orchid in its centre with a glowing tea light candle.
‘So, what’s happening in your world?’
Oliver turned his attention back to Tony. ‘Ah, you know, the usual.’
‘Really? Because Momma heard they called an ambulance for you yesterday.’
Oliver threw his napkin to the table and inhaled a breath. ‘All of my staff have signed a confidentiality clause.’
‘And most of them eat at the family restaurant. What can I say?’ Tony lifted his shoulders nonchalantly.
