‘How so?’
‘Because I should have found a keeper, not a shaggy-haired artist who charmed me with his foreign accent.’
‘I have to admit, I’ve been charmed by my fair share of those too.’ Dean smiled.
‘I wasn’t thinking that.’ Hayley laughed, easing the tension. ‘So, I want to hear all about how you met Vernon.’
‘Looks like George Clooney, doesn’t he?’
‘A replacement because the real one went and got married?’
Dean shook his head. ‘Oh no, he’s so much better than the real thing with his gorgeous hair and puppy-dog eyes and the way he?—’
‘I really don’t need to know what you get up to.’
‘I was going to tell you he can cook.’
‘Oh my God, heisbetter than the real George Clooney!’
Dean smiled and took hold of her hand, squeezing it against the wool of his gloves. ‘Oh by the way, thanks for dropping the jacket in today. Angel’s been the talk of the building.’
‘Uh oh.’
‘The “world’s most eligible bachelor” comment tickled Clara Fortaine.’
‘One day, that girl is going to get me arrested,’ Hayley replied. Looking across at Angel darting through the snow, her eyes sparkling, cheeks rosy, her breath hot in the air, she knew there wasn’t a thing that girl could do that would stop her going to the ends of the Earth to make her happy.
17
DRUMMOND GLOBAL OFFICES, DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN
Why did he do this to himself? Oliver had the McArthur Foundation website up on his PC screen. His intention had been to check the list of sponsors attending the fundraiser just to update himself on who was on board with the project. What he was doing now was reading the heartfelt stories from families the charity had helped. It was torturous. It brought back memories of Ben. It physically hurt how much he missed him. And every day, it hit him how much better suited Ben would be to this role than he was. Ben had been the dream son. The more academic one, who passed his driving test first time and won the spelling bee. Ben had been kind, thoughtful, doing anything for anyone. Oliver had been the brat. He’d always thought of himself first and everyone else a good while later. Because he hadn’t needed to be the good son. That was Ben’s job. Ben had the halo and it was pointless to even try to compete. Football was the only thing Oliver had had. The only thing he’d shone at. The only area of his life he owned. He swallowed. That’s where he should be now. Playing professionally, living the life he was destined for, not slipping into his dead brother’s shoes and living outhisdestiny. The Globe was going to makethe difference. The Globe was going to be the game changer. It was about putting his stamp on things, feeling differently and not living in the shadow of ghosts.
He clicked his mouse onto another page and there he was, staring back at him. Ben. His mother had no doubt got the photo uploaded. It was the photo their father had taken when Ben had won the prize for innovation at the annual Manhattan Chamber of Commerce awards. A piece of software Ben had created had changed the way not only Drummond Global worked, but businesses across the world.
Ben smiled out at him, joy etched on his face, life seeping from every pore. Oliver had been there that night, sat with the family, clapping his brother to victory. He had been so proud of him but jealous in equal measure. His brother might have had a short life but he’d got his dream.
The door of his office opened and Clara breezed in. He hurriedly minimised the screen.
‘Have you given up on knocking, Clara?’
‘I’m sorry. When you told me you weren’t working late tonight, I presumed you wouldn’t still be here at 8p.m.’ She slipped some files into his in-tray.
‘And what are you still doing here? Has husband number two left you?’
The expression that filled every inch of her face told him that his attempt at a joke hadn’t gone down so well.
‘I was just packing up,’ Clara said, turning her back on him and heading for the door.
‘Hey, wait up a second.’ He stood up and his movement or maybe his words made her stop. ‘You haven’t explained why you’re still here.’
She faced him again. ‘You don’t need to concern yourself withthe answer, Oliver. I turn up on time every day and I work late. I am the model employee.’
‘I’m not saying you aren’t.’ He tried again. ‘Have I missed something?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘So everything is OK in the house of Fortaine?’
